Or maybe it’s my body that does that. That goes completely still at the electric circuit shooting through me.
The crunch of hooves on gravel pulls me from my thoughts. I flip around.
At first, I think I’m imagining him since he’s on my mind. But I’d know that build anywhere—ran into it enough times.
Wilder rides toward me on a brown horse I’ve seen him on before, his silhouette outlined against the fading light.
“You lost?”
I hesitate. I’m not a fan of admitting when I don’t know what I’m doing.
The sting of embarrassment prickles my skin. “No. Just exploring. It’s a Friday night after all, maybe I’m looking for another bonfire or, you know .?.?. more reasons to aggravate my boss.”
He pulls the horse to a stop beside me. “Exploring, huh? Must be why you’re about half a mile from your cabin.”
“Half a—” I glance around. “How’s that?”
He chuckles. “Want a ride back?”
My eyes flick to the horse. I’ve never been on one before. But I don’t want to share that fact just yet. I shrug. “Sure. Why n—”
He swings down like it wasn’t really an option for me, holding the reins in one hand as he steps closer. “Come on, then.”
He supports me as I hoist myself up. His strong grip rests just above my hip, on the open skin between my waist-tied shirt and jeans.
Jesus, I need to have sex.
That’s got to be what this is. It’s been too long. I’m drying out over here.
Once I’m settled, I release a breath I’d been holding. I can’t tell if it was from climbing a horse for the first time, or Wilder touching me like his hands belong on my skin.
The saddle feels impossibly high, the horse’s movements beneath me unsettling. But I’m instantly at ease when Wilder settles behind me.
“Comfortable?” he asks, his tone laced with amusement.
I nod.
He reaches around me to take the reins in both hands, his chest brushing against my back. The heat of him seeps through my shirt and I swallow hard, trying not to melt into him.
Is that even safe to do?
Safe?Maybeyoushouldbeaskingyourselfifit’sappropriate.
No. The answer is no. So there will be no leaning or melting of any kind.
“You’ve never been on a horse before.” His breath is on the side of my face. It’s warm and masculine.
My cheeks flush hot. I twist my head so he doesn’t see me blush—but it backfires.
Because he doesn’t move. So when I twist to face away, his lips graze my neck.
I suck in a sharp breath and squeeze my eyes shut. “Oof, I’m sorry.” I exhale a laugh, covering my face, becauseofcourse, I just did that. “I’m an H.R. nightmare, aren’t I?”
“A what?”
“Where I’m from, you’d be sending me training videos on sexual harassment and make me sign an acknowledgement of understanding.”
His soft chuckle vibrates through me. Then he guides my hands off my face and onto the saddle horn. “Just hold on. The only training I want to give you is how to not fall off a horse,” he teases. But with the way his arms are wrapped around me from behind, I am not laughing.
