“I wish I had Mickey’s power to call on Tommy so he could get me some of that ultra-cool stuff called tape, and then I would tape?—”
“Me to that wall and nail me until I can’t walk?”
“I need tape! Tape, please… anyone.”
Riley laughs until I cram the cinch in his hands.
“Put it on.”
“We could hang this from the ceiling and create a makeshift sex swing with it.”
I freeze. “Tell me more about this… sex swing.”
“I can do better than that. I can take you to my world and we can go get one.”
“Understood,” I say before shaking my head to clear it. “No! You can show me after we prevent the end of the world. Now let’s get this cinch on.”
“I didn’t think I would have to resort to this, but I’ve been given no choice,” Riley declares before pulling his shirt up. In desperation, I grab it, wrapping it over his face before it can go anywhere.
“Quill! Hurry, bring someone else here before I fall prey to this. I am a weak man,” I say.
Quill bounds off while Riley fights against the shirt wrapped around his head.
“Dammit, Torin! We could have so much fun! Why have you chosen to thwart my plans?”
Vero steps in, looks at the two of us, and curses up a storm. “You vile creatures, fornicating where all can see like the world belongs to you.”
I glance at the despicable man. “It… kind ofdoesbelong to me. But I wasn’t disrobing him, no matter how much it seems like I am. I was actually fixing his shirt to prepare him for his first ride, which I think you should witness.”
“I am disgusted by both of you,” Vero says, but he leans against the wall, folds his arms over his chest, and stares at us.
Riley pulls his shirt down, glowers at me—which isjustas sexy—and follows me over to the horse.
“His name is Sigma,” he mutters.
“It is? You heard this in the memory?”
“Yes.”
“Hello, Sigma, you are a very handsome fellow,” I say as I scratch his neck. He pins his ears at me, blatantly wishing to tear my head from my body but holding back because his human tends to like me.
I pull the cinch under once it’s fastened on one side and show Riley how to loop the girth on this particular saddle. It’s one I’ve had for nearly six hundred years, but it’s in pristine shape and fits him perfectly.
“You sure I’m fine riding in this saddle? It looks like it costs quite a bit.”
“It’s made from the leather of an extinct species,” I say.
“You sound really proud, but I just find it concerning because it’s going to get scratched up when the horse scrapes me off on a tree.”
“We didn’t kill it for its leather. This one was already dead,” I assure him, but I feel pretty confident that wasn’t his concern.
“I see,” he says while he studies the gems and inlays. I think he’s decided to just stare at things for the next forty-eight hours since we’re getting closer to the riding part.
“I don’t know how you convey to your horse how to move or turn, so we’ll simply slide a halter on him and hook some reins to it. Halters are generally for leading and they don’t have bits, but I’m not sure whether he works off legs, voice, or just your thoughts. I have no damn idea. I just feel like stuffing a bit in his mouth isn’t needed, but who knows.”
“This is going to be fun,” Vero comments, obviously here for the entertainment.
“Now let me help you on,” I say as I examine Sigma.
