Authors: Isadora Montrose
Tags: #General Fiction
“Why are you torturing me?” But there was laughter in her strained voice.
“If a thing’s worth doing, it’s worth doing well. You let me have my fun, sweetheart.”
They were both damp and incoherent when he had finished his excruciating inspection of her upper body. He stepped back to admire the scrap of blue lace and satin she was harnessing her rack with. When he peeled it off her swollen girls, the design was faintly imprinted on her dewy skin and the sensitive nipples were chafed red.
He had to kiss them better and slick them down and dry them with his palms. By the time he finally took one into his mouth and sucked she was chanting his name and trying to snatch him bald. He bit lightly and attended to the other side. Her squirming became a trembling stiffness. He supported her quivering body with hands at her waist and ravished her nipple.
She shrieked and splintered. Her whole body went limp. If he hadn’t picked her up she would have fallen. He laid her on the bed still in her jeans and fancy shoes.
“No stamina,” he chided as he admired the way her boobies slid sideways and flattened. She tried to cover them but he held her hands away. “Pure loveliness,” he assured her.
She bit her lip and blushed. He bent, kissed her mouth and then just brushed her flushed and mottled breasts with his lips. “Um,” he said. “Well, now, we’ll have to build up your endurance. I do believe you’re done in, already.”
He couldn’t make out her embarrassed mumble. “I think I have to head home, sweetheart. Tomorrow is a working day.”
“But what about you?” Her face was definitely crimson now.
Steve chuckled. He put her hand on the large wet patch on the front of his jeans. “My dearest tease, I shot my load when you lost control.” He gave her a last hard kiss. “Better hope I don’t meet your daddy on my way home.”
* * *
He had done it again. Steve had brought her to the brink and watched her fall over, but had pulled back before actually having sex with her. How could he make her feel this good and not want to consummate their relationship? While he had been making her dizzy with desire, she noticed that he hadn’t so much as pulled his shirt out of his pants. But now that he had gone, and the sated exhaustion of her climax had passed, she was all too aware that they hadn’t made it to the bed.
On the other hand, he had come in his jeans. The thought of big, tough Steve Holden losing control from just petting her breasts made her feel powerful. Until she remembered that he had left her to sleep alone in her bed. She got up from her bed and tottered into the bathroom to clean up. Her panties were soaked and her jeans were damp. She couldn’t remember a time when she had come with so much force.
Her mirror told her why Steve had left. She was a great lump. Big tits that hung like giant pears, broad hips, a wide ass, thick thighs. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to remove all her clothes. And yet he had made her feel unbelievably sexy while he was stroking her breasts. She twisted and turned before the mirror. She didn’t have a mark on her, but she felt branded by his mouth and fingers.
She woke feeling as if she had just failed to recall something important. For the first time in her career as a horse breeder she thought about wearing a fancy bra to work. Fortunately, she came to her senses. Blue lace and under wire were strictly for show. She needed something a lot less constraining if she had to ride or throw hay.
* * *
Steve was busy in a foaling box. Misty was standing on her spotless mat trying to nibble his ear while he brushed her shining coat. He winked at her and wished her a good morning.
Laura scratched Misty’s muzzle and fed her a treat. “Almost time, girl,” she whispered to the swiveling ears. “I thought for sure she’d drop last night,” she said to Steve.
“Dusty called the Doc, and he checked her out first thing this morning. He thinks she’s ripe, but he’s betting she’ll wait until tonight.” He took a comb out of the tool kit at his waist and ran it through Misty’s long tail. It had been trimmed in advance of her delivery, but it still needed daily grooming.
“I’m going out on Dakota today. I have to check on the south pastures. But I’ll be back for evening stables,” she said.
“Shall I saddle him up for you?” he asked.
“I saddle my own horse,” she said firmly. “Stable rules.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said grinning. “I’ll bear that in mind.”
Lance Prescott was still fussing with Dakota when Laura walked down Lane Three. The stable hand had started working on the ranch four or five years back, but she had poached him for the stud because of his affinity for horses. She was hoping he would fill Carlos’s shoes when her foreman retired.
“Hey, Miss Laura,” he said, stepping back so she could admire Dakota’s sleek red coat and white socks.
“How’s it going, Lance?” She put a hand on Dakota’s neck. The peacefulness of being with her gelding suffused her whole body. Dakota loved her with his whole being. They were a team and had been from the moment he had been born into her hands.
“Just fine, Miss Laura,” Lance answered automatically. He turned so he could see her with his good eye. An improvised explosive device had ripped a hole in his face in Iraq, and left him scarred and legally blind in one eye. In the dusty stables, he covered his weak eye with a black patch. “He’s raring to go. You’d think he hadn’t left the stable in a week.”
“We only had a turn around the paddock yesterday,” Laura said. “I’ll saddle him up if you’re done.”
“Just about. But I think you should look at Cloud, before you go out. She was a bit lame this morning. I found a stone. But she was still favoring that front leg after I removed it.” Lance produced a jagged bit of rock and a twist of paper that he unfolded. “These were in her tail.” He held out the paper with two sticker burrs covered in inch long thorns.
Laura picked the prickly and dangerous seed pods up in her gloved fingers. “Sticker burrs? At this time of year?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lance said. “I got the baby oil and took ‘em out nice and slow. But beats me where they came from.”
“Who groomed her last night?” Laura asked.
“That’s the thing of it,” Lance gave Dakota one last stroke with the slicker brush. “I’ll be back,” He said following Laura to Cloud’s stall. “Mr. D. turned her out himself after he finished her training.”
“That’s right.” Laura frowned. “I don’t believe that Carlos Diego missed a stone in a shoe. Let alone two sticker burrs in a tail.”
“Cloud’s tail looked like it had been combed out the night before, except for where those two burrs were lodged,” Lance said. “I thought it was funny. But the more I think about it, funnier it gets. Funny peculiar. Not funny ha ha.”
“I know.” Laura took another look at the sharp little stone. The edges seemed freshly broken. Not like a stone that had been buried in the dirt of the paddock, or on the drive and stepped on accidentally by a horse. But clean and bright as if recently shattered by a hammer.
“Lance,” she said softly. “Would you get Carlos for me, please? Right now.”
“Sure thing.” Prescott strode off.
Steve found her in Cloud’s stall still frowning down at her palm. “Hey,” he said. “I thought you were going riding?”
“What do you make of this?” She showed him the stone.
Steve picked it up from her hand and held it to the light. He pulled out a little flashlight from his kit. A strong LED beam illuminated the shard of granite. “Whose blood?” he asked.
“There’s blood on it?” she asked sharply.
“I’d guess these specks of brown are blood rather than dirt,” he said. “Dirt around here is either yellow or black. This is reddish brown. Where’d you get it?”
“Lance found it in Cloud’s hoof.”
“No, he did not.” Steve said flatly. He moved into the stall and clucked at the mare. She greeted him like an old friend and moved sideways for him. Sure enough, she was favoring her right front leg. Steve felt all the way down the hock to the hoof and used his pencil light on the underside. The frog was slightly swollen and a little hot. So was the hoof.
“She’s had something in there all right,” he said slowly. “But there is no way that Mr. D rode her in front of me all the way from the corrals with that stone. Not without me noticing. And not without him picking up that she’d stepped on something nasty.”
“We’re agreed on that,” Laura returned. “Carlos taught me to take care of my horse. And rule one is to check hooves before and after a ride. He would no more put a horse to bed with a stone than he would forget to comb her tail.” She showed him the burrs.
“Nasty. Last year’s too. Where’d she get them from?” Steve asked.
“I do not know. But we’ve not had a problem with our hay. It’s home grown, and we spray for these. They’re too dangerous to let them grow in the silage.”
Carlos and Lance came down the aisle. “Let me see,” Carlos held out his hand. Steve dropped the stone chip and the burrs into his hand. “Nasty,” Carlos said. He nudged the stone with a dubious forefinger. “How’s my girl?”
“Bit lame,” Laura said. “Her frog is hot – it might be infection or just irritation.”
“Lance found the burrs in her tail?” Carlos checked.
“Yes, sir, I did,” the veteran admitted.
Carlos’ black eyes were riveted on Laura’s. She shook her head. “Since you didn’t overlook a stone and two burrs, Carlos,” she reassured the foreman, “This was deliberate. Who would play a vile trick like this on a horse?”
“I’ll tell you, just as soon as I review the security footage,” Steve said. His voice made the hairs on her neck stand up.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“If this equipment wasn’t out of the ark, you’d be able to tell who that was going into Cloud’s stall at twenty-two hundred seventeen,” Steve reported to Carlos and Laura.
The three of them were gathered in Laura’s office, looking down at the screen of his Mac which he had retrieved from his cabin. A fuzzy gray figure, presumably a man, wandered the dim aisles of the stable, his back to the camera.
“I’ve enhanced it as much as possible,” Steve explained. “And this is about as good as I can get it. But while you can see it’s a guy in a hoodie, I can’t tell who.” He stopped the video and showed them a still frame. “See how tall he is? He comes up to here on the post of Lane Two. So we know he’s taller than Mr. D. but shorter than me or Lance.”
“I can’t fire every hand who is taller than me and shorter than you,” grumbled Carlos. “Surely there must be a picture with his face?”
“Nope, our man knew exactly where the cameras are and kept his face turned away.” He paused the footage and advanced it frame by frame. “You can see him swivel to avoid the camera at the top of Lane One. But everything is so grainy, I can’t even tell if he’s broad or narrow, not really. Just that he went into Cloud’s stall and came out three minutes and twenty-seven seconds later.”
“And we know Scout didn’t object to this guy,” Laura reflected. “Otherwise she’d have woken Darrel by barking.”
“Hmph,” snorted Carlos. “Scout’s a big old softie.” His voice hardened.” So you just happened to have fancy software to enhance digital footage, Holden?”
“Not just,” Steve’s voice was mild. “In my other life, I do security. This isn’t the best software available. It’s just what I had loaded to my notebook. I can send the footage to be examined by experts, but I wouldn’t do it without your say so.”
“You trying to drum up business, boy?” snapped Carlos.
“No, sir.” Steve stood up straight. “Not that you couldn’t use some advice. But Sarkan Security Systems doesn’t usually work with agricultural clients.”
Carlos narrowed his eyes, and for all the older man was a foot shorter than Steve he looked formidable. “Your other job?” he said testily. “I thought you were fixed here?”
Steve picked up Laura’s hand and kissed it. “Miss Laura wants to make an honest man of me, so likely I’ll be underfoot more than you’ll like.”
Laura glared at him and tried to tug her hand out of his. Steve smiled down into her blue eyes and kept possession of her fingers. “We had to tell Mr. D. sometime, honey. When we get married, everyone will know.”
“Nothing is agreed, yet,” she said between her teeth.
“It’s okay,” Steve ignored the storm gathering in his beloved’s face. “I’ve asked your daddy for your hand, and he didn’t say ‘No’, so I’m keeping it.”
Carlos was grinning. “Well, now,” he said heartily. “This is good news.” He started to hold out a hand to Steve, saw that he was using his to hang on to Laura, and settled for clapping him on the shoulder. He kissed Laura’s cheek. “You’ve picked yourself a good man,” he said. “Rosa will be pleased.”
“We have to go see my lawyer first,” Laura said through her teeth.
Steve figured he’d pressed his luck far enough. In about a second, Laura was going to slug him with her free hand. He kissed her knuckles and let go. “Fair enough,” he conceded. “We need to get you a ring, anyway.”
Carlos choked. “Yeah. So you want to send this footage to that outfit you’re leaving?”
“I do. But I also want to install some better cameras and lose those antique monitors. They should have been retired years ago.”
“We’ve never had a problem before,” Laura defended herself. “Upgrading seemed like an unnecessary expense.”
“And now you’ve got a big problem, and they’re useless,” Steve said calmly. “First it was the barn roof, now this business with Cloud. Who knows what we’ll find next.”
“What would that upgrade cost?” asked Laura suspiciously.
“The equipment will be about ten or twelve grand,” Steve told her. “I’ll install them myself, which my salary already covers. And I’ll waive the consultation fee. Think of it as an engagement present.”
Carlos scratched his chin. “Think we’ll catch that vicious SOB?”
“If he comes back. I intend to make sure that no one but us knows that we’ve upgraded security. I’ll leave the existing setup in place. And if we can keep the new equipment a secret between the three of us, if he gets up to more mischief, we’ll catch him red-handed.”
“What do you mean, mischief?” snapped Laura. “This is much worse than that.”
“Criminal mischief,” Steve agreed calmly. “But I think this was all about making Carlos look sloppy.” He turned to the foreman. “Who wants your job?”