Page 13 of Saddle and Bound

When I first saw her walk into the stables, my heart skipped a beat. For the second time, she came looking for me of her own accord. Well, if we’re keeping score, it’s two to infinity. Considering the countless times my feet have taken me to find her somewhere around the ranch, unbidden.

I knew she was up to something when she showed up here. She’s not as good at lying as she thinks. Especially when she gave herself away, trying to brush off my teasing. But I played along, too eager to resist. I certainly didn’t expect her to have planned something like that.

The city princess has more guts than I thought. And damn it... I’d convinced myself my obsession with her was just a passing fantasy. I thought it was nothing more than a stupid crush because of her fancy, maddeningly perfect clothes—and how damn good she looks in them. But then I saw her in simple jeans and a blouse, and holy hell! I’ve never seen anyone more irresistible. Especially when her eyes sparkle with that defiant challenge.

Those jeans fit her perfectly. Her ass is the most tempting thing I’ve ever seen.

Staying up all night to finish work early? Worth it. Yeah… because clearly, I’m supposed to be working right now.

But with Rosie Thorne around, that’s impossible.

I take a little longer than necessary to saddle the horse, trying to deal with the painfully obvious hard-on I’ve got going on. Last night was bad enough—rushing out after helping her set the table. It took every ounce of self-control I had to act casual, pretending I wasn’t burning inside and wanting to turn her around and take her right there on the table, consequences be damned. I had to escape to hide the evidence.

God, I’m pathetic.

I bolted to my room and jerked off to thoughts of her. Her lush red lips, fiery hair, that perfect ass, and that sharp tongue I’d love to silence in the most sinful ways. The scent of roses lingering around her.

Once wasn’t nearly enough.

Neither was twice.

By the time I showed up for dinner, I was drained from three rounds back-to-back. I tried to focus on every possible topic the others brought up, desperate to avoid thinking about Rosie and risking another escape.

But… ignoring her? That’s just impossible.

I shake my head, trying to focus on the task at hand. I can't afford to be distracted, not with Storm. This stallion is as unpredictable as a summer storm, just as his name suggests. But he's also the perfect horse to test Rosie... and moreover, I'm particularly attached to him. He's a very important horse to me... and I don't know why, but I want Rosie's first experience to be with him. All this sentimentality seems absurd, especially considering the fact that I don't even know her. But that's how it is. I feel strange things related to her, and among these oddities is the fact that I absolutely want her first time to be on my favorite horse. I acknowledge it, act on it, and decide to ignore it. Right now, I have absolutely no intention of psychoanalyzing my absurd behaviors.

As I finish saddling Storm, I hear Rosie's footsteps approaching. I turn around and, for a moment, I'm breathless. The dawn light illuminates her from behind, creating a halo around her red hair. I'm not used to seeing her so casual, but I'm starting to think she would look good in anything. Or that she would look really good without anything on. I try to forget that last thought too. She looks... comfortable. As if she belonged in this place.

"So, cowboy," Rosie says, approaching Storm cautiously but without fear. "Where do we start?"

My smile widens. "First of all, you need to let him know who's in charge. Approach slowly, maintain eye contact."

"Good," I say, approaching. "Now, gently stroke his muzzle."

Rosie reaches out, hesitating only for a second before touching Storm. The horse visibly calms under her touch.

I watch as Rosie follows my instructions. Her posture is stiff, but her movements are fluid. Storm snorts, shaking his mane, but doesn't move. Is it normal to be jealous of a horse? Because right now, all I can feel is a deep, irrational jealousy toward my own damn horse. The way Rosie’s looking at him, the soft affection in her eyes, the gentle touch of her hand—I want all of it directed at me.

I’m losing my mind.

I have to stop thinking about her.

I try to shove all these completely inappropriate thoughts into some distant, far-off corner of my mind. Swallowing hard, I focus on giving her an appraisal.

"You have a natural talent," I comment, surprised and impressed.

Rosie looks at me with a triumphant smile. This is the first time she’s smiled at me like that, and I immediately want more. It’s the most beautiful, radiant smile I’ve ever seen. It warms my heart, my soul, and makes me feel a thousand indescribable things I’ve never felt before.

Now I’m really losing it with these thoughts. I have to stop—seriously. A fleeting attraction? Sure, I can begrudgingly and painfully admit it’s not so fleeting anymore. But these thoughts? No way. They’re dangerously close to something deeper, something raw and unfamiliar that I don’t dare even name. The idea alone feels like stepping into quicksand. I clear my throat, but even so, when I try to speak, my voice comes out low and rough, betraying every effort to stay composed.

"Let's see how you do in the saddle." And before helping her mount, I do another inexplicable thing. I put my cowboy hat on her head. At first, she seems really confused. So am I... especially when images of her wearing only my hat start popping into my head, and I have to force myself to cover those thoughts with something gruesome or disgusting.

But by now, it’s clear there’s nothing I can do about the erections Rosie keeps giving me.

"Complete package," I tell her... trying to divert attention, and I wink at her, in the way I know irritates her but that she might secretly like a little. She surprises me too... because she rewards me with a smile. I think it's the first real smile I've seen her make since she arrived here. It’s different from the smile she gave me before. That one had already felt like the most beautiful, satisfying smile in the world, both to my eyes and my stupid heart. But that one was triumphant. It was a smile of victory.

This one, though, is for me. It’s all for me.

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