The Riding Master (15 page)

His hands worked into her neck. “Broken wrist, clavicle, busted two ribs and an ankle when a rebellious stallion fell on me, and I’ve lost count of the number of concussions I’ve had.”

“And still we ride.”

He wrapped his arms about her, lowering her into the chair next to him. “Yep, gluttons for punishment.”

“When I had to give it up in college, I missed it, a lot. The only time in my life when I feel right with the world is on the back of a horse.”

“Me, too,” he agreed.

Resting her head against his chest, Rayne closed her eyes and listened to the steady beat of his heart. Content, and slightly tipsy, she let her mind drift off as visions of riding Bob beneath the open blue sky warmed the furthest reaches of her soul.

Chapter 11

Slits of bright sunlight burrowed into Rayne’s closed eyes, making her slap her hand over her face. Cringing against the horrible dryness in her mouth and the sudden throbbing in her temples, she sat up and opened her eyes. At first, she was disoriented, gazing about the white room with its clean-cut lines, paintings of horses, massive hearth, and leather and wood furniture.

As flashes of the night before started to creep back, she crumpled back against the brown leather sofa she was sitting on. A green blanket had been placed over her, and a fluffy white pillow beneath her. Shaking her head, she remembered closing her eyes as she had nestled against Trent on the deck.

“Damn it.”

“Good morning.” His smoky voice came from the open kitchen on the other side of the wide living room. “You want some coffee?”

Willing her blurry vision to come into focus, Rayne directed her gaze toward the kitchen. Behind the breakfast bar, a clean-shaven Trent was dressed in a casual pair of jeans, blue T-shirt, and pouring out coffee into two white cups.

Pushing the blanket aside, she stood from the sofa. “Tell me I didn’t pass out on you.” She rubbed her hand over her face, imagining how bad she must have looked.

“Pass out, not quite. You fell asleep, so I carried you in here and put you on the sofa.”

She stumbled toward the counter. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

He pushed a cup of coffee toward her. “You want that black?”

“Definitely.” Her hands eagerly embraced the cup.

“You drank three glasses of wine and barely touched the dinner I prepared. Waking you was not an option.”

She took two long sips from the coffee and felt her stuffy head begin to clear. “So much for our date.”

He lifted his white cup. “I don’t know. You can learn a lot by watching someone sleep.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please tell me I didn’t do anything I will live to regret, like snore or talk in my sleep.”

The open kitchen reverberated with his heartwarming chuckle. “No. And even if you did, I wouldn’t embarrass you like that.”

“Why doesn’t that make me feel better?”

“Drink your coffee and relax. I can post my naked pictures of you on Facebook later.”

“Cute.” She put her cup down. “No, I’d better get home and check on Frank. He’s probably destroyed my house by now.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“No, Trent. I can drive home.”

He came around the breakfast bar, carrying his coffee. “Stop fighting me. I’ll take you back to your place, you can shower and change, then we will get some breakfast and head over to the stables.”

“What about my car?”

He took a sip of coffee. “You can get it when we come back here later this evening.”

“Most guys would be anxious to get rid of me.”

He walked up to her and kissed her forehead. “I’m not ‘most guys.’”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

He peered down into his coffee. “After your lessons today, I want you and I to work with Bob. We have a lot to do to get him ready for that show.”

Feeling energized by more than the caffeine, Rayne actually found that she was looking forward to working with Trent. Never before had she met a man who inspired her to reach for her dreams, and was willing to help her attain them. “It’s a date. Mr. Newbury,” she happily chirped.

He put his coffee down on the bar. “I’ll get my shoes, and then we’ll go.”

Rayne’s stomach did a few excited tumbles as Trent walked toward a hallway that led to the master bedroom. Someone up above must have been smiling down on her, because Rayne had a funny feeling her bad luck with men was about to change.

***

Before his 550i BMW had even come to a stop in front of her simple red-bricked bungalow, Rayne was already pulling her keys from her purse, anxious to get inside.

At her front door, picturing a house torn apart by a frustrated Frank, she placed her key in the lock. “Frank’s never been alone all night before, so be prepared.”

“Maybe he’ll surprise you.” Trent gave her shoulder a confident squeeze.

She worked the lock as her feeling of dread rose. “Yeah, I’m sure he’s left surprises all over the living room for me.”

When they entered the door, a resounding “woof” greeted them, followed by the cacophony of four feet zooming across the living room floor. Frank came barreling up to the door before they were both inside. The large furry dog ran up to Rayne and put his front feet on her blue dress.

“Hey, buddy.” She rubbed his face and scratched his back. “I know. I was a bad mommy.”

Immediately, Frank went running from her to the back door by the kitchen that led to the large fenced yard.

“I’d better let him out.” Rayne put her purse down on the table by the door and jogged down the entrance hallway.

Doing a quick scan of the living room as she flew through it, she was surprised to discover a lot less destruction than she had expected. Short of some sofa cushions on the floor, and an imprint on her white leather sofa, nothing else was out of place.  

After Frank had run out the back door, she returned to the living room to find Trent gathering the cushions from the floor.

“I think you lucked out.” He tossed the cushions on the sofa.

“Yeah, well, I haven’t checked my bedroom yet.”

He came up to her side. “Better get it over with.”

They went down the hallway to her open bedroom door, and when Rayne peeked inside, she discovered where Frank had spent the night. Her gray and white comforter was twisted into a ball on her brass bed, and several of Frank’s stuffed toys were spread out next to it.

“I think his secret is out,” Trent joked.

Rayne walked up to the bed and then became distracted by a white wisp of paper on the gray carpet. She spotted what appeared to be toilet paper and her eyes followed the trail of shredded paper to the bathroom.

“Oh, no.” She trotted to the bathroom door and then came to a grinding halt. “Son of a bitch.”

When Trent came up to her side, his sudden fit of laughter only sharpened her anger.

The entire bathroom was covered with toilet paper. It was stuck on the walls, and covered the vanity, the bathtub, and was even up on the shelves located to the side of the shower stall.

“How in the hell did he do that?” she shouted, waving into the bathroom.

Trent was leaning over at this point, grabbing at his side.

“It’s not funny, Trent!”

“Oh, God,” he chuckled, sounding short of breath. “Yes, it is, Rayne.” He waved his hand about her master bathroom. “Where did he get all of that toilet paper?”

“I keep a few extra rolls on the back of the toilet.”

Trent leaned his shoulder on the doorframe, shaking his head and sighing as his laughter ebbed. “God, you should have seen your face.”

“I can’t believe I have to clean up this mess.”

He patted her shoulder. “I’ll help.”

She headed out of the bathroom. “No, you don’t have to do that. I’ll just take a shower in the guest bathroom and deal with it when I get home tonight.”

“God, you’re stubborn.” He followed her into the bedroom. “I said I would help, so let me help.”

At the bed, she scooped up Frank’s stuffed toys. “It’s my problem.”

He reached for her hands. “You’re not alone anymore, Rayne.”

When he turned her to him, a flutter of anticipation rocked her. Instead of pushing Trent away and carrying the dog toys out of the room, she was transfixed by him. She was not sure if it was the aftereffects of the wine, but his eyes were strangely intoxicating, and his hands felt profoundly sensual.

“What will it take to convince you that I’m not going anywhere?” he pleaded, moving closer.

“You can’t keep that kind of promise, Trent. Time is the enemy of all promises.”

“I don’t abandon people I care about.” He lowered his mouth to hers. “And I care about you.”

When Trent kissed her, Rayne let the toys in her arms fall to the floor. She wanted to believe in him, and as his kiss grew more ardent, Rayne’s apprehension slowly receded. Then, that inexplicable longing to have Trent naked next to her took control.

Wrapping her arms about his shoulders, she moved against him, pressing into him, enticing him with her curves. Rayne’s fingers groped his muscular back, teased his chest, and eventually landed on his tight, round ass. When she squeezed his cheeks, Trent promptly deposited her on the bed.

“You’re driving me crazy.”

Pushing the comforter off the bed, Rayne scooted back on the sheets. “What are you going to do about it?” she demanded, emboldened by her desire.

“What do you want me to do?” He kneeled on the bed and crept toward her. “You have to tell me what you want, Rayne.”

She hooked the collar of his blue T-shirt, tugging him closer. “I want you.”

Trent covered her body with his. “You’ve already got me.” He nuzzled her cheek, “Now tell me what you want me to do with you.”

“Do with me? Why do I have to say it?”

He touched his forehead to hers. “I want you to be comfortable with me; comfortable enough to tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

She was afraid to say the words; afraid at how he would react. Rayne had never been any good at telling a man what she wanted. “Make love to me, Trent,” she finally whispered.

His arms lovingly enveloped her. “There, was that so hard?”

She yanked his T-shirt over his head. “No.”   

Once she had tossed his shirt to the floor, her hands avidly caressed his smooth chest and his ripped abdominal muscles. When Rayne pushed her hands beneath the waist band of his blue jeans, eager to feel his round butt, he laughed into her neck and then unzipped his pants.

“I like it when you’re hungry for me.” He plucked his wallet from his back pocket.

“What are you doing?”

“Protection,” he told her, pulling out a yellow condom packet from his wallet. 

“I, ah, forgot…about that.” Rayne’s cheeks flushed, rattled that she had not suggested a condom.

“Just relax. I’ve got it covered.” Trent tossed the packet and wallet to the side of the bed. “Now where were we?” He kissed her again and soon Rayne felt her inhibitions slip away.

He bit into her neck as she helped him wriggle out of his pants and briefs. “I’ve been daydreaming about having you naked next to me since the day we met,” she breathlessly confessed.

“So that is what you were thinking behind those lovely hazel eyes. I’ve always wondered.”

When he was naked on top of her, she slid her hands around to his erection and gently stroked him. “That first day I saw you in the ring, teaching your riding class, I was attracted to you.”

Aroused by her touch, Trent hiked her blue cotton dress up her hips. “Why didn’t you just admit that to me?” He pressed his hand into the valley between her legs.

She kicked her head back. “Because I thought you were an asshole.”

He rubbed his hand up and down the crotch of her underwear, making her moan against him. “Do you still feel that way?”

“Of course not.”

Smiling up at her, he slowly lowered her panties to her ankles. “Are you sure?” He then dramatically dropped her underwear to the floor.

“I’m positive,” she giggled.

“Good, now turn over.”

Trent eased the zipper down her back and peeled the dress from her body. Then, he unhooked her bra and threw it to the floor.

Rayne was about to flip back over when he held her. “No, stay this way.” He pushed her knees beneath her, raising her hips from the bed. “I’ve dreamed of riding you from behind,” he murmured, tracing his fingers along her wet folds.

His fingers dipped ever so gently into her and she backed her hips into his hand, wanting him to go deeper. Slowly, he withdrew and then pushed inside her, driving apart her flesh. With his thumb flicking her nub, and his fingers stimulating her from the inside, Trent began to slowly, rhythmically bring her to climax.

Rayne groaned as her loins exploded with heat. She rocked against his hand as her coming orgasm pooled in her gut. Waves of excitement shut off her mind from everything around her. She swore she heard Frank barking, could make out Trent’s rapid breathing, but all noises sounded so far away. When the need of her release began to consume her, Rayne pushed harder against Trent’s hand.