20. Nathan
20
NATHAN
Last night, I made Candice Wilson come.
That thought is the only thing that keeps me going the day after. I wake up at the crack of dawn to get started on work at the barn. I clean out every damn stall, refill all the hay bags, check the water heaters, and even repair a fence. All before noon.
But I don’t care, because last night I made Candice Wilson come. And it was fucking beautiful.
Even when my manager calls, yammering on at me about her plans to rehabilitate my image and magazine shoots she wants to book, I don’t even mind. I post a few photos of the barn in the snow with a sappy caption about how much I love it here, and I tell Amber to book whatever shoot she wants. I doubt anyone will want to do a piece on my time at Star Mountain anyway, but it’s worth a shot.
And if I lose every endorsement deal and never compete again? I’m finding that that thought doesn’t bother me as much as it used to, because last night, I made Candice Wilson come. She was fucking exquisite. Perfect. Gorgeous. Beyond anything I’d imagined.
“You feeling better today, Nate?” Beau asks from somewhere behind me.
I drop the rake I’m holding and whirl around to find him staring at me with a concerned look on his face.
“Yeah, I’m fine, why?” I ask.
“You were sick last night,” he says, staring at me like I’m an idiot.
“Oh, yeah. I’m better today.”
“You know, you don’t have to lie to me.”
“Why would I lie?”
“I don’t know, Nate, you tell me.”
“Well I’m not, so don’t worry. I hope the card game was a good time,” I say, pasting on a smile.
“It was fine,” he says. “One of the local ranchers, Holden, is getting married soon so everyone was in good spirits.”
“I’m sorry to have missed it.”
“You know you don’t have to avoid social situations and act like you’re a pariah. No one in Star Mountain cares that you’re here for community service,” Beau says, likely thinking he’s found the cause of my sudden illness.
“Thanks, man,” I say. “I really appreciate that. But my manager wants me to keep my image clean so I’m happy pretending to be a good boy and laying low for a while longer.”
Beau snorts out a laugh. “I’m sure she does,” he says. “But there’s no trouble to be had in Star Mountain.”
I hold in a wince. Because his sister has trouble written all over her, and we’re getting into plenty of it together.
Beau and I agree to grab a drink later in the week, and then he heads off to his next appointment at Holden’s ranch, where one of their horses has equine influenza and hasn’t gotten better with rest. I walk over to the storage barn to grab some extra hay pellets to use as training treats with Brown Sugar, and find Candice there.
She’s trying to grab a sack of bran off the back of the top shelf, but can’t quite reach it despite her height. I come over next to her and reach up, easily snagging the bag from the back.
“Here,” I say, placing it on the ground by her feet.
“Thanks,” she says. “I want to make all the horses hot mash later.”
“Ballantine’s gonna love that. He goes crazy for hot mash, especially because he hates the cold so much.”
“He’s a bit of a princess, isn’t he?” Candice grins at me.
“Definitely. But he’s so damn good at his job that he gets a free pass.” I’m sure I’m matching her grin tooth for tooth, but I can’t help it.
“When do you think you’ll compete again?” she asks.
It’s the question I’ve been dreading everyone in my life asking. It makes sense that she’d be curious, but I still feel my smile slip as I think of how to answer it.
“I’m not sure,” I say, going for honesty. “I miss it. And I love reining. It’s what I do best. But I’ve been happy taking some time off and Ballantine has as well. He loves lazing around the pasture with the others.”
“Well I’m glad you think of working here as time off,” Candice says, giving me her trademark eye roll.
“Well it is, in a way. It’s a break from my normal life, and I’m glad to have it. I’ve spent the last four years competing endlessly, squeezing in training and shoots and brand deals in between, and I just—sometimes I don’t feel like myself anymore. I didn’t grow up with any of that stuff. With money, I mean.”
“I get that,” Candice says. “I was nervous the first time we met for that very reason.”
“What exactly did I do that first night to make you dislike me so much?” I ask, hoping that this time she’ll explain it to me.
“Ask me nicely and I might remind you,” Candice says with a wicked smile.
“Oh yeah? Tell me how you want me to ask.”
“I can think of a few ways…” she trails off as I pull her towards me, my hands gripping her hips and fitting them against mine. She’s got me instantly aching for her.
“Tell me about them.”
She clams up like she did yesterday and doesn’t say a word, but her hands find my ass and she drags me even closer.
“I have a few ideas,” I say. “I could ask nicely by kissing you here.” I lean in and trail my lips along her neck. She lets out a hum of pleasure. “Or here.” I press a kiss against her jaw. “Is this what you want?”
“Maybe,” she says, but I can tell she wants more.
“What about on my knees with my face buried in your sweet cunt? Would that be nice enough?” I whisper. I trace the shell of her ears with my lips, eliciting a shudder from her.
“Oh my God, Nathan,” she says.
Like always, hearing her say my full name makes my chest fill with pride. I pull back and see that she’s blushing a bright pink.
“Do you like hearing about that, honey? Do you like hearing about how I’m going to taste your cunt and tongue fuck you until you scream?”
She blushes even harder, but nods.
“Ralph never did that, but I…I want you to.”
“Ralph is a fucking idiot,” I tell her, grinding my teeth at the mention of the other man. “But I’m not. And I can’t wait to taste you.”
“Here?” Her voice is breathless, and her eyes are glassy.
“Whenever you want.”
“Here,” she confirms.
“You don’t seem nervous anymore,” I remark.
She answers by unbuttoning her jeans and slipping them down. My mouth goes dry at the sight of her black underwear, the curve of her hip. I help Candice out of her jeans, underwear, and boots, and then lead her over to a wooden crate in the back. I pull my jacket off and lay it down, so that she’ll be somewhat comfortable.
“What a gentleman,” she murmurs, with no trace of sarcasm.
“My mama taught me well,” I say. “And I want this to be good for you. I don’t want you to be thinking about how cold you are or how the crate feels. I want you to be relaxed. That’s the key to good sex.”
“I’m not a very relaxed person,” she says, sitting down on the crate. “I think that’s why sex has always been difficult for me. But you—you make me feel relaxed. And safe, even if some of the things we do are, um, new to me.”
“Good. That’s exactly how I want you to feel.”
I kneel in front of her on the ground, and feel like I’m kneeling before a fucking queen. My queen.
She spreads her legs slowly, exposing her glistening, pink cunt to me and making my mouth water. I drag a finger through her core. “So greedy. So wet and aching for me even though you came all over my hand just last night.”
“I woke up wanting more,” she admits. “I don’t know…it’s like last night unlocked something in me and I spent all morning thinking about this. About you.”
“I like the idea of you fantasizing about me, Viper,” I say, giving her a grin. “Why don’t you tell me about it while I taste you? I want to know more about what you like.”
I see her hesitance written all over her face, so I say, “Do your best. It’s good to practice telling your partner what you want, but I know it can be nerve wracking.”
She just nods, but she seems a bit more at ease.
I lean in and run my tongue lightly over her folds, licking from her entrance to her clit and back again. Candice lets out a small whine that encourages me to keep going. I flick my tongue over her clit, and then suck on it lightly, and then harder as her moans increase.
“Nathan that feels amazing,” she gasps. “Keep going.”
I run my tongue over her clit again, swirling it over the tight nub and relishing the sound of her pants and whimpers.
“I thought about you fucking me,” she says.
Blood shoots straight to my cock at her words, making it harder and thicker than ever, but I keep my attention on the smell and taste of her.
“Keep going. Tell me how I was fucking you, honey.”
“From behind. I thought about you pounding into me, grabbing me by the hair, and pulling my head back. I thought about you pressing me into my bed and doing whatever you wanted to me with your cock.” She moans again, as I switch from licking her clit to fucking her entrance with my tongue, lapping up the sweet, musky taste of her, as images of what she just described fill my head.
“I thought about you making me yours,” she says.
These words unlock something in me, and I grab Candice by the hips, pushing her pussy onto my mouth even harder, and ravaging her with my tongue and lips until she starts to shake.
I pull away briefly and tell her, “You’re going to come on my face, and then I’m going to turn you around and fuck you with my hand until you come again and scream my name while you do.”
“Please, oh my God, Nathan. Please,” she begs.
I lick her lightly and gently, just a few more times, and then she starts to come, her legs tightening around my head and her fingers tugging my hair. She presses my face against her cunt, practically riding it as she moans and whimpers, shaking around me like the core of her being is unraveling.
I barely give her time to pause before I’m on my feet, and repositioning her so that she’s bending over the crate.
“Is this okay?” I ask, checking in with her. “I want to give you some of the fantasy you had earlier.”
“Yes,” she says. “This is definitely okay with me.” She laughs a bit, and looks over her shoulder at me. Her face is flushed and her eyes are full of lust, her pupils blown out. But she looks happy—really, genuinely happy.
“Spread your legs again for me, honey,” I say.
She parts her legs, her perfect peach of an ass spreading as she does.
“God, this fucking ass, Candice.” I grip one of her cheeks and have to restrain myself from leaning in to bite down. “You torture me with this thing daily.”
I ease one finger into her cunt, relishing the tight, slick feel and groaning as I do.
“Is that good?”
“Yes,” Candice gasps, pressing back against me. “More,” she moans.
I push another finger into her. “Spread your legs a bit wider. I want to see your cunt taking my fingers like a little slut.”
Candice immediately moves, and tilts her ass upwards slightly, giving me the perfect view of her soaked cunt, stuffed full of me.
“Do you like being called my little slut?” I’m pretty sure she does from her response, but I want to make sure Candice and I are on the same page, all the time.
“Yes,” she says, moaning as my fingers stroke into her again. “That kind of thing is new to me, but I like it for some reason.”
“You like it,” I say, curling my fingers inside of her, “because it reminds you that you don’t have to be ashamed of wanting this—of wanting to feel good. Your body was made to feel good, and I’m going to teach you all the ways it can, okay?”
“Please,” she cries. “Please teach me, Nathan.”
Blood shoots straight to my cock as she begs me.
“Good,” I manage to say. “Because I’m going to give this greedy cunt exactly what it needs. Exactly what a slut like you wants.”
I wrap Candice’s long braid around one hand and pull her head up, while continuing to fuck her with my other hand. Her ass bounces as she pushes back against me, and I relish the sight.
“Reach down and play with your clit,” I tell her. “I can tell your cunt wants it.”
Candice starts rubbing herself, and I feel our fingers clash as she does. It’s the sweetest thing—both of us working to get her off, making her pleasure the most important thing.
“That’s it, honey, make yourself feel good. Never be ashamed of this. Of what your body can feel. You deserve everything,” I tell her, my heartfelt words somewhat at odds with the situation.
But it’s this that seems to send Candice over the edge, and she screams, “Yes, oh my God, Nathan. Fuck,” and then starts to come. Her pussy clenches around my fingers and she continues to circle her clit, riding the wave of her orgasm. She drenches my hand, her pussy leaking her juices and cum all over me as the orgasm continues, until she’s shaking and limp and all but collapses onto the crate. I pull her gently to a sitting position, and sit next to her, pulling her against my chest as she comes down from the high.
“Nathan,” she says.
“Yes, honey?”
“Thank you.” She looks me directly in the eyes, holding my gaze intensely. “I know you said not to, but I really mean it. I never knew I could feel that way—so free—and I just…”
“I get it,” I say. “That was some kind of magic.” I sound like a fucking cornball but I mean every word. Watching Candice fall apart on my face and hands and her own fingers was magic.
“It was, wasn’t it?” She laughs, like she can’t quite believe it. “Now I know why people have casual sex all the time. It finally makes sense to me.”
As she cleans up with some tissues she has with her and gets dressed, I refrain from mentioning to her that casual sex isn’t usually like that—emotional and intimate and vulnerable. I don’t want to burst her bubble, not when she looks so happy.
She’s been through so much. She deserves to be carefree. And if the bubble in my chest popped as soon as she said the word casual? Then so be it.