When she moved to get up, I grabbed her arm. 'Ride me.'
She looked from my face to my fingers holding her tight. 'I only do it once, honey.'
I didn't let go. 'Before, you said you were just playing, not trying to jerk me around… Prove it.'
She didn't say anything. I let go of her wrist, and she stood up.
'Guess you're too tired,' I said, and she turned to look at me. 'Can't last more than one time.'
For a minute she stood there motionless, staring at me, her eyes in shadow. Then she squatted over me, reached down, and grabbed my cock. My breath caught in my throat, and I tensed, wondering what in the hell she was going to do next.
'By the time I'm done with you, you won't be able to get off the damn floor.' She began to stroke me, slowly at first, with an expert touch. Then she guided me into her.
Damn, the woman could ride more than horses. When she finished, I felt like I had been worked over. Felt like I couldn't lift my head off the floor.
She crouched next to me and touched the bridge of my nose. 'How'd you get this bruise?'
'A fight at the party,' I mumbled and didn't bother opening my eyes.
'Who with?'
'One of the guys from the hay delivery service we use. His driver.
… He was drunk.'
'Oh.' She leaned over and kissed me on the lips. Her silky hair fell across my face. 'Don't fall asleep on the floor.'
I almost smiled. Opened my eyes instead. She stood and dressed, all the while looking down at me without expression. She had won, or maybe it was a tie. I couldn't tell.
Wordlessly, she walked over to the door and put her hand on the knob. She stood there for a second, then slowly turned to face me. 'Stay away from him, Stevie. He's a dangerous man.'
I propped myself up on my elbows. 'What do you mean?'
'Honey, I know lots of things about lots of people, especially men. Just stay away from him.' She turned and left, closing the door firmly behind her.
I stood and clumsily pulled up my jeans, tucked in my shirt, and looked around the room. I had been completely oblivious to my surroundings. Now, as I stood in the middle of the room, I could still smell her, smell myself. The musky odor of sex mixing with the sweet smell of molasses and grain additives. I could hear the horse moving around in the stall next door and, in the distance, a car engine turning over. I looked down and saw where our bodies had smudged the dusty floor. My clothes were covered with dirt.
I brushed off my jeans, switched off the light, and closed the door behind me. I flipped through my keys until I found the right one-a new key with bright yellow fluorescent tape. Dave's doing, no doubt. I slid the key into the lock and the tumbler snicked smoothly into the jamb.
Someone walked into the barn.
I looked over my shoulder. It was only Karen. I glanced at my watch. Almost ten o'clock. Lessons were over, the barns were closing down for the night, and I hadn't had a clue it was so late.
She looked at me as if she'd never seen me before, and I wondered if I'd forgotten to pull up my zipper or something. I glanced down. Nope. I hoped I didn't look as if I'd just been rolling around on the floor and suddenly felt transparent.
'What are you still doing here?' Karen asked. 'I thought you'd left a long time ago.'
'No, eh… just doing a few things.'
She crossed her hands over he chest, and her eyebrows bunched together the way they do when she's pissed off about something, which is just about all the time. I felt my face getting hot.
'Would you check everything then… since you're still here?'
'Sure.' It came out a whisper.
She gave me a sideways glance, then departed.
By late-afternoon Wednesday, Dave had put his wizardry into effect. A formidable gate stretched across the lane to the main road, and I had spent the better part of two days in the implement building, cleaning paint off every conceivable surface (no one's idea of fun) while my thoughts swayed between Elsa and Rachel, between ecstasy and guilt. As Marty liked to put it, I'd given control to someone else and gone along for the ride. I didn't particularly like it, but hell, I hadn't minded the ride, had I? No. I'd jumped right on.
Earlier that afternoon, I had avoided Rachel by graining the horses when she was riding, because I had this uncomfortable feeling that she would know what I had done just by looking at me. Now, I was finally finished with the cleanup. I gathered together the filthy rags, brushes, and cans and tossed everything into the trash. Dave wouldn't approve, but I couldn't care less. I gave the work area one last cursory glance and walked outside into sunlight and air not laden with fumes. I headed to the men's room, bent over the sink, and turned on the tap.
I was waiting for the water to get hot when someone opened the door.
'Finished with the paint removal yet?'
I glanced over my shoulder as Marty strolled into the room. 'Yeah,' I said. 'Finally.'
'What did the inspector say?'
'That horse barns were almost always a total loss if a fire breaks out.' I soaped my hands and looked at Marty's reflection in the mirror. 'Shit. There's so many horses in one barn, just the thought of it makes me sick.'
'Jesus.' Marty leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. 'Did he have any suggestions?'
'Not really. We've done everything we can short of installing an overhead sprinkler system, and-'
'That'll be the day.'
'Got that right. No way in hell will Ambrose shell out that kind of money. He said no to hiring a night watchman, too.'
'I heard.'
'Mrs. Hill did talk the local cops into driving by after-hours to give the farm a once over. Who knows how long that'll last.'
'Or how open their eyes'll be.'
I rinsed my hands and splashed water on my face. 'Well, I'm finally caught up.' I yanked some paper towels out of the dispenser and started to dry my face.
'Er… maybe not.'
I paused. 'What do you mean, maybe not?'
'Whitcombe's added two more horses to your list.'
'Shit.'
'And he's in a foul mood. Motherfucker needs to get laid.'
I wadded the towels into a ball and hooked them into the trash bin that stood in the corner of the room. 'Damn. Would you do one for me?'
'Sure.'
'Thanks.'
'Speakin' of needin' a good lay,' Marty said. 'You've been awfully tense lately.'
I made a noncommittal noise in my throat and turned for the door, not trusting my expression. 'See ya,' I said over my shoulder.
I was heading for the lounge to get a Coke when Whitcombe called after me. He had already jumped off the horse he'd been riding and was leading it across the ring. I glanced at my watch. He'd quit early.
I wound my way through a bunch of kids who were waiting for the three-thirty lesson to begin and stood by the arena gate. The horse's sides were heaving, and despite the chilly air, he was damp with sweat.
'Got lead up your ass, Cline?' Whitcombe said. 'I don't have all day.'
I glanced over my shoulder. Everyone was watching and no wonder. The man was hard to ignore. But, it was his grave he was digging if Mrs. Hill caught him talking like that. I reached out to take the horse's reins. Whitcombe didn't let them go, so I dropped my hand to my side.
'You don't know jack shit about horses do you?' he said. 'I asked for a figure-eight noseband, and I get a flash
