Chapter 22 #2
I’m having plenty of fun. Only I can’t tell anyone that. Especially not Suzanne. She is one of my closest friends, but she has a big mouth.
“I’ll take it under advisement,” I reply.
“You do that.”
We stop outside the barn area where her horse is held until her race in about thirty minutes. I’m one of Arion’s trainers. Suzanne asked me to help with him when she first got him, and I will say, he’s one of the fastest horses I’ve ever worked with.
Along with being one of the most fun.
His speed and ability to control it is what makes him such a unique horse.
Partner that with Suzanne’s ability to ride, and it’s no wonder she wins as much as she does.
“How is Arion?” I ask. “Do you need me to look at anything?”
She shakes her head. “No, he needs his alone time before the race.”
I smile. “You really know him.”
“I do. He’s very good to me.”
“He is. Do you want some alone time?” I ask her.
One of the bronc riders passes by, staring at her with a tilt of his head. She grins and then looks to me. “You know, I think I might.”
I snort a laugh. “Sure you do.”
“Well, the other one was staring at you.”
I turn my head, and sure enough, another rider is grinning at me.
Only he’s a little short. The scruff on his face is sparse, his eyes are not a really nice color brown, more like a muddy brown than anything, and his shoulders are just a little narrow. Nothing like…oh, shit.
Nothing like Tristan.
I close my eyes and let out a heavy sigh, hating that once again that man has entered my thoughts. “I’m going to find my seat,” I tell her.
“Suit yourself.”
“Have fun,” I say, turning with a smile.
“Oh, I will.”
Keeping my head down, I start to walk out of the barn area, hoping to avoid eye contact and conversations, as I know half of these people.
I collide—hard—with someone.
“Shit!” I yell.
“Damn it!” the man says, his hands moving to my arms to stop me from falling sideways.
“Thank—” I start to say, but the word dies on my lips when, over the man’s shoulders, my eyes meet a pair of brown ones I have stared into before, only a few feet away.
“Miss? Are you okay?” the man I collided with asks.
I nod, still unable to look away.
He’s here.
Tristan is…at the rodeo.
Outside of the horse stalls.
He smiles, a lazy one that does all kinds of things to my stomach. He’s talking to one of the barrel racers I recognize, Hope. Ugh. I don’t like her.
And not because she has her hand on his arm. Not because she’s batting her long lashes at him, probably being all flirty.
“Oh, Tristan, you’re so cute. Wanna fuck in the hay?”
He would respond, “Why, yes, Hope, I’d love that. Who wouldn’t want to bang you?”
She’d giggle. “He-he, I know, I’m very…talented.”
I scoff at the idea and turn back to the person I ran into. “I’m sorry. Thank you for catching me.”
He smiles. “Of course. You’re all right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” He lifts the brim of his hat and walks off.
I turn back, ready to keep my head high, jealousy that I did not feel completely in check, and walk right past the lying said-he-wasn’t-going-to-be-here liar. Yes, I know I said lying twice. It bore mentioning a second time.
However, when I turn, he’s gone.
He and the little flirt who was touching him.
Ugh, get it together, Lark. You don’t care about other women when it comes to your nemesis.
No, I’m just having to remind myself of that because I’m a dumbass.
Whatever. This is perfect. I don’t even have to face him.
I start to walk, and suddenly there’s someone grabbing my arm, pulling me into a horse stall.
I scream, but a hand covers my mouth, trapping the sound.
Oh, God. I’m going to die.
Now I’m going to have to fight someone twice my size or…be raped or beaten or kidnapped.
My heart is pounding, against a very large, broad chest behind me. The man’s other arm wraps around my stomach, pulling me to him.
I close my eyes, hating that this is the end of my life. I’m going to die in a horse stall. How pathetic.
My mind races about all the things I didn’t do. Like punching Hope just once. It would’ve been fun. Or get married. Have babies. Make sure that my Olympia will go to Suzanne, because everyone else is stupid and undeserving.
I’ve never been to Italy. I’ve always wanted to go there.
I’ve never even been to the coast, seen the waves hitting the shoreline.
So many regrets.
So many dreams vanishing.
“Miss me, Lark?” the deep voice says against my neck.
My eyes pop open as the truth hits me.
It’s Tristan.
“I bet you did. I saw you staring.”
Oh, this asshole. Now I know I’m not going to die, but he is.
I raise my hand to his wrist, pulling it down. He lowers it and I turn. “You stupid prick!”
He blinks, head rearing back. “Hello to you too.”
“I thought I was going to die! You don’t grab a girl and pull her into the horse stalls.”
If looks could kill, he’d be dead. And I wouldn’t be sad about that. Not one bit.
He grins.
He might die anyway.
Then he starts to laugh softly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Ugh!” I huff, slapping his chest. “You’re so dead.”
Tristan pulls me to his chest. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I promise, I wasn’t going to hurt you.”
I glare up at him, his brown eyes boring into mine. “You’re not forgiven.”
“What if I promise to make it up to you?”
“Nope.”
“No? You won’t even let me try?”
Tristan’s playful tone is starting to thaw me, and I don’t like that. He should suffer. Be made to think some horrible punishment is about to befall him.
“No.”
His face moves in, the scruff of his beard scratching my neck. “Not even if you’ll feel good at the end?”
Do not cave, Lark.
“N-no,” I stutter as his tongue traces the shell of my ear.
“Hmm, I don’t mind working really hard for it.”
Oh, fuck my life.
“Tristan,” I say his name, and instead of it coming out strong and defiant, it’s more of a whimper.
Because…you know, he’s kissing my damn neck and hitting that spot right below my ear.
“Yes, sweetheart? Do you want me to make it up to you? To prove how truly, unbelievably, and wholeheartedly sorry I am?”
Yes. Yes. I do.
Instead of shoving him back, putting my foot down, and telling him I’m completely unimpressed by his arrival, my body betrays me, and my hand moves to the back of his neck, holding him there.
Again. Stupid.
“Say the word, Lark, and I’ll leave,” he promises.
I should do it. I know this. All the damn red flags are waving like those inflatable men outside the car wash, shaking to get my attention. I just…don’t care. I walk straight past them and go into the danger zone.
I move my head, inching closer to him.
“Stay,” I murmur, my mouth searching to find his.
He kisses me softly, then hungrily, and the passion is enough to set this barn on fire. His hands move down my body, plastering me tight against him.
It’s been days.
Just five freaking days without seeing him, and it feels like a lifetime. As though each hour was a piece of an eternity.
Being in his arms, kissing him, touching him, has messed with my head, and I don’t even give a shit.
He’s kissing me. I missed it. I want more.
I moan into his mouth, and he pulls us deeper into the stall. “Shh, you have to be quiet, sweetheart, or we’ll be caught.”
Then his mouth is back on mine. The voices of people walking around the stable add to the excitement.
Not that I want to be caught. Dear Lord, that would be the worst thing ever.
Tristan and I can’t ever be found out, especially not like this, but there’s a thrill to the fact that we could be caught.
He turns us, pressing my body against the back of the stall, hiding us even farther behind a stack of hay.
This is what a cowgirl’s dreams are made of. Sneaking around in the barn with the boy who is forbidden.
I mean, seriously, talk about a fantasy.
“Tristan,” I murmur against his lips. “Unbutton your pants.”
He groans softly and then moves his hands down. I lift my skirt, grateful for once that Suzanne picked out my outfit. She claims I have great legs and needed to show off a little honey to attract the bear.
I just had no idea it would be this one.
Well, I mean, I knew this would be the only one if there was one.
But he wasn’t supposed to be here.
“Now, right here?” he asks, his finger slipping between us, rubbing my clit.
I gasp, but his mouth is there to swallow the sound.
He pulls back. “Quiet, or I’ll have to stop.”
“Don’t you dare.”
Tristan’s eyes are like fire. “Turn around.” I do so immediately, and his hands are on my ass. “Hands on the wall.”
I lift them, pressing them flat against the cool wood.
I hear the tearing of the packet and then see it fall on the hay beside me.
Yes. Thank God.
His lips are against my ear again. “You want me to fuck you right here?”
I nod.
“Where anyone could walk in?”
I nod again. I really couldn’t care less if we were in the stands right now.
He takes my earlobe between his teeth and lifts my hips up. “God, I missed you too.”
He…what? Did he just admit to missing me?
Is that why he’s here?
Then a second later Tristan pushes my panties to the side and sinks in deep. My ability to speak is robbed and my breath is gone as he fucks me hard against the wall in a horse stall at the rodeo.