Chapter 10 #3
“Rae?” She’d grabbed my waist, pulling me into her chest. Our bodies aligned, chest to chest, hip to hip, breaths intermingled.
I panted; my mouth parted with the desire to say something.
Nothing came to mind. My brain fog returned, but it was far gentler than the one upstairs.
Instead of a headache, my thoughts floated just out of reach.
Not taunting, not frustrating, just hovering patiently in a blissful in-between state, allowing me a much-needed hiatus from worry.
“Are you okay?” Her brows pulled down, revealing creases that lingered long after she stopped frowning.
Octavia had a prologue of wrinkles in every corner of her face, echoes of expression.
There must have once been a time when she laughed so deeply her cheeks ached.
The hints of years and joy on her skin made her so beautiful I could barely process.
Her face was lightly scarred and soft with traces of stories.
“May have fractured my spine,” I whispered.
“You didn’t touch the ground.” She laughed a little, the movement jostling me along with her. I nearly shiver at the connection. My gaze flickered to her lips as she spoke. They were glossy red, round, and lush.
“Didn’t I?”
Her sigh was the amused kind. The kind that told me I might have a chance.
To do what? Win her over, and then what? She’s planted, sprouting roots while you don’t have a clue what you need from life…what you could offer.
Octavia’s grip on me loosened. I inhaled sharply, an overreaction to my failure to figure out how to keep her close for a second longer. Her hand paused on my waist at the noise, thumb slipping underneath the hem of my top. It was accidental, innocent, and right on my skin.
“What is it?” She stepped back—a torturous loss—scanning my body for the problem. “Your ankle?”
Sure, that throbbed, but it was dull; the ache of it only a murmur. “It’s fine.”
Octavia twisted her mouth to the side as she pulled her hand away, studying how I kept most of my weight on the uninjured leg. “You’re getting shoes in town.”
“I have shoes out of town.”
“I don’t want to see you prancing around in those heels after today.” Octavia’s voice was hard with dismissal.
I’d fought against others’ demands because I didn’t like being walked over. But here, I wanted to yield. Needed to follow Octavia’s order without a second thought because that seemed like the best way to be of service to her.
“And what if you do?” I asked because even if I wanted to (and would) yield, I wouldn’t feel complete without pushing a button or two.
Octavia backed away, laughing under her breath. “Try me, and we’ll see.”
The heat between my legs traveled up my stomach, taking a pit stop at my nipples.
“Try Kat.” Octavia’s expression was neutral once more, pressing while I stayed stuck in the mud. “She’s calmer today and looking forward to getting to town.”
I swallowed, watching Octavia flip her locs over her shoulders and mount Frog.
The top button on her work shirt popped open.
Now, whenever she moved, it revealed the slightest hint of the top of her breasts.
One had an oval-shaped birthmark across its curve.
I shook out my hands, refocusing on not noting tiny details about my client.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know riding can be a bit intimidating.” Her patience was back, gentle and reassuring. “I can pick up whatever you need in town.”
Octavia gripped Frog’s reins, and though he still seemed antsy with her, he was far more behaved, aware—and probably grateful—a seasoned rider was in control.
There would always be something infinitely attractive about a person who could defuse a situation.
Literally take the reins. Allowing me to let loose…
not that there would be any letting loose with Octavia. But a woman could dream.
“I need to meet the others at the library.” I gave Kat a sort of bow before petting her mane in hopes she sensed I had the utmost respect for her kind and remembered I also fed her a carrot once.
“Steady,” Octavia warned.
This time, the words were for me. Her discerning gaze noted how my shoe slipped in the stirrups and the frantic grip on Kat’s mane.
“You should keep the reins in your hand as you mount.” Octavia grabbed Kat’s reins and offered them to me. “Tugging on her mane is a surefire way to piss her off. And getting Kat pissed is usually a feat.”
I released the mane for the reins. “Pro tip.”
Octavia nodded and tugged on her reins to turn Frog toward the road. “Ready?”
“Yeah…just, how do you…” I readjusted in my seat, trying to get comfortable on the hard saddle.
My underwear had bunched up. Was there a particular type of underwear that horse riders used?
Or did they get used to the discomfort? A flash of Octavia in her underwear slipped through the cracks.
I blinked it away as soon as it came, lingering only for a second when the conjured image of her arched lower back came into focus.
“She’ll follow!” Octavia called over her shoulder, already a few paces ahead.
I opened my mouth, primed to disagree. But Kat sprang into action all by herself, trotting to catch up.