The Virgin Next Door (Stud Ranch)

People get muscle spasms for all kinds of reasons. Dehydration. Not having enough magnesium in their diet.

“You all right, baby? Don’t let anythin’ that slag said get to ya.”

Calla nodded jerkily. “Oh, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Just got us all signed in.” Mack came over to them. “We’re up in fifteen with the second group. I’ve just got to get Torpedo from where Xavier’s holding h—” He paused, looking between Liam and Calla. “What’s wrong. Did something happen?”

“Yeah, some blonde skank came around telling Cal—”

“Nothing,” Calla cut Liam off. “Just some trash talking. That’s all.” She narrowed her eyes at Liam. “Let’s just focus on the competition. Clear heads.”

Mack’s eyes softened. “You got this, babydoll.” He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Hell yeah, she’s got it. Now, second place is a different story. Hopefully there are enough police nearby to hold back the rioting when an Irishman walks away with the trophy.”

Calla rolled her eyes while Mack scoffed. “I’m shocked you managed to get that animal off the trailer. Look at her.” Mack gestured to Liam’s horse. “She looks like she’s gonna bolt any second.”

Calla glanced Mistress’s way and Mack wasn’t wrong. The way her eyes were wild and searching, it was obvious all the noise and fuss of the field where everyone had parked was putting her on edge. Calla kept telling Liam he needed to do more desensitizing training with her.

Liam’s eyes narrowed at Mack. “Sometimes it’s all about the superior rider.”

Calla shook her head. Seeing them today, she’d hardly believe these were the same two men who’d been caressing each other and sharing such intimate experiences as little as three nights ago. Calla had been going to bed early to get ready for the trials but the boys were always like this. Everything a competition. But when they stepped in the bedroom, it was like they became different people. Or maybe that was the real them and all this bluster was the façade.

Calla glanced down at her thigh again. It was still.

Okay. It was just a false alarm. Right? Her throat went dry.

Today. Today is all that matters.

And today she was going to show that she was training up a prizewinning mare. Time to get her head in the game. “Where’s the starting area?”

The guys stopped glaring at each other long enough for Mack to gesture behind him toward a cluster of people and horses.

Twenty minutes later, Calla, Liam, Mack and a group of about five others that unfortunately included Bethany grouped together near the start of the trail.

“Ready,” the trail master called out, “Set. Mount up and go!”

Calla put her foot in the left stirrup and smoothly hiked herself up into the saddle. She only spared one glance behind her to see Liam get his foot in the saddle and then his horse started forward before he could get his leg over. He jumped back to the ground and tried again with the same result. He didn’t give up and drop back down this time, though. He held on, standing with one foot in the stirrup as Mistress turned in circles, teeth snapping in Liam’s direction.

Calla turned forward, trying to choke back her laugh. She clenched her thighs around Painter to get her moving, noting both Bethany and Mack and a couple others already had their seats too.

“Stand still, you manky mongrel,” she heard Liam growl as Calla urged Painter into a trot down the trail head. She was third but the path was wide for a little while and she quickly passed a man and headed for the leader. Bethany’s long blonde ponytail bobbed ahead in the distance.

“Let’s go, Paint. We got this.”

They were almost on Bethany’s heels before she looked over her shoulder to glare at Calla. Her mouth dropped open and she looked infuriated before her long ponytail whipped around as she looked forward again.

Just in time, too, because they were coming up on the first obstacle. The trail narrowed slightly and several downed trees had been laid across the trail. Bethany barely stopped in time for her horse not to trip but Calla had plenty of time to transition Painter from a trot to a walk.

Bethany had brought out a crop and was smacking the back of her mustang’s rump, finally urging her over the first log.

Ignore her. Painter was all that mattered right now.

Calla clicked her tongue and made sure Painter could see the obstacles. Then, just like they practiced every day at home, she led Painter to lift her legs and feel her way over the objects in her path. Out of the corner of her eye, Calla could see the judges standing off in the trees. Probably the only thing that kept Bethany from cussing her out.

Because by the time she’d led Painter over the last tree trunk, she was in the lead. Calla allowed herself a brief smile before tightening her thighs to send Painter on down the trail. She heard noise behind her—Bethany had probably gotten her horse over the logs and more riders had arrived at the first obstacle—but she tried to block it out.