Fuck.
Diego must have sensed my discomfort because his grin widened as he helped me mount Ranger. The horse was even bigger than Buttercup, and sitting in the front of the saddle made me acutely aware of how high up I was. But that awareness quickly shifted to something else entirely when Diego swung up behind me, his chest pressing against my back, his arms coming around me to take the reins.
“Comfortable?” he asked, his breath warm against my ear.
I was many things in that moment–aroused, nervous, confused–but comfortable wasn’t one of them. “Fine,” I lied, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Good. Just relax and let me do the work.”
Christ. Did he have any idea how that sounded? From the low chuckle that rumbled through his chest, I suspected he did. I forced myself to sit up straighter, putting a few inches between us, but Diego just shifted closer, eliminating the space I’d created.
“You’re gonna fall off if you sit like that,” he murmured. “Just lean back against me.”
“I’m not going to fall off,” I protested, even as Ranger started moving and I instinctively pressed back against Diego’s solid warmth.
“There you go,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “See? Much better.”
It was better, in the worst possible way. I could feel every breath he took, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my spine. His thighs bracketed mine, and when he shifted to guide Ranger around a fallen branch, I bit back a groan at the friction. My jeans were so tight now it was painful and there was a growing bulge against my back that, I suspected, was Diego’s cock. And it was…sizeable.
“You okay up there?” Diego asked, his voice rougher than before.
“Perfect,” I managed, though my voice came out strained. “Just enjoying the scenery.”
“Mm-hmm.” His arms tightened around me slightly as we navigated a small dip in the terrain. “Pretty view from up here.”
I had the distinct impression he wasn’t talking about the landscape.
The ride back seemed to take forever and no time at all. Every step Ranger took sent little vibrations through both our bodies, and I found myself hyperaware of every point where Diego and I were touching. By the time we reached the barn, I was wound tighter than a spring, my jeans stretched to capacity and my dick was damn near about to burst out of them.
“Easy dismount,” Diego said as we stopped. “Just swing your leg over and slide down.”
I did as instructed, grateful to put some distance between us. My legs felt shaky as my feet hit the ground, though whether from the horse riding or Diego’s proximity, I couldn’t say.
“Not bad for your first time,” Diego said, swinging down with practiced ease. “You’re a natural.”
I was about to make some sarcastic comment when I noticed we had an audience. Mabel stood near the barn entrance, her arms crossed and a knowing smile on her face. Beside her was an older man I recognized as Frank from the Christmas Festival.
“Dolly’s up on the porch waitin’ for you, honey,” Mabel said, jabbing her thumb over her left shoulder. “And Diego, I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”
Diego was suddenly very nervous, his proud stature shrinking a bit as he turned to Mabel and ran his hand through his hair. “Uh... Why’s that, Miss Mabel?”
“Like you don’t know you skipped out on helping clean up the landscaping today.” She gave a glance my way, then went back to Diego. “You can’t just skip work for a pretty face.”
Frank gestured for me to follow him. “C’mon son. This ain’t gonna be pretty.”
As soon as we were out of earshot, I heard Mabel’s voice raise and I almost felt bad for Diego.
“Don’t worry,” Frank said, sensing my discomfort. “She’s all barkand no bite where Diego is concerned. She loves that boy like he was her own.”
“Hopefully I didn’t get him intotoomuch trouble,” I replied, though I wasn’t sure why I cared.
“He got into it all by himself. He’ll be fine.”
As we came around the corner of the barn, the farmhouse came into view. And, sure as hell, there was Aunt Dolly sitting on the back porch in a rocking chair looking like she wasn’t the busiest woman in town. Frank gestured toward her, tipped his hat to me in farewell, and headed back to the barn. And I, knowing there was no avoiding it, trudged to the farmhouse and up the steps of the porch.
“Hey Aunt Dolly,” I muttered.
“Hey there yourself,” she grinned. “Where’d you get the hat, sugar?” Aunt Dolly asked, taking a sip from what looked like iced lemonade. “It looks good on you.”
