“Did I catch a hint of a smile?” He ran a thumb beneath my jaw as he tipped up my face and studied me.
Swallowing hard, I tucked away worries about the future and savored the now as I buckled the clasp on my helmet.
“I’ve been thinking about that moment when Windchime and I leave you in the dust.”
“Is that right?” He hovered closer, his hands going around my waist beneath the big jacket I wore.
I got shivers, but they weren’t from the weather.
“Maybe I was also thinking about how good you look in jeans.”
“Are you going to write about it?” he teased, his breath warm on my cheek before he kissed my temple.
I felt melty inside already. Maybe I needed to make up for all the years I’d missed out on sex, because I had the urge to drag him back to the house and have my way with him. A switch had been flipped inside me and now that it was turned on, carnal thoughts were never far from my mind.
This wasn’t just a sexual awakening for me. It was a sexual thunderbolt.
“Keep inspiring me, hot stuff, and I think I might.” I arched up on my toes to kiss him, brushing my lips over his.
The soft, subtle pressure of his mouth reminded me of all the things he’d done to me the night before, the way his kiss had driven me to the edge and back. I inhaled the clean, musky scent of horse and man, my fingers curling into his soft shirt.
His breathing changed, becoming faster, harder, his awareness of me immediately obvious. Arousing. Besides, my pocket of time at Fraser Farm was quickly running out. I needed to act fast to store up more memories before I moved on.
When he pulled back, I barely had a second to meet his fiery gaze before he lifted me by the waist and plunked me into the saddle. Windchime hardly even twitched.
“That’s more than enough inspiration for now,” Damien growled, the warning in his voice making my toes curl inside the too-big boots I wore.
I didn’t bother trying to hide a smile as he stalked over to his horse and flung himself stiffly onto Eclipse’s back. Truly happy moments like this one didn’t come around nearly often enough.
“Ready?” he asked, taking up his reins and turning the dark gelding around.
We were taking one of the trails he kept groomed so guests could ride the horses they boarded at the farm, or potential buyers could watch a prospective horse’s workout.
“I’m ready.” My heart still thundered, anticipation for this man warming my blood.
“She won’t follow me. She’ll wait for you to give her full rein before she’ll let loose.”
“Got it.” I tensed and Windchime shifted. I patted her neck to reassure her I was no nervous horsewoman. Forcing myself to relax, I watched as Damien urged his mount forward.
I waited. And waited. True to Damien’s word, Windchime let me call the shots. And once I knew that I could, I leaned forward over her neck, bracing myself even as I loosened her lead and gave the command.
She took off with gratifying speed, her age and calm demeanor not taking away from the fact that this was a Thoroughbred, a horse bred and raised for racing. Her legs worked hard, churning fast and spitting bits of gravel as she got under way.
But after that initial surge, the big bay mare cruised into a smooth gallop that would have left any other horse I’d ever ridden in the dust. I stayed low over the withers, loving the aerodynamic feel of cutting though the cool breeze, the warm animal beneath me. Her pace seemed so effortless, her stride so long and easy that I laughed out loud at the simple joy of it. No one would ever drive an SUV to work if they could ride one of these gorgeous animals instead. My worries about Violet and my whereabouts coming to light rolled off my shoulders.
With wind whipping through the hair that escaped my riding helmet, I crowed long and loud. I might have beaten my chest with my fist if I didn’t think it’d make me fall out of the saddle. Damien must have heard me whooping with the fun of it because he turned to look over his shoulder. A wide grin spread across his features when he saw me.