Saddled (The Stables Trilogy #3) (11 page)

“Of course. It wasn’t easy, you know.” Maple turned at the drop in his voice, her eyebrow raised. Reece reached out and tucked an errant strand of her hair behind an ear. She shivered at his touch and heard his sharp intake of breath. “Jesus,” he moaned. “You truly are perfection. I thought I’d paint for J.B., to prove to him that he’s a stubborn mule.” He stepped away from her, his hand falling. “But I finished it for you. You are so exquisitely tortured, Maple. I promise you, if J.B. can’t see it… I do. I do, and I’ll be here for you.”

She smiled softly and stamped. It surprised her to discover a small amount of pity for Reece. The painting spoke, ever so gently, of coveted longing. She knew too well what it was to love someone and never know if they’d offer love in return.

There was a small amount of time and, having already bent the rules, Maple anchored herself to bend them some more.

Now she had people to protect. Not just J.B., but Reece, and Raúl, and everyone at the ranch. Something about Brie’s tenacious cruelty and sneaking out felt too close to a threat. Not just to her, personally. Maple was certain Brie was trying to hurt J.B. and she wouldn’t let that happen.

She jotted another hurried message on the pad.
What did Brie say to you?

Reece frowned. “Maple, this is a dangerous game you’re playing. Besides, you know ponies don’t speak.”

I don’t play games, Reece. Not with this much on the line. And I KNOW she spoke to you.

He smirked, but his eyes remained troubled. “She got on her hands and knees to suck me off.”

Did you let her?

“Does it matter?”

Maple made a face at him, furious. How did nobody see how treacherous Brie was? But he was right, that part didn’t really matter. Besides, it irritated her how delighted Reece seemed to be at her seeming jealousy.

She rolled her eyes.
Did she SAY anything?

“She asked a bunch of questions about J.B.” He frowned. “Not much unlike you. Why?”

Maple chewed her lip.
I get a bad feeling about her.
She debated telling him about the late night escape and phone call, but Reece, while a friend, was still Reece. He liked to stir the pot just because he could. Maple didn’t trust him not to run to J.B., and she still had no proof. This was a card she needed to keep close the her chest.

He shook his head. “You don’t seem the jealous type.” It was sweet and completely untrue. She was definitely the jealous type. It had almost killed her when working in the stables to see J.B. nurture and train the other girls. With Brie, though? Not the case. “You don’t have to worry about her. J.B. might see a lot of Rachel in her, but I doubt he’s harboring anything more than a painful crush.”

Maple knew he was trying to make her feel better. Each word, though, was a blow to the gut, leaving her choked and breathless. A crush? J.B. had obviously spoken to Reece about Brie, too, which hurt more than anything else.

Dashing the tears from her eyes before they fell, she gave Reece a smile and a quick nuzzle. He was trying to help, in his own way. It wasn’t his fault that he’d just made everything feel so much worse.

He sensed it, though, and patted her hair. “Hey, stable girl, chin up. He’s been calling around. Asking about your asshole ex and that guy, Gus. He wouldn’t be following up on them if he didn’t care.”

Maple’s heart froze and her eyebrows pressed tight together. Why was J.B. looking into Tony? More importantly, Maple worried, what would he find out? Tony had joked about how she’d been used in the past by him in front of J.B., but there hadn’t been any specifics.

There was a knock, and then J.B. let himself in. Maple trotted to him before he could see her painting, allowing Reece time to cover it with a sheet.

“It’s done?” He asked briskly.

“Yep.”

“You like it?” To Maple. She stamped once. Yes, she loved it. She just wasn’t sure if it would be enough anymore.

In no time she was buckled back into her reins, being led to the stable. Each step was heavy.

Chapter Fourteen

He meandered again, slowing his pace for her on the way back. Maple tried to find hope in that, but it was almost impossible. Her mind was warring with itself, trying to weave a pattern of sense between the threads of what Reece had told her, what Brie might want, the dead wife, and what Maple wanted.

Before he led her outside, J.B. stopped her. His hands went to her bridle, fingers smoothing over the leather, whispering across her cheekbones. He thumbed the bit in her mouth, wiping away the drool pooling at the corners.

Her eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything.

Using soft, gentle commands, he turned her around, his fingers combing through her hair. She felt him gather it all in his hands, then the soothing tug-and-pull as he braided it. Maple squeezed her eyes shut and just let herself feel the moment. For the first time in a long while, her brain simply shut off, living for the moment.

J.B.’s hands traced loving designs down her back as he finished her hair. He let them drift over her hips, giving her ass a firm slap before turning her to face him again. Maple felt her whole body blush as his gaze lingered on her nipples and her pussy. 

It was, by far, the best experience of her life. Hands-down. J.B. wasn’t even doing anything overtly sexual. But his touch was filled with warmth and kindness. The rough cowboy hands coveted her. Worshipped her.

This was care. It was love. His touch was meant to reassure her. Each pass of his fingertips wiped away a fear and left a trail of excitement, tingling and new. She peered into his mismatched eyes, loving every nuance to them. The way they could be filled with yearning and soulful depth, yet solidly in place in a worn, stoic face.

He tempered the storm within her and made her feel loved.

“You’re too thin,” he murmured, fingers brushing the ribs now pressing through skin. He reached down and to Maple’s surprise, grabbed a hipbone. She hadn’t realized how much weight had sloughed off her in the stable. His hands moved their way back up, cupping her face. It held it gently, like she was a bird with a broken wing. A butterfly in danger. His thumbs smoothed under her eyes where she knew dark circles lingered. “Too tired.”

J.B. drew her close. The buttons of his shirt pressed sharply into her skin and she relished the pain. His heat, his smell, invited her body in. She felt arms wrap tight around her, pressing her into his firm chest and stomach. Maple thought she was in danger of her heart bursting. Even her mind, usually so eager to grasp at each moment to divide and analyze, was muted.

J.B. nuzzled her, his breath hot on her temple. Maple shivered as his hand slid down the curve of her back, lightly tugging at her tail. The steel plug had long since adjusted to her body temperature. She never forgot it was there, really, but she’d become so acclimated to its weight and it’s solid, neverending pressure in her bowels that it became a part of her.

When he tugged it lightly, moving in deep within her, Maple jerked and gasped. Her pussy clenched, immediately flooding. She bit her tongue quickly to cut off his name, which was a hymn left on her lips, seeking to be sung.

“Oh, Baby,” she heard him whisper as he continued the gentle push-and-pull on her tail. It was a slow, agonizing pleasure, her body churning to a humiliatingly quick orgasmn. “I’ve missed you. I’ve been stupid, and I’ve been treating you so, so wrong.”

Her heart was convulsing in her chest, irregular, struggling. It wanted to shrink from his words, too afraid of being hurt. It wanted to leap from her chest, filled to bursting with triumph and, above all, love.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” As he said these words, this litany of humility, he slipped his other fingers between her slick folds. Maple opened her legs wider, inviting him, and sighed as two fingers slid into her hot channel. Her pussy was swollen, needy, desperate for his fingers.

Maple wasn’t sure of pony rules when it came to this. Her limited experience had been being a pony with a trainer, and seeing a pony mounted by another pony. This was nothing like anything she’d ever felt before, a trainer touching his pony so.

He had one hand behind her, holding her captive by her tail, working that deeply imbedded toy in her. Her ass clenched around it, pushed, clenched, all the while her body was winding tighter and tighter.

J.B. stroked her, soft and sure, curling his fingers until she saw stars. He played with her, and never had Maple been loved so sweetly. In her darkest, most secret dreams, she never would have allowed herself to believe her body could respond to, well, kindness. To love.

“Do you forgive me?” J.B. nipped at her jaw, his teeth scraping lightly at her ear and throat. “Will you come for me, my good pony? My sweet, wonderful, pony? Come for me now!”

His praise and adoration spilled through her like rain and she came, her orgasm sparking. It rippled through her, the plug and his fingers coaxing it to grow and grow. Maple forgot herself in the sensation, her hands leaping into his hair, knocking off his wide-brimmed hat and knotting in his hair.

She writhed on his hand, grinding down, her head tossed back.

“Yes, Baby, yes,” he soothed, “There’s my good girl.”

She whimpered when he removed his fingers, but she didn’t speak--he hadn’t asked for that. Not yet. Just her forgiveness, which baffled her. It was she who should be apologizing to him. Sorry for being so easily disassembled. For not believing in him. For not trusting him. For not trusting herself.

The moment was golden. Each part of her was alight, glowing. His forehead pressed to her sternum and she leaned back, supported by him, letting him find comfort in her embrace.

“May I love you?” He asked, strained.

May he love her? Was he crazy? That’s all she’d ever wanted!

She stamped once, emphatically. Please, she wanted to cry. Please love me!

He growled, and it shuddered through her, its primal call heating her once more. J.B. stood tall once more and guided her around. He placed her hands on the wall. They were in the middle of the hallway leading out of the house. The wall closest to them was partially glass. Maple mewled as she realized anyone could come by, anyone could see.

It scalded her, made her even more needy and pliant.

Gently, J.B. lifted her tail -- but didn’t remove it -- draping it over her lower back. The silky swish of it across her skin was divine. She heard him unzip and then, oh God, then he was inside of her. She was stretched tight, his cock nestled in deep with the plug only a thin membrane away.

Her two holes were filled completely, and she slapped the wall, unable to cry out her ecstasy. “That’s it, girl. Nice and slow,” he encouraged her, placing his large, rough hands over hers, pinning her to the wall. J.B. pulled out a little and then slid in. His belly pressed the dildo in deep, the pressure blooming inside of her, and Maple let out a choking bray.

With sensitive, delicate care, he loved her deep and long. Each stroke filled her. Each thrust stretched her, her holes begging for more. When she was close to coming again, he slid one hand over her mouth, thrusting two fingers inside. She tasted her salty musk on his skin.

He was everywhere. She felt him in her mouth, swirling her tongue over gritty callous and her lingering juices. Maple felt him in her ass, his body manipulating the plug inside of her, forcing her to accept its wide, thick length over and over.

She felt him in every centimeter of her pussy, as it clenched and cradled him.

Her orgasm built slow, burning low like a cigarette before exploding, catching her off guard. Every nerve, every pore and cell detonated and she would have collapsed if J.B. hadn’t caught her around her middle, lowering her to the ground while still buried in her.

He mounted her from behind, his pace changing to short, hard thrusts, and Maple couldn’t keep it in anymore. She screamed out for him. The scream was a ragged thing, like it was forced through glass, her throat so raw from disuse.

J.B.’s fingers tightened, and he jerked a few times before pulling out and coming on her ass. She felt the hot, sticky semen dripping down her skin and sighed, content.

Her limbs were tingling, her body languid as J.B. carefully cleaned her off and gathered her into his arms. He nestled her onto his lap, swooping her tail around, his fingers playing with the ends of it. Maple leaned into him, burying her face into the nook of his shoulder.

J.B.’s smell was familiar, but after so long in the stable, it felt new. Sunlight and leather, a hint of pine from his shampoo. The musk of their sex lingered, too.

What had happened? She’d been so heartbroken for so long, and Reece hadn’t done much to help her feel stronger. Maple had been certain she was days away from seeing J.B. for the last time before being pawned off to a new Master.

He’d been so distant, cold even, since she began her training. Each day she’d wondered if a wedge was being shoved further and further between them, a wedge of her own creation.

So many times Maple had considered that she was her own worst enemy. Now she felt tremulous, a bird half-way into flight, heart beating quick and light.

“Maple, I’m sorry.” His words caressed the hair at the crown of her head, sending shivers down her neck and spine. “If I’d have known--” his voice caught. Not by tears, but by… what? Self-loathing? Regret?

She leaned out and peered at him. He caught her confused expression, his own tightening in response. “I should have shot them both. I wish I had been the one to shoot Tony, not Reece.” Venom laced through his voice, dropping it low and deadly. “They are fucking scum, Maple, for what they did to you, and to other girls.”

Tears, fat and heavy, welled in her eyes. So he did know. How could he even stand to touch her, knowing how used her body had been?

Maple shrank into herself, but he caught her, stopped her, brought her back to him. “Don’t you dare, Maple. Don’t you dare think this is your fault. They prey on young girls. Prey on desires you should never feel ashamed of. They twist and warp and break you.

“That club they are running does what I do, but much, much worse. They beat women into submission, torture them and scar them, and then sell them to despicable men who dare to call themselves Masters. I have no idea how they received invitations to Peyton’s auction, but I refuse to sell women there anymore if he’s letting animals like your ex in.”

Maple’s head reeled. Tony? Selling? She’d never delved into his other activities. He’d been very clear about what parts of her life she’d had access too. It felt surreal, part of her denying the accusation (
he wouldn’t do that, he wouldn’t!)
and part of her certain it was the truth (
oh my God, how could he?).
This, in turn, led to a surge of violent terror.

Her body spasmed from the force of the fear, the memories pounding into her. Each hurt and humiliation. The way he’d let men use her, treating her like a… like a cock sleeve! Had he been aiming to sell her?

But then J.B. was there, his commanding voice telling her it
was
okay. It wasn’t a consolation, he wasn’t trying to patronize her. He was telling her, with absolute assurance, it was okay now. He was here now. He would never,
never
let anything hurt her.

Maple clung to him like a lifeline until she could wrangle herself into calm.

“Maple, I’m going after them. Raúl and the boys and I, we’ve tracked their suppliers. They operate all over the place, but they’re going to sell to the cartel soon. There’s a pick up point about fifty miles from here. Tonight.” J.B. sneered. “Those guys don’t even know how to cover their tracks. It was so easy to get that information with enough money.”

Maple looked up at his face, her shoulders and neck tense and her mind confused. What was J.B. even talking about?

He kissed her again, gently. “I’m going to get them, Maple. I’m going to nail those sons of bitches tonight. Raúl’s put in an anonymous tip with the Feds, and we’re going out to make sure those fuckers get caught. He’s already loaded the trailer with the horses.”