ComfortZone (7 page)

Chapter Six

Mary Ellen kicked an empty bucket in her tack room. The loud
clatter did little to satisfy her anger and frustration. Times like these, a
punching bag would be very handy. But she had her babies. And Jessica, the teen
helping her in the barn that day, was around. No need to show off her temper
and upset everyone. She decided to focus on something else, so she changed into
the jeans and boots she always kept in the office and took Rachel out into the
paddock for a workout.

Of course, workout was really just a word for having her on
the lunge line while Jessica created distractions and noises meant to challenge
Rachel into staying calm, not reacting. Ross, her male equine companion, wasn’t
even close to ready yet. But Rachel had real promise as a nice horse for
intermediate riders. Not that they had many during camp, but Mary Ellen gave
lessons as well throughout the year, and some of her riders were getting pretty
good in the saddle.

The best part, of course, was that the exercise took her
entire concentration. No room for thoughts of controlling jerkoffs named Brice.

“Jess,” she said, wiping sweat from her brow. “Go ahead and
cool her down, then take her in, rub her down, give her a treat.” She gave the
mare’s nose an affectionate stroke and Rachel leaned in for just a little more.
“She’s gonna be a great horse for someone like Andrew this summer.”

“Sure is. That kid’s got promise. These two will fall in
love in a few weeks when Andrew shows up for camp.” Jessica took the lead rope
and walked Rachel back toward the barn. Thank God she’d hired some part-time
help. The barn wasn’t the most active place on camp, but it required daily
maintenance, and it was tedious sometimes. And despite her love of the horses,
working with them seven days a week for months on end was too much, even for
her. Especially in the summer, with hundreds of kids running around.

Jess disappeared into the back of the barn. And Mary Ellen
was again alone with her own inner monologue, most of which was starting to
sound like a depressing version of Shakespeare. One where the heroine kills the
hero. That had her grinning, just a little. Nice thought, if a little
impractical. She had to get out of the funk though.

She took Cosby out for another good, long ride, then left
the barn in Jessica’s capable hands. For a moment, she debated walking back to
the mess hall and seeing if the guys were still giving Brice a hard time. The
group wasn’t a bad bunch, just got ahead of themselves on celebrating their
weekend of bonding time. They’d been nice enough to her, respectful. Even if a
few eyes had roamed a little. Could have been worse.

But how Brice was managing the bunch of hyper executives
wasn’t her business, and she wasn’t quite ready yet to face him. She might
cause him bodily harm…and she really didn’t want to take the time to hide the
body.

The choice was taken out of her hands though, when she
opened her cabin door and saw Brice lounging on her bed.

“I really hate that you have a key to this place,” she
grumbled and closed the door behind her.

He shrugged. “Plight of being the manager.”

“Go manage something else. Far away from here.” She didn’t
wait for a response, walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.
If he wanted to talk, he’d have to wait. She was grimy and sweaty and not in
the mood. She stripped off her tank, her jeans and her boots and left them in a
pile on the small floor while she jumped in the shower. The first shocking
blast of cold water as the pipes worked to heat it up gave her a clearer head.
And as the temperature worked its way from cool to lukewarm, she ducked under
the stream and tried to soak away the thoughts.

Nope. Didn’t work. What was he doing out there? Did he
leave? Was he still sitting on her bed as if he owned the place? And why did
she care so damn much?

The answer came faster than she expected. With her hair
still soapy, she cocked her head to the side as she heard the familiar snick of
the bathroom door closing. She sighed and dipped her head back, letting the
suds rinse out.

“Privacy is something you need to learn about, Brice.”

“Maybe I just want to talk.”

Bull-honky. “Shouldn’t you be out there with the band of
merry drunks? They aren’t exactly trustworthy individuals.”

“Half of them were passed out by the time we dragged them
all to their bunks, and the other half were lying down for a nap. They’re safe,
all snug in their beds. Everyone knows to radio me if they wake up and start
making noise.”

“If that’s the case then why are you— Ah!” She screamed and
covered herself automatically as the shower curtain was yanked back. The
feminine, involuntary gesture annoyed her, but she’d always been one to be
easily startled.

Brice stepped in, completely naked, and cut off any ideas of
protest she could have managed to give. The spray of water against his skin,
shades darker than hers, made him gleam. Oh, she would love to run her tongue
down every line and curve of his torso.

No. No she wouldn’t. Because she was still angry. Because he
was an assuming jerk.

He reached out and smoothed back her soaking wet hair. She
couldn’t very well pull away, given it was a shower and there was nowhere to go
but out. And she wasn’t done yet. Plus, it’d look childish.

“Sorry.”

She huffed. “Well you should be sorry. You know I startle
easily.”

He grinned and smoothed his hands down her jaw, around her
neck to her shoulders where he rubbed gently. “But that cute little girly
squeak you made was so adorable.”

She slapped at his hands for that, but he only laughed. The
deep chuckle echoed off the tile walls, which made the space seem even smaller,
his presence even larger. Enveloping her senses.

“That’s not what I’m sorry for though. I was wrong about
earlier. To assume you had some sort of weird ulterior motive for being in
there with the guys. Stupid of me. I shouldn’t have jumped on it.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Okay, Brice apologizing was akin
to the apocalypse. And twice in one week. First at the reception, now here. It
was official. The world was coming to an end.

“Why do you look so shocked?”

“Because you never apologize.”

He shook his head. “I do. When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong.”

“Not to me, you don’t.”

He stepped forward, backing her up until her shoulders
pressed against the cold tile. “You don’t always bring out the best in me.”

“What a compliment.” Her snark didn’t keep him from
advancing.

“It’s not meant to be. It’s just the truth. My…instinct
sometimes gets in the way.”

Wow. The thought that Brice had a fault, and was admitting
it to her in such a real, vulnerable way, was powerful. It was the first hint
of something he couldn’t always control, and she wanted more. She wanted him in
complete abandon.

“Apology accepted?”

She bit her lip, wondering if she could prolong the torture
a little. But that wasn’t fair. An honest moment didn’t deserve careless play.
With a nod and a grin, she reached up on her toes and gave him a kiss. He
pressed fully into her, chest molding to her breasts, belly to belly. His cock,
stiff and straight out, pressed against her rib cage. She rolled her legs, just
to tease a little.

He hissed and tore his lips away. “Time to play then, hmm?”

“Yes, please.”

“On your knees.”

Yes, please.

Brice held his breath. Would she? Or like always, would Mary
Ellen buck against any idea of authority and do the exact opposite of what
she’d been asked…or commanded.

But with only the hint of a smile, she gave no resistance
and dropped down in the shower. He angled his back to keep the water from
hitting her and watched.

Watched while she spread her hands across the tops of his
thighs, rubbed around to his ass, kneaded the muscles. Her short hair shone with
amber, copper and brass highlights, and was pushed back from her face,
showcasing her tiny features. She was so delicate, and yet she attacked
everything with a larger-than-life attitude and a vitality that confused even
him.

She played, because that’s who she was, teasing him with
soft kisses on the tops of his thighs, his abdomen, the base of his cock. One
hand gently cupped his balls, kneading them with a pressure that was just
enough to make him weak, not enough to hurt. But he knew Mary Ellen. The thought
that she had him, quite literally, by the balls pleased her, and he saw the
glint in her eyes.

Her attitude always amused him, even as it confused him. So
confident, so willing to put herself out there, to be so sure she wouldn’t get
hurt. Or if she would, that she could recover.

The sign of someone who grew up confident in the
unconditional love around them, never once doubting her family wanted her.
Cherished her.

One long lick up the underside of his shaft made him bite
back a moan. No, she’d have to work harder than that for a response. The tip of
her tongue traced around the top of his cock, dipping into the slit, around the
underside of the head. He would have sworn he just got a little harder, if that
was even possible.

She opened her mouth to take him in, and his breath caught.
But she grinned and moved back to circle teasing kisses once more.

So she wanted to think she was in control. Good try. He
gripped the back of her head and angled it so she looked at him.

“Playtime’s over, baby. Open that beautiful mouth for me.”
She stared at him, almost mulish in her stubbornness. He used his thumb to
gently massage the side of her jaw until her lips parted almost naturally, and
he pressed forth. It was either jerk away, or open up.

Thank God she opened. Her sweet, pink lips took inch after
inch of his cock, so many shades darker than her own marble-white skin, and he
was in heaven. When he was almost all the way in, she wrapped a small fist
around the base of his cock and squeezed. The pressure, combined with the hot
wetness of her mouth, had him holding in a curse.

“Suck, baby. Come on.”

She rotated her hand, the friction and the suction a
delicious combination. If he wasn’t careful, if he didn’t hold himself back,
he’d be going off in a matter of seconds. His hand guided her back, until the
head grazed her teeth. He hissed, not from pain. No, because it was just the
right amount of sting to take the pleasure to another level. As if it could go
any higher.

Once more she took him in, using her hand to cover his
entire length and sucked. Her little hum of pleasure shot straight through him
and he gritted his teeth in the fight against his own orgasm.

He wasn’t going to last. He’d worry about the embarrassment
of it later.

“Pull back, babe. I want to fuck that sweet mouth of yours.”
She obeyed immediately, adding to his pleasure. And he pushed in, backing out
gently, slowly arching his hips in an intimate rhythm, making use of her warm
mouth.

And if the expression on her face was any hint, she wasn’t
at all upset about it. He paused, and as if they’d been lovers for years, she
knew instinctively what he wanted. She sucked hard, squeezing her hand around
his base, using the other to tug with soft finesse on his balls.

He pulled back, pushed forward again and was too close to
hold off any longer.

“I’m going to come, baby,” he ground out. He thought she’d
pull away, finish with her hand. Expected it. But she kept going, sucking
harder, squeezing in rhythm with his thrusts, caressing his balls until the
pressure built up and spilled over and he came, hot jets in her mouth. She
groaned, sucking greedily, the vibration only prolonging the release and his
reaction.

A long moment passed, her still on her knees, looking up at
him, pleased as hell with herself. He used his arms for support against the
shower wall, not wanting to collapse on top of her. Because his legs just felt
that weak.

“I always like to bring a man to his knees, figuratively of
course.” She smiled like a cat who found the milk pail uncovered. If there was
a sexier sight on earth, he couldn’t dream one up. Then her head tilted and her
lips curved. “Though the fact that I’m the one on my knees makes it a little
more amusing.”

Damn, she was still kneeling on the shower floor. He reached
and pulled her up, pressing her back against the tile. Because he couldn’t seem
to resist, he kissed her nose, her cheek, her jaw, below her ear.

“Your turn.” He wasn’t one to leave his woman behind on the
count. With one hand, he hitched her left leg up, opening her to him, giving
him access to what he wanted.

The humidity of the shower and the hot dampness of her pussy
mingled, and the first cautious touch felt like fire. She was ready, so damn
ready for him, he could have pounded into her in a moment and she’d have no
complaints. But this was for her. All her.

He sucked gently at her skin, bit the tendons running
between her neck and shoulder. She arched with grace, giving him better access.
And he let one finger circle the rim of her damp opening before coming up to
graze her clit. She shuddered, a little sound caught in her throat.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please, Brice.”

The vulnerability she showed, just for him, pinched his
heart more than she could have ever known. Tough little Mary Ellen, always so
brash and sure and loud and confident. Reduced to little, whispered pleading.
And yet, she never seemed to have a problem with it. Was never ashamed to show
him her desires, to show him exactly what she wanted, how much she wanted it.
To give up that façade for him.

He was proud of her strength, even as he envied it a little.
Hopefully she always had enough strength for the both of them.

The pad of his thumb circled her clit, pressing against the
side like Morse code. Her hips thrust forward, silently begging for more. He’d
give it to her. In the end, it seemed as if he couldn’t deny her much of
anything. He held off so long, fighting their attraction, the possibility of
their being together, all for nothing. Brice couldn’t stay away from Mary Ellen
any more than he could quit breathing.