Chapter 28 My Stable. My Rules. #2
I begin tacking the big black horse, moving slowly to keep him calm.
He’s come a long way in the last few weeks, but he’s still a sensitive horse that turns skittish with unfamiliar sounds.
He’s not excited like Dolly, but he doesn’t show any signs of distress when Wes pulls into the driveway and slams the door of the truck.
Wes saunters into the stable in a pair of faded Levi’s, a black T-shirt, and his Stetson pulled low. When he spots who I’m tacking up, he smirks at me. “You’re actually gonna let me ride him?” He keeps his voice low so he doesn’t startle Luci.
I give him a slow perusal and purse my lips. “I’m not sure you can handle all that horse, city boy.”
“Hey now. Those are fighting words. I’ve been handling him just fine.”
He’s right. He’s been doing great with Luci during trainings. I’m still not sure the horse is ready for a trail ride, though. Normally, I play it safe with my horses, but Wes had smiled at me all cute and charming, urging me to throw caution to the wind, and I'd melted a little.
Hopefully, I don't regret this later.
I hold Wes’ stare, taking in those hazel eyes of his, the center a warm gold that heats me from the inside out.
“If he winds up hurt, I’ll make sure you end up hurting too.”
He whistles low. “Alright, Red. Don’t worry. I know how to ride a skittish horse.”
He greets Luci while I finish up with his saddle.
Luci nuzzles into his hand and chuffs an eager greeting.
Once I have it cinched up, Wes leads him to the front of the stable.
“I’ve got some stuff to put in their saddlebags.
Hang on.” He jogs to the truck and grabs two paper bags that appear full and a large blanket.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“I had Mrs. Mackey make us some supper.”
I eye the bags appreciatively. He digs into the first, pulling out something wrapped in foil.
“Her famous chicken salad on her homemade croissants.” He slides out two small containers with lids.
“Her homemade coleslaw, and”—he shifts the bag and pulls out two small Styrofoam containers—“pumpkin bars.” 1
“Oh, God. I think I love you," I whisper to the containers holding the dessert bars that I know are covered in gooey cream cheese frosting.
He chuckles and finishes packing our supper in the saddlebags, along with two glass bottles of root beer. Once everything is loaded, I watch as he mounts Luci with ease, the veins in his thick forearms bulging and his biceps stretching his shirt tight across his arms.
He catches me staring at him and winks, making my cheeks go red. “You gonna stare at me all night, or are you gonna get on that horse so we can ride before the rain hits?”
I roll my eyes and shake off the heat that is already pooling in my center as I pull myself into the saddle. “You’re getting mighty cocky for a man who was a full-on city boy not five weeks ago.”
He clicks his tongue, urging Luci to walk through the open gate of the pasture. “I haven’t been a full-on city boy since my first summer I spent at Dawson Ranch when I was four. Pops let me ride his horse with him and I was hooked from then on.”
“You sure looked the part of city boy when you were changing your tire in my driveway in your designer jeans. And when it took you a solid two hours to actually rope something.” Dolly picks up her gait, unable to stand that Luci is outpacing her.
She’s the queen of the stable, and she isn’t about to let Luci forget it.
Wes shoots me a wounded look. “I was just a little rusty.”
I scoff. “And now?”
“Now, I’m livin’ in my cowboy era.”
“Until it’s time to go back home?” I venture.
He sighs. “Yeah, I guess so.”
I nod in understanding. The city has always been his place. It shouldn’t surprise me to hear it’s where his heart still lies, but that doesn’t make the barbs in my chest sting any less.
We’re both quiet for a while, with just the sound of the horses tromping through the tall prairie grass. Wes shifts the reins, and Luci veers to the right. Dolly snorts in agitation when she sees Luci ahead of her again.
“Where are we going exactly?” I ask when Wes pulls up to the fence that separates the Dawson’s property from mine.
“There’s a spot I wanted to show you,” he answers, hopping off Luci to open the gate.
The rusted gate swings open on squeaky hinges and Luci inches back nervously at the unexpected sound. His hooves dig at the ground and as I reach for his reins to get him under control, Wes’ cell phone rings at full volume.
And chaos erupts.
Luci rears back on his hind legs, and Dolly backs away from the frightened horse, not wanting to get kicked by the skittish gelding. Wes mutters a curse, but by the time he lurches for the reins, it’s too late. Luci lets out a shrill neigh and takes off in the other direction.
I groan, cursing myself for letting Wes convince me he was fine for the ride. I thought it would be good for him, but he obviously wasn’t ready.
“You were riding Luci, and you didn’t silence your damn phone?” I snap.
“I forgot,” he replies, unfazed by my tone.
“Now I’ve gotta go find him and bring him back in before he hurts himself.”
“I’ll wrangle him. Scoot forward.” His hand rests on the back of Dolly’s saddle.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Riding back with you and dropping you at the stable so I can go find Luci before it’s completely dark, and he’s impossible to see.”
I huff and scoot as far forward as I can. Wes heaves himself onto Dolly. His chest is flush with my back and his thighs press against mine. He loops his arms around me and takes the reins, tugging gently on them to turn Dolly back toward home.
I’m too dazed by his nearness to argue. The press of his body against mine, his warmth chasing away the autumn chill—it makes me speechless, leaves me utterly dumbfounded. It’s ridiculous, really.
I’m stiff in the saddle, careful not to rub against him because something about Wes short-circuits my brain, reducing it to a single primitive thought when he's this close to me.
Sex.
And right now, I’m too pissed off for that to even be an option.
Wes gathers the reins in one hand and squeezes my thigh with the other. “Relax, Red. I’ll find Luci and get him back to you safe and sound. I promise.”
He’s misinterpreting the reason for my rigidity, but his warm hand squeezes my thigh again and my body relaxes under his lingering touch. The ride back home feels much longer with Wes’ body pressed tight against mine.
He drops me at the stable and takes off on Dolly to find the hellion who ruined his romantic picnic plans. I’m strung tight from our ride back, so I get to work putting the feeling of Wes’ warmth from my mind.
The wind bites through my denim shirt as I fill the troughs in the small barn and get the goats situated for the night.
It took us longer on the ride back with two of us on Dolly and now, the skies that had been clear and blue all day have turned a dark, murky gray.
The clouds look heavy, and I head back to the stable to get the rest of the horses settled.
There’s a low rumble of thunder in the distance, and the sound puts me on edge. I grit my teeth against the anxiety rolling through me.
Wes is out there with Dolly and—hopefully—Luci by this point. Luci can be a handful on his own, let alone with Dolly and what sounds like an incoming storm. I’m suddenly questioning my choice to allow Wes to go alone to find Luci. I should have insisted on going with him.
A flash of lightning streaks across the sky. Cash looks at me with gentle eyes and a judgmental quirk to his ears that I swear is telling me to chill the fuck out.
“They’ll be fine,” I say to the horse. “Right?”
He chuffs and steps closer to the stall door. I oblige him with some ear scratches, which are his favorite, and he leans into my hand. My worry fades momentarily as I give Cash some extra attention before returning to forking hay into the feeders.
Rain patters gently on the metal roof, and the worry I’d been ignoring for the past ten minutes creeps back into the forefront of my mind.
Wes could be hurt. Luci has never thrown Wes, but I wouldn’t put it past him if he's spooked enough.
The rain picks up and I’m about to tack up another horse to go out and search for him when I hear Dolly’s loud whinnying. I spot Wes riding Luci, with Dolly protesting from where she’s tied to the younger gelding.
The anxiety building in my chest slowly dissipates as I see everyone is unharmed. And as the fear goes, annoyance and anger take its place. By the time Wes reaches the stable, I’m flaming mad.
I take Dolly from him and shoot him a withering glare.
“Don’t be like that, Red. It was an honest mistake. I’m sorry.” He untacks Luci, who still seems shaken from his self-inflicted torment.
“Luci could have gotten hurt. And you could have too.”
“We’re all fine.” His shirt is dotted with wet spots from the rain.
“By dumb fucking luck,” I snap, putting an untacked Dolly back in her stall. “It’s the last time I’m going to let you talk me into a damn thing, Wes. So fucking help me, God. My stable. My rules. I should have known better than to listen to some city boy over my own instincts.”
His eyes narrow at me, and my blood boils as he steps into my space. His fingers thread through my hair, and the thumb on his other hand drags across my lower lip. “You keep running that pretty mouth, Red. I’ll have you on your knees so damn fast.”
My temper is blazing and heat flares across my skin. My emotions have been running high ever since yesterday. He has me feeling raw and out of control in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. I haven’t decided if I like it or not yet.
I want to stay mad, but the sensation of his calloused thumb on my lip, his dirty promises, and the fire in his gaze makes me feel like I might be incinerated on the spot.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” I taunt.
The fire in his eyes glows brighter, and his fingers tighten in my hair. He tugs me to my knees, and I stare up at him, my eyes widening in shock.
Wes is backing up those dirty promises and I’m so turned on right now that I can’t focus on anything other than Wes unbuckling his belt and slipping himself out of his boxer briefs. His thick thighs tighten as he wraps his hand around his length and gives himself a firm stroke.
My lips pop open as I watch a bead if precum form on the tip and my breath hitches in my throat when I finally see the size of him.
Substantial as fuck.
“Open up nice and wide, Red. I’ll put that mouth of yours to better use.”
My gaze shifts from his dick to his face, and I press my lips firmly together in silent defiance.
His eyes are bright, and he’s looking down at me with a contained smirk. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he watches me. "You can do as you're told, or I can make you open that mouth for me. Your choice."
Seeing Wes take control, so sure of himself, sends a thrill down my spine.
It's intoxicating—the way he moves, the authority in his voice.
It has me melting, willing to comply with his demands.
I let out a slow, exaggerated breath, holding his stare as I slowly part my lips—just enough to make him wait for it.
“Just like that. Show me what that filthy mouth of yours can do.” He settles himself on my tongue and I lick up his shaft in slow and languid strokes, like a cat lazily dragging its tongue across a paw. He might have made the demands, but with him resting on my tongue, he's at my mercy now.
He groans and I immediately close my lips around him, creating enough suction on his tip that my cheeks hollow out. I suck on him, working him to the back of my throat, slowly. Inch by thick inch.
His hands are still tangled in my hair, and I love the feeling of him guiding me down his cock. Wes taking control is a fucking sight to see. Primitive lust dances behind his gaze, and his attention flicks between where I take him in my mouth and looking me in the eyes.
I reach up and roll him in the palm of my hand. He hisses a breath between his front teeth, exhaling a muted "fuck" as my tongue presses against the underside of his cock.
He thrusts into my mouth roughly, tightening his grip on my hair.
My eyes tear up as he hits the back of my throat and I gag, but when he tries to pull away, I dig my nails into the muscles at the backs of his thighs.
I take him as far as I can, and he can’t help but pump into me when I swallow around him.
His pace picks up, and he slams into my mouth like he’s happy to shut me up, and truth be told, I like it. It’s real and raw and filthy.
My knees are scraping against the concrete of the dirty stable floor, and I don’t give a fuck when Wes is in control like this because seeing this self-controlled city boy go full on feral and fuck my face in the stable like a true cowboy is damn near everything.
His pace falters, and a moment later he’s pulsing on my tongue. His hot cum cascades down my throat, and I swallow him, my thumbs massaging his thighs as he shivers slightly.
His eyes are hazy as he smiles down at me, his rough fingertips scraping over my jaw. “God damn. That mouth might be my favorite thing.”
I smirk through the pain in my knees. “Good. Then you won’t mind when I use it to tell you off some more.”
He chuckles. “Save it for after we eat dinner, would ya? I’m starving.” He helps me up from the hard floor and I suppress a groan from the ache that radiates through my joints.
I must wince at the pain because he looks at my slightly scraped knees and grimaces. “Maybe I should have brought you inside to do that.”
I shake my head at him. “Where would be the fun in that?”
“Your knees wouldn’t be scraped to hell for one.”
I laugh. “Come on, cowboy. Let’s go eat.”
He snags the bags of food from the bench he set them on, and I grab the bottles of root beer before leading him back to the house in the cold drizzle.
1. You can find the recipe for Mrs. Mackey's Pumpkin Bars in the back matter of the book. #chapter=x44QwaHc3hsQlfKO