44. What a Fucking Phenomenal Way to Die
WHAT A FUCKING PHENOMENAL WAY TO DIE
EMBERLEIGH
I growl. I’m over being teased. I’ve gotten to the edge, only to be pulled back more times than I can count. I’m wound tight like a spring and need release. “Braxton Ranger, stop toying with me and fuck me.” I never talk like this, so I quickly add, “Please.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I rear back as he plunges. Every one of his strokes pulls a moan from me. I push up onto all fours, needing more, needing him deeper. But a hand presses on my shoulder blades, pinning me to the bed. I have no control. I can only take.
The hand trails down my spine and splays wide and hot at my lower back. On his next withdrawal, he breaches my ass with a thumb, and I’m so full, so wound up, so hot, I want to explode. I moan. I can only feel and the feeling is too much, too good, too... “Oh, God!”
When he reaches underneath me and finds my clit, I can’t take any more pleasure.
“Too much. So good. I— Oh, God.” The moan that rips from me is straight ecstasy.
It’s carnal and decadent. I clench around his thumb and cock taking every bit Braxton gives.
One last stroke of my clit and I crash over the edge and come so hard and so long, I don’t know if it’s one long one or if it’s multiple orgasms rolling one on top of another.
I do know it’s the best in the history of sex.
I pulse over and over again, my stomach tightening, my pussy clenching, my clit throbbing. I’m sure I scream but in the throes of that level of ecstasy, I don’t even know if it was coherent. And I don’t even care.
When Braxton collapses on top of me, the full heat of his chest to my back, my knees slide out from under me.
He’s still inside me. His hand’s still under my hip, cupping my pussy. His hot breaths whisper across my neck, before he places a kiss and a nip right there.
“I think you’re trying to kill me, baby. But what a fucking phenomenal way to die.”
I mumble something, completely incoherent. My body wrung of all function, but feeling sated bliss warm me through.
He laughs and the ripple moving over my body and inside me where we’re still joined draws another moan.
“Best. Sex. Ever.” I enunciate every word. “I think I love Monday Night Football.”
“Yeah?” I feel his breath on my neck when he chuckles. “Who played tonight?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care. I just really like the after-party.”
“If it weren’t for the condom, I’d stay right here.” He kisses under my ear again before pulling out. I’m still tender and I groan a little at his withdrawal. I’m more bereft by his absence.
I don’t know how long he’s gone or if I doze during that time. But eventually he returns, lifting me from the bed and pulling back the covers, setting me in the center and sliding in after me, folding me to his side.
I feel his warm palm slide to rest on my lower back. If he says anything further, I don’t know. If Colt wakes, he must handle it.
Because I wake the next morning, sore, sated, and sandwiched to his side. His stubbled jaw is at rest and his brow is relaxed as I slip out of bed and head for my run.
I keep a good pace and am pleased with my time. I’m getting better at this, but that runners’ high is a mirage. Whoever says that runners find a love for this are liars who deserve to never have wine again.
I vary my normal path and run by the stables, only to stop there and dip inside.
There’s no one here yet and no lights on, so I leave the big door open and wander the interior.
I let my breathing return to normal as I walk stall by stall.
Curious brown eyes peek over stall doors and whinnies and nickers greet my ears.
Marron peers over. The mare is curious, but not wary of me, and drops her nose when I tentatively reach up.
“Good morning, Marron. How are you, girl?” I stroke a small path down her nose and around under her ear. “You doing okay? How’s your sweet baby?”
She tries to communicate something but I don’t speak horse, so I keep talking and rubbing her. “She’s beautiful, Marron. Is she nursing well?” Windrunner walks up and latches on about that time.
“Well,” I continue my one-sided conversation. “I guess that answers that. Can I pet her when she’s done?”
Her wise brown eyes hold mine, and she chuffs out a sound from her throat.
“You know I don’t understand, right? I wish I did.”
A throat clears, and I startle, letting out a little squeak.
Pops stands, shoulders to the wall, one booted foot propped up behind him. His arms are crossed, but he doesn’t look angry. He smiles in greeting.
“Morning.” He bobs a head before pushing off the wall and coming to stand near me.
“Horses are brilliant animals.” He reaches to stroke Marron.
“They communicate… If you speak the language.” He opens the stall door and offers a hand for me to enter ahead of him.
I do, and he latches the door behind us.
“Over time, you’ll understand their mannerisms.” He rubs a hand down Marron before giving a quick pet to Windrunner.
“You’ll read when they’re agitated or are skittish.
You’ll recognize when they have a need. You’ll know when they want more attention or don’t want to be approached.
” He moves around the mare and her foal, talking and petting. “Like anything, it takes time.”
I nod. “It’s the thing I have the least of. With the horses. At the ranch. In general.”
“Don’t despise small beginnings,” he replies and holds my eyes. “Emilia used to say that.”
“I’ve heard that before. But I’ve got to say, I don’t like being inexperienced.”
“Darlin’, we’re all new at something. We’re all a novice at most things in life. A year ago, did you know anything about babies?”
“Nothing. I bet I still don’t. I know Colt, but most of it I’m learning on the fly.” I fidget with my ponytail.
“Bet Braxton is the same. Knows what he’s learned so far. He knows how to ride a bike, but not how to teach Colt how to. We’re all always learning. You can’t be perfect at everything.” He extends a hand, indicating I should stand next to him.
“Marron,” he continues. “Can Emberleigh pet Windrunner?”
Her deep brown eyes hold mine. She studies me before blinking slowly.
Kimpton rubs her flank and positions me near Windrunner. I wait for his go-ahead and when she shows some recognition, I stroke her gently from between her ears to the nape of her long neck.
“She’s grown so much.” It comes out as a whisper, my tone almost reverent.
Windrunner stops nursing and looks up to me.
“Won’t be long before you’re taller than me and I’ll have to look up to meet your eyes.
” I stroke her muzzle, and she leans into my touch.
I have no clue whether my face registers what my heart feels, but the lightness that bubbles up there could almost escape as laughter.
I turn to the man with me. “Thank you, Kimpton. I don’t know what led me to the barn this morning, but it feels like I was supposed to be here. Know what I mean?”
“I do. And, Emberleigh? Call me Pop.” It’s a statement, but I hear the question he asks.
I nod. “Thank you. I—” I look to my feet before locking my gaze on his. “Thank you for protecting me when my father was… Well, when he was himself. Thanks for protecting Colt. I… He’s all that matters and… thank you.”
“Darlin’? You matter. And you’re doing the right thing. Hard to see that when you’re slogging it out in the trenches, but from the outside, it’s evident. Just keep doing what you’re doing.” His small smile is genuine, and my responding one is too.
“Thanks, Pop.” He nods and swings the stall door open, not waiting for me to go ahead of him, and is gone.
I turn back to Windrunner and stay calm and gentle and stroke her muzzle until Marron turns and bumps my hand with her nose. “Need a little attention, Mama? I’ve got you.” I rub her nose and scratch behind her ears, mimicking Pop’s movements, and Windrunner returns to nursing.
Braxton
“It’s always something, isn’t it? They say that human moms miss it. Eventually. But right now, you’ve got to be tired, huh?” I hear her say as the hay crunches under her running shoes. Before she can swing through the stall door, she adds, “I’ll come back soon, okay?”
Marron nickers as Emberleigh swings through the door, coming face-to-face with me where I stand leaning against the far wall. I open my arms, and she walks straight into them before I fold her into my warmth. I kiss the top of her head and wait for her to say something. Anything.
“This is new.” The sound is muffled in my shirt, but I feel the rumble at my chest. If I’m not mistaken, I can hear the question in her statement.
“You’ve been gone a long time, Emberleigh.” I pull back to look her in the face.
“What?”
“Baby, you left for your run two hours ago. It was worth coming to look for you.”
Her hand flies to cover her open mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
I shove off the wall and turn her into my side so we’re walking side by side. “I figured. It was just unusual.”
“How’d you know I was here?”
I look around as if it’s obvious. Ranch hands are moving, starting their days, mucking out stalls, moving supplies onto ATVs.
“Don’t think your invisibility shields are working this morning, baby.”
“Ha. No, really. Was it Pop?”
I momentarily stutter step as we walk. She and Pop have a bond, but she’s always called him Kimpton.
“Bright texted me.”
“Oh. Was she mad I was here?”
He shakes his head. “Brighton loves this ranch. Everything she does is for this place, for its people, for its legacy. She’ll tell you she has other clients. And she does, but only because she doesn’t want to be bound to this by any choice but her own.”
I push out of the barn and into the morning sun. I drop my arm from around her, but grab her hand, walking us toward the house.
“So why did she text you?”
“Baby, she was rude last night. She knows it. She thinks she’s protecting me, protecting the ranch, but she knows deep down that you’re no threat here. She’d have marched up to you, blindsided you, and laid that all out this morning if I hadn’t asked her not to.”