Maybe Baby (30 page)

I sighed as I walked over to the window of my office and glanced down at the busy traffic below. I missed having Tylar near me, even though my gut told me that it would never work with us. I had no right in taking it to a sexual level the way that I had with her. It had been a temporary lapse in my good judgment. Now she was totally under my skin. She was like a narcotic that I craved, but I'd be damned if I'd let myself become some pussy-whipped lap dog.

I knew that going forward I had to show her that I was a fair man. She didn't deserve to be run-off because of my flagrantly selfish actions and reactions. I certainly would've been open to continuing a casual relationship with her, but she clearly articulated just now in my office that she needed more than that. She could not be what I wanted her to be; and I could not be what she wanted me to be.

It appeared that we had reached an impasse. Yet I took some comfort in knowing that she'd still be close by, working with Derringer, and maybe somehow that would serve as atonement for what I had done. The realization that I could no longer bury myself inside of her sweetness, or feel her lips on mine would be my punishment for not being able to give her what she really needed from me, and what she deserved to find with someone else.

My blood ran cold when I thought of any other man touching what I had touched, being where I had been. I needed to stop torturing myself with irrational thinking like that. For fuck's sake, she would be headed back to college soon; and I'd be headed back to Atlanta where my focus needed to be on the firm, and on women like Charlotte Rose who understood and respected boundaries.

I convinced myself that in time, everything would return to normal; this brief, though interminable infatuation I'd developed for Tylar Preston would eventually diminish, and my conscience would be clear knowing that I had done the right thing in allowing her to continue working with Derringer, and realizing her full potential as an equestrian.

As I watched the cars below, weave in and out of traffic and dodge jay-walking pedestrians, I concluded that this thing with Tylar Preston had been nothing more than a simple seduction; a brief but sweet sexual interlude for me, and a coming-of-age experience for her. I hoped, at the very least, it would remain a pleasant memory for the both of us to look back on one day.

The thing was, I didn't know shit from Shinola…

I had a lot to learn . . . about myself.

Chapter 29

I'd been feeling more at peace since the blow-up with Trey that had sent me packing to Atlanta because I realized that I did love him. But I also knew that I couldn't abide his need to control me. Of course, there was also the matter of his avoidance of love and commitment, and general mistrust of all human beings. The emotional roller coaster had ended. I wanted an even keel, even if it meant cutting Trey out.

I successfully avoided him for several weeks. The dressage training with Derringer was going well. Mark and I were able to pick up where we'd left off. The test was less than one week away. Mark continued to work on the choreography. He felt that both Derringer and I had the potential for a more advanced technical routine. We'd increased our training schedule from four hours to a total of six hours per day. Spending that time with Derringer each day made me feel close to Trey, and so exhausted I'd fall into bed fairly early each night, happy for the escape.

Tonight though, something had woken me from my sleep. My eyes flew open. I could hear the horses in the stable making a ruckus. My alarm clock told me it was after two a.m. I was starting to regret taking the cottage that Ray had vacated. Although the proximity to the stables made me feel safer, it was also louder, in particular when something was riling the horses at this time of the morning.

Finally, realizing that it wasn’t going to stop without some intervention, I got out of bed, pulling a pair of shorts on over my panties. I was sure the horses wouldn’t mind my attire of shorts, tee shirt, and boots. I found a flashlight in the drawer of my nightstand and tested it, rushing out the door.

A slight breeze blew, crickets chirped. In the distance, an owl hooted. There was a light on in the tack room. If someone was in there, I wasn't going in until I knew who it was. I couldn’t imagine any legitimate reason for someone to be in there so late with no foals due for months.

I crept alongside the stable and peered in to the corner of the window. The light was on in the tack room, but it was empty. I moved directly in front of the window so that I could view the entire room. No one was visible. I suppose it was possible a light had been left on, but that wouldn’t explain the horses’ behavior. I opened the barn door just a crack and peered inside. The horses had quieted somewhat, but I could see that Derringer was restless. It was then that I heard his smooth and silky voice.

“Derringer buddy, how’s my girl been doing?” Trey’s voice slurred drunkenly. I’d never heard him like this. “Did you see my girl today, huh? Well, I didn’t. I haven’t seen her for quite some time. Are you keeping a good eye on her for me? You'd better have my back on this one, Derringer. You let me know if that son-of-a-bitch Montgomery fuckin’ touches her, you hear? No one can touch her except me. Isn’t that right buddy?”

I stifled a giggle; sharing his feelings with a horse was so not Trey!

“Who am I fuckin' kiddin’?” he asked the horse. “She won’t let me touch her anymore. You know why? I’m
fucked
up, that’s why! I smother her, I fucking smother her. I can’t help it Derringer - maybe I fucking love her after all. You know what that’s like, buddy? I guess not, seeing that you’re a gelding.”

Trey started chuckling to himself. “You know what Derringer? I’d been better off to have been gelded, too. Then I wouldn’t be fucking missing her so much like I do and wanting her every minute and thinking about her every second.” His voice trailed off. “I guess I just love her, you know man? Not like Tess. It’s totally different with Tylar. You get it don’t you? Yeah, I know you do. I can tell you like Tylar on your back more than you ever liked Tess. It’s the same way with me buddy. I don’t want her riding anyone else, and apparently I can’t be with anyone else since I’ve been with her. It's fucked up, man. It's totally fucked up."

I paused by the door. The conversation from man to horse had stopped. Trey must've passed out. I opened the door and quietly went into the stable. I walked down to Derringer’s stall. Trey was passed out in the straw, his legs outstretched; an almost empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s tipped over in his right hand.

I hurried over to him. I talked to Derringer, patting his hindquarters to move him over towards the other side of the stall. I bent down and looked at my beautiful, passed-out Trey. This was a different Trey; a vulnerable one, not the one I knew. I brushed his hair back from his face, calling his name.

“Trey, it’s me! You need to get up and get out of Derringer’s stall. Can you hear me?” I reached over and shook his broad shoulders with my hand, becoming increasingly alarmed; his head bobbed a couple of times. Finally, I shouted, “Trey!”

His head jerked up; sapphire eyes blinking, he squinted at me. “Tylar?”

“Yeah, it’s me, and I’m here to help you up, okay? You need to get up and out of Derringer’s stall.”

A slow drunken grin crossed his face, his dimple showing. “You…you’re gonna help me up?” he asked, still grinning.

“I will but I need you to help me because I can’t lift you.”

“You won’t have to, baby,” he said. “Because I’m perfectly able to get my drunken ass up and outta here.”

He pulled his leg back and leaned forward to lift himself up. I had him by the shoulder, gripping him as best I could. He lunged forward, and practically fell directly underneath Derringer. He was now in a worse position than before. I had to get someone down here to help me get him up and out of harm’s way.

“Trey,” I said, loudly, “you need to get out from under Derringer, damn it!” He started to move, scooting back toward the side of the stall.

“I’m going to call Mark to come down to help me get you up, okay? I’ll use the phone right over there on the wall. Do not move please.”

In an instant he'd whipped his arm around, grabbing my booted ankle. “No,” he snapped. “I don’t need that son-of-a-bitch to help me up, do you understand?”

He was furious. He reached up, grabbing the side of the stall and hoisted himself up, holding on to my leg with his other hand to steady himself. He stood in front of me, staring with an intensity that I'd never seen before. He flung the Jack Daniel’s bottle into the aisle where it hit a post and shattered. He staggered past me and out of the stall. I hurried behind him, latching the gate on Derringer’s stall. Now it was my turn to be pissed. I followed him down the aisle and into the tack room. “What do you think you were doing out there?” I demanded.

He raked both of his hands through his unruly hair and went to the small refrigerator in the tack room. He retrieved a bottle of water, twisted the top off and took a long drink. He poured some of the water into his hands, cupping it and then splashing it onto his face. He was trying to clear his head, I could tell. Trey didn't like being vulnerable, and the fact that I'd witnessed it would never sit well with him. He shook the droplets of water out of his hair and turned to me, giving me a look that made me feel like my heart was being ripped out.

“What the fuck do you care what
I'm
doing in
my
barn with
my
fucking horse
!” he yelled. “I don’t have to explain anything to you, Tylar. Sorry if I disturbed your rest. Apologize to
Mark
for me when you get back to your bed.”

Oh. Hell. No.

He did
not
just say that to me. I glared at him. He stood there looking at me all cocky, his hands on his slender hips, his five o’clock shadow looking gorgeous, with his now unruly hair. He knew he’d insulted me.

In that instant, all I wanted to do was to wipe that smug look off of his face. Before I had time to think, I raised my hand back and slapped him hard across his cheek with enough force that his head turned with the contact of my hand. I was surprised at my own strength. What was more surprising, though, was that it didn’t faze Trey one bit. He smirked and went right on giving me that same look. In that moment, I felt like a cheap whore. I felt like my mother’s daughter. No one had ever made me feel that way. No one ever could have except for Trey, and he knew that.

I raised my hand back again, with all my strength, bringing it back around to slap his cheek, harder this time. Trey didn’t take his eyes off of mine as he caught my wrist in a vice-like grip, inches from his cheek, and held it.

“Let me go, you drunken bastard!” I screamed, struggling to free my wrist from his strong grip.

“Bitch!” he spat, still not releasing me.

I continued to struggle against him but he was stronger. He yanked my wrist forward, so I was pressed up against him, taking my arm and wrapping it around his neck. His put his other arm on my hip, pressing me against him. His mouth found mine, devouring me with his ardent kiss, his tongue plunging into mine with a vengeance. He had bent my head so far back, I thought I'd snap. I finally pulled my arms back from around his neck and fisted his chest, trying to push him away from me. His kisses turned softer, gentler. He released his firm hold on me, burying his face into my hair, nuzzling my neck, murmuring softly into my ear.

“I want you so bad, baby. I’ve missed you so much.”

I didn’t want to give in. It would serve no purpose. Yet, my body ached for his fulfillment, for our perfect fit and exquisite rhythm. I wanted him to find the sweet spot that we’d discovered together, and to make the magic thing happen that always did when he found it. I returned his kisses passionately. I hated myself in that moment. I wanted him, right or wrong, one last time. I wanted him to fill me again. I needed him inside of me.

He pulled me out into the stable area, grabbing a horse blanket from the rail, throwing it down over the pile of clean straw. In seconds, he was pulling me to him, raising my tee shirt up over my head and tossing it aside, His hands were all over my breasts, massaging them and kissing me passionately. He dropped to his knees, pulling my shorts and panties down to my ankles. I stepped out of them, now dressed only in my boots. He put one of my arms on his shoulder so that I could keep my balance while he removed my boots, tossing them behind him.

Now, fully naked, I stood before him, I started to relax back into the makeshift straw bed, but his strong arm kept me upright. In moments his mouth was on me, every part of me. My body betrayed me with him, just like it always did with him. I had no desire to fight the feelings his touch evoked within me, I wanted the release that I knew he could give me. The sweet release I needed.

“Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want,” he coaxed.

“I want you, Trey.”

He laid me gently onto the makeshift bed of straw, kissing my face and neck while he knelt in front of me and lowered the zipper on his jeans, pulling himself free.

He positioned himself above me, grabbing both of my legs and placing them on his shoulders. He hadn’t taken a stitch of his clothing off.

“Wait,” I gasped, “a condom?”

“Fuck that,” he rasped, guiding himself into me with one swift thrust.

“No—stop,” I insisted, my hands were now pressed against his strong chest, pushing him back. He lowered his lips to my mouth, silencing any further protests. His tongue was ravaging my lips and mouth. I felt his passion and mine mingle in our kiss. He was pleasuring me roughly.

I didn’t care if he was rough. I needed rough right now. I needed to feel every inch of him inside of me. My hands no longer pushed against his chest. They found their way to his ass, gripping each side as he continued to rock in and out of me. It felt so good, so full, and so right. This was my Trey; I loved him no matter what.

I felt the heat at my core, spreading slowly throughout my body, building to a crescendo of peak pleasure with my love. His thrusting increased steadily. I felt tears spring to my eyes at the pure pleasure. This was a first for me, the emotional part of it. I felt that Trey was right there with me, kissing me and holding me. He usually talked to me during this part but perhaps the intensity of this coupling was as new to him as it was to me.