The graying yearling stood on the far side of its pen, head turned toward the fence. Against his dark coat, the white freeze brand marking him as a BLM mustang stood out in stark relief. His black tail swished at an errant fly, ears twitching back and forth as the woman spoke softly to him. She’d touched him at the adoption event, knew she could get close to him, but here in his new home, he stood wary, ready to run at the slightest startle. Good thing she’d built his pen to specifications and he couldn’t escape, though he did have plenty of room to run.
He lowered his head. Blew hard and then began licking his lips. Hope swelled within Avery’s heart. All three were signs of acceptance, a willingness to share his space with her. She didn’t enter the pen, not yet. Instead, she wanted to take a few days to get to know Silvestre, as she’d started to call him. The name came from the Spanish word for wild, plus she loved the movie Silvester as a kid. The idea of taking an auction-bought horse and going to the highest levels of sport appealed to her, any equestrian really. She doubted there wasn’t a little horse crazy girl alive who dreamed of riding in the Olympics or in international competition. Her plans for Silvestre were simple, some trail rides, maybe some dressage or jumping if he showed aptitude. Most of all, she wanted to provide a safe home and make sure he never saw the pens and treatment he’d gotten at the hands of the BLM—men who cared nothing for the mustangs “managing” them for the interests of ranchers and mineral rights holders. She sighed and released a breath. Getting upset wouldn’t project the right energy at the yearling, and it certainly wasn’t his fault. He’d been born on the range in Nevada, rounded up by the government as a “nuisance.” Avery chuckled. She’d rather call the ranchers and miners the nuisance, but that kind of rhetoric didn’t do anyone any good, least of all the horses.
Avery Newsonne straightened from her perch against the fence and wiped her chestnut bangs out of her eyes. From the pasture, her horse, Miss Fancy, whinnied at her, impatient for attention. Jake, the donkey, gave a bray, which startled the yearling, though to his credit, he didn’t take off at a dead run, then resumed grazing. Harley, her old war mare who had won quite a bit on the track before getting hurt and needing a retirement home where she wouldn’t be ridden, glanced up, then just as quickly went back to eating. The trio had been her heart, her life, and then she’d gone to the adoption event and with a borrowed stock trailer, had brought Silvestre home.
“All right girl, I’ll take you out for a ride.” With one last glance at Silvestre, she headed for the barn.
~* * *~
Tanner James hated to disturb Avery. He loved watching her, from the long light brown hair she had pulled into a pony tail that went halfway down her back, to her rounded ass in those worn jeans. Her paddock boots scuffed paddock boots spoke of long hours in the barn and he had to agree with the saying on the back of her shirt, calling her the “horse mom”. He’d come to get his trailer back, but more than that he wanted to see her again. Erin had suggested he help her out with the adoption event and getting her adopted mustang back to her place. She’d ridden up with him, and though they’d first met that day, it seemed liked they’d known each other forever. He raised cattle on some rented land just down the road from 2 Hearts Rescue South, though he lived in town. He’d helped Erin out a time or two, and made a note to buy her a gift certificate to the barbecue place in town as a thank you for introducing him to Avery.
He shut the truck door behind him, noticing that she must not have heard him arrive. She’d been pretty engrossed in that colt; he had to admit it was a looker. Dust covered the toes of his boots and his pants since he’d been working in the hayloft before deciding to come and see how she was doing with the colt. He’d put on a clean button-down shirt open at the throat and washed his face, neck, arms, and hands, hoping to make a good impression. He left his hat hanging in the truck and quickly ran his fingers through his short brown hair. Satisfied that he wouldn’t make a complete fool of himself, he strode to the barn.
He paused to let his eyes adjust and smiled when he saw Avery bent over, picking out the hooves of a large, black mare with a glossy coat. The horse clearly was doted on, for she crooned softly to her as she cleaned out the hooves. Avery straightened, tucked the hoof pick in her pocket, and turned.
“Hi,” Tanner said.
She jumped at the sound of his voice, then laughed at her folly. “Hi. Didn’t hear you pull up.”
“Didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to see how you and colt were getting along.” He moved closer now until he reached out and ran a hand along the mare’s side. Her gaze followed the movement.
“We’re doing pretty good. I think he’s settling in.” She turned and picked up the saddle pad.
“That’s good to hear. He had kind of a rough trip down, but no doubt he was scared being taken away from his friends and everything he’d known. Going riding?” Tanner kicked himself for the obvious question. What else would she be doing, he thought, since she swung the English saddle over the horse’s back. By the time he’d tried to think up something witty to say, she’d fastened the girth and put a bridle on the horse.
“You can stay and watch, if you want. I won’t take too long.” She didn’t wait for an answer, just led the horse down the barn aisle.
Oh he’d like to watch all right. Wanted to watch her strip for him, that luscious auburn hair sliding over her shoulders to tease her breasts. He realized he was standing there like an idiot and followed her down the aisle to the arena.
~* * *~
Avery kept her ride short, no more than twenty-five minutes, and dismounted by the gate. Part of her wanted to ask what Tanner thought about it, then again she had no idea if he knew anything about English riding, though good fundamentals were important not matter the discipline. She’d seen him in boots and a cowboy hat most of the time, and he talked about his cattle, but she’d never even asked if he rode horses. She led Fancy back to the cross ties, Tanner following.
“You looked good. I could tell you have a real partnership with that mare.” Tanner leaned against the front an empty stall.
“Thanks.” She hid her grin behind Fancy’s neck. She pulled off the saddle and pad, turning the latter upside down over the saddle to dry, though Fancy had hardly worked up a sweat. She brushed the few sweat marks from the mare’s coat. “I need to turn her out. I’ll be right back.” She glanced at him, thinking how sexy he looked leaning against the stall, one booted foot crossed over the other. Her breath hitched; she hoped he had more in mind than checking up on the yearling.
Of course as soon as she was turned out, Fancy rolled, undoing all of Avery’s hard work in grooming the mare. Typical horse. She chuckled and returned to the barn to find Tanner had put her tack away and was folding up the saddle rack. He shrugged when he saw her. “Least I could do. Didn’t want to stand around like an idjit.”
“I don’t think anyone would ever think that.” Her heart warmed at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you. Are you sure you really came by just to see how Silvestre was doing? We could go outside and watch him if you want. He’s fine. Settling in nicely.”
“That’s good to hear.” A smile spread across his face. “And the horse wasn’t just the reason why I stopped by. I wanted to see you again.”
“Oh.” A blush crept over her cheeks, the heat in her face unmistakable. She glanced at the ground, then back at him. “I’m glad.” Her heart hammered like it did before a big competition. She called herself a hundred kinds of silly. He was just a guy, and yet…she wanted him to be more. “Thanks.” She stood awkwardly, trying to decide if she ought to ask him out, share her schedule, even give him her cell number. That sounded like a good start. “Why don’t I get your number? If cattle are like horses, your schedule probably gets a bit crazy.”
“Probably more so. Cows don’t have the good sense not to get hurt or calf in the middle of a severe thunderstorm.” They exchanged numbers.
“I don’t know about that. Horses do some pretty stupid things. Fancy managed to take us out of competition for three months because she cut herself on a tree branch that had fallen in a storm.” Avery chuckled, then stopped as she realized she was making small talk, and bad small talk at that.
“Would you like to go get dinner on Friday?” Tanner asked. He straightened and crossed the aisle to her. “I know a place off the beaten path that will make your mouth water and your taste buds dance. If you’re up to it, maybe we could dance too.” He reached out and smoothed several strands of her hair between his fingers where it’d come undone from beneath her helmet.
The caress might as well been on her bare skin, for she shivered and reached up to release the catch on her helmet. She slid it off her head, aware she probably had helmet hair and her pony tail was half undone. Tanner reached behind her, a little sweat not bothering him, and pulled the tie free, then ran his fingers through her hair.
“Mmm, I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you.” He leaned forward and kissed her.
The first brush of his lips against hers startled her, and she stiffened, then immediately relaxed as his mouth moved upon hers. He cupped her cheek and changed the angle of the kiss, deepening it. Her body melted, warm pleasure filling her limbs and chest, and she moved forward to loop an arm around his neck. Her breasts pressed against his chest, the firm wall of his muscles making her nipples instantly hard. Her sex grew hot, a pulsing ache beginning that forced a moan from her lips.
Tanner pressed his advantage. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, the lightest caress against hers, then rocked her against him. Bolder, he tasted her, and the thick ridge pressing against her stomach left no doubt to his arousal. She ran her fingers through his brown hair, his cowboy hat tumbling to the cement walkway. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized she’d dropped her helmet, that the impact probably meant she’d have to purchase a new one. It’d be a small price to pay for this kind of pleasure.
She pulled back and gulped a breath of air. “Tanner,” she said, her voice more like a whispered caress.
“Avery.” He didn’t realize her, though he did put a few more inches of space between them.
She breathed deeply, glanced down to see her helmet was on the ground next to her boots. “Friday then?” What she really wanted was to throw herself into his arms, maybe even take them into the tack room and make love to him on the couch. Slow down girl. This isn’t a race. She licked her lips and his gaze followed the movement.
“I’ll double check my schedule and let you know the time, but yeah. Friday.” He brushed his lips across hers again. “See you then.”
She watched him turn and a moment later his truck started and he pulled away. She sank down to a bale of hay and sat there, fanning herself. Well, that was unexpected, but she certainly didn’t mind. Friday couldn’t come soon enough.
~* * *~
He loved going to Hank’s for “all you can eat ribs”, though it might not be prudent to show a lady just how much he could eat. Might make her scared to cook for him. But Avery hadn’t bought into that crap he’d seen on the cover of women’s magazines at the grocery store about not eating in front of a date, because she just about matched him rib for rib, at least until they brought the second platter. Then she’d slowed down, though she’d requested a take home container for some left overs.
The Friday night band started to play a lively country tune, and he watched to see how she’d take the music. She didn’t strike him as the country music type, not with her English saddle and the low black boots she wore. He hadn’t seen a cowboy hat or even a rowled spur in her tack room, but she smiled and nodded along, and when the waitress came with the check, she stepped out for a moment to put the container in her truck. If he was buying, she was driving, she’d told him, and he’d grudgingly accepted.
When she came back, she held out her hand. “Want to dance?”
“Yeah. I’d like that.” The idea of having Avery in his arms for a nice slow dance had his groin tightening. He took her hand, leading her onto the dance floor where several other couples swayed to the music. The song changed to a slow one as he pulled her toward him and rested his hand on her waist. Her short denim skirt showed off her long legs, sexy in those low heeled black boots—paddock boots—he thought they were called. Her light blue shirt was sleeveless, opened enough so he could catch shadowy glimpses of the rounded curves of her breasts, and when she slid her hands from his shoulders to clasp them behind his neck, she pressed those delicious globes against him. Their thighs brushed. Heat burned through him. He tightened his fingers at her hip, drawing her closer to him.
A voice in the back of his mind warned him that perhaps he moved too quickly. Avery didn’t seem to mind, not when she rested her head against his chest and let out a contented little sigh. He wished he could stroke her body, see what else would make her sigh and moan. Not here, not in public, and though the music played in the background, their bodies moved to a rhythm all their own.
One song merged into another. Avery snuggled against him. He nuzzled her neck, breathing in the floral scent of her hair and skin. His hands slid lower, caressing her rounded, muscled ass, and he longed to take her somewhere and continue this dance in private. The set ended and the band announced they were taking a break.
Avery stepped back. She brushed her thumb over his chin and smiled. “Come back to my place, cowboy?” The sexy way she purred the pet name had his cock twitching.
“Never thought you’d ask.” He led her, his hand clasped in hers, from the restaurant and to their trucks. For a moment he thought about asking her to ride with him, then knew better. Avery protected that truck the way she protected her horses. He waited until she turned on the engine and headlights, then led the way out of the parking lot.
~* * *~
The drive back to her farm never took so long as it did with Tanner following her. Heat radiated from her hip, a remembrance of where he was touching her. Just thinking about taking him back to her house, bringing him upstairs to her bedroom had her heart quickening. Had she cleaned her room? Did she leave underwear out? Did it matter?
She parked in the garage, Tanner right behind. He met her at the door, smiling as she hit the garage door opener to close the door and unlocked her kitchen door. Once inside, she turned and latched the door to find Tanner there. He pressed her against the wall, his hands hungry on her hips and waist. He kissed her, no more tentative nuzzles now. His mouth moved over hers with hungry deliberation. Sliding a thigh between hers, he reached down and curled his fingers around the hem of her short skirt. She moaned into his mouth.
He took advantage, stroking her lower lip with his tongue. All the fantasies she’d had about Tanner—and she’d had quite a few—none of them compared. Fisting her hand in his shirt, she tugged it free from his jeans, the cool metal of his belt buckle only heightening her pleasure as she brushed it with her knuckles. She reached for his skin, the first touch of his muscled abs, the arrow of hair leading beneath that belt buckle, enticing her for more. She popped open the snaps on his western shirt and splayed her hands across his chest.
Tanner groaned. He pulled her skirt up until her ass rested against the cool wall. He stroked the edge of her thong. “Fuck,” he growled. “You’re going to kill me.” He slid his fingers lower, finding her wet and ready for him. “Oh yeah, killing me.”
She grinned against his neck and gave a gentle love nip. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, “I know how to ride western.”
He pushed the edge of her thong aside to brush her wet folds with his knuckle. He found her nub and stroked it, a back and forth that had her writhing against him. They weren’t making it upstairs to her bedroom. Not when she ached to have his finger, his cock…anything inside her. Her breath came in short pants, the smell of her own arousal filling her nostril. She had to touch him.
She fumbled with his belt buckle, finally freeing the clasp. She unbuttoned his jeans and gently slid down the zipper. His cock surged against the fabric of his underwear, and she curled her fingers around his hot length.
Tanner groaned.
Avery licked her lips, her mouth watering for a taste of him. With gentle hands, she freed him and curled her fingers around his length, stroking from base to tip. Her thumb brushed the drops of fluid on the tip, smoothing them into his skin. She lifted her thumb to her lips and tasted him.
“Two can play at that game.” He shoved her thong down so it wound around her knees, then slipped his fingers past her slick labia to gather her juices. He brought his fingers to his mouth, licking as if he had an ice cream on a hot day. “Mmm, delicious.” He held his fingers out to her. “Want to taste?”
How could she say no when he was nudging her thighs apart, and all she could think about was getting his cock inside of her. Leaning forward, she licked his fingers, the unique flavor of her cream not unpleasant. “I’d much rather be licking you.” She grabbed his wrist and brought his hand to her mouth to treat his index finger like his cock, swirling her tongue around the end before drawing it completely into her mouth. She sucked hard enough to make his hips buck.
He pulled back enough to bend down and pull her panties off her legs. Grabbing the back of her thigh, he lifted it along his hips, his cock brushing her sensitive skin. “I want you right now.” Grabbing her ass, he lifted her so she wrapped her legs around his hips. A bit of adjustment and then the head of his cock touched her swollen labia, pushing past them until he seated himself inside her. One thrust brought him all the way.
She cried out at the spasm of pleasure that contracted her muscles around him. Grabbing his shoulders, she ground against him.
Tanner thrust hard and deep, making her cry out each time he slid home. Clinging to him, she rode his thrusts, the pleasure peaking inside her. With her inner muscles tightening, her skin zinging from his touch, she could only hold on as he drove her higher and higher. Heat radiated from where he touched her. Sweat beaded on her skin. Still, she focused on the man in front of her, his marvelous hands and cock as they pushed her toward the pinnacle of release. With one, final thrust he ground against her, the pressure against her clit sending her over the edge. She cried out as her body spasmed around his, drawing him even deeper inside her. A moment later he followed, a hoarse shout and the pulses of his cock as he spilled inside her announcing his own satisfaction.
For long moments he held her pinned between his body and the wall, their panting breaths gradually slowing. Avery became aware of the cool wall against her back, the way her thighs strained from clamping into him. “Upstairs?” she whispered, turning to nuzzle and kiss his neck.
“Yeah.” He gently supported her while she lowered her legs and moved away from the wall. “Your bedroom?”
She nodded, scooping her thong up with a flush of heat across her cheeks. She’d never done anything like that before, yet Tanner made her want to rip off his clothes, lay him down on her dining room table, and have his way with her. As she led him to the stairs, she realized just how sticky her inner thighs were with their juices. Protection. They hadn’t used it. At least she was on the pill due to hormonal stuff, but damn, she never let things get too far for safety. She led him up the stairs and to the door at the end of the hall that led to her bedroom.
A whinny from outside caught her attention. The bright yard flood light was on—motion detected—and she cursed under her breath as she dropped her skirt and automatically reached for a pair of jeans, thankful they were boot cut. Glancing at Tanner, she realized he’d righted his pants; he must have done that before following her upstairs. She glanced out the window to see Silvestre trotting around, somehow having escaped his pen.
She cursed again. “Silvestre’s out.” She yanked on her jeans and bolted for the door, any residual arousal rapidly fading away. Behind her, Tanner’s feet on the stair treads echoed. She hit the front door at a dead run, pausing only to grab the extra halter and lead rope she’d kept on the porch in case of emergencies just like this. “Go to the barn. Get me a bucket of grain.” She’d worked with him for a while, but had no idea if he’d follow for food. She hoped so.
Tanner nodded and she watched him just long enough to make sure he headed to the barn.
Stopping just beyond the front steps, she took a deep breath to calm herself. Racing at this formerly wild colt wouldn’t do either of them any good, and with the road too close for comfort, might make the situation worse. She stepped forward, moving with purpose, an “I’m going to catch you” determination in her gaze.
Silvestre stopped. The colt’s tail flagged, indicating his high spirits. He probably thought this was a great game. He snorted and shook his head.
“Hey, handsome,” Avery spoke in a calming tone of voice, never mind that her stomach rolled with the power of a thousand butterflies. “You exploring?” She held out her hand as if she had a treat in it, something he’d started to recognize.
The colt lowered his head.
“Good boy,” she crooned, getting closer. At last, she laid her hand on his shoulder, noticing it was wet with sweat. She wondered how long he’d been running free while she’d been enjoying herself with Tanner. “That’s my boy.” She slid the lead rope around his neck, holding it and moved to slip the halter over his nose.
A motorcycle roared past on the highway.
Silvestre jerked his head, pulling both the halter and lead rope out of Avery’s hands. She cursed at the sting of rope burn and lunged for the colt. He lunged, not for the barn or his corral, but for the road. Avery bolted after him, pausing to scoop up the halter and lead rope when it slid off the colt a few paces away. “Tanner,” she called.
“Here.” He shoved the bucket of grain into her hands and triangulated the colt’s position, working to intercept him and the road.
Avery shook the bucket. “Silvestre. Hey handsome. Food.” Through gulps of air, she worked to bring her energy back to normal. “Hey buddy. Supper.” She shook the bucket again.
The colt stopped, ears pricked.
Avery nodded, noticing Tanner had made his way between the colt and the road, and he’d had the foresight to loop halter and lead rope over his shoulder. He held something else in his hand, and she realized it was a rope, which he began to twirl into loops. Oh god, he was going to try to cowboy her wild colt!
“Silvestre. Dinner.” She kept the bucket outstretched, shaking it so he could hear, and hopefully smell, the grain inside. She was thankful he’d grabbed from the bin of sweet feed, which she used as a treat and not the colt’s regular pellets. The molasses oats and corn would be far more tempting.
Silvestre stepped forward.
“Good boy.” She gave the bucket another shake.
He stepped forward again, stopping when a car zoomed past. Muscles quivering, he glanced to the road, then to her and the bucket. He lowered his head, then bolted.
“Damn it,” she growled, hurrying after him with the bucket. “Silvestre,” she called, but it was too late. The colt had enough, and began bucking across the driveway.
Tanner swung the rope.
Avery stopped, holding her breath as it settled over the colt’s head, sliding down towards the place where his neck met his chest. The colt skidded as the rope pulled tight, then pulled and twisted, trying to free himself. She hurried closer, thinking what horrible memories of his roundup and transfer at the hands of the BLM must be going through his mind. She paused just beyond the reach of his hooves, and as soon as he stopped, she slipped the halter over his head, and stood there, rubbing on his neck, both of them panting hard.
Tanner put slack in the rope, but didn’t let go.
Silvestre shoved his nose into the bucket and nibbled.
“Good boy. Let’s get you back.” Slowly, since she hadn’t worked with him on leading, she led him back to his corral, his nose in the bucket the entire time.
Thankfully the colt, like most horses, followed his food, and he was in his pen where Avery dumped the rest of the feed into his pan so he could be rewarded. She unhooked the lead rope, but left the halter on just in case, and helped Tanner unfasten his rope so it fell free from the colt’s neck. Avery leaned against the corral wall and sighed, her knees shaking from adrenaline.
“Oh god. I thought I was going to lose him.” She bit her lip, wanting so badly to wrap her arms around the colt’s neck and hug him, but also knowing he was still too wild for that yet, though clearly they were making progress. She turned to Tanner. “Thank you.” She grabbed him and hugged him, knowing if he hadn’t been there she might have lost her colt. “Thank you.”
He held her tight and something shifted within her. When she pulled back and left Silvestre to clean up the last morsels in peace, she double checked the latch to make sure it was tight. He handed her the halter and lead rope he’d grabbed from the barn, and she deposited it on the spare hook on her porch as they made their way back into the house.
“Just glad I was here to help.” He set his rope on the chair by the door and kicked off his boots. “You’ve got your work cut out for you with the colt.”
“Yeah I do,” she agreed, pouring herself a glass of water and offering one to him, wishing she had a bottle of wine or something stronger. She felt like she needed it. “But you were here. My hero. My cowboy hero.”
Tanner chuckled. “I don’t know about that, but I am glad I was here, and not just because we made love.”
The casual way he used the words made her heart flutter. “Me too. Want to go back upstairs and finish what we started?” She finished her drink and reached for his hand.
Tanner tangled his fingers with hers, pulling her into his arms. “Can I use my rope?” His warm breath teased the shell of her ear.
Avery shuddered at the image of herself tied up and at his mercy. “Only if I get to ride you hard first.” Her pussy clenched at the thought of straddling his hips and taking his cock inside her.
His husky chuckle made her insides tremble as he led her to the stairs, as did the fact that he picked up her rope. He may have come to her rescue with the horse, but she realized this cowboy may have roped her good—and she didn’t want to break free. They shed clothes all the way up the stairs, and when they reached her bedroom door, she pulled him inside. Time to make good on both of their promises as they tumbled onto the bed together.