The Riding Master (20 page)

“You do know I have no feelings for Foster, don’t you?”

He slid the pizza box onto the stone and cedar breakfast bar. “I know.” He turned to the natural wood cabinet behind him and took out two white plates. “But I think Foster may be regretting letting you go.”

“How did you know that?” Rayne dropped her purse on the kitchen counter. “He hinted at something like that when we were talking outside of the exam room.”  

Trent put the plates down and went to the built-in refrigerator. “Your mother told me. When she called Foster, she was certain he would blow her off. Even she was surprised when he came to her rescue.” He withdrew a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator. “He asked her a lot of questions about you. Your mother suspected he was growing tired of his new girlfriend.” Trent brought the wine, along with two wineglasses from the rack under the cabinet, to the breakfast bar.

“I can’t believe she told you that.”

“She likes me.” Rummaging through a drawer, he found the wine opener. “She wanted to give me some tips on how to handle you.”

“Yeah, that sounds like something she would say.” She eyed the bottle of zinfandel. “Do you have anything other than wine? I think I had plenty last night.”

“There’s some bottled water in the fridge.”

While leaning into the refrigerator and searching for her water, an unsettling curiosity nagged at Rayne. “What kind of tips did my mother give you?”

“Oh no.” He worked the opener into the bottle of wine. “I’m not telling you. I plan on using that information to win you over.”

Rayne found a bottle of water and stood up. “Win me over? You’ve already slept with me, what more could you want?”

He expertly extracted the cork from the bottle. “Is that all you think I’m in this for? To sleep with you?” Slapping the opener on the counter, he grabbed a wineglass. Trent filled the glass halfway with the golden liquid, and then handed it to her. “You need this more than I thought.”

She pushed the glass away. “I told you I don’t want to drink.”

“Those pesky little defenses of yours are already starting to show.” He banged the wineglass down on the countertop. “Like the way you ignored my question about wanting to use Frank as an excuse not to stay with me tonight.”

Rayne put the bottle of water on the bar and snatched up the wine. “You’re good.” She took a sip from the wine. “And I didn’t ignore your question. I think it would be best if I slept in my bed tonight and not yours.”

“Best for whom? You or me?” Lifting the bottle of wine, he poured another glass. “Admit it; you’re still nervous about being with me.”

“Trent, I’m not nervous, and I’m not putting up any of my ‘so-called’ defenses.” Rayne took a bigger gulp of wine.

“Then why are you suddenly drinking the wine?” He raised his glass to his lips, all the while keeping his eyes on her.

“I’m thirsty, not nervous.”

He grinned. “Prove it.”

“What?”  

“Prove I don’t make you nervous, Rayne.”

She took another swallow of wine. “How do I prove that?”

He held his glass in front of his mouth as he considered the question. “Take off your clothes,” he finally stated.

Her hazel eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open. “You’re not serious?”

“I am serious.” He put his wine on the stone countertop. “Take off your clothes.”

She whacked her wineglass down. “Let’s eat first.”

He held her wrist when she reached for the pizza box. “There will be no pizza for you until you take off your clothes for me.”

The sudden emptiness in his eyes frightened her. “Why do I need to take off my clothes?”

He kept his hand on her wrist while he closed the pizza box. “Because I want you to learn that you can trust me.”

Pushing down her fear, she calmly said, “I trust you, Trent. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t trust you.”

“That’s not the kind of trust I’m talking about, Rayne.”

Still holding her wrist, he dragged her into the living room. She wanted to vehemently protest, but bit her tongue. There was something exciting about the way he took control.  

Arriving in front of his brown leather sofa, Trent let her go. “Take off your clothes,” he commanded in a husky tone. He sat down on the sofa and folded his arms over his chest. “While I watch.” 

Rayne remembered that voice from their night of phone sex. It had the same sexy quality that had driven her to do something unexpected and totally out of character. She rubbed the heel of her hand over her forehead, fighting to reign in her libido. “Trent, I’m really not in—”

“Do as I say, Rayne.” His voice was rough and dangerous. “Strip for me. I want to see you, every inch of you.”

She stared at him, weighing the possibility of running for her car still parked outside. Then, her mother’s words from earlier that day came back to her. She considered what would happen if she did let him take control. What if for once, she handed herself over to a man completely? Stopped thinking, stopped worrying, and just let events unfold.

Mesmerized by the unyielding resolve reflecting in his eyes, Rayne started undoing the laces of her tennis shoes. After she had kicked off her shoes, she pulled her white T-shirt over her head. She threw the shirt to the sofa, where it landed next to Trent, but his attention never left her. Keeping her focus on him, she wiggled her jeans down her hips. Stepping out of her jeans, she unclasped her bra. Her excitement began to build as she undressed for him. She was not trying to be seductive…if anything, she felt clumsy and awkward, but the way his eyes stayed riveted on her made Rayne want him even more.

By the time she dropped her panties to the floor, her heart was beating wildly. He examined every inch of her, from her lean legs to her small waist and full breasts, and then up to her slender shoulders. The scrutiny was agonizing, and made Rayne cover her nakedness with her hands.

“Lower your hands,” he ordered. “Stand perfectly still and keep your hands at your sides.”

After several more minutes, he finally stood from the sofa. When he came up to her, she could not detect any hint of desire in his eyes or flush on his tanned cheeks. He appeared unmoved by her nudity, adding to Rayne’s discomfort. He stepped behind her, but never laid a finger on her.  

Leaning over her shoulder, he whispered, “Get on the sofa.”

She turned her head slightly to the side, to look for a glimmer of what he had planned, but saw nothing in his expression. His gray orbs were cold, ruthless, and intimidating as hell.

Repeating her mother’s advice in her head, she went to the sofa and sat down. She shivered when her naked bottom touched the chilly leather.

“Now lie down, on your back,” he directed.

She stretched out on the sofa and the goose pimples rose on her skin.

He came forward and gazed down at her. “Close your eyes.”

She opened her mouth to question whether this was a good idea or not.

“Just do it,” he growled.

Rayne’s anxiety rose with her eyes closed. Not being able to see what he was going to do, or gauge the sincerity in his face, was even more nerve-wracking for her. When his hand rested on her thigh, she jumped.

“Easy, baby,” he cooed into her ear.

Slowly he caressed her left leg, moving his fingers up and down in a rhythmic motion. The cool air swirled around her, but Rayne did not mind anymore. She was no longer cold as his hand eased along her inner thigh. His fingers lighted over the small mattering of hair between her legs, and then gently tracked over her lower belly. Moving up, he traced the outline of her right breast and crept closer to her nipple. Rayne’s body was beginning to hum, and her anxiety receded as her yearning rose.

She let out a surprised gasp when his mouth grazed her right breast. His tongue circled her nipple, and when his teeth teased her flesh, her breath caught in her throat. His bite began to get a little more intense, and the gentle nipping turned into tugging. The funny thing was, Rayne liked it. The harder he clamped down, the more her flesh rippled with delight.

“Do you like that?” he panted against her cheek. His fingers pinched her left nipple. “Do you like it when I’m hard or gentle?”

“Hard.” Rayne found her lips forming the words before her mind even considered the question.

“I knew it,” he moaned against her.

Both his hands began running up and down her hips, inner thighs, and kneading her breasts as Rayne imagined Trent pulling her from the sofa, throwing her body to the floor, and taking her from behind.

“What are you thinking about?” His fingers dipped between her legs.

“All I can think about is you.”

His fingers roughly forced their way inside her. “That’s not true, Rayne. Tell me what you are thinking.”

Her body arched when he pushed further into her. “I’m thinking about how you would feel.”

“That’s not explicit enough. I want details.”

“I…I’m thinking about you throwing me to the floor…and taking me.”

His fingers darted in and out of her as his thumb rubbed her sensitive nub. “How do I take you? Describe it to me.” His voice was menacing, and yet intensely alluring.

“Oh God…from behind. You throw me to the floor and take me from behind.” She quaked as spindles of electricity flew through her gut.

“Why do you want it that way?”

“I…I don’t know.” Her hand squeezed the leather arm of the sofa.   

“Yes, you do.”  

“Because….” The heat from her coming orgasm hit her.

Trent’s fingers slowed. “You need to tell me the truth.”

Her body collapsed against the sofa. “Please, don’t stop.”

He traced the top of her thighs with his fingernail. “Tell me why that excites you.”

Her pulse was resonating in her ears while her body was screaming for release. It took everything she had to make her brain focus. “Because no one…has ever been…that way with me,” she stammered. “I want to know how it feels to just…just….”

“Let go and hand yourself over to someone?”

“Yes,” she sighed, opening her eyes.

The fire in his eyes shocked her. She knew he was passionate, but what Rayne saw at that moment was disconcerting. He appeared as if he were possessed with some unholy spirit. His attractive face held not a single hint of the attentive, caring man she had come to know.

He stood from the side of the sofa and wrestled his T-shirt over his head. Rayne sat up on her elbows as he undressed. When he finally slipped his briefs down to his ankles, she could see he was fully aroused.

Without warning, he flipped her over. Pinning her to the back of sofa, he bit down on her shoulder as his fingers spread her folds apart. He drove all the way into her with one forceful thrust. The sensation made Rayne tremble. It was raw, powerful, and utterly intense.

She held on to the sofa back as he pounded into her. Her insides exploded, and she grunted against the waves of pleasure. As he moved faster, her climax came tumbling forth. She tried to shift her hips, allowing him to go deeper, but he responded by crushing into her. She was helpless against him, and that feeling amplified her rush of adrenaline.

“Yes,” she cried out, as he stabbed into her with such force her body rocked forward. 

When she shuddered, Trent did not ease up and rammed into her even harder than before. Rayne had not even felt the first orgasm receding when the next one came over her. She tried to grip the back of the sofa, but her arms were like wet spaghetti. When the second release rocketed forward, she screamed and wilted into the sofa, but Trent relentlessly kept up his assault.

By the time she heard his ragged breath and felt him tense, Rayne was already covered with a light sweat and her insides were throbbing with satisfaction. Groaning into her back, he lurched against her and then went limp.

Pulling her down on the sofa with him, Rayne could not fathom where this side of Trent had been hiding. She had believed him to be kind, gentle, and strong, but had never pictured such a primal side to him.

His arms embraced her as he settled behind her on the sofa. “Did I hurt you?”

Rayne giggled. “No, God no. That was….”

“Just what you needed,” he inserted.

“How could you tell?”

He kissed the back of her shoulder. “You need a man to take control, especially in bed. I got that from you this morning.”

She rolled over on the sofa. “I don’t understand. How did you get that?”

He flipped on to his back. “When you didn’t get turned on and I had to change positions. I sensed it wasn’t the position that needed to change but my approach.”

She settled her head on his chest. “Is that something you acquired from your other lovers?”

“No, I think it came from riding. You can tell the horses that need to be led, and those that want to lead.” He rested one arm behind his head. “Somewhere down the road I started noticing the same thing in women. Not to compare women to horses,” he quickly clarified. “But just to say, I started to see some women needed a man to take control, and others wanted to be in control, especially in bed.”