I lean down, resting my elbow on the saddle horn. “Please tell me that doesn’t work for you?” When he doesn’t respond, I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling in disbelief. “Kasey, if I was any other girl, you’d have me in the tack room bent over a saddle right now.” His fingers pause mid scratch and Queen nuzzles in more.Greedy whore. With his mouth parted, I continue my scolding. “But I’m not. Leave your cheesy pick up lines for thebunnies.” This gets a laugh from him and he slides off the top rung of the fence, hand running along Queen’s neck until his fingers still just inches from my knee.
“Who would guess rodeo queen Hannah Harlow has such a filthy mouth on her?” His eyes sparkle with mischief.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a cloud of black settle into place behind a section of the fence. When I look in that direction, goosebumps prickle my skin and I suppress a shudder at the sight of Dean Wilder. His chin rests on the section of fence where paint has peeled off, those storm cloud eyes boring into mine. I’ve forgotten Kasey was even here until he nudges my knee.
“Seems like someone doesn’t like sharing your attention.” I follow his gaze back to the man across from me. His lips set in a firm line, hands gripping the rung. From here, I can see the spur tattoo flexing over the muscles in his hands. My mouth waters at the thought of what those hands can do.
“I don’t even know him.” Even to me, I can hear the need in my voice. Kasey shifts back to the front of Queen and runs his hands over her nose again.
“Be careful with that one,” he cautions, his voice low.
“What do you mean?” Breaking my trance on the man in black, I look back towards Kasey.
“I’ve tried to get to know him, but he’s an enigma. We’ve ridden in the same rodeos for years, but no one can get close to him. He travels solo.” Without looking in his direction, I can feel his eyes on me, heat pricking my skin.
“Bronc riding is a solo sport, why does it matter?”
Kasey tilts his head at me, confusion filling his gaze. “You should know better than anyone that despite our events being a one person job, rodeo as a whole is a team sport. We cheer each other on even when our title hinges on the chance that they fail.”God, this man is too nice.
“I don’t have time for friends, Kasey.”
His shoulders sag with defeat. “Another one down, I guess.” With that, he slaps his hat against his thighs and places it on his head. As he pats Queen one more time, he looks up at me.
“Well, Hannah, whether you want it or not, consider me a friend. Have a good ride tonight,” he says with a dip of his chin before walking away. I notice a few of the riders do a double take, watching Kasey exit the arena. He catches Mallory’s eyes and gives her that megawatt smile he tried on me earlier. To his credit, she falls for it, blushing and giving him a shy wave as he passes by. But my attention goes back to the boot prints left behind by the cowboy that makes me feel things I’ve promised to never feel again.
Placing second tonight stings,but at least I didn’t have to stand face to face with Dean Wilder again. It gave me the chance to put some space between us. After wiping down Queen and getting her loaded in the trailer, I lock her in and make my way to the sleeping quarter up front. After selling five acres with our gorgeous little farmhouse, including the life insurance payouts, I walked away with a small fortune. I only spent it on a new truck and this obscenely massive trailer with sleeping quarters including an attached room and bathroom. Knowing I wouldn’t settle down for a while, I allowed myself the small luxury of dishing out good money for a comfortable place to sleep while on the road. It also gives me the chance to spend the days between races to camp out and explore local trails between rodeos. During the winter, I place Queen in a pasture I rent out and take off somewhere, usually somewhere warmer. Idon’t do well cooped up in the cold. Mama loved winters, loved how the snow looked, freshly fallen and untouched. These days, too much down time offers too much time to dwell on the past. That and feeling lonely, winters make me wish I didn’t close myself off to everyone around me. Traveling and staying on the go keeps my mind from drifting.
Closing the door behind me, I bend down at the foot of my bed to grab my backpack. When my hand meets the floor, I throw back the clothes littering the floor and search under the bed.Shit!I’d taken it to the arena tonight to review footage on my laptop, but left it after my race. Tossing my hat aside, I close the door on my way out and comb my fingers through my hair, happy to release the tension from the tight braid I’ve had it in all day. My brown, wavy hair blows around me, just how I like it. Unruly and free. The grounds are quiet at this time; most of the other riders have packed up and left town for the next rodeo. Some crammed into trucks and headed into town for a drink and dancing. A few trailers have lights glowing from their covered windows, but the only sounds around me is the steady rhythm of crickets and my boots scuffing over the graveled lot. As I round the corner to the entrance gate, muffled cries sound from an alcove up ahead. I slow my steps and strain to listen for the sound again. Now louder this time and not as hushed, my heartbeat speeds up and my gut twists.Who the fuck is out here this late?I wish I would have grabbed my pepper spray from my truck. As I get closer, the moans become louder and more aggressive. A sharp slapping sound causes me to start running in the direction of a dark hallway just a few yards away. I have no idea what I’ll do, but if it’s someone who needs my help, I can’t just run past and pretend I’m not hearing what is happening.
As I round the corner, my boots come to an abrupt halt, my hair flying around my face. Through the strands I’m desperately trying to untangle from my eyes, I’m stuck in place. Standingthere with his black jeans pulled down just below his perfect ass is DeanfuckingWilder. The dimples in his ass flex each time his hips snap with abandon against the woman he’s fucking. His skin slaps against the bare ass of a blonde, busty woman with bright red lips. Her tank top is pulled down over her tits, which he holds in his palms. As his fingers rub her nipples between his finger and thumb, I feel mine tighten beneath my shirt. Her cries turn into moans, her hands smacking against the concrete wall. My mind screams at me to turn away. But deep in the dark parts of my mind, I can’t look away from the pair, grinding before me. His teeth dig into her shoulder and I squeeze my thighs together, the pressure building in my core as I watch the hand with the spur tattooed into his flesh reach up and cup her throat. I bring my own hand to my neck, rubbing at it, envisioning how it would feel to have his strong grip around it. The movement catches Dean’s attention, his eyes suddenly flicking to mine. I expect him to stop, to cover himself, to yell at me to fuck off. Instead, he angles the woman's head away from me, and turns that stormy gaze directly atme. His gray eyes steal the air from my lungs. It’s obscene, crude, totally inappropriate, and yetwildly arousing.
I stare at him, not once breaking his brisk pounding. Her moaning is faster now, his breath heavy. “That’s it, darlin’,” he rasps into the woman’s ear, not taking his eyes off me, “let loose for me.” Shivers skate over my body and I tremble underneath his gaze. He gives me a wild smile as beads of sweat collect on his forehead, his mess of brown hair ghosting over his eyes. It’s not until the blonde let’s out a porn star worthy gasp that reality swoops in around me. My body tingles as if I’m the one who just came, the night air so much hotter than it was a few minutes ago. Debating if I should say anything or turn and run, I realize he’s still thrusting, keeping her head turned away from me, as if hiding the fact that I’m there. His eyes screw shut and his pumps into her one last time before collapsing against her. The momenthe closes his eyes, I turn and run down the walkway towards the tack room. When I reach the room off to the corner of the indoor arena, I slam the door behind me and sag against the wood, sliding to the ground.
“What the fuck!” My palm smacks against my forehead. Visions of him assault me each time I blink, the feeling of his eyes on me while he came stuck in my mind. I’m not sure how long I sit on the floor, but through the haze my eyes land on my bag, and I jolt up. Suddenly remembering why I’m here in the first place. Pushing to my knees, I dive for the canvas backpack and hold it to my chest, trying to calm my breathing. How much longer do I wait to leave this closet? What if he hasn’t left the parking lot yet? There is no pretending I didn’t just stand there and willingly watch as he fucked a buckle bunny in an alcove. And there is no way I can ever pretend that I didn’t enjoy it. I know he didn’t miss the way my nipples poked through my thin, cotton shirt, or the way my hand held my throat the same way he held hers. “This is crazy,” I mutter to myself. Shaking my head, I turn to leave, but the sound of the door clicking open has my blood running cold.
dean
I should feelbad about the bite mark on her shoulder and the imprint of the brick wall on her face, right? But the only thing on my mind is the way Hannah looked when she watched me fuck this blonde in a dark hallway. Did that turn her on? Does she dream about me the way that she has haunted my dreams every night since I held her in my arms?
“Call me when you’re back in town.” I glance down, wincing at the way her lipstick has smudged in a curve up her cheek. Her long, red nails scrape against my shirt as she slides a paper in my shirt pocket. Her number, no doubt. I give her a tight nod while fastening my belt around my hips. She leans up to kiss me, but I turn to the side, her lips landing on my cheek. I don’t miss the disappointed look in her eyes when she tries to catch mine. Taking the hint, she pulls her shirt back up and fixes her denim skirt before stomping off and disappearing into the main walkway. Resting my head against the wall, I give her some time to walk away before I follow her out. But instead of turning to the exit, I take off in the direction I saw Hannah go. I closed my eyes for half a second, and when I opened them again, she was gone.Something about her running off triggered a primal need for me to catch her. “You can run, darlin’, but when I catch you, you better hold on tight.” I mutter as I turn into the practice arena. The main lights are off, but a tiny sliver of light spills out from under the tack room door. A shadow moves across it, setting my blood on fire.
The look on her face is priceless as I push open the door and find her standing in the middle of the room. A canvas backpack is clutched against her chest, doing nothing to hide the heavy breaths she takes. The room isn’t that big. In a couple long strides, I’d be chest to chest with her. A few saddle racks take up most of the floor space. Hooks hang on the walls, weighed down by leads and halters. Barrels of oats and feed line the wall to the left. She looks at me with a fire in her eyes that feeds the feral part of me, the part of me that grows hard just looking at her. I’ve been chasing this woman for years, and now that she’s in front of me, I can’t decide what to do to her first.
“What do you want, Wilder?” Her voice trembles for a split second before she clears her throat and looks at me with a confidence that makes me proud. I can see in the way she tries to look everywhere but at me that she is wrestling with her morals. As if part of her knows what she witnessed, what shedid,was wrong, but another part of her enjoyed it. Enjoyed watching me handle someone like that, speak filthy things in their ear while looking intohereyes. With the heel of my boot, I kick the door closed and turn the lock on the handle. Her eyes flare, but she puts up her wall and holds her ground, popping out a hip. Fuck, if that doesn’t make my cock try and reach for her. Her fire matches mine.
“No, darlin’,” I drawl as I lean back against the wall and cross my arms over my chest. Her eyes shift down and I feel them travel over the expanse of my chest. “I think the better question is, what doyouwant?” She rolls her eyes, dropping her backpackto the floor with a heavy thud. “You seemed to like what you saw back there.”
Then her eyes fly to mine, going distant like she’s reliving some memory. “You,” she whispers. Tipping my head to the side, I don’t answer, letting my back rest against the door, watching the wheels turn. “It was you who carried me out two years ago after my fall, wasn’t it?” Those big brown eyes bear into mine.
“You don’t remember?” It all makes sense now, why she didn’t reach out, why she looked shocked and confused when we stood across from each other the other weekend.
“I’ve…” She shakes her head, her thoughts trailing off as she studies the floor under her boots. “No. I don’t.” Her eyes meet mine, full of sadness. It breaks my fucking heart, and I have to dig my heels into the concrete floor before I close the space between us and haul her into my arms.
“You were in pretty bad shape, I’m not surprised you don’t remember.” I didn’t come in here expecting to have a fucking heart to heart, but everything about this girl has me breaking all my rules. “But yes, darlin’. It was me.” We study each other for a while, each unsure how to process the realization she’s come to. I can imagine her shock, that after all these years, she’s finally met who picked her up out of the dirt. And now she’s locked in a room with him after just catching him balls deep in another woman.
Nodding her head a few times, she blinks away the memory, “Well…” Wiping a rogue tear from her cheek, she stands a little taller and squares those shoulders. “Thank you for that.” Her boots rush across the floor, but skid to a stop when I take a step in her direction. Hannah tries to slide past me, but I quickly step to the side, blocking her exit.
Something about the way she closed up so quickly, the way she’s trying to run out of this room like she can’t stand to bearound me, has me curious. “I think you remember more than you’re letting on.”
