Backstretch Baby (16 page)

He pressed a key on the laptop and closed the lid. His hot gaze returned to her face, seeming to lock on her lips. “Want to check the horses first?” he asked quietly.

She shrugged, pretending a casualness she didn’t feel. “First? As in before the shower, or before bed?”

“I’m not caring much about the shower,” he said.

“Okay,” she said. “I better check the barn now. In case I don’t get back out until morning.”

He nodded, his eyes so dark now they appeared black. He set down his beer and tugged her toward the door, and if the air had crackled before, it now seemed even more alive. Almost painful.

This was always a scary time. Trusting a man. And he was not the average railbird variety. His knuckles were ridged with scars, the palms of his hands callused. Yet she’d seen them soothe a horse, had felt their gentleness.

He hadn’t asked any of her history, and it was clear he didn’t wish to discuss his. And good men sometimes ended up in prison, just like Dex. So the past didn’t really matter. Not to her.

But when she walked beside him into the barn, her heart was thudding so loudly she feared it would frighten the horses. However, they didn’t seem to notice her racing heart, or her quickened breath or Rick’s barely concealed urgency.

“All good?” he asked gruffly, after she’d checked every animal.

She nodded, her throat dry.

“Thank God.” He scooped her into his arms and carried her past the sleepy-eyed horses. Strode to the RV, climbed the steps with a single bound, and used his boot to push open the door.

He carried her into the bedroom and she could feel his steely focus, the pulsing tautness of his body. He didn’t seem to mind that her hair was flattened, her face streaked with dust, her clothes tired and rumpled. No doubt, a man like him had enjoyed a smorgasbord of women, from biker babes to perfumed thrill seekers with red lips and perfect hair. And she didn’t want to stress over anything as trivial as dust and helmet hair and how she might not match up…but somehow she did.

“I’d really like a shower first,” she whispered. “Just so I feel better.”

She guessed he’d try to overrule her on that, maybe reassure her that it didn’t matter. And while it would be nice to wash off the road dust, if she were honest, she was just as eager to try out that magnetic bed. It was time to stop worrying, stop thinking, and just feel.

But his patience surprised her. He didn’t sigh or grunt or argue. “Okay, sweetheart,” was all he said.

He turned and carried her into the bathroom. Deposited her on the shower floor and stepped back. Clearly he wasn’t as eager as her, or as attracted—

Seconds later, a shocking spray of water drenched her face. It wasn’t cold but it wasn’t warm either. She squealed and scooted sideways, hurrying to escape the pulsing jets.

But he blocked her way. He’d already whipped off his shirt and now stepped from his jeans, grinning with mischief and something else. A raw longing that left his eyes dark and smoldering, his mouth utterly sensual.

And she no longer noticed the streaming water or how the temperature was warming, or that the pulsing shower really did invigorate the skin. Because he was utterly and mouth-wateringly magnificent, like a statue that had captured a warrior’s physique. His chest appeared carved from granite, although several white scars proved he was indeed human.

She could only gape, her breath choppy. As an athlete she appreciated fitness but his utter steeliness was remarkable. She couldn’t help but reach out and slide her hand over that rippled chest, with skin surprisingly smooth and unmarked. Except for a few scars the size of bullet holes. And a barbed wire tat around his lower back.

She stepped back, silently inviting him to join her beneath the spraying water. His entire body was rigid and it was apparent it would have been much more sensible to move directly to the bed. There wasn’t much room in the tiny shower and she’d always needed considerable foreplay. But judging by the urgency radiating from that virile body, he’d be unlikely to linger.

He stepped in, swallowing up the space, his erection so huge its bulbous tip jabbed her hip.

She drew in an uneasy breath, guessing she’d be sore for riding tomorrow. But his head dipped, lingering over a particularly sensitive spot of her collarbone. His mouth was warm and slow and tender, and the feel of his tongue sent familiar quivers shooting to her core.

He raised her wet shirt, inches at a time, stroking her skin with his mouth, his tongue, his hands, first with a butterfly touch and then more demanding. He moved as if her body was meant to be appreciated and he had the experience to do it. And by the time his thumb finally reached her taut nipple, she quivered with longing.

And it was apparent the cramped shower wouldn’t be a problem at all.

The sound of restless horses seeped into Eve’s consciousness. But she didn’t want to move, too entangled in Rick’s arms and legs, her head too comfortable, pillowed against his warm chest.

She peered up. His eyes were half-lidded, but his smile was gorgeous. Thick stubble covered his jaw, extending along his neck. She hadn’t noticed it last night, but she’d certainly felt it. All over.

“Awesome night,” he said, his mouth still lifted in a smile. “You don’t even snore.”

She doubted either of them had slept enough to snore. It seemed she’d had her year’s quota of sex in one night. He might be accustomed to a little more though. Already he was stiffening against her thigh, and surprisingly, her own body tingled in response.

But someone was rattling buckets in the barn, and horses stomped, impatient for their breakfast. It was time to stop marveling at how he’d made her body sing, and turn her concentration back to riding.

She wasn’t sure how he wanted to handle this though. Was he even allowed to have a relationship when he was on a job? If they hurried, perhaps she could sneak out of the RV. Pretend they hadn’t spent an amazing night together.

“I have to go,” she said. “Sounds like Ashley is here. Or maybe Miguel.”

“Let’s stay in bed,” Rick said, running his warm palm over her hip. “Wait until they saddle your horse.”

“Then you’re okay with this?”

His eyes whipped open. “On them knowing we’re together?” He spoke like it was an ongoing thing, certainly not a one-night fling, and her heart gave a little skip.

“I just wondered if this was allowed,” she said, “you know, with Taylor Agency. And Scott being your boss.”

“I can do what I want.” He scowled, his voice almost testy. “The only boss I need to please is you.”

“And you did please me,” she said. “Repeatedly.”

He still looked offended at the idea of Scott telling him what to do, and she totally understood the feeling. She pressed a soothing kiss against his cheek. “I have to get up now,” she said. “And you’re not going to get out of cleaning stalls today, no matter how magnificent you were.”

“I was magnificent?” His smile returned, a rather smug one, but she figured he deserved a little praise.

“Not sure if I like the whisker burn,” she said, prying her leg out and edging to the side of the bed. “And a couple areas need improvement. But overall you were very satisfactory.”

His hand hooked around her waist. “But I feel obliged to work on those areas now,” he said. “Just until I get it right.”

“Can’t. I have horses to ride. And it’s always a rush fitting them in before the track closes.”

She lifted his arm and eased from the bed, putting a more prudent distance between her and temptation. Surprisingly, she wasn’t a bit sore, just utterly sated and ready to climb into the saddle.

It would be nice to gulp a coffee first but it would take too long to make, and she wanted to be the first rider on the track. It was safer for her young horses when the ground was freshly harrowed. Less chance of them pulling a tendon, straining a ligament, or worse. Usually she stopped at the track kitchen on her walk to the barn, but last night was an unusual event. And well worth missing her usual wake-up coffee.

And then she smelled it. The distinctive smell of hickory.

She twisted, surprise mingling with delight. “You made coffee? When did you do that?”

“Turned the timer on last night.” His gaze drifted over her naked body, his eyes glittering with appreciation.

She blinked, rather chagrined he’d had the presence of mind to prepare coffee, while she hadn’t been able to think of anything much. Except him. Even the drenching shower hadn’t cooled her passion—

“Oh, no.” She jerked back in dismay. “My clothes are wet. I have to run back to the dorms. I’m going to be so late.”

He rose from the bed, all gorgeous naked male, and padded from the room. His tight butt disappeared around the corner. Something clicked in the hallway, and he ambled back with her clothes draped over his arm. “They’re dry now,” he said.

She took them, clutching them to her chest. Great sex, fresh coffee, clean clothes. This guy was a dream. But it was rather embarrassing how he’d turned her into a quivering mass of desire, with no thought of anything after he’d pushed her against the shower wall and hooked her legs around his hips.

“Thank you,” she said. “You were certainly thinking much clearer than me last night.”

“Not a chance.” He slid his hand around the back of her neck and gave her such a tender kiss, she stopped worrying about his surprisingly organized mind—and his utter, and totally distracting, nakedness.

“Are you riding Stinger first?” he asked, tugging on his jeans.

She shook her head. She was in too good a mood and far too relaxed to waste it on Stinger. “He’ll go last today.” She peered sideways, watching as Rick pulled up his zipper. It was a little disappointing to see that magnificent body concealed.

“Good,” he said. “I’ll lead him over when you go. It’ll give me a chance to talk to Woody. See what he can tell me about Victoria’s friends.”

“So we still have to worry?” She fumbled with her bra, trying to hurry, realizing she’d soon be the only one naked. “You don’t think the RV will keep her people away?”

He buckled his belt, his eyes on her face. “It will help,” he said. “But nothing’s a certainty. Don’t worry. Just concentrate on your horses.”

She gave a little nod. If the barn was safe, there was no reason to fret. The horses never went anywhere, except to the track where she was always on their backs. And no matter how reckless Victoria’s henchmen were, they couldn’t do anything there. So it seemed the only thing left to worry about were Tizzy’s and Stinger’s races this weekend. And how long she’d have to wait to see Joey.

Rick slid his hands over her back and deftly fastened her bra, as if he’d been helping her dress for years. His warm breath feathered her skin. And even though they’d shared an intensely satisfying night, his touch left her hungering for more.

She swallowed, aware she had a tight schedule. The sun was almost up, horses needed conditioning, and successful trainers didn’t lie around in bed during training hours.

Besides, Rick was fully dressed now. He seemed to have no trouble moving on, once he made a decision. She wasn’t even going to beat him to the bathroom, and that would slow her even more.

But he pressed a kiss against the back of her neck, and she could tell his mouth was smiling, as if reading her mind. “Bathroom’s all yours,” he said. “I’ll pour your coffee. Then I’ll get at those stalls.”

He turned her around and even though he was still smiling his eyes looked darker, more serious. “Ride safe,” he whispered.

*

“He’s gorgeous,” Ashley said, adjusting her hold on Tizzy’s lead shank. “But way too scary a ride for me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Eve dipped a sponge into the sudsy bucket. “Tizzy’s easy. Like a dependable cow pony.”

“I’m not talking about Tizzy.”

Eve sloshed the sponge over Tizzy’s sweaty back. Ashley had been making snide comments all morning, ever since she recovered from the shock of seeing a luxurious RV parked beside the barn.

“I heard biker clubs share their women,” Ashley went on, her eyes bright with curiosity, and perhaps a touch of maliciousness. “And that they earn a colored wing for group sex, a skull-and-bones patch for murder. But I’m sure you already know that. And that you’ve checked his jacket...”

Eve scooped up the hose. She sort of pointed it in the direction of Tizzy’s neck, but most of the water drenched Ashley. “Oops,” Eve said.

Ashley squealed and scrambled back, almost stumbling in her haste.

“Sorry,” she said, shoving the sodden hair back from her face. “I deserved that. But Rick is intimidating. I know he works for your brother-in-law and he’s a big help around the barn, but we don’t know anything about him. Liam is concerned too. He thinks Rick might be hiding from a gang. And that he’s probably packing a gun or two.”

“No guns are allowed at the track,” Eve said.

“Yes. But he’s not the type to worry about rules. Bet he’s used to lots of different stuff too. You know, like kinky things.” Ashley’s voice lowered, turning almost wistful. “Did he tie you up?”

Eve dragged a sweat scraper over Tizzy’s neck, her strokes jerky. She and Ashley had been jockeys together and they’d shared a few bawdy jokes. But Rick was off limits. Besides, there were all kinds of bike clubs. Gang members might follow a different code, but they weren’t all promiscuous.

Still, Ashley’s comments left her feeling vulnerable. Uncertain. And she certainly didn’t want to hear any more. “We can talk about the horses,” she said. “Or you can be quiet.”

“Sorry. I’m just worried. This is so unlike you. I figured you two were together when you didn’t show up last night.” Ashley hesitated then made a wry face. “You and Rick haven’t stopped grinning all morning. And that RV is like a hotel. Guess I’m just jealous.”

Her burst of honesty soothed Eve’s temper. Jockeys were a competitive bunch, but Ashley was incapable of guile. Probably why they were friends.

“You can go inside and take a shower,” Eve said. “And there’s lots of coffee. Including decaf. Help yourself.”

“Really?” Ashley brightened. “You don’t mind? What about Rick?”