Tethered (The Stables Trilogy #2) (7 page)

The release had been so large, so good, that for the first time in awhile, Maple actually felt sated. There was the languid glow in her limbs that had been missing from each of her frantic masturbation sessions.

It was the feeling of being well-used. Her pussy was still swollen and sensitive from it, a delightful contrast to the stinging slashes that pulsed on her flesh.

It was hard not to hope.

It was too dangerous for her to hope.

Chapter Seven

“I brought dinner, Belleza.” Raúl’s announcement was met with the growling of Maple’s stomach.

Work had taken twice as long that day due to her tender backside. The jeans she worked in had rubbed in the most uncomfortable ways, slowing her down and forcing her to take breaks. She threw Raúl a huge, grateful smile.

“Oh God, you know just what to say to a girl.”

His smile was half-hearted. “Sure.” But he pulled a spare blanket from the stack they kept for the horses and quickly set them up a picnic. Maple eyed it suspiciously, but Raúl shook his head. “No tricks here. Tim’s been having trouble with the wife, so he’s been yakking my ear off all day. Jones is gone, and Mariela is in a mood.”

They washed their hands with the hose, each holding it for the other.

Maple sat down and started fixing a plate. There was still steam wafting from the uncovered dishes. “So what you’re saying is, I’m your last choice for company?”

This got a laugh. “No, of course not! But I did need to escape the house, and you were the perfect inspiration.”

Dinner was tacos. Of course, because it was Mariela, they weren’t just tacos. They were
tacos.
Corn tortillas that had been grilled. And because they were nearing the end of the steer J.B. had given them, Mariela was concocting adventurous meals. These were
Tacos de Lingua
. Tongue. The tongue had been sliced thin and browned to perfection. Topped with queso fresco, salsa verde, and guacamole, they were beautiful.

Maple was hesitant. She appreciated the “use all of the animal” philosophy. It was less wasteful, for sure. But she’d also seen the tongue in its pre-cooked form. Large, thick, and carefully moving grass and cud around in a cow’s mouth.

“Just eat it, Belleza.”

Not wanting to look stupid in front of Raúl, she took a hesitant bite.

The tongue melted in her mouth. It was a surprisingly soft cut of meat, despite the obvious muscled quality of it. That was probably due to Mariela’s genius touch. The char from the saute pan and the fat it was cooked in added the crunch to balance the palatable juiciness of the meat.

“This is so freaking good,” she sighed as she took an enormous bite. When the taco was gone, she licked her fingers before going to make another.

“You should never doubt Mariela.”

He was right. Feeling better with food in her, Maple remembered why it had taken so long for her to finish. Though it had turned out surprisingly well for her, there was still the matter of J.B. discovering that she’d groomed Bane.

“And never disobey J.B., right?” She probed.

He was suddenly very invested in his food.

“Why’d you tell him?”

“Why did you groom Bane?” He snapped back. “After he almost killed you, too!”

“A rattlesnake almost killed me, Raúl. Not Bane.”

Raúl put his plate down, disgusted. “Why can’t you just do what he says?”

“Because in this case, well, I think J.B. is wrong.”

His hands ran through his hair, tugging it hard. “It doesn’t matter what you think! He owns this ranch. He owns Bane.”

Somewhere in her, she understood what Raúl was saying. And knowing that he’d been saved by J.B. and his father probably inspired the loyalty he was showing. It was admirable. But there was something else there. “He doesn’t own us, Raúl.”

This earned her a glare. “Don’t even say that shit, Maple.”

Neither spoke. Maple didn’t say what she wanted. That she wished J.B. would own her. She could picture herself as his prize pony. Working for him during the day and under his harsh hand at night. Yet even if he owned her in the primal way she wanted, she’d still feel as she did for Bane.

Raúl relented first, unable to bear quiet for long. “It’s still light outside, want to go for a ride?”

Not really. The thought of sitting in a saddle with my tanned backside sounds like torture.
Maple was a people pleaser, though, and she needed to mend this with Raúl. Especially with her relationship to J.B. in limbo, she wanted a friend.

“Sure, but I’m tired, so I’ll probably take Bonnie, and we’ll make it slow?”

Raúl shrugged and went to saddle Justice. In Bonnie’s stall, the gentle horse was nosing her feedbag. “Shhh,” Maple whispered as she came in. “Feel like getting out, Bonnie? Stretching your legs?”

Her hand stroked the horse’s neck and flank, soothing and guiding her out. Maple grabbed the saddle and placed it on Bonnie’s back. Her fingers flew effortlessly as she hooked and belted all of the straps. The ease of it reminded her of J.B. as he’d dressed Leslie that first night in the other stable.

That night, Maple had been certain J.B. was keeping women captive and hurting them. As he’d convinced her otherwise, he’d also shown her how he dressed them. It had been quick, something he’d obviously done hundreds of times before.

Suppressing the memory, Maple double checked to make sure Bonnie was well padded and the saddle secure. Her favorite horse deserved her undivided attention.

Leading her out, she and Raúl hopped up and set off at a mild gate. Justice tossed his head a few times, obviously eager to move quicker. As soon as Raúl clucked, though, he settled more comfortably into the easy pace.

It was dusk. Still early, really. Winter was coming to a close on the ranch, and the days were getting longer. Maple could see her breath in the air, the crispness of the night making her shiver. She leaned down and pressed a cheek to Bonnie’s warm neck. The smell of horse was like heaven.

Raúl cut a dashing figure, his dark silhouette cast against a bruised sky. Not for the first time, Maple wished she were different. She wished that she could fall for someone like Raúl. Her riding partner would never beat her and then make her come so hard it was difficult to walk afterward. He wouldn’t send mixed messages.

Despite the soft pace, riding was quickly becoming a strain on Maple. Her legs stretched open over the saddle pulled the denim of her jeans taut. The friction of moving up and down as they plodded along was excruciating.

Pinpricks dotted her vision, her ass hurt so much. Finally, she knew she needed to call it. “Hey, I’m feeling beat-- think we could turn back?”

They hadn’t gone for much of a ride, and she expected Raúl to protest in his friendly way, but he just nodded and wheeled Justice around. As they rode back, Maple needed something to distract her from the pain.

“So, do you plan on working for J.B. forever?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I mean, without proper documentation or citizenship, there isn’t much else I can do.”

Below her, Bonnie’s breathing was a little erratic. Maple stroked the horse and slowed them more. It wasn’t hard to remember that she was old, but Maple was surprised Bonnie was struggling after so short a ride. “What would you do if you had citizenship?”

His laugh cut through the quickly descending night. “Probably ranch, Belleza. But I’d want to own my own, you know? I like this life, but I have no way to move up and out. It’s J.B. or Mexico, and I don’t know anyone there. When my parents died, they took our family connections with them.”

While he said it in a lighthearted way, it still hurt Maple. She hated that he was tied to Deyton Ranch. It was a good place to work, of course. The meals were regular and filling, the accommodations comfortable. But she shouldn’t have worried about the women in the stable; they weren’t the captives.

Raúl and Mariela were. Trapped here, shackled by forces they couldn’t have altered if they’d tried.

Not knowing what to say, she opted for a simple “I’m sorry.”

Raúl hopped off Justice and ran inside to turn on the lights to the stable. “I’ll get him ready,” he offered, leading the horse to his stall. She got the impression he didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

As she swung down and off Bonnie, she felt the horse falter a bit. Gripping the reins and placing a steadying hand on her flank, Maple bit her lip.

“Are you okay, girl? Feeling a little under the weather? Let’s go get some carrots.” Leading slowly, she guided the horse into the stall. Bonnie’s flank clipped the door on her way in, causing Maple to gasp. The distress of Bonnie’s stumble erased any attention Maple had been paying to her own pain.

“Everything all right?” Raúl came in behind.

Maple started brushing her down. “No, I think maybe she’s sick. Will you grab some carrots?”

She worked carefully, pouring as much love as she could into caring for the horse. Raúl came back and offered a carrot while Maple grabbed a clean blanket to ward off the chill of the night. When there was nothing left to do for Bonnie, Maple kissed her nose and walked out.

It was then that the radiating heat from her ass demanded attention. Raúl sucked in his breath.

“What the hell is wrong with your ass?”

She whipped to look at him, eyes large. “Excuse me?”

“Your ass and thighs, Maple. They’re bleeding.”

Awkwardly kicking a leg back and straining to look over a shoulder, Maple saw that he was right. Riding must have opened some of the welts. Now thin trails of blood crisscrossed her jeans. “It’s fine. I just need a shower.” Her cheeks burned and she tried to walk away.

Raúl caught her wrist and stopped her. “No. If your cuts are open, we need to treat them.”

Maple’s eyelids fluttered as she tried to see if she had heard right. He wasn’t shocked? Going to ask questions? Did he just want to look at her ass?

“It’s okay. Really. There’s no need.”

“Stop arguing and come with me to my room. I have some ointment.”

He began to lead her away, tugging at her hand. Maple tripped on her boots. She shook her wrist, trying to free herself. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea--”

He whipped around and stared at her. Raúl’s eyes were black and hard. “For the love of God, Maple, I’m not trying to hit on you! You’ve made it abundantly clear that isn’t happening! Just come and let me clean your cuts before you get an infection. Do you
want
an infection in your ass?”

Well, when you put it that way.

Obediently she followed. Besides, she really did hurt, and if he had something that could help, she wanted it. Maple was curious to see Raúl’s room, too.

It was on the other side of the house, far from her own room. The small cottage wasn’t attached, standing just to the side of the large main house. It was simple, the same kind of straight ranch-style lines as the main house, with a door and windows on the front.

Inside was a small apartment. “I share it with Mariela. She’ll still be cleaning up, though. This way.”

Inside his room, she was delighted to find a pretty typically male setup. Posters of soccer players. A computer that she knew he barely had time to be on. His bed wasn’t made, the sheets twisted. Piles of clothing that she dodged as she stepped in behind him.

It was comfortable and sweet.

“Take your pants off and lie face down on the bed,” Raúl ordered, grabbing a bag off of a bookshelf.

Maple’s cheeks ignited at that. “Uh--”

When he speared her with an angry gaze, though, she did as he said. Laying her cheek on the cotton, she caught a heady whiff of male from the sheets. It smelled like deodorant and soap. The air felt good on the weeping cuts.

“This is going to sting. A lot.”

“Go for it.” She pressed her face into the mattress. The last time Raúl had treated her wounds, it had made Maple hot enough to let him make out with her. That had been some small cuts on her hand. This was enormous welts on her backside. Enormous and
obvious.