16. Bull

16

Bull

She was beautiful —long legs, gorgeous dark eyes. Getting on top of her was going to be amazing.

I spoke right into her ear. “Now I know you don’t know me,” I told her. “But all your friends do. You ask any of them and they’ll tell you. I’m real gentle, ‘long as you behave yourself.”

She gave me an uncertain look. Her eyes grew even bigger when she saw what I had in my hands.

“Don’t you worry about the rope,” I said. “That’s only there if we need it. But we don’t need it, do we? You’re going to be real sweet with me, aren’t you?” I ran my hand over her neck. “Don’t be scared,” I said. “I’ve done this with all your friends.”

And I mounted her.

For a moment, I thought I’d judged it right because she was passive and willing under me. But then I was flying through the air, barely hanging onto my hat as I cleared the fence and landed, sprawling, in the hay.

“Well goddamn,” I said mildly. “I thought we had a connection.”

The horse put her nose through the fence and snorted disparagingly at me. I clambered to my feet to try again.

I know where I am, with animals. Always have. Animals are simple creatures and I don’t say that in the sense of looking down at them. I’m a simple creature. That’s why we get on so well.

Animals are driven by instincts and needs: food, shelter, safety. People, though—they’re just a mess of contradictions and women are the worst of all. Trying to work out what a woman’s going to do next is like trying to predict the path of a paper dart in a tornado.

Case in point: Lily.

One minute, she was into me, the next she was running. One minute she seemed to hate me, the next she was wrapped around me, soft and eager. She was the most frustrating woman I’d ever met…

...and yet I hadn’t stopped thinking about her in three days.

I kicked the fence, being careful not to spook the horse. I still couldn’t believe I’d pushed Kirsten away. Was I nuts? Kirsten, with her tight little body and that way she had of riding me, circling her hips like a goddamn belly dancer and gripping me between her thighs like I was a bronco trying to throw her off. We’d go like that for hours, out in the barn of her dad’s huge ranch, both of us bathed in sweat and her hair gleaming in the evening sun. Just the thought of her cute, perky breasts was enough to get me hard.

Or it had been, until Lily. Now, Kirsten didn’t interest me. I’d always loved that toned, tanned stomach with its little silver and diamond navel stud, displayed so proudly in crop tops and tied shirts. But now all I could think about was uncovering the creamy curves under Lily’s clothes. I wanted to strip her, slowly and carefully, exposing her inch by inch until she was nude. And then I wanted to run my hands all over her, cupping her shoulders, rubbing up and down her spine, stroking the outside and then the inside of her thighs until I knew every damn part of her, until she trembled and moaned under my touch.

I sighed at the horse and pulled the rope taut between my hands. “Now, are you going to cooperate?”

The horse stared back at me. If it could have raised an eyebrow, it would have.

Lily sure as hell wouldn’t cooperate. Part of me wanted to teach her a lesson—tie her and pull her over my knee and spank her ass until it glowed red and then roughly fuck her into submission. But she’d have to be into it, of course.

God, imagine if she was. The world stopped for fully five seconds as my mind turned over the possibilities.

No. She was way too innocent for that kinky shit. And right now, I’d take missionary position with the lights off, I was so hard for that girl.

I climbed up on the fence and put a comforting hand on the horse’s jaw. “How about we start over?” I said. “I’m Bull. I’m going to ride you. We can do it the hard way or the easy way, but I’m going to break you, no matter what.”

Dealing with horses really isn’t that complicated. Gentleness and force—it’s just a matter of using the right combination. Too gentle and you don’t make any progress. Too strong and you’ll scare them.

I stood there staring at the horse for a moment. It’d been three days. Maybe it was time to try again with Lily...but this time, with a gentler approach.

I don’t do gentle. Not with women. Some guys are all poetic: starlight this and tranquil that. I’ve never been much good with words.

But maybe it was time to start.

I pointed at the horse. “Don’t you go nowhere,” I warned. And pulled out my phone.