13. Carina
thirteen
Carina
“Y ou want to check out the horses?” Trav asked as I stepped out of the car.
He’d left the big SUV parked in the driveway behind a beat-up old Dodge that looked completely out of place in this picture-perfect ranch. The gardens were manicured, every single blade of grass trimmed to perfection. Flowerbeds ran the length of the veranda, and big trees dotted around the homestead provided some much-needed shade in the summer heat. It was cooler than in Vegas, but after having spent a few hours in air-conditioning, the warmth was a shock to the system.
I gestured to the boot of the SUV. “Should we put the bags inside first?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Leave them. We have plenty of time.”
Okay then. He clearly didn’t want me to go inside the house, and that was fine with me. I didn’t even know if that was where I was staying. There might very well be another house on the property. Either way, I could take a hint.
Jacques was spooked. I didn’t blame him—the ring on my finger was like a lead weight—I just hoped that we could fix this mess without too much bad publicity. Jacques had started getting messages almost the moment we’d walked back into the bedroom from the attached bathroom. He’d ignored every one of them.
My gut sank. I didn’t want to cause trouble for Jacques. I had no idea what the hell I was going to say to Sophia and Pierre. They deserved an explanation—one that was better than that we’d got drunkenly married and had a threesome—but that was all I had. And news of our threesome certainly wasn’t anything I wanted to share with them.
Travis beckoned to me, and I took his outstretched hand. He grinned at me, and I laughed at his happiness. It was a joy to witness someone so carefree.
He wrapped his beefy arm around my shoulders—muscles that I’d traced with my tongue the night before—and pressed a kiss to my temple. “We all moved here after Jacques got signed to the Seals. It’s a little ways out of the city, but we wanted that. Jacques is in the public eye, so we like having privacy.”
It was absolutely private, just like he said. The ranch looked to be a battle-axe block. The only street frontage was a ranch gate and a long driveway that wound around a hill to the sprawling property beyond. The trees around the homestead not only provided shade but meant that the house was barely visible when driving in.
“It is beautiful,” I agreed. “It’s so incredibly lush too. I always imagined anything past the first dunes in California being desert.”
Toward the back of the homestead, palms towered above us. There was a veritable jungle of plants in meandering beds bracketing the lawns. The shaded areas were wide and inviting. I slipped off my thongs, the soft grass underfoot so different to the concrete jungle of Vegas’s Strip. I wiggled my toes, delighting in the cool ground against my feet, and sighed happily. It was so different to my old house on the water, but I loved it here already. Peace seemed to envelop me, seeping into my bones.
Trav gestured to the hard-packed dirt pathway a few meters in front of us where the sun beat down on it. “It’ll be too hot for you in the sun to go barefoot,” he warned.
I nodded and slipped my feet back into my thongs.
He asked, “Have you ever ridden a horse?”
“I’ve never even seen a horse up close,” I confessed. “I’m a city girl through and through.”
“Well, let’s get you acquainted.” He grinned and looked me up and down.
I was in a pair of cotton pants and a light blouse—the first thing I’d grabbed when Jacques announced we had twenty minutes to dress, pack, and be downstairs to meet the rideshare.
“That’ll do,” he decided.
“For what? Riding?” I asked, equal parts terrified, excited, and horrified.
He pumped his brows and laughed. “You’ll see.”
The earthy scent of fresh hay and animals hit me when we walked into the barn.
“The horses are all in the pasture. We’ll get some saddles on a couple of them and go for a ride.”
“Ummm—” I hesitated, unsure of how to ask the question.
“It’s okay,” Trav reassured me. “Hazel is gentle. She’ll look after you.”
That actually wasn’t what I was concerned about, but hearing him say that quietened a worry I didn’t realize I’d had.
Past me would have said no to riding. Absolutely not. But Trav and Jacques had shown me yesterday that I was capable of having fun, that I didn’t need to hold on so tightly to everything now. Getting drunk married might have been a step too far, but it reminded me that I could be young. I could do something enjoyable without having to worry that my actions were going to look bad on the company. I was free from those restrictions. The me I was now wanted to try it.
“I’m not too heavy?”
Trav laughed and bent over, sweeping me off my feet. I squealed, and he laughed harder. One moment I was the right way up, the next I was upside down, bent over his shoulder with my big butt in the air. “You’re not too heavy at all, darlin’.”
I held onto his waist for dear life, my boobs smacking me in the face with every step he took. Trav had one arm wrapped around my calves and the other high up, curled around my thigh just below my pussy. My core muscles tightened, and I bit back a moan. This man—both of them, if I was being honest—just had to breathe to turn me on. But his touch? That was incendiary.
He stopped at a tack room filled with saddles and riding gear, then slowly lowered me to the ground. He hovered over me, and I backed up against the wall, needing the support for my wobbly legs.
“You going to do this with me?” he asked, his voice a deep rasp as he pressed himself against me.
Breathless, I responded, “I’m up for it.”
“You sure are.” Trav hooked his finger under my chin and stared at my lips.
I tunneled my fingers into his hair and tugged him closer, needing his touch. He crashed his lips to mine and swiped his tongue across my bottom lip. Moaning, I opened to him, and his kiss turned ravenous. He sucked on my tongue and slipped his hands around my waist to my ass. I moaned again, and his erection pulsed against my belly.
He hooked his hands under my ass and lifted me. Instinctively, I wrapped my legs around him and pressed my boobs against his chest. He ground his erection against my pussy, the move stealing my breath.
His kiss was like a wildfire—all-consuming—a spark igniting the kindling between us. He explored my mouth, his tongue dueling with mine as he thrust his hips against me over and over. His hardness made me wet, memories of that thick shaft sliding in and out of me adding fuel to the already out-of-control blaze burning inside me.
Both he and Jacques had made it clear this morning that they wanted more, but within moments, we’d been frantically getting dressed and dashing for the lifts. I thought things might have changed. But the way Trav owned me now left me in no doubt that I’d be sleeping with him again.
Trav eased me down, then pulled back, stepping away from me suddenly. Our chests heaved, and I rubbed my legs together, desperate for friction on my clit again.
He groaned. “Fuck, if you keep doing that….” He huffed out a breath and not so discreetly adjusted himself. “I’m taking you riding.”
***
Trav was right. Hazel was a sweetheart. Gentle and patient, she followed Trav and his big chestnut horse no matter how tightly I held the reins and jerked her head when I was freaking out.
We approached a stream that had flooded over a dip in the trail we were taking. My heart beat at a frenetic pace, and my breaths turned short. But Travis didn’t hesitate, guiding his horse down the undulating embankment.
“No, wait,” I called out to him as Duke, his horse, went to step into the water.
Trav turned, lowered his sunglasses, then squinted at me. “It’s okay. Just let Hazel navigate through it.”
“If it’s flooded, forget it,” I said, repeating the mantra we’d grown up with on the Gold Coast. Storms in South East Queensland were nothing to scoff at, and when our roads flooded, only idiots risked crossing them. Why was he taking his horse through it?
“This isn’t flooded,” he responded, his brows furrowed and his lips turned down in a frown. “It’s just a little stream—perfectly safe to cross. If you bring Hazel closer and toss me her reins, I’ll lead her through with Duke.”
I hadn’t realized I was pulling on the reins so tightly that Hazel had stopped walking. I eased off and clicked my tongue like Trav had shown me, and Hazel began her descent to the waterline. She was slower than Duke, probably understanding just how freaking nervous I was getting down there.
When I came alongside Trav, he took the reins and nudged Duke forward. I held the saddle in a white-knuckled grip while the horses navigated the water. They did it easily, not even getting their knees wet. But I was a nervous wreck.
“Do we have to come back this way?” I asked, a tremble in my voice.
Trav reached over and covered my hands with his. The warmth seeped through me, and I let go of the saddle to interlace my fingers with his. He held my hand, giving me a moment to get my confidence back. His silent support was exactly what I needed. He’d pushed my boundaries, getting me to do something that I’d balked at, but he made me feel safe and cared for. When I squeezed his fingers, he gestured back to the stream with a tilt of his head and finally answered my question.
“We do, but first there’s a swimming hole I want to take you to. We can go skinny-dipping before we head back.” He wiggled his eyebrows, a wicked grin tilting his lips up.
I giggled, and he passed me Hazel’s reins.
I looked around at the towering trees, palms, and ferns as well as the deep blue of the sky overhead and marveled at the beauty of this place. It really was an oasis tucked away in the fringes of the desert. We led the horses around the trees, following the stream deeper into the property.
“You said before that you all moved here after Jacques was drafted by the Seals. Does that mean there’s more roommates besides you and Jacques?”
Trav nodded and grinned. “Rusty’s here too. He was Jacques’s roomie in college. We decided to stay together when we finished.”
“So you can all hang shit on each other.” I smiled and shook my head. They must be close to have decided to stay together.
Trav laughed hesitantly, the sound slightly confused. “I don’t know what hang shit on each other is. No kink shaming here, but I might pass on scat play.”
“Oh!” I giggled. “Ew! Sorry, I meant that you each have stories about what one another got up to at college. You can dish the dirt.”
Trav grinned and tilted his head in thought. “There were lots of drunken frat parties. Usually, though, it was Jacques rescuing me while Rusty held up the wall.” He huffed out a laugh, and his cheeks turned pink. “Let’s not get into those. I’m a responsible adult who does adulty things.”
“Like gets drunk and goes along with the even drunker girl’s suggestion to marry his best friend.”
Trav barked out a laugh and pointed at me. “At least it wasn’t my idea!”
“Let me guess, you would have done it skydiving?”
“Nah. Maybe naked skydiving, though. Wanna do it with me?”
“Ah, no.” I huffed. “I prefer not to throw myself out of a perfectly good airplane. Clothes are always optional, though,” I teased.
His gaze scorched me. It was as if he was seeing right through what I was wearing and liked what he saw.
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” he asked after a moment.
I loved the playful banter between us. He kept me on my toes and made me laugh. It was refreshing after going through my divorce the past few months.
“What’s college like? I didn’t go given I had Cara so young.”
“It was wild. For most of us, it was the first time away from our parents. I’d been apart from them before, but I was finally free, you know? I partied hard. A lot.” He flashed me a smile, but it looked brittle for a moment until he schooled his features. Then it turned genuine, reaching his eyes, the crinkles around them so damn sexy. “Jacques was a machine—he ate, slept, trained, and studied. Rusty was, and still is, pretty introverted. He didn’t party with us all that much. But we hit it off and have had each other’s backs ever since.”
There was something he wasn’t telling me about their relationship. It wasn’t that it was weird to live with other men—I had friends in their forties who were happily single, perfectly successful, and decided to share their homes with roommates. It was more the way Trav spoke about Jacques and Rusty with a familiarity and fondness that reminded me of the way a person spoke about someone they were head over heels in love with. Was that it? Was Travis’s love unrequited?
“So you were the party animal?” I asked, and he shrugged, his grin still firmly in place. “I see not much has changed, then.”
Trav barked out a laugh and pointed to the swimming hole. We led the horses there, and Trav took them down to the water to drink.
“What did you study?” I asked, trying to figure out what career I could see him in. It was nothing behind a desk. Trav was far too active for that. Fitness of some sort, maybe nutrition or physiotherapy, perhaps.
“Fire science. I’m a firefighter.”
Huh.
I hadn’t expected that. Then I looked beyond the tree line at the wide-open spaces filled with dry grasses and thought about the countless suburbs of houses we’d driven past on the way to the homestead. There were a lot of ways being a firefighter could go wrong, so many hazards and so much danger.
“I… didn’t expect that. But I can see you in the uniform. Or out of it.”
“Y’all just want me on a calendar.” He lifted his shirt and showed me the deep-V of his Adonis belt.
I pointed to it and exclaimed, “Damn right,” with a laugh. “Y’all—is that Texan?”
“I am Texan, yeah.”
“Is your family still there? Do you visit much?”
He winced at my questions, and I wished I could take them back.
“I wouldn’t know.” His answer was final, brooking no further discussion.
Not that he’d get any pressure from me. I was more than happy to respect his desire not to talk about them if family was an off-limits topic for him.
“Should we go skinny-dipping?” I asked, disbelieving the words coming out of my mouth.
Trav’s grin returned, and he peeled his T-shirt off over those broad shoulders and dropped it to the ground, uncaring where it landed. When he kicked off his shorts, I saw that he was going commando, his semi bobbing as he toed his sneakers off too. Naked, he stepped toward me and hooked his finger under my chin, lifting my face to his. I’d been busted staring at him, but I didn’t have it in me to care. He was gorgeous. Every inch of him was perfection.
“Don’t leave me hanging, darlin’,” he murmured before pressing a whisper-soft kiss to my lips.
I swayed toward him, but he was already gone, dashing into the water and diving in once he got knee-deep.
I stripped, nervous about getting naked in the outdoors, but the rock pool was private enough, and I trusted Trav. Hell, it couldn’t be crazier than getting drunk married to Jacques.
I held my arms out, trying to balance as I waded into the water, but I still faltered, slipping and nearly overbalancing. Trav strode out of the water without hesitation, his erection proudly saluting me.
He scooped me into his arms and said, “Y’all’re okay. I’ve got you.” Once I was steady on my feet, he pulled back and let his gaze travel slowly down every inch of my exposed body. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
His words filled me, warmth tingling from my center to the tips of my fingers and toes. I hadn’t been called that in so long, and yet Jacques and Trav had said it to me over and over. They thought I was beautiful. Drunk or sober, their message had stayed the same. I turned them on. Me. The woman who’d lost every ounce of confidence I had. I had big boobs, a rounded belly, an ass that didn’t fit comfortably on standard-sized seats, cellulite, and stretch marks. I’d once loved my body. My ex’s betrayal had changed that. He’d swept my feet out from under me, and I’d felt ugly.
I’d only spent twenty-four hours with them, and they’d managed to restore much of the confidence I’d lost. They were giving me back a part of myself I genuinely wanted returned. Their appreciation was genuine, and I was beginning to find myself again.
Trav kissed my collarbone, then my breast as he sank to his knees, stopping to suck on my nipples on the way down. He went lower, kissing a trail down my belly and stopping only when he got to my mound.
“Hold on, darlin’, I want to make you scream.” He hitched my leg over his shoulder and lashed his tongue over my pussy.
I cried out and threaded my fingers into his hair, gripping him as he worked my clit. My hips rocked, seeking more of him, and he slid his fingers into me, hitting my G-spot dead-on.
My thighs quaked, and I tossed my head back and moaned long and loud. The breeze blew over my sweat-dampened skin, and my nipples tightened in the warmth of the dappled sunlight. I’d never been naked outdoors before. I’d never dared. My neighbors were always too close, and I was never brazen enough to push the envelope past a full-coverage one-piece swimsuit.
This… this was freedom.
This was living.
This was heaven.
I wanted to have this forever. I wanted to feel sexy and wanted. It was empowering. Being naked out here, this gorgeous man on his knees for me, was rapturous. It was wild and crazy. I never would have dreamed of it in the past, but now that I’d had it, I wanted it over and over again.
My orgasm hit me quickly, ecstasy surging in waves over my body as Trav kept working me until I could no longer stand. He eased me down, and I laid back, the shallow water lapping between my spread legs. The cool against my heated skin was a shock, and my nipples tightened once more, gooseflesh breaking out over my skin.
“Fuck, so sexy,” he growled as his hand flew over his dick. He squeezed the head of his cock, and a drop of precum coated his fingers. He used it to lube his shaft. His balls were drawn tight against his body, ready to shoot his seed onto me. “Want to paint you in my come.”
I lifted my hips, presenting my pussy to him. My boobs shifted, looking like the perkier pre-breastfeeding version I had when I was eighteen. Trav licked his lips, and I said, “Do it. Mark me.”
He groaned, and I kept going, loving how freeing it was to talk so dirty to a man. “Want you to breed me. Fill me up with your come until it’s dripping out of me.”
Trav shouted and pointed his dick straight at my pussy, his hand never slowing. He unloaded, pulse after pulse of thick, hot come landing on my mound and sliding down between my legs.
He collapsed forward, bracing himself on his arms. His softening dick rubbed against my clit, and I shivered, want pooling in me again.
“You’re going to need to get it up again soon,” I rasped.
“So needy,” he teased.
“God yes,” I agreed. “This—” I waved my hand around the swimming hole. “—being out here is liberating. Never in a million years did I think I’d be naked outdoors with a man as sexy as you. I had no idea how much I needed to experience it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I nodded and ran my fingertips over his chest and down his six-pack to the trimmed hair at the base of his cock.
“Good.” He reached down and gave himself a lazy pump. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the way his cock hardened again from his touch. His refractory period was next to nothing. “Because after I make you scream my name again, we’re going to finish our date. I’ll be all romantic and shit.”
“So sexy,” I giggled.
I hadn’t ever had so much fun during sex. Or doing anything, for that matter. My ex was serious. I’d loved it when we met. He was this older, more mature man. But now…. Now I wanted fun. I wanted lighthearted. I wanted laughter and teasing sexy times. I wanted Trav and Jacques. All I needed to do was figure out how to make this fling continue after the shit inevitably hit the fan.