Chapter 1
Mom announced the horseback riding trip as I was sprawled on the couch, pretending to read a novel that just wouldn’t hold my attention.
“We’re going to the Greenhill Equestrian Club this weekend,” my mom, Mirelle, declared, tossing her car keys onto the coffee table with an air of finality. “Steve just dropped four grand on a yearly membership. He’s taking us. And you’re coming.”
I glanced at her over the top of my book. “I don’t know how to ride a horse.”
“That’s why you’re going to learn!” She was already scrolling through photos of the club on her phone. “Okay, you have to go.”
And so, early Saturday morning, I found myself sitting in the back seat of my mom’s boyfriend Steve’s black SUV.
He was driving, Mom was shotgun, glued to a client call.
It was ridiculously hot, and I was rocking a pair of super short shorts and a low-cut tank top.
I thought I’d be safe enough in the back, but boy, was I wrong.
The inside of the hulking black SUV felt like a sealed-off prison of silence.
Steve mostly kept his eyes on the road, but I caught him watching me in the rearview mirror.
Our gazes locked in the reflection.
It wasn’t the kind of look a grown man should be giving a young girl.
His gaze was heavy, loaded with blatant appraisal and possessiveness, sliding down the mirror, lingering on my bare legs and collarbones.
I stiffened, a wave of unease washing over me.
I instinctively shrunk back against the door, tugging at the hem of my shorts, trying to cover more skin.
But every time the car swerved or hit a bump, my breast would bounce.
And each time, Steve’s gaze in the rearview mirror would darken.
His intense stare made my heart pound. I quickly averted my eyes, staring out the window at the blur of trees rushing by.
When we arrived at the stables, the staff had prepped a docile little pony for me.
But just as I was about to mount, a massive, pure black Friesian stallion next to us suddenly reared up, kicking and whinnying wildly.
I paled, shrieking as I stumbled backward, about to be kicked.
Steve strode over, wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, and pulled me hard against his chest.
He told the staff, “It’s too dangerous for her to ride alone. She’ll ride with me.”
Mom was startled too, and quickly agreed with his suggestion.
I was led to Steve’s horse. A staff member showed me how to put my foot in the stirrup. I awkwardly clambered up, perched on the front of the saddle.
The scent of leather mixed with hay filled my nostrils.
Steve swung up behind me.
Because the saddle was so small, my hips were pressed flush against his legs.
Steve’s hard, bony pelvic bone dug into the most sensitive part of my butt crack through the thin fabric of my shorts.
He reached around me to take the reins, effectively trapping me in his arms.
The closeness and heat were overwhelming. Through my clothes, his body temperature burned against my spine like an iron.
“Relax,” he murmured in my ear, his voice low and steady. “Just go with the rhythm of the horse.”
As the horse began to trot, the violent up and down movement sent my body slamming backward.
Once, twice… and on the third unexpected, forceful impact, my blood ran cold.
I could clearly feel the monster between Steve’s legs, the one that was asleep, hardening, inflating, becoming larger at a terrifying speed.
Mom, on a chestnut mare beside us, looked graceful as she waved. “How’s it going? Fun, right?”
“Yeah… alright…” My voice was hoarse.
Oblivious, she urged her horse forward, and as I looked at Mom’s unsuspecting back, I froze.
But deep down, a hot, shameful wetness was already pooling inside me.
Just then, we reached a downhill curve, and the black horse suddenly bolted!
“Ah…!”
The violent impact made the huge thing thrust deep inside me.
I spasmed, a sticky, tearful moan uncontrollably escaped my lips.
The horse stopped short.
Mom, up ahead, sharply pulled back on the reins and turned, suspicion in her eyes as she looked at us, pressed close together. “Lila? What was that… sound?”
