Sam took an all-terrain vehicle to the stables, adjacent to the indoor and outdoor arenas. There were several trucks in the drive. Some belonging to his employees, who maintained the grounds and facilities. A couple belonging to his students or their parents.
Sam had learned from Phil Bert how to train horses and riders. Sam had been into roping at first, upon his first exposure to horses. Then he’d taken an interest in jumping. Had studied the mechanics of it, spent time at competitions to catalog everything associated with the approach, takeoff, and execution. Had competed himself. Sam had a natural talent for riding, and his horses had always been sturdy and steady beneath him.
He’d also spent ample time observing as Phil Bert had instructed champion riders of various ages and stages of expertise.
Bonding with a horse was probably one of the greatest joys in life, Sam surmised. They were intelligent, fascinating creatures. They emitted and absorbed emotion. And, quite frankly, when you were mostly an inner-city kid who’d never visited so much as a petting zoo suddenly being surrounded by these magnificent animals—and watching them soar through the air, clearing fence after fence—was not only thrilling but also therapeutic.
Maybe that was why Sam preferred viewing and studying “free jumping.” The absence of a rider gave the horse freedom from that additional weight burden, and Sam could evaluate the animal’s skills and trajectory. Its temperament and fluidity. Just admire it for its grace and beauty.
Sam headed into the enclosed arena and spent a couple of hours with two junior female jumpers. Then he stopped into the stables, where more of his employees tended to the horses. The stalls were large and each one had an attached outdoor corral. Sam tried to create as much room as he could for the horses to safely roam. And he was fortunate to have a number of skilled trainers and caretakers on hand. Even the vet stopped by once a day. Inclement weather be damned.
Sam made the rounds with the horses, because he enjoyed their company and always wanted to ensure they were in tip-top shape. Then he went to the utility sink to wash up, cranking on the faucet.
“Son of a bitch!” He swore a blue streak as water shot out, drenching his T-shirt and face.
Sixty-something gray-haired Winston “Win” Daughtry ambled from the main office and asked, “Everything okay, boss?”
Sam tossed him a smirk. Flicked a hand at his wet chest. “Does it look like everything’s okay?”
Win chuckled. “Sorry about that, boss. I forgot to tell you the faucet’s broke. I called Harvey. He’s coming out tomorrow. So, uh … Don’t use the sink until then.”
Sam yanked a few paper towels from the dispenser, pressed them to his chest, and sardonically said, “Thanks for the heads-up.”
His employee and friend told him, “I would have mentioned it sooner, but I’ve been on the phone with Jeanette Hadley, who’s willing to come up from Phoenix and work with Layton Travers and his horse to help groom them for nationals. Like you wanted.”
“Layton’s ready for the big time. Jeanette will be an additional asset to his training.”
“So good news there. Might wanna change your shirt, though.” Win returned to the office.
It was noon, so Sam made his way to the house. He found Scarlet at the dining table tapping rapidly on the keyboard of her laptop while also speaking into her Bluetooth earpiece. She’d taken a shower and changed into a sweater and jeans with hiking boots. Too bad. He’d liked her in his clothes. Liked her bare legs even more.
When he entered she dropped off her call and said, “I made venison stew with the leftover roast. I hope you don’t mind. I got the recipe off the Internet and it was really about the only thing I could whip up. Not so handy in the kitchen, you know?”
“I think you’ve been doing just fine.” He went down on his haunches to get a good look at Rudy, huddled under the table at Scarlet’s feet. “And you are definitely loving every minute of it.”
“He yipped,” she said.
Sam’s head popped up. “Pardon me?”
She snapped the lid of her computer closed and said, “He heard a noise coming from the driveway, took a few seconds to decide whether he actually wanted to get to his feet, finally did, then yipped. Just once. A little one. It was cute. Not exactly authoritative, but let’s keep that between the two of us. No need to give him any sort of inferiority complex.”
Sam grinned. “He must’ve heard Brent with the snow mover. Comes by after a good dumping and clears it all out so folks can get up that long drive.”
“Lots of activity around here.”
“Yeah, it’s kind of nice.”
“And what’s with the wet look?”
Sam glanced down at his soaked chest. “Small accident in the stables.” He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up. Then he stalked into the laundry room. Went to the back where the machines were, stripped off his shirt, and tossed it into the dryer. He grabbed a clean T-shirt from a recently folded load on the shelf and turned to head into the kitchen.
Scarlet was standing along the pantry counter, where she’d apparently been gathering a few treats for Rudy from the box. But her gaze was fixated on Sam, her hand mid-air. She gaped.
A surge of testosterone had him taking a few steps toward her, another grin on his face.
The long cords of her neck pulled tight as she drew in a deep breath.
Sam said, “Like what you see, darlin’?”
She was drinking him in. Looking a bit spellbound.
He closed the gap between them, until they were mere inches from each other. He tossed the shirt on the counter. Placed a hand on her hip. She released the treats in her fist and instead gripped the granite ledge behind her.
Sam’s thumb slid under the hem of her sweater and swept over her silky skin. Brushing back and forth.
His head lowered to hers and he said, “No mixed signals here. I’m telling you exactly what I want. Touch me, Scarlet.”
She continued to stare at him. The anticipation mounted. His cock throbbed in wild beats.
Finally, she pried her good hand from the ledge and her nails skated over his abs, the light touch causing his muscles to flex. Her fingertips moved slowly upward to his pecs. She clearly marveled over him and that excited him even more.
As her palm skimmed over his shoulder and down his biceps, she offered him her other hand. “Take the bandage off.”
He carefully removed it. Then she used both hands to roam his chest and stomach. His back. Setting inch of him ablaze. Until he couldn’t stand the torment another second and his mouth pressed to hers for but a brief moment before their lips parted and their tongues tangled.
He kissed her deeply, passionately. Red-hot desire flashed through him. An erotic awakening only she could spark. Her fingers threaded through his hair as she succumbed to him, let him pull her in, kiss her more fervently. His hand slipped under her sweater and grazed her rib cage before he cupped her breast and squeezed. A bit roughly, no doubt conveying his need for her.
His other arm encircled her waist, keeping her close to him. Christ, she made him hard. So quickly, so painfully. All he could think of was sliding into her warm, wet depths.
Well, he had something else in mind first.
Breaking the kiss, he shoved the sweater up and over her head, heaping it on top of his discarded shirt. He palmed her breasts and kneaded them through the lacy material of her bra as his lips glided over her throat. A soft moan escaped her, spurring him on. Jesus … making him even harder.
“You feel incredible in my hands,” he murmured against her skin. And felt the shiver run through her.
“I have extremely sensitive nipples.”
Sam groaned. His pulse jumped. He peeled back the lace from one breast, tucking it under the plump mound. The pad of his thumb whisked over the taut center. She pulled in a sharp breath. He pinched and rolled the little bud, tightening it further. Her chest rose and fell heavily. Her fingers in his hair tugged on the strands and her body writhed against his.
Sam cupped her breast again, bent his head, and curled his tongue around her nipple, then fluttered the tip over the pebbled peak.
“Oh, God,” she said on a throaty sigh. “That makes me crazy.”
“I’m going to do more than that,” he assured her. “I’m going to make you come.”
He drew her nipple into his mouth. Sucked hard.
“Sam!” she cried out.
As he tongued the puckered bead, one hand pressed to the small of her back and the other went between her legs, his fingers massaging, teasing her through her jeans.
She clasped his biceps, her nails digging into rigid sinew. He could feel her tremors and he suckled again, inciting a fierce tremor within her that reverberated to his core.
“You’re making me so wet,” she whispered.
That drove him out of his mind.
He deftly unbuttoned her pants and slid the zipper down the track.
“I want you dripping for me,” he said. His hand slipped into her thong panties. He rubbed her clit as his mouth returned to hers.
He kissed her heatedly. Greedily. All the reservations—the demons—that had been tormenting him since he’d met this woman didn’t stand a chance of holding him back now that he’d tasted her lips, caused her body to respond ardently to him, felt the tiny pearl between her legs swell under his touch.
She released her vise grip on him and twined her arms around his neck, clinging to him. Her breasts were pressed to his chest, one still covered in lace that rasped over his skin, taunting him as much as the nipple he’d exposed.
God, she felt like a slice of heaven as she squirmed in his loose embrace, her arms tightening as though she couldn’t get close enough to him.
His hand at the small of her back slipped lower into her jeans, his fingers easing beyond the thin strand of her thong nestled in her cleft. He penetrated her pussy from behind, working two fingers into her slick, narrow canal while he continued a slow, circular motion on her clit.
And damn, she really was dripping for him.
He tore his mouth from hers and lightly bit his way down her neck as she moaned and writhed. Her inner walls contracted around his fingers, released, contracted stronger, insistently.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” he murmured.
“Yes. God, yes.”
He picked up the pace at her apex, stroked her pussy quicker. Her breathing escalated. Her fingers twisted in his hair again.
“Sam,” she said, her wisps of air teasing his temple. “I want you between my legs, crushing me beneath you, with all of these muscles against my body, surrounding me.”
“You want me inside you.”
“Yes. Desperately.”
The urgency in her voice called to him, struck all the right chords.
“Come for me first,” he quietly demanded. Then drew her nipple into his mouth with a forceful suction that jolted her.
Her breath caught and her body tensed.
A heartbeat later, she called out, “Sam!” as she shattered, every inch of her quaking. “Oh, fuck,” she said. “Oh, God.”
She held fast to him and her orgasm. Whimpering softly.
Sam waited until she was a little steadier on her feet and her body relaxed a bit. Then he withdrew from her and palmed her ass cheeks. He lifted her up and her legs instantly wrapped around his hips. He carried her through the kitchen to the couch he’d slept on the night before, the sheet still draped over the distressed-leather cushions, a fur blanket tossed over the back of the sofa. There was a mound of pillows in the corner, and he settled Scarlet there.
He hastily whipped off her hiking boots, which looked to be brand-new, followed by her socks and jeans. He paused, simply taking in the arousing sight of her in skimpy white lace.
A strangled sound lodged in his throat. “Damn, you’re gorgeous.”
Her gaze followed his, along her body. Her lingerie was slightly disheveled. “I’m a mess.”
“One hell of a sexy mess,” he said, lust tinging his tone.
“So why are you still standing there?” She crooked a finger at him. “We should be naked by now.”
“I’m all for naked.” He toed off his boots, then ripped open the fly of his Levi’s and shoved the denim down his thighs.
A sharp, “Oh,” fell from Scarlet’s parted lips. Her emerald eyes feasted on the bulge in his shorts.
Sam rid himself of the rest of his clothing, then had her out of her bra and panties two seconds later.
As he joined her, he asked, “Did Michael use a condom?”
“No. And, yes, that part was reckless. But I did believe him when he told me gets tested.”
“He does. So do I. Though I was very careful during my short-lived promiscuity.”
“I’m not holding that against you, Sam.” She swept hair from his forehead. “Everyone copes differently.”
“I don’t mean to press my luck here, but—”
“I want you to come inside me.” She stared into his eyes. “I want to feel you—all of you.”
His lips skimmed over hers, so warm and soft, like the rest of her. He loved having her beneath him, their bodies melded together, his cock gliding over her slick folds with each deep breath they took.
“You make me so damn hard,” he said. “I didn’t think I could get this hot for someone.”
“I like that you took your time reaching this place in your mind. I understand, you know?” She kissed him.
Sam could easily lose himself in this woman. And he wasn’t even inside her yet. Was merely savoring every single second of flesh on flesh. Her wicked tongue twisting with his. Her hands skating down his back and to his ass. She gripped his cheeks and squeezed.
A silent plea.
One he answered by shifting his pelvis ever so slightly until his tip nudged her opening. Her nails dug into his butt. His pulse spiked. His cock thrust into her.
She broke their kiss and cried out.
Sam’s hips rocked with hers as he pumped slowly.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he said against her lips. “So wet.”
His shaft slid smoothly along her inner walls. He slung one of her legs over his hips, forcing her to relinquish her hold on him. Her palms flattened against his shoulder blades instead, keeping him plastered to her. Sam’s hand on her ass angled her hips just so and he plunged deeper into her. They easily fell into a sensual rhythm that had them grinding together and Scarlet opening further to him.
“Yes,” she whispered. “You feel amazing.”
His thrusts were long and full, unhurried despite the adrenaline rushing through his veins. He kissed her possessively, amping up the passion and the need that arced between them.
This wasn’t at all what he’d experienced with those other women, following cassidy’s death. Those encounters had been brief. Minimal to no kissing. Mostly anonymous with her bent over a desk in a hotel room or pressed up against the door. Quick and physically gratifying, but no more than that.
With Scarlet, he could stay buried in her warm depths forever. She moved in sync with him. Tasted as sensational as she felt. Even the hint of her floral perfume seduced and enticed him. Sam was completely consumed by desire, but she also stirred something inside him. Tugged at heartstrings he’d long since thought had been severed.
Also knowing that she’d been with Michael sparked dark yearnings. Sam couldn’t help but think of how mind-blowing it would be for him and his stepbrother to pleasure her at the same time. Turn her soft whimpers into throaty moans. Make her come twice as hard.
Spurred by that fantasy, his hand glided along the cleft of her ass, down to where their bodies were joined, and he collected some of her cream on his middle finger, then circled the rim of her anus.
He asked, “Did Michael—”
“No,” she hastily said in a breathy tone. “Not there.”
“Has anyone been here?”
“Just toys.”
Fire roared through him. “That’s good to know.” In terms both of him being her first—and the fact that she was already primed for what he wanted to do to her.
As he pumped into her pussy, his finger penetrated the small hole and she let out an excited cry.
Sam’s hips rocked faster and she maintained the tempo with him. He drove deep, working her from both angles. Her broken breaths filled the quiet room and resonated within him, pushing him close to the edge.
Her body felt so fucking good against his, and she milked his shaft with her inner muscles, clenching and releasing until his own breathing was ragged and his pulse echoed in his ears. His heart hammered and the blood in his cock surged and throbbed.
He kissed her once more, turned on by her supple lips and velvety tongue. His hips bucked harder, faster. She didn’t miss a beat. Her nails clawed at his back and her leg that was wrapped around his waist tightened so that he was pinioned to her.
Shudders ran through her. She practically vibrated beneath him.
Tearing his mouth from hers, Sam murmured, “Come for me.”
“I couldn’t stop it if I tried.” Her eyes glimmered and danced. Her cheeks were rosy and her lips were swollen from his kisses.
She was even more stunning in the throes of passion, and Sam committed every little thing about her to memory.
“You’re so deep inside me,” she said. “Perfect spot. It’s so fantastic—everything you do to me is so incredible.”
He would have kissed her again, but she clamped down on her lower lip. Her eyelids dipped. Her pussy clutched him firmly and Sam thrust harder into her.
“Yes,” she moaned. Her head fell back. “Oh, God, yes. Just like that.”
He kept pumping, pushing her higher.
“Yes,” she said. “Oh, Christ—yes!”
She squeezed him tighter and called out his name. Sam lost it, too.
“Ah, fuck!” His body convulsed, his cock pulsated, and he filled her pussy with his hot cum as she continued to move with him, drawing out every ounce of their orgasms.
Sam hadn’t thought he could ever come so explosively after Cassidy.
He’d been wrong. Way wrong.