My knees actually weaken, and our kiss turns into a smile. “I never had a thing for cowboys before.”

  “One cowboy.” He taps my nose, turning back to grab two blankets and hand them to me. “My little sister loves giving gifts.”

  I’m ready to send her a thank you card for him.

  Arching my brow, I study his broad shoulders in that dark green Henley, tight ass in those jeans, with that hat on his head. “But I thought you were the youngest?”

  He lifts two saddles with a grunt, muscles flexing, and I almost need to take a seat.

  “Hana’s actually my brother’s wife’s younger sister, but we’re like siblings.” He passes me, heading into the barn, oblivious to my internal turmoil.

  Hearing her name plunges me back into the old days of hiding, doing my best to blend in, trying to disappear. It’s been four years since I’ve seen Hana, and the shame of who I was in those days twists in my chest.

  “You coming?” he calls, and I push these intrusive feelings away again.

  How long can I keep avoiding the truth? I’m here at ground zero. It’s all right here—my mission, the answers I’ve dedicated myself to finding. All I have to do is search, find that book and take it back to New York.

  Yet, all I want to do is stay here with him, share this moment where we don’t have to hide, where it’s still just a fantasy, and I can have a happily ever after.

  Dirk leads us at a gallop across a wide, open pasture. The cool breeze is at our faces, and I’m on a large, black Friesian named Regency’s Honor. He’s powerful with a long mane and tail and large hooves like a draft horse. Still, he’s graceful and nimble, keeping up with Dancer.

  It’s been years since I’ve ridden a horse, but it comes back quickly. These move like racehorses, but Dirk said Training Day was the only one who was ever on a track. He didn’t mention how the horse was retired, but knowing what I know about this family’s history, I have an idea.

  When we reach the tree line, we slow to a trot then to a walk. Dirk slides off Dancer, walking her to a small creek pushing through the leaves.

  “These streams cut all through here, making their way out to the ocean.” He waits while Dancer drinks, and I slide off Rege’s back. “It can be tricky to ride if you’re unfamiliar with the area, but the horses know.”

  “Would they fall?” I walk to where he’s standing, allowing my horse to drink as well.

  “Horses are pretty sure-footed. You’re more likely to get wet or muddy.”

  “I’m halfway there.” Stepping closer, I press my chest to his, lifting my chin.

  Cupping my face, he slides his thumbs over my cheeks. Smoky hazel burns into my cool blues, but depth is behind his eyes. It tickles my stomach and makes my lips heavy.

  “It’s been a long time since I’ve brought someone here,” he confesses, almost as if he’s treading this ground as cautiously as I am.

  As if he knows how close we are to something completely different.

  Stepping back quickly, my heel sinks, and I realize I’m at the edge of a mud puddle. Without a thought, I reach down and scoop it up, wiping a line of brown across his cheek, breaking the moment.

  He jerks back, surprised. “What the—”

  “Gotcha!” I yell, taking off running up the creek bed, my boots crunching on the watery rocks.

  “You’d better run!” The sound of his footsteps chasing me, splashing faster as he gets closer, makes my stomach flip.

  I scream and press harder, doing my best to stay ahead, but I’m not familiar with this area, and the creek takes a sharp right before dropping into what I see is a small pool below.

  “Oh, no!” I skid to a stop, and he has me around the waist, lifting me off the ground.

  “I’ve got you.” Lifting his hand, he’s got a scoop of mud just waiting for me.

  “No!” I laugh, turning my face side to side, but he doesn’t stop coming.

  I could get out of his hold, but I don’t want to. Instead, mud is smeared all over my cheeks and neck, and I’m laughing as he returns me to my feet.

  Turning to face him, we both strike wrestler poses, knees bent and circling. Reaching down, I scoop another handful of mud, and his eyes glitter.

  “What are you planning to do with that?” His tone is warning, and nervous laughter bubbles in my throat.

  “I think you know.” I take a quick step forward, and he dodges, lifting his arm and twisting out of the way.

  “You’re not going to get that on me.”

  “I might. I have skills.”

  “I’m familiar with your skills.” A sexy smile curls his lips, and a dimple appears.

  Laughter, teasing, these are things we haven't been able to do at Thornton, and I love it.

  “Then you know I get what I want.” Diving at him, I grip his shoulders, pushing my hand towards his face.

  He blocks it easily, holding my arm to the side. At this point, I don’t really care about smearing him with mud. I only want to feel his strength again. I want his arms around me, him holding me down. It’s how we always are, wild and ravenous.

  Then he turns my hand to my face.

  “No!” I squeal, pressing my nose against his chest as I struggle against the incoming blob.

  “Now who has skills?”

  I do the only thing I can, hooking my leg around his and taking him to the ground. He lands on his back with an oof! and his grip on my arm loosens. In that instant, I’ve got him, wiping the mud from his forehead down his nose.

  “Motherfucker,” he growls, rolling me so my back is in the muck.

  Ripping up my sweater, he wipes a line of mud over my bare stomach, and the cold makes me yell. Just as fast, he straddles my waist, gripping my wrists so both my hands are locked in his above my head.

  We’re breathing fast, smiling wickedly as we gaze at each other, sweaty and gross. One blink, and his mouth is on mine. He releases my wrists, and I rip at his shirt, pulling it higher so our bodies are skin against muddy skin.

  “Fuck,” he groans, and I laugh against his mouth. “This is disgusting.”

  “There’s a creek down there.”

  He’s on his feet at once, catching both my hands and pulling me to my feet. He doesn’t stop there, tossing me over his shoulder and slapping my ass.

  “Ow!” I laugh, but I don’t struggle as he takes off down the side of the hill to where the small pool waits below.

  Dropping me to my feet, he catches me by the waist. “Come here.” It’s a low order, and he lifts my sweater over my head, tossing it to the side along with his discarded Henley.

  Our boots are the next to go. He’s actually in cowboy boots, but mine are simple Chelsea ankle boots. One zip, and they’re off.

  A hand-sized stripe of mud is across both our stomachs, and I laugh. “Look what you did!”

  “What I did,” he gripes, jerking me closer by the belt loops before unbuttoning my jeans and lowering the zipper as I unfasten my bra and toss it to the side.

  Reaching for his waist, I pull the top button open, dropping my hand to stroke the hard length pressing against the fabric. He groans, pulling me closer and catching my face, sealing his lips over mine.

  Mouths open, tongues circle, and he steps back to shove his pants off. I do the same. Straightening, we both hesitate. All our other encounters have been stolen moments, hidden in the dark, our clothes yanked down or up just enough to allow our bodies to unite.

  It’s the first time we’ve been completely naked, standing in front of each other. Lifting his hand, he slides his palm over my hip, higher to my waist. His touch is so light, so reverent, it floods heat to my core, forcing a soft whimper from my throat.

  Blinking slowly, I place my hands on the lines in his hips wrapping over his waist in that mouth watering V. His hand moves higher, his thumb opening over my stomach before rising to cup my breast and lift, squeeze.

  Another soft noise, and my tongue slides over my lips as I trace the muscular lines in his ribs with trembling fingers. My other hand teases his cock, perfectly straining, hard and smooth and pointing right at me. I’m mesmerized by the sight of him.

  He speaks in a hushed whisper. “You’re so beautiful.”

  It’s more than I can take. I step closer, pressing my open mouth to his firm chest, sliding my tongue over his salty skin, kissing and teasing his hard nipple with my teeth. With a groan, he threads his fingers in my hair, pulling my head back so I’m forced to meet his heated gaze.

  “I want to be inside you.”

  Nodding, I place my hands on his shoulders, and he lifts me in his arms. My legs go around his waist, and he walks slowly into the small pool. I’m bracing for it to be frigid, but it’s surprisingly tepid. The depth is only to his waist, and he braces the rocky side where the small creek falls over the hill creating a gentle waterfall.

  “I don’t have a condom, but I’m clean.” His voice is rough. “Hell, you’re the first person I’ve been with in…”

  Sliding my thumb across his full bottom lip, I want him so much. “You’re the first for me in so long. I’m clean, I have an implant.”

  Our mouths crash, his hand bracing the back of my head, and I reach down between us to grasp his erection, sliding it smoothly into my slippery core. Again, the sensation of fullness is overwhelming.

  His forehead drops to mine, and he groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “Feels so good.”

  We’re facing each other for the first time. He’s between my legs, his light chest hairs tickling my nipples, our skin is heated and slick from the water and our desire.

  Reaching around I pull him closer as I work my thighs, riding his cock, pressing my pelvis to him so the friction radiates to my core.

  “Oh, fuck,” I gasp, as the sparks of orgasm awaken.

  His hands are on my ass, grasping and squeezing, and he thrusts harder, driving deeper. Again our lips seal, tongues caressing. He moves one hand from my ass to between us, stroking and pinching my clit, and the sparkles turn to flames.

  We’re both moving faster, frantically chasing that fiery release. His mouth moves to the top of my ear, and I hear his hot breath hitch and shudder as he gets closer. It’s fucking hot as hell, and one last, firm circle of his thumb on my clit sends me soaring.

  “Dirk,” I cry as the waves roll through my body, squeezing and pulsing against his cock, coaxing him to join me.

  It doesn’t take much. Both his hands are on my ass, and he squeezes as he stills. With a pulse and jerk, he breaks deep within me. His stomach muscles tense, and his thighs tremble beneath mine. My arms wrap tighter around his body, and I hold him, riding out this orgasm chest to chest and face to face like it’s our first time.

  17

  Dirk

  Her body is warm against mine, sitting on the saddle in front of me as we ride back on Regency’s Honor. I hold Dancer’s reins, leading her beside us as we lope back to the barn.

  The image of Reanna’s body, naked in front of me, burns in my mind—her perfect, teardrop breasts, small but large enough to squeeze, round hips and flat stomach, ass full enough to grip as I moved her up and down on my dick.

  She’s muscular. I’ve never asked if she’s an athlete, but she’s still soft, with those blue eyes and long dark hair… I haven’t been able to stop looking at her or touching her.

  Holding her against my chest, taking her slow, without the fever and desperation, without the fear of being caught, changed something in me. At Thornton I fought these feelings. I felt like I was failing to be strong against an amorous young student.

  Then, when I couldn’t stop wanting her, I supposed it could be the danger, the element of the forbidden, making it feel like something more. Now I’m not sure at all.

  Our bodies rock together with the rhythm of the horse. Her back is to my chest, and my hand is on her stomach. Our hips move like they do when we’re coming undone, and I think I will always get semi-hard thinking of her ass sliding against my crotch.

  Back at the barn, I slide off the Friesian to guide Dancer into her stall. We’ll have to brush them down and feed them ourselves, since the groom has the weekend off. It’s the first time in a long time the estate is almost entirely empty.

  Only Norris, Hugh’s old butler, remains in the house, keeping things going as he has since I was a little boy.

  Reanna slides off her horse, guiding it into the stall and following my lead, unbuckling the belt around the horse's belly, sliding the heavy, western saddle off his back.

  “You got that?” I call from across the alley, but when I look up, I see she’s walking to the tack room, blanket and saddle in hand.

  I’m right behind her, placing Dancer’s saddle on the vacant sawhorse and picking up an oval, boar’s hair brush the size of my palm. She does the same, pausing to rise on her toes and kiss my lips before taking the cowboy hat off my head and putting it on hers.

  A smile curls my lips as I watch her sassy ass sway as she walks back to the waiting horse. It only takes a few moments to brush them down, stow the bridles, and give them feed.

  “I’ve just got to feed the other three horses and we can head to my place.”

  She glances around the barn before giving me a worried smile. “Is there somewhere I can use the restroom?”

  “Oh, sure. Sorry.” I feel pretty damn inconsiderate. “If you go right down that breezeway, it’ll lead to the kitchen door. It’s always unlocked, and there’s a restroom just inside, down a short hall past the pantry.”

  “I won’t be long!” One last peck on my lips and she turns, taking off at a trot towards the house.

  I step inside Dancer’s stall again, patting the front of her leg so I can inspect her hoof for rocks. I take a second to check all four and then Rege’s before I decide they’re all set for the night.

  The other horses are waiting with their heads over the stalls for dinner. I take my time, lingering as I fill their troughs. Training Day watches with big brown eyes as I scrub my hand down his neck. No one rides him anymore, but I’ll take him through the paces tomorrow.

  Several minutes have passed, and I realize Reanna hasn’t returned. I wonder if she got lost in Hugh's big house or if she thought I might meet her there. I could text her, but I figure I’ll go and find her instead, say hello to Norris if he’s around.

  The sun is on the horizon, a full, red-orange sphere outlining the landscape in glowing yellow. I imagine Hana could turn this into a photographic work of art if she were here, if she hasn't already, as I slowly stroll up the breezeway towards the house.

  The back door is unlocked as always, and I step into the large, empty kitchen. Only the small lights under the cabinets are illuminated, and I scan the area looking for any signs of Reanna.

  Finding none, I make my way down to the small bathroom on the short hall separating the kitchen from the open living room. The half-bath is dark, and I continue, wondering where she might be.

  I realize she could be waiting for me at the Jeep, and I place my hand on my phone to text her when my eyes catch a shaft of light coming from an open door on the next hall between the living room and Hugh’s large conservatory-greenhouse.

  I’m sure it’s Norris cleaning or straightening Hugh’s office, and I figure I’ll say hello and be sure he knows I’m checking on the horses this weekend. I pull up short when I round the corner and see it’s Reanna, sliding her fingers over the spines behind Hugh’s desk, pulling a thin book out and reading the cover.

  “What are you doing here?” At the sound of my voice she lets out a little yip and throws the book in the air.

  It makes me laugh, and I walk over to pick it up off the floor. “If that’s not a guilty response…”

  “You nearly gave me a heart attack.” She places a hand on her chest.

  Straightening, I notice papers spread across the oversized, carved-oak desk. “That’s what you get for snooping.”

  “I wasn’t snooping.” Her laugh is wobbly, I assume from getting caught. “I was just looking at this beautiful old house, and I wandered down the hall and saw all these gorgeous books and I guess…”

  “It’s okay.” I walk up to put my hand on her waist, sliding the slim volume of the poems of T.S. Eliot back on the shelf. “I didn’t know where you were.”

  She pushes her hair behind her ears with trembling hands, and her eyes fall to the desk. “I’m not sure where I am.”

  “Well, be glad Norris didn’t catch you. He’s the one who protects all of Hugh’s things, and he is not very forgiving about books going missing. At least he wasn’t when I was a kid.”

  “I noticed he has this.” She walks over to the opposite side of the room and slides a hardcover edition of The Sorcerer’s Stone off the shelf.

  Joining her, I take it from her hands, inspecting the pristine sheets of the unread book. “He has all of them, I think.”

  She reaches up to cup my cheek before kissing me again. She’s been doing that a lot since our ride, and I like it. I like it so much, I shove the book back in its place and catch her around the waist.

  “I have my own copies now, too.”

  Her eyes light with her smile. “I know, and they’re well-read, unlike these museum pieces.”

  “How would you know?” I give her a squint.

  “I mean… I imagine them that way.” She drops her chin, circling her finger around the button on my shirt.

  “Come on, crazy.” I take her hand, leading her out of the office and back to the kitchen, ready to show her my place.

  “Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it.” We’re propped up on pillows in the center of my bed, boxes of grilled bologna sandwiches and mac and cheese from Slim Harold’s in Hamiltown on our bedside tables.

  I’m reading Dumbledore’s famous lines from The Goblet of Fire aloud while Reanna leans against my chest listening intently.

  “That’s so true.” Her voice is soft, musing, and I lower the book.

  “What are you thinking about?” My fingers are threaded in her long, silky hair, and I’ve been running them down her back as I read the story.