Chapter 3
CATALINA
My knees lock around the barrel body of the horse, and I maintain the tight hold on the reins, not pulling them.
The spotted animal beneath me seems to take everything in stride, enjoying the ride as much as I do.
He trots ahead, swishing his head here and there, golden mane moving in the soft breeze.
I smile. How couldn’t I? Horses are beautiful animals, indeed. Reaching out, I caress the side of his thick neck, and he moves in delight. This one seems to enjoy some scratches, so I keep giving them to him. It helps me get distracted from the height.
I don’t think I’m a particularly cowardly girl, but wow, horses are tall animals.
Lisa, from HR, seems much less comfortable in the saddle than her eldest, sitting in front of her.
She’s stiff as a board, her slick black hair pulled back in a low ponytail.
Her son grins so much that his angular eyes almost close with excitement.
He keeps asking her to pick up speed, but she refuses with a passion.
I chuckle. Can’t judge her. It’s a mix of thrill and fear.
Mr. Reynolds had five animals ready to ride, so we divided into two groups. Looking over my shoulder, I find him right in the middle, listening to two of his employees chatting. Even though both seem dedicated to catching his eye, he’s looking at me.
A shiver races down my spine. I snap my attention back to the front. I’m lucky Dad didn’t want to come. What would he think? What would he think if he saw me blushing hard under his boss’s scrutiny? He would definitely have something to say, and it wouldn’t be a good thing.
Hooves crunch on the gravel, and I turn my head to find Mr. Reynolds galloping until he stops next to me. All the feelings take over me, making my stomach churn, my heart skip a beat. Sweat slicks the top of my forehead, and I force my gaze away.
“Enjoying your ride?” he asks in that gravelly voice.
I nod, opening a small smile. “Yes, thank you for the opportunity.” The horse beneath me shakes his mane, looking back at me. Probably asking for more scratches. I reach out and do what he bids me.
Mr. Reynolds makes a sound. I don’t know how to classify it. A grunt? “He likes you,” he says, as a matter of fact, something not to be questioned.
I shrug. “He enjoys scratches.”
“It’s a pity I don’t have enough hours in the day to spend more time with them. Beautiful creatures.”
“They are.” I look up to meet his eyes, and his gaze burns into me. Why does it feel like he means more than just the horses? Why do his eyes slide over my body like that?
I’m hypnotized by his gaze, locked in time, gaping at him. Mr. Reynolds is in jeans and a T-shirt today, but everything he wears is tight-fitted and looks expensive. Dark colors, well-pressed garments. He looks like he’s always ready for a meeting, or a helicopter ride, or a dinner out.
He looks like he smells fantastic too. Something in the pit of my stomach lurches. I should not be thinking about his smell. He’s my father’s boss, completely out of reach. An older, rich man who can have anyone he wants. He’s just being nice to me because of the getaway, I’m sure.
But the way his eyes eat me up as I bounce on top of the saddle... Am I imagining it? Am I doing something wrong, something ridiculous? He makes riding a horse look so basic, so easy... I probably look funny, the chubby girl on top of the beautiful animal.
No matter how much I tell that to myself, my body warms up.
Under his gaze, I catch fire. From the center of my chest to the tips of my fingers.
I press my lips together, trying to pry my gaze from him, but it’s impossible.
Even his horse is big, a huge, strong animal, all black fur and powerful muscles.
My mouth goes parched. I tense, my knees pressing into the sides of my horse.
The animal takes that as a sign. He picks up speed. I grip the reins tighter but don’t pull back.
Mr. Reynolds urges his horse closer again. “Do you want to gallop?”
I lick my lips. “Sure. I just hope I don’t fall.”
That sound again. A grunt. Deep in his chest. When I look up, he’s looking away.
“I would never let you get hurt.” And his words shoot straight into my heart.
I should not get excited about that, not when he wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt.
A part of me wants to feel special, when I know very well, I’m anything but.
“Raise yourself off the saddle a little. Keep your balance with your knees. Shorten the reins, but don’t pull them. ”
I do as he says, my heart racing. My horse starts at a gallop, and adrenaline shoots through my veins.
A grin slashes across my face, and I gasp with the thrill, the wind hitting my cheeks, throwing my hair back.
I keep my ass off the saddle, but the moves still make me bounce.
My hands on the horse’s neck, I let him pick up speed, and we race with the wind.
Mr. Reynolds’s horse catches up with us in no time. He leans forward, keeping his position as if it’s the most natural, least tiring thing in the world. I smile at him, and the corners of his lips tilt up. His dark eyes glint with the morning sun, and I’m lost in them as our horses race together.
It’s amazing and lasts way less than I hoped for.
My ass hurts from the hard saddle, and my thighs cry out with exhaustion, but when I see the stable again, I almost weep.
Sitting back down, I release my hold on the horse and he slows down, shaking his head in appreciation.
I give him more scratches as Mr. Reynolds guides me into the stable.
Looking over my shoulder, I see we’re alone. The others didn’t follow our gallop, and I like it. I like how it turned out to be something for just the two of us. Not that we have anything going on, but I enjoy the sweet fantasy.
The horses rustle closer to the stalls, and Mr. Reynolds drops from his in a swift move, propping the reins on a post. He turns to me, his barrel chest rising and falling with his breath.
“Can you come down?” he asks, his voice even scruffier than usual.
I lick my dry lips. “Maybe.” My legs tremble a little, and I hope I don’t fall on my face as I let go of the reins and get ready to get down.
I throw a leg from over the horse, but powerful hands grip me around the hips. A jolt races through me, and my muscles clench. I think the horse feels it because he steps sideways, and I almost lose my balance. Mr. Reynolds steps up, pressing his body to mine, and he lowers me to the ground.
So. Very. Slowly.
My back brushes down his chest, and my ass goes over the bulge in his pants. The hard bulge in his pants. My knees buckle when my feet hit the ground, but he keeps his hold on me still, our bodies pressed intimately together.
Awareness washes over me, shooting warmth to my cheeks. I keep holding the saddle, my eyes fastened on the horse as everything else disappears. Everything but Mr. Reynolds’s body pressed to mine, his arousal tucked into my ass for the merest of seconds.
Then he puts me down, and there’s such a height difference his cock brushes the small of my back. I want to arch my spine and rub myself all over him, but after a couple of aching beats of my heart, he steps away. His hands are still branded to my hips, keeping me standing.
He doesn’t say a thing. My chest heaves with my breath, and I don’t think I can look up at him. Tension coils low between my legs, and I hope to God he turns me to face him and takes me. Right now, right here.
Mr. Reynolds doesn’t. He finally lets go of me, albeit slowly, as if he’s regretting it. “You...” His voice fails, and he clears his throat. “You did a good job out there. You’re a natural.”
And when I whirl around, aching to see him, he’s already turned his back, striding out of the stable. The others catch up with us a moment later, and the only way I can justify the redness of my cheeks is the activity.
I don’t want it to but hope flares in my chest. This might break me, but I can’t help it. I can’t help but let this crush take me, and all I can think of the rest of the day is how his fingers touched me. Like we were a pair. Like I belonged to him.