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“If the horse is ready, I am,” she murmured suggestively as she slid her hand down his body, but swiftly grabbing both her wrists, he pinned them above her head.
“Ellie, I’m guessin’ your ass is a little sore. If you’d like it to be hot and stingin’ I’m happy to oblige.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she purred, fixing him with a challenging gaze.
“Sure you do, and since you wanna play…”
Bolting upright, he jerked her over his lap and began slapping her backside, moving his hand from cheek to cheek in a quick, steady rhythm.
“Ow, Noah, stop, okay, I get it,” she yelped, squirming as he spanked.
“You get what?” he demanded, continuing to rain the hot smacks.
“What you’ll do I push the envelope!”
“Exactly,” he declared, rubbing her red skin. “I’m glad we had this little talk. Now we understand each other.”
“Talk? You call that a talk?” she retorted, staring at him over her shoulder.
“Should I continue?”
“No, no.”
“Conversations come in many forms, darlin’. Now you’ll be sittin’ in the saddle with a sore butt, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll do as I say.”
“Of course I will.”
Throwing back his head, he laughed out loud.
“What’s so funny?”
“I already know you pretty much do what you want,” he replied, helping her up, “and that’s okay, but when you’re around horses you need to do as I say. There are rules to keep you safe.”
“Okay,” she mumbled, then letting out a sigh, she leaned against his chest. “Will you hold me for a minute?”
“I was just about to,” he said softly, moving his arms around her. “Tell me, Ellie, how are things at home?”
“Where do I start?” she said with a groan. “The general answer is weird. Really weird, but I managed to record those creepy sounds. Would you listen to them? They’re on my phone in my bag. I dropped it in the living room.”
“I’ll fetch it for you,” he offered, slipping from the bed.
* * *
As she watched Noah pull his T-shirt over his head and stride from the room, Ellie let out a heavy, relieved breath. She finally had someone on her side. Someone who could offer theories and make suggestions about the odd happenings at her house.
“Here you go,” he declared, returning with her large tote and climbing back on the bed.
Lifting out her phone and starting the playback, together they listened to the strange thumping noises.
“It sounds like someone hammering,” she remarked.
“One thing’s for sure, you’re not dreamin’, and that’s no animal.”
“Then it has to be The Bitch From Hell. There’s no-one else around, which brings me to what she did last night.”
“Which was?”
“She knocked on my door with a mug of cocoa and a cake from Matilda’s Munchies. I was shocked.”
