“Does it turn you on?” I ask, tilting her chin up so I can kiss her.
“Caine,” she says, her voice deep before I kiss her.
Hard, deep, and fast. I take her mouth and devour her. The moment I feel her respond, I pull back and spank her again.
“What is the matter with you?” she chastises.
“Get on the horse, Mikayla!” I demand instead of explaining.
Obviously, this isn’t a teaching technique I’ve ever tried before, but distraction from her fear is what I’m aiming for.
“She won’t lift her legs?” Mikayla asks.
“Wind-Song wasn’t trained for bronc riding, Mikayla. He won’t buck on you, I promise,” I assure her. “He’s a middle-aged man,” I add.
Mikayla takes in a deep breath, places her foot in the stirrup and mounts the horse perfectly. I place a hand on her thigh and smile up at her.
“I could get used to being taller than you,” she says with a grin.
“I’m sure,” I say with a smile. “Now get down.”
“What! I just got on him,” Mikayla says with a frown. “Do you have any idea how much courage it took for me to get up here? And now you want me to get down?”
“Yep,” I say, patting her thigh. “I’m not gonna be lifting you up and down for the restof your life. You need to learn how to do this yourself. Now, put your right foot in the stirrup, lift your left leg and dismount,” I instruct.
“You suck,” she mutters under her breath as she easily dismounts. “Tada!” she says when her feet are on the tree stump, showing me jazz hands, sticking her butt out.
“Now get back on.”
“I think you just want to see if I’ll do whatever you tell me to do.” I see her roll her eyes. But this time, she easily mounts the horse.
“Grab the reins with your right hand, leave ‘em slack. Squeeze your thighs together, push your calves into him lightly and tighten your core,” I instruct.
Wind-Song begins to walk slowly. I stand to the side and watch.
Mikayla turns around in a panic, pulling the reins and Wind-Song stops.
“You can’t seriously just stand there and let me go!” Mikayla yells, wide eyes full of fear.
“Mikayla, you aren’t riding a bike; your balance is fine. He’s walking. Stop being a baby and go for a walk. Steer him with the reins. I promise, it’s easy. Want to go left, move them left; right, move them right.”
“Fine. If I die, I’m coming back to haunt you.”
“Be mindful and don’t joke about that! I don’t find it funny!” I snap.
I don’t know why, but my reaction came out of nowhere. That was not funny! Her smile falters, and she looks at me with a slight tilt to her head. Her beautiful, perfect head! Her joke hit me wrong.
“Sorry, I just…” I trail off because I don’t know what to say.
“I was kidding,” she says. “Well, sort of! But you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Then I watch her ride off.
Once I have everything packed away, I drop the basket on the ground and look over and see Mikayla leaning forward, patting Wind-Song on the neck. I can see she’s talking to the horse, but I don’t read lips. I smile because she doesn’t look scared at all. In fact, Mikayla looks happy.
“We need to head back and shower,” I tell her when she’s close enough to hear me.
I see she’s more confident because she gives the horse a little something and he picks up his pace. Mikayla bounces a bit as Wind-Song moves into a trot.
“Your bronc awaits,” Mikayla says when she stops.
