Kayla's Cowboy Fantasy (Delta of Venus Inc.) (4 page)

Ahead of her and on the right, there was a red barn. As she drew closer, she saw the smiling cow. This was it. She pulled over to the side of the road to get her bearings and slow her elevated heart rate.

Calm demeanor in place, she put the car back in gear and drove past the shiny red barn until she came to a gated driveway several miles up the road. The gate was open, so she slowly drove up the winding road until she came to a massive, modern stable surrounded by several empty, fenced pastures. No one appeared to be around, but she was early, as usual. She liked to have time to get organized before a meeting. Even one as unorthodox as this one.

She couldn't help but notice how modern and tidy this building was compared to the musky, dilapidated shack her family had used to shelter their two mangy horses and single milk cow. This stable looked like it could comfortably house a race track full of thoroughbreds, and a few people as well. Jake never would have left if they'd had a place like this. Instead, the cruel
Alberta
winter had forced him back to his family, at least for awhile. Until he'd run away and never been seen in their shabby little town again.

Kayla shook her head to ward off the ancient memories. She needed to stop thinking of Jake and focus on what was about to happen. Pulling up behind the stable, she parked and took a deep breath to calm herself again. She yanked the vanity mirror attached to her car's visor open and reached for the small, black lace mask on the seat behind her. Donning it, she admired her reflection for a moment. She had expected to feel foolish wearing something so dramatic, but instead she looked mysterious and sexy, even in the bright afternoon sunshine.

Next, she smoothed on the platinum wig and was surprised at how the chin-length bob accentuated her high cheek bones and lush mouth. She looked like another person. A woman quite comfortable living out her fantasy, rather than the tight-ass she'd become. Exactly the look she was going for. If the video of her adventure today somehow ended up in the wrong hands she was certain no one would recognize her. She barely recognized herself.

Stepping out of the car, she glanced down and yanked at the hem of her denim skirt until it covered a decent amount of thigh. No one was there to see her practically exposing herself, but she felt embarrassed by the immodest display anyway. She was used to being firmly buttoned up from knee to neck. She hadn't worn this particular skirt since high school, and had forgotten how it had a tendency to ride up until her panties were practically visible. She had loved this particular item of clothing back then. Loved how it and her red cowboy boots had gotten her so much attention. Not from Jake, but from every other guy in the county. Her white off-the-shoulder peasant blouse, with strapless bra beneath, completed her country look. She was strangely comfortable in these clothes, considering she had been trapped in restrictive fitted skirts and high heels for the past six years.

Idly, she wondered if her fantasy man would approve of her simple attire. She just couldn't think of him as a 'Scene Facilitator.' That sounded entirely too clinical. And the word 'gigolo' reminded her of that Richard Gere movie from the eighties. Yuck. Until she found out his name, fake or not, she was going to think of him as her cowboy.

Walking into the stable, her eyes quickly adjusted to the dim lights and she was struck by the familiar scent of animals, leather, and hay. Closing her eyes, she breathed in and felt a lump form in her throat as she thought of her former home. She sent money to her parents to keep them afloat, but she hadn't visited in years. She was just too busy. At least that's what she told them. In truth, it was just too painful to return there.

When she thought of home, her memories usually consisted of her dad constantly working but still struggling financially to make ends meet. Or even more vividly, she could remember the endless teenage years of being at war with her mother who tried so valiantly to make her into a clone of herself. But Kayla had wanted so much more and her mother had resented her for not being satisfied with a 'normal' life. Her childhood home had felt like a prison, but despite her bitter memories of never fitting in, she still had some nostalgia for it and her family. And Jake, of course.

Looking around at the ostentatious display of wealth before her, she felt a little out of place. In fact, she felt like a complete interloper. That poor little girl from nowhere certainly wouldn't belong here. Very few people would feel comfortable in a place like this. Kayla's career had brought her into contact with people of extreme wealth and affluence, but this represented a whole other level of privilege. The person who owned it obviously had money to burn if he or she could afford to keep their animals in this degree of luxury.

The stable's ceiling was so high the space resembled an airplane hangar. At the far end, a massive stained-glass window the size of a mini-van depicted a horse running through a green field. The sun passed through that glass to send dapples of multi-colored light streaming down onto the floor.
 

Instead of concrete, the wide corridor was paved in red cobblestone. It separated two rows of stalls, at least ten on each side. Each room-sized stall had a large, wrought-iron sliding gate and a name-plate was attached to many of them. The stall she was currently looking for was to be labeled, "Kingmaker."

She quickly found the stall she was looking for on the left.. She quickly stepped into the empty stall beside it where she had been instructed to wait. There were a few hay bales along one side, and the floor was covered in a thick blanket of clean straw which completely covered the bottom half of her boots. She edged into the corner where the iron gate stopped and the wooden frame began. From this vantage point she had a clear view of the tack area beside the entrance, but should be invisible to anyone outside the stall. Across the corridor, various horse grooming instruments hung on a rack attached to the wall, and the huge rustic table beneath it held a saddle, a few horse blankets, feed cones, and other horse paraphernalia too sophisticated for her to recognize.

Looking down at the thin platinum watch circling her wrist, she wondered how long she was going to have to wait. Around her, in the silence of the stable, she could hear a horse rustling around and somewhere else a tap was dripping, but otherwise it was completely still. She was alone in a barn in the middle of nowhere. Her stomach knotted in dread as she thought about walking back to her car and forgetting completely about her fantasy.

There was no way in hell she could go through with this. She was stupid to be attempting to recreate that afternoon in the barn with Jake. So what if she was obsessed with a man from her past? A boy from her past, actually, who was probably married, bald, and portly by now. Most women were fixated on their first crush to one degree or another. And no matter how hot her cowboy fantasy guy was, there was no way he could compare to her memory of Jake. Time had turned the small, shameful act of watching a lonely boy masturbate into the epitome of eroticism for her, and she didn't think anything could change that. She was doomed.

If she went through with this, she was going to leave this ridiculously over-the-top stable feeling used, empty, and disappointed. And that was the best case scenario. What if this guy was some kind of psycho and hurt her? They were alone. No one knew she was here except Miss Bright, and she didn't completely trust that woman. If this guy wanted to get his rocks off torturing her then she was basically at his mercy.
 

If he was a maniac, and somehow she managed to escape, she couldn't even go to the police without admitting why she was here. And there was no chance she was going to tell the police she had driven out to this isolated barn to meet a male prostitute. She was pretty sure she wouldn't get much sympathy.

Panic started to set in. Just as she was about to dart out of the stall and sprint to her car, she heard hooves on cobblestone, and a soft, low voice murmuring from the opposite end of the stable. She held her breath as they came into view.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

She saw the horse first. It completely blocked her view of the man walking along the far side, leading the animal towards the tack area across the corridor from her. The stallion was a giant, at least 18 hands high and so sleekly muscled she could see every flex and ripple of its flesh as it walked. The horse's shiny black coat shone dully in the stable's dim light and she couldn't help but admire his elegant form. This was obviously a very expensive piece of horseflesh.
 

Leaning down, she could see some long, denim-clad legs on the other side of the horse, but that was it. From the sounds coming from the man's direction it sounded like he was grooming the horse, rubbing it down and ensuring it was clean and comfortable before he put it in its stall for the night.

"Now, that was a good day's work, wasn't it?" A deep voice said from the other side of the animal. "Man, you are one lucky son of a bitch. You get to laze around all day, and when you do have to work, it takes about three minutes out of your whole month, and no one complains. If I took that long, there would be hell to pay. Let me tell you."

He was talking to the horse like they were having an actual conversation? Kayla felt herself grinning like an idiot. This wasn't exactly what she'd envisioned when she imagined spying on a cowboy, but it was entertaining. Her panic left her and she tried to imagine what the man attached to that wonderful, playful voice might look like. Anyone who conversed with a horse couldn't be too dangerous, right?

"You live the life of Riley, don't you?" The man said in a jovial tone, and the horse nickered agreement.

"Yup. All you have to do is hang around, and wait for someone to bring you a sweet little filly to service every few weeks. Me? I get to watch you do your thing and all I've got is my right hand for company. Not fair, I tell you. A man shouldn't be envious of a horse. Am I right?" The horse blew air out of his nose and threw his head back as if offended.

"Now, don't get all uppity like that. I'm glad you had a good time and all, but what about me? My needs, huh? If I wasn't so overworked, I'd bring a woman here and show you how it's done. 'Cause I gotta tell you, you really need to work on your finesse. No offense."

Kayla nearly laughed. Anyone who had ever seen a stallion cover a mare knew exactly what this man was talking about. Foreplay was non-existent and the actual mating between horses could be quite savage.

The appropriateness of her environment finally struck her. She was meeting her own stud at an actual stud-farm, not a dairy farm as she'd believed on her drive down. They bred racing stock here. That explained the luxurious surroundings and even the nameplates on the stalls. Kingmaker? Wasn't that the name of one of the descendants of a Triple Crown winning thoroughbred? Good Lord. Was that him? Being groomed by her fantasy man? She wasn't big on racing, but still couldn't help being impressed. That beast must be worth several million dollars in stud fees and yet he was following her cowboy around like a puppy on a leash.

Finally, the man came into her sight line. He was maneuvering around the horse to groom the opposite side of its tremendous body. Kayla pressed herself tightly into her corner to avoid detection. She could only see his back, but it was a mouth-watering view.

He was wearing a red and white plaid shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and faded jeans that looked like they'd seen a lot of work. His black hat was pushed far back on his head, so she couldn't see the color of his hair. The skin on his heavily muscled arms was deeply tanned. The light caught a few golden hairs on his corded forearms, so she suspected he would be blonde, just like Jake.

Similar coloring was where the similarity to that lanky boy ended. This was definitely a man. He was tall. At least a few inches over six feet,
 
with a lovely wide back, slim hips and powerful-looking thighs. Unlike many large men, he seemed to move with an easy feline grace around the horse. Completely comfortable in his skin, and with his surroundings.

She watched in admiration as he gently brushed the horse while keeping up a constant patter of one-sided conversation that seemed to enthrall the animal. Its velvety ears twitched as he registered the friendly tone of this man's voice, even if it didn't understand the words. The cowboy's hands moved over its hide and Kayla couldn't help but imagine what those callused palms would feel like kneading her own pliant flesh instead.

He wasn't even touching himself, yet Kayla felt her breasts grow heavy as she watched him work. The way his muscles flexed under his smooth skin was hypnotic. She thought how alike he and the horse were - two prime specimens. The very best their respective species had to offer. Physically well worth the stud fees, as far as she was concerned. Though she suspected she had the better deal over the filly who had come to be impregnated by the four-legged stud this afternoon. Unlike that poor beast, she would get some foreplay out of the deal. Hopefully, a lot of foreplay.