Page 8 of Dirty Cowboys
And she is still utterly oblivious she’s being watched.
“How do we want to do this?” Walker asks, finally breaking his silence.
“Let’s do this roundup style,” Nash suggests.
“The goal is to let her see us,” I remind them. “We want her to know she’s surrounded, but not cornered. Always leave her an escape route back to the house.”
They nod and split off. Nash’s horse picks its way carefully through the tall grass while Walker disappears from my line of sight. Within minutes, they’re in position, and I can see the soft glow of their masks.
Indie has moved about halfway along the path now, completely absorbed in getting the perfect shots for her online followers.
It’s time.
I urge my horse forward, breaking cover from the tree line, moving just fast enough to catch her attention—though she takes almost thirty seconds to notice.
When she does, she freezes. Her phone drops to her side as she stares. Then, even from this far away, I can see the moment recognition hits.
She stands still in the field while I continue moving closer. Fear takes over, and I secretly urge her not to let it consume her; she needs to use it to remember this is what she wanted.
Nash makes his move. She spins toward him as Walker emerges from her right.
Now she can see all three of us, positioned in a triangle with her at the center. The glow from our masks is the only light, hopefully setting the scene for her.
She turns in a slow circle, taking in each of us. Her breathing has changed. I can see her chest rise and fall rapidly even from this distance.
But she hasn’t run. Not yet.
I move my horse closer, cutting the distance between us. Nash and Walker mirror my movements, keeping our triangle formation as we slowly close in.
Indie raises her phone, and for a moment I think she’s going to photograph us. Instead, she clutches it against her chest, her eyes wide as she watches us approach.
When we’re about thirty feet away, I hold up my hand again, and all three of us stop. We sit and wait, leaving the ball in her court. What happens next is up to her; we would never take advantage of a woman. Though we hope she wants this because it’s an opportunity that doesn’t come around very often.
Indie takes a step backward toward the farmhouse, a smile on her face.
Then she spins and runs.
She’s fast for someone in new boots, but she’s nomatch for the horses. We follow at a pace that gives her the illusion she’s close to getting caught. She stumbles once but catches herself.
This kind of chase is something that could easily become an addiction. The way she glances back over her shoulder, her eyes wide but not truly afraid, has lust flooding my veins.
We herd her like cattle. Nash and Walker flank her while I bring up the rear, ensuring she stays on course toward the farmhouse.
When she is near the house, I whistle. Nash and Walker peel off, disappearing into the darkness as quickly as they appeared. I continue following her until she stumbles onto her porch and stares at me. I turn and leave, my smile wide behind my mask, knowing that this is the start of something fun.
Nash and Walker are waiting for me beyond the Patterson’s property line.
“Think she’ll be back out tomorrow night?” Nash asks.
“Oh, she’ll be back,” I say with certainty.
Walker smirks, even though I know he’s a tad more reserved about the situation. When he is with a woman, he likes to fuck them from behind, hard and fast, so he doesn’t give in to temptation and scare them away. But honestly, I think Indie might be exactly what he needs.
Chapter Four
Indie
I wake up to the sound of my phone buzzing with notifications. I’m still in shock about what happened last night. Someone is reading my blog. Though a part of me wonders if I dreamed the whole thing.
