Again, his expression implies that there’s much more to his comment. He’s speaking of an undercurrent, an undercurrent between us that I can feel as plainly as I could feel the sand sucking at my foot. And, as with the sand, Alec is pulling me down, pulling me under. Under his spell.
I think Chris mutters something, but I can’t tell what it is. Her voice is a thousand miles away.
Alec doesn’t break his stare until we reach his horse. I let my arms fall from around him, preparing for when he sets me on my feet. Only he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls me tight against his chest, puts his foot in the stirrup and swings easily onto the horse’s back.
I used to do some riding when I was younger, before…everything. My mother got me lessons and would take me once a week to ride, so I’m familiar with the close contact saddle that’s on this horse, as well as the type of horse it is—a beautiful paint horse. The rich brown color and large white patches on the sides are dead giveaways.
Because of the low pommel and light padding of the saddle, when Alec scoots back a little, there is just enough room in the saddle for me, too. I can straddle the horse comfortably. Well, comfortably but for the way Alec’s body is pressed up against my back and butt. I feel every firm, warm inch of him all the way to my core.
I’m feeling short of breath again and looking for some distraction. “What’s his name?” I ask, referring to the horse.
“Galen,” he answers. I feel his legs move against me as he nudges the horse into a slow walk.
“That’s beautiful. What does it mean?”
“It means healer,” he explains, urging Galen into a trot.
Without the benefit of a saddle horn to hang on to, I’m forced to reach back and grab Alec’s thighs for support as I grip the horse with my legs. It’s all I can do not to melt into the leather beneath me when Alec bends his head to whisper into my ear, “Hang on. Here we go.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - Alec
I nudge Galen into a gallop on the hard-packed strip of sand on the empty beach. I knew it would be a great day to ride. This isn’t exactly a commercial stretch of oceanfront anyway, what with the lower end belonging to private homes. Now, with Samantha in my lap, it’s even more…stimulating.
I feel her fingers dig into my legs, so I take the reins in one hand and splay the fingers of my other over her flat stomach, pulling her snug against me. It’s an innocent enough gesture, one meant to hold her in place. A safety measure, even. But in reality, it’s far from innocent. With the curve of her ass rubbing my c**k in perfect rhythm with the horse, all I can think about is turning her around, pushing aside the swimsuit bottoms I imagine she’s wearing under her short skirt and sliding her down on top of me. The horse would do most of the work. All she’d have to do is hold on until her body went limp with exhaustion.
Despite the tell-tale twitch of my dick, the voice that was so strong this morning reminds me that I’m not supposed to be pursuing this. I’m supposed to be avoiding this woman. For her sake as much as mine.
But that voice is growing softer by the minute. Before long, I’ll be able to block it out completely, just like I did for all those years before I got it under control.
Once again, my id is becoming bolder.
Just one more time. Just this once.
The lure of it is so tantalizing, the vision of Samantha in my complete control so irresistible, I know the battle is lost. In fact, I think I knew it was lost the moment I saw her on the beach.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - Samantha
Just when I’m catching my breath and becoming accustomed to the sensory overload of being in Alec’s arms with my body pressed to his, he slows Galen and guides him away from the surf. The horse plods through the fluffy sand to what looks like a cleft in a dune. Only it’s not a cleft; it’s a path separating two different separate ones. Between them is a wooden walkway.
The walk looks a mile long as it travels from the sand, across the marsh and onto sturdier land. In the distance, I can see a gorgeous, modern plantation-style home in pale yellow.
From French doors to sunburst windows, the entire back of the house is covered in windows of varying sizes and shapes. It looks like every door opens onto one of three decks off the back of the house, a deck for each level. As extravagant as I’m sure the inside is, I doubt it will compare to the incredible views from the outdoor living space.
My first thought is that it can’t be our destination. There’s no way Alec can have this kind of money. But then I think of the Range Rover and the subtle things I learned at the fundraiser, and I quickly amend that thought.
When we reach the end of the walkway, Alec guides the horse onto a cobblestone path that leads through the lush green yard and stops at the foot of steps that ascend to the first-level deck. When he dismounts and drops Galen’s reins over the newel post, I realize we are, in fact, at our destination.
Alec offers no explanation at all, but simply turns back and reaches for me.
“Slide off. I’ve got you.”
I throw my leg over the horse’s neck and lean forward, putting my hands on his shoulders. I try to ignore the feel of his hands on my hips as he lowers me to the ground. “What about the horse? Can you just leave him out in the sun like this?”
“He’ll be fine for a few minutes. Javi will come and take him back to the stable.”
“You have a stable? How many horses do you have?”
“We have a small stable, yes. Only two horses. We don’t have enough room to board and exercise more than four. But I’m the only one who rides, so it doesn’t really matter.”
Without thinking, I put weight on my left side, yelping when pain shoots up into my knee.
Alec says nothing, merely bends to pick me up. I try not to let his blank expression and tight jaw unnerve me. I remind myself that I didn’t ask for his help, that he practically forced me into this, and that if he’s no longer attracted to me, it’s for the best.
Only it doesn’t feel like it’s for the best. On some level, I want him to be as moved and tortured as I am by the most innocent of contact.
Effortlessly, he climbs the steps then carries me to one of four chaise lounges, all lined up facing the railing, the perfect setup to enjoy the ocean view.
“Is this your house?” I finally ask when he pulls another chaise closer to the one I’m on and sits on the end.
Gingerly, he picks up my foot and examines my ankle. “Do you always ask so many questions?” he murmurs.