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June ripped her arm away. “Oh my god,” she hissed. “I am not going to tell you that!”
“Oh. My. God. You did!” Mandy nearly cartwheeled for joy. Jaz clapped her hands in glee. June was just thankful Brock was off to the side, talking with the staff and owners and that he couldn’t hear them at the moment. At least, she hoped not.
June dipped her head, hiding her scarlet face. All those places that she didn’t want to feel anything in were turning on big time. She was pretty sure that if she did an inspection, her nipples would be hard under her jacket and her panties were probably some degree of soaked.
“Stop,” she pled. “Just- stop. I can’t do this while I’m trying to concentrate on not getting bucked off by that massive animal. I can’t believe I have to ride it by myself. I know I’m going to die. We’re probably all going to die. So please, just stop asking me if I slept with him last night. Because I’ll tell you that I did. Okay? Are you happy now? I’ll also tell you that I can’t remember anything. So sorry. Sue me.”
Mandy clasped June’s hand. She looked way, way too excited. “First of all, we’re not going to die. Those horses are tame. They’ve probably been on hundreds of rides. They wouldn’t put us on a bucking bronco and let it take off kicking and bucking until we’re dragged halfway across the desert with our necks broken. That would just be bad for business.”
June sighed. “What’s the second point?”
“My second point?”
“Well you said first of all. I want to know what comes second.”
“Oh.” Mandy actually blushed. She never blushed. June gaped at her friend. She knew it was bad. Somehow, in just an hour, Brock had managed to charm the pants of both of her friends. Just by existing. Just by offering horses. He’d hardly said a word on the drive. He didn’t need to. Jaz and Mandy bubbled happy nonsense the whole way. June was content to let them since it meant she didn’t have to do anything to try and fill up the silence.
“Spit it out,” June urged, though she didn’t want to hear it at all. Jaz hung on their every word beside them.
“I was going to say,” Mandy confessed, somewhat reluctantly, “that you shouldn’t worry about not remembering sleeping with him. I’m sure you’ll get another chance.”
“Oh. My. God.” June took off, leaving her friends tittering behind her. She stalked over to the fence and forced a smile at the staff. “Which horse is mine? I can’t wait to get started.”
An older, fit looking woman who had kind eyes even if she was a bit leathery from hours spent out in the sun, indicated a tall black horse that looked absolutely fearsome. June nearly groaned. She’d hoped that beast was for Brock. He was big enough to break a horse’s back and that black beast was a monster.
“I’m Sally. We just have a few basic safety rules and commands to go over and then we’ll get you all up and head out. Don’t worry. You’ll have a member of the staff riding right beside you the entire time. If you forget your commands, don’t panic. You can ask one of us.” She winked. “We have our horses well trained so even if you totally drew a blank and you were out there on your own, they’d just walk the trail and come right back here.”
June repressed a fearful shudder. She ignored it when Brock shot her a grin guaranteed to melt her damn panties clear off. She gave Sally her undivided attention, suddenly enthralled about horse commands and helmets.
After a few minutes, Mandy and Jaz were mounted up on their horses. A staff member led them to the far side of the corral or pen or whatever it was, to wait.
Sally turned to Brock, indicating the equally impressive brown horse that was his. He grabbed the part of the saddle they’d been shown, without the aid of the stair thing that Mandy and Jaz used, and pulled himself up onto the horse.
June gulped. She tried hard not to replay that picture in her mind of Brock’s jeans flexing over a far too tight, far too beautiful, ass. She shut her eyes for a second, but the image remained burned into her brain. Jaz and Mandy’s words about licking him flooded back to her. What is wrong with me that I’m standing here, imaging myself running my tongue over his naked butt cheek? It was all her friend’s faults. They’d planted that image in her brain. And Brock’s for wearing those perfectly faded, perfectly tight jeans on his perfectly perfect hind end.
“June… June.”
She realized someone was saying her name and snapped out of it. Sally’s face swam into view. She smiled as she indicated the black devil she was about to mount up on. He looked nothing like the pale grey horse Jaz got or the sweet little dappled grey and white mare that Mandy had.
