Page 45 of Home to the Hollow

Scenery flies by as I grasp the reins and her mane, gripping her back with my thighs so tightly that I’m certain I’ll be sore as hell later. The excited horse gallops across the fields like she’s racing in her own personal stakes, taking the unfamiliar terrain in stride without batting a lash. I hear Wolfie behind me on Puck, whistling and calling out to her to see if he can get her attention, but it’s to no avail. Now that she has her head, my girl is determined to show what she can do.

I’ll say one thing: this son of a bitching horse is going to earn roses when she’s ready.

That time isn’t now, though, and we’re headed for the fence line at an alarming speed. I need to figure something out, or we’re both going to get injured. I rack my brain, trying to access the part of my memory that’s storing the six weeks Seer and I spent in Dubai. We met our fair share of horse loving princes in the casinos, and if I can just… ah-ha!

“Khalas!” I cry, giving the reins a tug hard enough to get the attention of the speeding equine.

Mehdi’s ears flick, and she slows, dropping to a canter, and then a trot before she comes to a halt mere inches from the inner fences. I blink, sucking in a breath as I look behind me to see Hottie McBabyVet thunder up beside me with wide eyes. I run my hand over the silky mane of the hot-blooded beauty I’m riding to reassure her and slide off. My legs are like jelly, and my hands are shaking with adrenaline as I stumble over to Wolfie with a huge grin on my face.

“Did youseethat? Holy cock-sucking donkey balls, that was amazing!”

He frowns, catching me as my knees crumple, and shooing the horses away so we have room to move. “Sugarplum, we are going to chat about your daredevil ways. You scared the bejesus out of me! I had to leave Arabella to chase you.”

Beaming at him, I feel the air around us shift, and the electricity shoots through my veins, twisting with the high from the breakneck ride. I press my body to his, eyes dancing with mischief as I toss my glasses aside. “Time for that later, little Wolfie.”

His brow arches and he chuckles. “Sugarplum, you can barely stand.”

“We don’t need to stand, darling,” I reply, giving his chest a little push.

That’s all it takes for him to topple us to the ground, his back hitting the bluegrass with a thump as he brings me with him. I tug the shirt off, discarding it as recklessly as I did my sunglasses, and he peels my sports bra off while my arms are up.

“No binding this time?” he smirks. “I think you lured me out here with plans.”

“I sure as fuck did.”

Rolling us over, his hands help me wriggle the tight breeches down while I work the buttons of his jeans. He gets distracted by the jeweled cages on my nipples as they sparkle in the light, and I growl in frustration. I grab his hair and pull his head up, shaking my head. His soft snort makes my lips curl up, and he shucks the jeans like a pro.

“Better, sugarplum?”

“Not yet,” I mutter, wrapping my fist around his cock and stroking. The smooth steel on his shaft slides over my palm, and he groans. “Once you fuck me, I’m sure it will be.”

His lips capture mine, and I let go, allowing him to lift my thighs off the ground. Long fingers grasp my screaming muscles, parting my legs so he can line up with my dripping pussy. When he raises his head, I raise an eyebrow, and he grins at me, placing my ankles on his shoulder.

“Can’t have you doin’ too much work after that ride, love. You won’t be able to walk.”

I open my mouth to sass back, but he drives his dick into me so hard that it feels like he’s going to split me in two. A throaty moan of pleasure escapes instead of bratty sarcasm, and he takes that as his cue to start a punishing rhythm that knocks the breath out of my lungs. His hips crash into me as he does what I asked… fucks the living shit out of me.

Flinging my arms over my head, I close my eyes, letting the sensations course through me as he holds me in place. He doesn’t have control—I do—but I’m enjoying every second of his hard cock spearing me into the soft ground of the field. His hand shifts, one holding on and the other snaking around to find my clit, pinching it every time he buries himself to the hilt.

A shimmering sensation floats over my skin, and the whisper of softness makes every inch of me tingle. My toes curl, my fingers dig into the dirt, and my wail echoes over the quiet field when I come, squeezing him inside as I’m never letting go. His hips stutter as his orgasm rockets through him on the tail of mine, and something feels like it clicks into place.

My eyes open as I pant, my gaze finding his through the haze of my climax, and I could swear his blue eyes are swirling with color. I lift a trembling hand to his face, giving him the closest thing to a smile that I can as I return to reality.

“You, my little wolf, are mine, you know,” I rasp. “I don’t know how you worked your way in, but I don’t think I can ever let you go.”

The smile on his face is as bright as the golden horse I rode here as he leans in and whispers in my ear, “I don’t think we ever had a choice, sugarplum.”

Amen to that.

Lovely

The lovely Miss Whitley comes striding up the steps of the school with her animals in tow like she’s storming the beaches of Normandy. Of course, that’s the imagery I teach in my class, so I watch her. I know she hot-footed it out of here like her ass was on fire this morning, but I think something about the behavior of those harpies in the English department triggered her. She let Boone drag her out, but she was stiff as a board and had all the emotion of a robot as she pretended to joke with him.

I assembled her history here in the file on my desk, but I’m more inclined to figure it out myself. They did not tie my assignment here to her—no one even knew she was coming until the team in Richmond contacted their handler. Now that she’s here, though, they bound all of us to monitor events as they unfold. Mystery surrounds Jolene Athena Whitley, and even the people whoshouldknow aren’t certain what will happen.

Even people like me, and that’s saying something.

Frowning as I watch her take her companions to the play area and give them what looks like a stern talking to, I contemplate what it might mean that I can’t seem to get a good read on this woman. Is it an intervention? Is it a path that cannot diverge? Does it involve me somehow? That explains a complete lack of information where there is always information and shadowing.

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