Sore and guilty. That’s what I am.
My entire body aches in the best way. I’ve always seen that on shows or read it in smutty books—someone talking about being sore from having their brains fucked out all night. I thought it was fiction.
It is not fiction.
Stefan lies beside me in his spacious king-sized bed looking exhausted after taking me over and over again until we ran out of condoms. Being a sex expert must be exhausting. The man is a fucking god. I’m a girl who lives inside animal science textbooks and peer-reviewed papers and uses a big purple dildo when the fancy strikes because I honestly don’t think about sex that often.
Until him. Until his whispered words and searing glances. Now all I can think about is sex. This is a disease a condom can’t save me from.
Obsession.
My eyes flit over his face. His cheekbones and defined nose. His dark dirty blond hair all disheveled from where my hands spent hours hanging on for dear life. His lips swollen from me latching on to his face like a goddamn succubus. Or maybe they’re swollen from the words that spill from them.
The man has a filthy mouth. His accent gets stronger, more sensual, when his walls come down. I’m pretty sure he could talk me into an orgasm if he tried, if he looked at me in the special way he does. Yeah, I’m almost positive I could orgasm on the spot from that alone.
Maybe if he played with my nipples, too. The way he rolls them. I had no idea he’d be so into my tits, or that covering up the way I do would drive him crazy the way he confessed to me last night.
He sighs and pulls me into his chest. Nothing about Stefan is simply what meets the eye. He’s complicated and fascinating, and God, he’s really not boring. He’s beautiful—I’ve always thought so. The accent, the smirk, the mysterious background. Nobody prepared me for the fact he’d be equally alluring and beautiful on the inside.
He’s addictive.
I snuggle in close, the smell of his mint soap from the shower last night wrapping around us as I try to escape the sense of looming guilt closing in on me since last night. Not guilt for sleeping with him. I truly cannot bring myself to feel bad about that. Though I’m not looking forward to everyone inevitably finding out. That’s probably something I’ll put off for a while yet. I need to wait and see where this goes.
I feel the light dusting of hair over his chest against my cheek as I close my eyes. I can see his face above mine last night while he moved over me, giving me more pleasure than I’ve ever experienced.
I was mindless in the moment. But the memory haunts me. The green eyes. The knowledge he’s looking for his biological father. Knowing I have a hunch and haven’t disclosed it makes my stomach burn. I need to figure this out, and fast. It’s a terrible secret to keep. But blowing up multiple people’s lives when I could be wrong isn’t ideal either. I need to stick to my plan, my hypothesis followed by a proper inquiry so I don’t make an ass of myself.
He’ll never forgive me if I’m wrong. Too many people in his life have let him down, lied to him. He talks about protecting the people around him, but it sounds to me like no one has ever protected him. I don’t want to cause him pain. When I tell him about this, I want to be sure. And after lying here for the past hour mulling it over, I don’t think anything less than sure is a risk I’m willing to take. Anything less is not what he deserves.
I need to play it safe with Stefan Dalca, because I don’t want to lose whatever it is that we’ve just found.
“Stop squirming or you’ll force me to fuck you again.” Stefan’s voice is sleepy against the top of my head and his legs tangle with mine, clamping them down into the memory foam mattress.
I giggle quietly and feel his hips grind forward, his erection rubbing against my stomach. “You’re out of condoms, remember?”
“Careful handing me a challenge like that, Mira. I’m full of ideas that don’t require a condom at all. That’s hardly a deterrent.”
His fingers trail down my arm, my skin pebbles beneath his touch. “Tell me about this tattoo.” His voice is all gruff and sleepy, butterflies erupt in my stomach. “What does it mean?”
I giggle quietly, watching his finger trace the outline of the black floral design on the inside of my forearm. “It doesn’t mean anything. My parents told me I couldn’t get a tattoo when I asked for one, so I went out and found someone who would give me one without their permission anyway.”
He hums thoughtfully before lifting my hand and pressing a quick kiss to my palm before resting it against his cheek. “Fascinating that you still think it means nothing.”
“What do you mean?” I look up at him, and his eyes glow with such intensity, his beauty is consuming—it steals my breath just to look at him this closely. This intimately.
That signature devil-may-care grin graces his lips, and then his mouth is against the ornate ink on my arm, lips and tongue tracing the lines in a way that has me squeezing my thighs together. “This right here is proof that you are your own woman,” he says against my skin. “No one tells Dr. Mira Thorne what she can and can’t do.”
I try to change the direction of our conversation, feeling suddenly jumpy in the presence of someone who can turn me to putty in his hands while also reading me so damn easily. Someone whose vision is like a laser through every shield I’ve erected. Someone who appreciates my rebellious streak—encourages it even.
“What’s with you always kissing my palm?”
His eyes meet mine once again and his responding smile is soft and vulnerable; completely oblivious to my inner turmoil. Instead of replying right away, he runs his fingers over top of mine, still watching his skin slide against my own with a look of quiet awe on his face.
“You have beautiful hands. Almost as beautiful as your mind and heart. Sometimes I find myself staring at them while you work, so elegant and strong all at once. Hands that heal. Hands that save lives.” His voice drops. “Hands that belong in mine.”
My heart races, and my body heats. I swear it’s like he uncovered some secret button on me and knows exactly how to push it. He makes me feel treasured. I get this indulgent side of him that no one else sees. I feel like I’m in on a secret. One that I want to keep for myself—to revel in.
“See? You like that plan. I can tell by the little sigh you just made,” he grumbles, lifting my palm to press a reverent kiss right to the center, his lashes fluttering shut as he does.
I didn’t even notice the sigh. I must sound like a lovesick teenager.
“It’s true. You promised me I wouldn’t be bored, and I’m not.”
One eye flicks open as he looks down at me. “You really thought sex was boring?”
“It was always… Fine? Like… nice? But not something I felt like I couldn’t go without. My mind would always wander somewhere else. Like a diagnosis I couldn’t figure out, or what’s going to happen on the next Grey’s Anatomy. It just wasn’t a priority. I’m too busy to worry about sex. Still am.”
He chuckles like he doesn’t believe me. “Okay, Dr. Thorne.”
“What?” I bristle. “I am. Better sex doesn’t make me any less busy.”
“Better? Is that all?” He lifts up to rest his head in his palm and smirks down at me.
If I were wearing panties, they would melt for a smile like that. Instead, we’re both tangled up in each other, completely naked, and now I’m feeling like that was a colossally stupid idea. Even a single layer of protection would have kept his hand from gliding across my bare skin, from cupping my ass and sliding a finger through my slick core.
“You’re awfully wet for someone who is just barely better than bored.”
I say nothing as his fingers continue their exploration, spreading my wetness over my lips as proof of how completely full of lies I am.
“Do you often get this wet for men who aren’t your type, Dr. Thorne?”
My head snaps to him. “Stop saying that.” I don’t like him saying that. I meant it to push him away, and now it’s not true. It’s so damn far from the truth. And I’m done pushing this beautiful, complex man away.
“Why?” His green eyes glitter as they move between mine knowingly.
“You know why.” I roll my eyes, body wound tight.
Stefan flips me flat onto my back. “I don’t think I do. You’re like a safe, and I think I’m close to figuring out the combination. So don’t worry, Mira. I’m going to get in there and learn all your secrets. I’ll keep them for you, too. Especially the one about me being exactly your type.”
And with that, he winks and disappears beneath the covers.
My walks of shame usually just refer to drunkenness. Smudged makeup. Maybe a broken heel on my shoe due to said inebriation.
A fancy backless dress and missing panties just slaps a little differently, and I pray no one sees me as I race up the stairs to my apartment above the barn with my fancy stilettos in hand. Stefan offered some spare clothes or to ‘borrow’ something from Nadia. Both options seemed even more obvious to my sex-addled mind.
I fumble with my keys, cursing under my breath as they drop to the landing. “Motherfucker.” I don’t even risk looking around myself. I pick up the keys and get through the door before slamming it behind me and leaning up against it. A deep sigh leaves my chest, and I let my eyes close as I lean my head back.
Once I get my bearings, I open my eyes and look around the tiny apartment. I’m home, but it feels very empty and very quiet. A bit lonely even. My friends are paired off, connected at the hip to their men and loving it, and I just left the house of the only man who has ever made me feel something for no reason other than I needed some goddamn space. Tearing myself away from him after one night of mind-blowing sex was already hard enough.
I need space. And to think.
My phone pings, and I pick it up.
VIOLET
Don’t forget it’s girls’ night!
Goddamnit. How did I forget? And why does it have to be after pulling an all-night sex-a-thon with the man they all hate?
VIOLET
I invited Nadia too. Hope that’s okay!
Fuck. This is going to be awkward. My thumbs fly across the screen.
MIRA
Of course, that’s okay. We going to Neighbors?
The pub is our go-to hang out.
VIOLET
Nah. The Paddock. Nadia said she doesn’t really drink, and I thought that might be more low-key. I’m tired, but I need a break. 7pm? I won’t last late.
I’m not sad that we’re going to our favorite field to drink and chat. It’s honestly my favorite meeting spot.
MIRA
See you then, hot mama.
VIOLET
It’s cute that you call me hot when we both know I just look eternally exhausted.
Violet loves this new chapter of her life. But being a full-time jockey and mom to a baby is hard work. She’s lucky she has Cole, who might be the most attentive husband and father of all time. I absently wonder what type of father Stefan would be as I let my dress fall to the floor, shaking my head at myself. Pathetic. I crawl into bed, determined to catch some actual hours of sleep before I make an appearance and try not to seem super guilty around my closest friends. But when I close my lids, all I see is Stefan and his beautiful green eyes.
My new favorite color.
When I wake up, I’m distracted. Not feeling like myself. The problem is… I don’t want to go to girls’ night. I want to go to Stefan’s house. I want to fall into his bed. I want him to wrap his arms around me so I can disappear in him. I feel like a child who’s just gone through a developmental leap. I can firmly say I have never felt like this about a guy before.
Especially not one I shouldn’t be tangling myself up with.
Especially one I’m keeping secrets from. Or who I’m keeping secret.
It feels dirty. It feels like an injustice to a man who has done nothing but go out of his way to help me, to defend me, to soothe me.
It’s a fucking trip, is what it is.
I lock the door behind me and jog down the narrow set of stairs to the ground. The ranch is quiet, the horses are in safely for the night, and the ones who are prepping for the upcoming season are living down at the track for their training regimen, and all the staff have gone home for the day.
There’s still a spring nip in the air this close to the mountains. I pull my oversized canvas coat tight around my body and consider going back for an extra blanket, but when I round the corner of the barn and look down the grass pathway to the paddock where we meet up sometimes, a bright fire catches my eye. The three girls are already there, and it’s looking like they’ve got a pretty cozy set up, which is new.
This whole thing started when Billie was hired as the trainer here at Gold Rush Ranch. According to her, she spent her first night on the farm lying on a blanket by her new project horse’s paddock with a bottle of wine, a loaf of bread, and a wheel of cheese.
Now we just keep the tradition going. It’s cozy, and as someone who hasn’t had a lot of friends, I love the simplicity of it. Just good people and simple food under the open air of Ruby Creek. I hope we’re still lying here drinking wine out of the bottle when we’re old and gray.
Assuming they don’t hate me when they find out I’ve been fucking the enemy.
“What have we got here?” I ask as I approach the group.
Violet smiles softly and runs her fingers through her hair. “I said I was cold when Cole walked me down here. A few minutes later, he pulled up to the barn with lawn chairs and a fire bowl.”
Good lord. Cole Harding is such a goner.
“He carried this all down here for us?”
Billie laughs as she cracks open a bottle of wine. “Have you seen the guy? He’s built like a tank. I think he enjoys carrying heavy stuff for fun in his free time. He’s also totally pussy whipped.”
Chuckles erupt and Violet’s cheeks go pink as she rolls her eyes. “Vaughn is no better. Care to tell the class what he’s doing tonight?”
I drop into the empty chair and wink at Nadia, who looks happy but a little out of place. “Let’s hear it, B.”
She takes a swig of wine straight from the bottle, because according to her it ‘tastes better that way.’ With a deep sigh, she passes it over to me and says, “He’s planning our wedding.”
I almost spray wine out my nose. “He what?”
Trying to avoid eye contact, she rifles through the backpack at her feet and pulls out a loaf of French bread. “You heard me. He’s planning the wedding because I don’t care about our wedding, and my parents and Vaughn do. So, I told them to plan it and tell me where to be when the day comes.”
My brow furrows. “Billie, I’m well aware you’re not a weddings and babies type of person, but don’t let other people tell you what your day should be like.”
“I’m not.” She shrugs as she rips a chunk of bread off before topping it with a slice of cheese from the plate in her lap. “I just don’t care. I’d marry Vaughn tomorrow, right here in this field. And he knows that, but he has a better sense of duty than I do. He’s also my mother’s wet dream. Listening to them talk to each other makes me wish I could have fallen in love with someone who would have been a disappointment to them.” Violet snorts and Billie hits her with a grin. “Either way, he can handle her, and I can’t. So, he can taste the cakes and worry over invite fonts. I’d rather be here, doing this.”
“Cheers to that.” I hold the bottle of red wine up and then go to hand it to Violet.
She just shakes her head with a shy smile. I check to see that everyone is distracted with their food before quirking one brow at her. She nods and looks away, cheeks and chest going crimson.
Dang. Another baby Harding on the way already.
I give Violet’s knee a quick squeeze before whispering, “I’m so happy for you.”
She smiles so hard I think her face might crack open. No wonder Cole was out here setting up a whole fire and chairs for her. Papa Bear is feeling protective.
I hand the wine back to Billie since Vi obviously doesn’t want this announced. “How about you, Nadia? How’s life in Ruby Creek treating you now that we got that pesky principal off your back?”
She gives me a conspiratorial, pleased look. Her golden tresses pulled up in a messy bun make her appear younger than when her wild curls flow down to her shoulders. “That was fun.”
“It was.”
“What did you guys do?” Violet asks, leaning forward from under her blanket, looking all wide-eyed and innocent.
“We uh…” I glance over at Nadia, and she shrugs. I figure if we were going to get in trouble for this, we would have by now. “We egged her principal’s car.”
Violet gasps, and Billie cackles before asking, “Why?”
“Because he’s a sexist pig,” Nadia bites out, clearly still miffed about her humiliating ordeal.
“Yes! I knew I liked you, Nadia,” Billie says before holding her bottle of wine up over the fire in a cheer. “Here’s to taking out all the sexist pigs.”
Nadia raises her soda in response.
“Here, here!” I call as we all dissolve into a fit of giggles.
Silence descends as we all work on getting some food in us. Chugging wine on an empty stomach is a rookie move. And we’re all too old for that shit.
“Speaking of sexist pigs… I was at the second chance fundraiser last night,” I tell them. “Patrick Cassel was arrested.”
“What?” Billie drops her food onto the plate and stares at me, mouth agape. “What for?”
“Doping horses without their owner’s consent or knowledge, among other things I assume.”
A low whistle erupts from Billie’s lips. “Goddamn. I knew that guy was a piece of shit, but that’s really just the cherry on top, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. My brother has been slaving over taking that guy down for months,” Nadia mumbles over a mouth full of food.
My eyes go wide, and Billie’s head whips to her. “Stefan?”
She nods right as Violet pipes up, “You make him out to be a lot worse than he is, B. Your grudge-holding ability is next level.”
All I can hear is my heart pounding in my ears. This is toeing the line awfully close to my secrets spilling out. And with a warm buzz coursing through me, I wonder if it would be so bad to just get it off my chest. Just blurt it out and get it out in the open.
“I hate that fucking guy,” Billie grumbles as she rips at her bread again.
“Hey, hey, hey now, that’s my big brother you’re talking about,” Nadia chimes in just as Violet scolds her with a whisper-shout, “Billie!”
I take a contemplative swig of wine. A really big one. “You realize he saved your horse, right?”
She scoffs, agitation lining her every movement. Billie is a championship grudge holder. Ask her parents. I appreciate she’s got her baggage, her reasons, but I’m feeling protective of Stefan. The Stefan I know doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment.
“We’d have figured something out,” she says. “The guy is a slimy fucking snake in the grass.”
My cheeks heat with indignance. “No. That foal would have died.”
She rolls her eyes and chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. “Okay, Mira. When you’re done fondling Dalca’s balls for doing us one little favor, let me know.”
I take another large swig and then rest my head back on the chair, looking up at the darkening sky, feeling the heat of the fire soak into my bones. “I did a lot more than fondle his balls.”
Violet spews water all over herself.
Nadia groans and shakes her head with a small smile. “Fucking gross. I knew it.”
Billie stares at me, shock painting her pretty features. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Sorry, B. No joke.”
“Okay…” She settles back in her chair, pressing her lips together. Clearly mulling over what to say next. She steeples her hands in front of her face, tapping her fingers on her nose before pointing them back at me. “Is this you going deep cover? Like when a CIA agent bangs the bad guy to uncover enemy secrets? Because I could probably admire your commitment.”
I tilt my head to the side and smile at her with sadness. I recognize she’s not going to like this, but when have I ever done things the way other people wanted me to? “No, B. It’s…”
I worry my bottom lip between my teeth as I search for the right label for Stefan and me.
“It’s real.”
