sullen thoughts today.
After dismounting, she tethered Adobe to a low branch and retrieved the bundle tied to the saddle strings¾a red and white checkered napkin with an apple and two blueberry biscuits. She opened the bundle, took a bite from the apple and held the remainder out for the horse.
The clear blue water beckoned her. While scanning the surrounding woods, she heard the scurry of small critters searching for food and overhead, a hawk cried out. She removed her boots, rolled the riding pants down her hips and removed her shirt. Before entering the turquoise pond, she dipped one toe in and released a gratifying sigh. Warm as bath water. Feeling reckless, and wearing only her camisole and pantalets, she dove in.
She flipped onto her back when she came up for air, allowing her long hair to float behind her. Studying the clouds above, daydreams found her. She relived the race with a twinge of guilt. Her desperate need to win seemed trivial now, not to mention childish. She vowed the next time she saw Creed she’d confess her sin, admit she’d cheated. Her spirits and body refreshed, she left the water, plucked her clothing from the ground and walked toward Adobe. The stallion’s ears hugged his massive head; he blew air through his snout and pawed the ground. The hair on her forearms stood at attention. She couldn’t shake the feeling someone watched her.
Wheat-colored swamp reeds rustled before a man walked from a thicket of wild sumac. She stared into Creed’s eyes, aware of her thundering heart and the sculpted planes of his gorgeous face. Covering herself with a gasp, anger found her. "Were you spying on me again? Don’t you have a more pleasant way of spending a Sunday afternoon?"
His cool gaze swept over her. "I wasn’t spying. This is the shortest route to Full Circle from my place, isn’t it?"
Confusion stormed her brain. "I suppose, but I would have foregone my swim if you’d spoken up."
"Why should I? I’ve been coming here for years. Besides, only a fool would speak up and ruin the view."
Heat rushed to her cheeks. "Maybe you have been coming here for years, but the pond is on Full Circle property."
His jaw twitched when he advanced one slow foot at a time. Her blood boiled, whether from anger or passion she didn’t know. ‘The wily fox after the hapless hen,’ her mind screamed. ‘Run!’
He caught her wrist before she had time to mount and spun her around. His warm breath fanned her cheek and the intoxicating scents of leather, horse and man washed over her. Without thought, she brought her free hand up and connected with his cheek. And then stared at the fresh, red handprint. What had she done? She fought the urge to touch him, wipe away her impulsive anger.
Pulling her against him, he grabbed a length of her hair and arched her neck back. His mouth came down on hers, demanding and hard. A whimper came from her throat and sane reason deserted her.
She couldn't remember how they ended up on the grass, her beneath him, his weight pressing down on her. When he found her lips again, liquid fire pushed through her veins and spread outward to her limbs. He tasted of tobacco and pine needles.
She strained beneath him when his hands rolled the pantalets from her hips. He tore camisole while exposing her breasts. A part of her hoped he’d stop, another prayed he wouldn't.
"Too late now little hell-cat."
His words sent shivers down her spine. His hand came up and cupped her breast, kneading, caressing, pitching her into a frenzied state. H er nipples hardened to tight, small nubs when he took one between his thumb and finger. A small moan escaped her lips. She yearned for something more, but what?
Through a numb haze she watched him remove his clothing, and gasped when the warm skin of his torso connected with hers. Their lips met again, this time gentle, soft. He teased her mouth open with his tongue and wound his fingers through the hair at the sides of her head. She felt trapped,
After dismounting, she tethered Adobe to a low branch and retrieved the bundle tied to the saddle strings¾a red and white checkered napkin with an apple and two blueberry biscuits. She opened the bundle, took a bite from the apple and held the remainder out for the horse.
The clear blue water beckoned her. While scanning the surrounding woods, she heard the scurry of small critters searching for food and overhead, a hawk cried out. She removed her boots, rolled the riding pants down her hips and removed her shirt. Before entering the turquoise pond, she dipped one toe in and released a gratifying sigh. Warm as bath water. Feeling reckless, and wearing only her camisole and pantalets, she dove in.
She flipped onto her back when she came up for air, allowing her long hair to float behind her. Studying the clouds above, daydreams found her. She relived the race with a twinge of guilt. Her desperate need to win seemed trivial now, not to mention childish. She vowed the next time she saw Creed she’d confess her sin, admit she’d cheated. Her spirits and body refreshed, she left the water, plucked her clothing from the ground and walked toward Adobe. The stallion’s ears hugged his massive head; he blew air through his snout and pawed the ground. The hair on her forearms stood at attention. She couldn’t shake the feeling someone watched her.
Wheat-colored swamp reeds rustled before a man walked from a thicket of wild sumac. She stared into Creed’s eyes, aware of her thundering heart and the sculpted planes of his gorgeous face. Covering herself with a gasp, anger found her. "Were you spying on me again? Don’t you have a more pleasant way of spending a Sunday afternoon?"
His cool gaze swept over her. "I wasn’t spying. This is the shortest route to Full Circle from my place, isn’t it?"
Confusion stormed her brain. "I suppose, but I would have foregone my swim if you’d spoken up."
"Why should I? I’ve been coming here for years. Besides, only a fool would speak up and ruin the view."
Heat rushed to her cheeks. "Maybe you have been coming here for years, but the pond is on Full Circle property."
His jaw twitched when he advanced one slow foot at a time. Her blood boiled, whether from anger or passion she didn’t know. ‘The wily fox after the hapless hen,’ her mind screamed. ‘Run!’
He caught her wrist before she had time to mount and spun her around. His warm breath fanned her cheek and the intoxicating scents of leather, horse and man washed over her. Without thought, she brought her free hand up and connected with his cheek. And then stared at the fresh, red handprint. What had she done? She fought the urge to touch him, wipe away her impulsive anger.
Pulling her against him, he grabbed a length of her hair and arched her neck back. His mouth came down on hers, demanding and hard. A whimper came from her throat and sane reason deserted her.
She couldn't remember how they ended up on the grass, her beneath him, his weight pressing down on her. When he found her lips again, liquid fire pushed through her veins and spread outward to her limbs. He tasted of tobacco and pine needles.
She strained beneath him when his hands rolled the pantalets from her hips. He tore camisole while exposing her breasts. A part of her hoped he’d stop, another prayed he wouldn't.
"Too late now little hell-cat."
His words sent shivers down her spine. His hand came up and cupped her breast, kneading, caressing, pitching her into a frenzied state. H er nipples hardened to tight, small nubs when he took one between his thumb and finger. A small moan escaped her lips. She yearned for something more, but what?
Through a numb haze she watched him remove his clothing, and gasped when the warm skin of his torso connected with hers. Their lips met again, this time gentle, soft. He teased her mouth open with his tongue and wound his fingers through the hair at the sides of her head. She felt trapped,
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