The Satin Sash

“Now, to ride the horse, you just need your thighs.You’ve got lovely toned thighs, so that won’t be a problem.To steer it, you use the reins.You don’t kick the horse to a run and tug on the reins at the same time or you’re sending mixed signals, and it gets confused or pissed out of its wits at you. Understand?”

Her heart pounded. His palms went to her thighs, and as he bent his head, she felt an unfortunate escalation of her arousal.This was so not the place to be melting....

He urged her legs into the horse’s flank. “Close your thighs tightly around the horse.You grip it with your inner thigh.And I’ve got you with one arm, see? I won’t let you go.”

“Okay.”

“And now we trot.”

“Okay.”

But nothing happened. He said, “Cluck to it, beautiful. Send it a kiss.You’re the boss here; ask it to trot for you.”

Beautiful . . .

She did as he instructed, and the gelding began to trot, and she bounced up and down in the saddle with absolutely no control of herself. “Heath!” She was panicking.

“We’re doing fine; don’t get scared. Use your legs to rise a bit before your ass hits the saddle and you won’t bounce.Very good, that’s it! You’re getting it. Now, steer this fellow in a circle, and go with it. Be one with the horse.That’s right, Cat.That’s just right.”

They found a stride, and she began to smile. It did feel good. A sensation of freedom and bliss flowed through her. She moved with the horse, and Heath moved with the horse; their bodies moved like a single entity. Like when they moved during sex, or when they’d once danced so close.

“I’m going to let go of your waist now, and you’re going to do it by yourself, all right?”

“Yes,” she gasped, and steered the animal around, trotting it back the same way they’d come. The animal’s rhythmic breathing was a rough, heady sound coming out through its nose, echoing their pace. Toni could tell the gelding was loving this; his ears pricked, head up and alert, his awesome, capable body straining with attention for her commands. The horse looked so content trotting; he did not look inclined to turn his head and bite her leg or throw her off his back at all.

With that realization, coupled with Heath’s massive chest such a reassuring support against her back, she was getting so into it. She wanted more of this awesome sensation, this feeling of accomplishment, of freedom. “And to get it to gallop I just . . . ?”

He chuckled.“All right, we graduate to galloping. Ju

st kick with your heels a bit, send him more kisses, and let him find his stride.”

She felt exhilaration when they took off. “We’re galloping!”

“We’re galloping.”

“Yay!”

He was chuckling, and her own laughter was welling up in her throat. After a few minutes they slowed to a canter, then galloped more and trotted again. By the time they rode up to the house, Toni was wearing a smile so wide it was almost painful.The chestnut mare stood waiting by the curved, willowy palm tree. On the second stone step leading up the cliff, Grey waited cross-armed, his glasses tucked into his polo.

“There’s your Grey,” Heath said.

And she said, breathlessly, “He’s smiling.”

“He’s proud of you.”

With a smile that made her all the more breathless, he strode up to help her dismount.Toni fell into his arms, her limbs winding tight around his strong, solid body.

He gave her a fierce squeeze and brushed her tangled hair out of her face, running his eyes over her cheeks and lips and eyes. His face worked with emotion. “Look at you. All smiles and laughs.”

“Did you see me?”

“You’re a sight, Miss Kearny.” He cradled her face between his two hands, his eyes like molten amber. “We should’ve done this months ago.”

“Why didn’t we?” It felt so good!

“You know why,” he said quietly, and caressed her cheekbone with the pad of his thumb.

“Because you saw me fall?” she asked, reaching out to brush a blond lock from his forehead. “Would you miss me terribly if something happened to me, Grey Richards?”