Читать книгу Passion - P.F. Kozak - Страница 8

With uneasiness and considerable embarrassment, I returned for the third session, only because I told Ivan I would. I already decided that I would thank him for his time and effort and then jack in the lessons. The longer I prolonged this fantasy, the harder it would be to end it.

When I came into the stable, I saw Nutmeg standing outside her stall, but I didn’t see Ivan. “Hello, is anyone about?” I certainly had no intention of being left alone with Nutmeg.

“Hello, there. I’m back here.” I heard Ivan’s voice coming from the tack room. “I won’t be long.”

He came out a few minutes later carrying a saddle much bigger than the one we used last week. I had to ask, “Why is that saddle so big?”

“Because, my dear, we are going to have a special lesson.”

My heart fluttered. “Special how?” I couldn’t take much more of this. I wanted to run back to my car and leave.

“You’ll see.” With some effort, he hoisted the saddle onto Nutmeg’s back. His arms looked as though they would pop the seams of his black T-shirt. I tried not to stare, but, my word, that shirt stretched across his back like a panther’s coat. His muscles visibly rippled with the exertion.

I felt a trickle of perspiration run between my breasts. Another trickle itched between my legs that had nothing to do with perspiration. “It is a bit warm today, isn’t it?”

“It surely is. I could use a pint of cold ale after being in the tack room.” He buckled the saddle and adjusted the length of the stirrups. “Come. Let me help you get on.”

“Ivan, I am so sorry. I don’t think I can do this. Perhaps I should—”

“Of course you can do it,” he said before I could finish my quitting speech. “It is perfectly simple once you get onto it.” He took my hand and led me over to Nutmeg.

“If you say so.” Perhaps I could wait until after the lesson to quit. I put my foot into the stirrup. This time Ivan held me around my waist and helped me on.

“Slowly now, lower yourself slowly.” He put his hand under my bum. “Feel my hand? Lower yourself on my hand.” I felt his hand, all right. I wanted to rub against it! Ivan didn’t slide his hand out from under my bum until I sat fully on the saddle.

“Now I’m going to show you how to properly ride. Slide forward a little.” He pushed my bum from behind, sliding me forward in the saddle. Then, hell’s bells! He got on behind me!

I had no choice but to lean against him. “So sorry about the damp shirt. We haven’t used this saddle for some time. I had to unearth it.” He leaned in close to my ear. “As you can tell, I did get very warm in there.”

“I don’t mind it, really.” I could already feel his shirt soaking through mine. The very idea that he held me that close made me even more unsteady. I clutched the reins with both hands. He put his arms around me and took the reins.

“Relax, Passion. Hold on to me, I won’t let you fall.” He somehow got that horse to move and we rode out of the stable.

A sheet of paper couldn’t have slid between us, we sat so close together. With his hands over mine, he showed me how to hold the reins. He leaned down very close to my ear again and said, “Pash, feel how I’m controlling the horse with the reins. It is just like steering a car. You just use the reins to do it.” His breath on my neck gave me shivers.

As we rode along I studied his hairy forearms and followed them down to his hands. The Highwayman’s hands in my story last night looked like his, big and rugged. Everything about Ivan reminded me of my Highwayman. Putting the brakes on my imagination, I tried to concentrate on the lesson.

My attempt to focus shattered when Ivan held me tightly around the waist and said, “Put your hand on my thigh. I want you to feel how I use my muscles to send directional signals to Nutmeg.” I don’t know if Nutmeg felt the signals, but my libido certainly did. The feel of his arm under my breasts and his leg muscles tightening under my hand made my knickers as wet as his shirt.

We spent most of my lesson together on that horse, with Ivan showing me all sorts of things about how to ride. Clearly he knew what he was doing. I really did try to pay attention. This is what I had told myself I wanted, to learn about horses.

But being so close to him for so long, how the devil could I focus on a horse? We rode across the farm and back again. My word, leaning on his chest for more than an hour and touching him as I did excited me terribly! Blooming brilliant, it was! What’s more, I could feel him rubbing against my back. His privates felt like they looked—big and deliciously hard!

By the third lesson I had to do something to get to know Pash better, PDQ. If I didn’t turn it around this lesson, I doubted she would be back.

Digging around the tack room before her lesson, I found an old saddle meant for two people. By double riding with her, I could put my arms around her while holding the reins.

It worked out even better than I anticipated. Two of us on that saddle made for a bloody tight fit, which pressed her up against my chest and put the top of her head at just about my chin.

Trying not to let the intoxicating smell of her hair distract me, I started the lesson. I told her to relax and allow the rhythm of the horse to dictate body posture. This makes the movement fluid and graceful. With my arms around her, it also caused the sides of her breasts to rub against my arms.

I showed her how to press her legs into the sides of the horse so that the musculature between human and animal blends. Of course, the demonstration required she put her hand on my upper thigh to feel the muscles move. After all, I told her, when the rider feels how the horse is reacting, it becomes a seamless motion to send muscle-controlled signals to the animal about how to move and when. With time, the human and the horse learn to anticipate the movements of the other.

Nutmeg sauntered along a shady dirt road that runs through the farm. We were quite alone. When she put her hand on my thigh, my cock let me know how much I needed some.

Her breasts rested on my forearm. I allowed myself to rock with the horse so the soft flesh pressed into my arm with every step. I thought about touching her up while on the horse, but didn’t want to risk scaring her off.

So, I had actually managed to sound totally professional through the whole lesson, while nursing a stonker!

I had to get this bit of totty in the sack before she drove me barking mad!

By the time Ivan lifted me down off the saddle, I had steam coming out of my ears. To be so close to him for so long gave me heart palpitations. He had such control and confidence on that horse, I never wanted that ride to end. When it did, I figured that was that! I had my peek at being up close and personal with him. Now I had to leave my lessons, and my fantasy about him. I only hoped I could manage it without tears.

Just as I meant to recite my quitting speech, the impossible happened: he asked me out to dinner. I could hardly believe my ears. I heard myself say, “Yes!” then wondered if I had shouted it at him; it sounded so loud to me. I repeated my answer—“Yes, indeed, I would be delighted”—hoping I sounded more natural.

He smiled and said, “Splendid.” We agreed to meet in town the next day and decide where to go. Then he offered to walk me to my car.

With the riding lesson near completion, I noted Pash seemed to have no qualms whatsoever about having me so close to her for so long. In fact, I think she rather enjoyed the extra attention.

I hadn’t deliberately meant to, but I came damn close to getting off with her on that horse. It took all the control I could manage to be professional while riding with her. Everything in me wanted to slide my hand under her shirt and feel her up.

She gave me no indication one way or another about how she felt about what happened. So, hoping for a bit of luck, I took a chance.

As she gathered herself together to leave, I asked if she would like to have dinner with me. I think I startled her with my question because she jumped and blurted out, “Yes,” rather like I had poked her with a pin and she meant to say, “Ouch!” Then she more calmly said, “Yes, indeed, I would be delighted.” So, we set ourselves a date for the next night, agreeing to meet in town.

I walked her to her car and opened the door for her. Before she could get inside, I pulled her close and whispered in her ear, “I’m looking forward to tomorrow.” Then I kissed her, a simple good-bye kiss, but enough to give her something to think about. Reluctantly, I let her get into her car and leave.

The next day I remembered I had public library books overdue. I went to return them early that afternoon. When I did, I saw Ivan sitting alone at a table in the corner. It would be difficult to miss him, considering how striking he is.

Standing there watching him, I thought about our riding together and about the way he kissed me good-bye. He had pressed himself into me as he held me, enough that I knew his arousal had not gone away. My imagination had not invented that erection!

I suddenly realized I had been staring directly at him, hugging my books to myself like a silly schoolgirl. I returned my books, paid my overdue fine and looked in his direction again. He still seemed engrossed in whatever book he had, so I decided I would take the initiative to say hello.

As I came closer to his table, I noticed he had been taking notes. I wondered what in the world he could be doing. When I saw him intently reading a book of Yeats poetry, with several other poetry books stacked in front of him, I felt more than a little bit confounded. He picked just that moment to look up, I guess sensing someone standing beside him. He gave me that turn me into melted butter smile and said, “Well, hello there!”

Just when I needed them, my language skills failed me. All I could get out was a thin “Hi.” I felt flustered and more than a little confused. I know Ivan noticed the bewildered look on my face, because before I could say anything else, he volunteered an explanation.

“I teach English literature at University of Northampton and have to update my lesson plans for the fall semester. I come back here to work with Steve at the stable for a break during the summer.” He held up one of the poetry books as he said, “But I still have to keep up with my real job. Otherwise it will get away from me and I will be swamped with work at the end of the summer.”

If I had found Ivan attractive before, the meter had just shot through the roof! I could see his amusement at my reaction, but I couldn’t help being surprised. He paused, waiting for me to say something. I put my hand on the back of the chair next to him to steady myself, and said the only thought that came to me. “I had no idea!”

Thankfully he asked me a question that helped me to focus my thoughts. “What do you do when you aren’t taking riding lessons?”

“I am a writer.” Given my tongue-tied disposition around him, I wasn’t sure he believed me. “I have been doing some research for my next book and forgot to return some materials I borrowed.” At least now he knew I hadn’t followed him to the library!

The way he looked at me, I thought I had lipstick on my teeth. I ran my tongue over my front teeth, just in case. Then he asked, “Do you like to dance?”

“I truly do,” I told him. I knew something had changed because instead of meeting in town, he asked for my address to pick me up. We were going someplace posh. And, much to my surprise, he gave me another kiss as he left to do some errands.

The day of our date was in fact my day off. I decided to go to the library and work on lesson plans for the fall. But I also had another reason for going. I intended to do a little digging. I wanted to know what my latest student wrote.

I checked Miss Passion’s registration form to get a last name. She signed it P.F. Platonov. She had two books in print under her name, The Search: Finding Soul in the Postmodern Age, and another called Sagacity.

Well, she sounded heady, but could she give good head? I almost laughed out loud at that as I looked for her books. The library had them, but they were both checked out. Seemed I took that about as far as I could. I wrote down the titles and on my way to the poetry section, I asked the librarian to reserve them for me when they came back in.

While debating about what poetry books to take out, I saw Pash come in. I smiled, thinking, Kismet! I waited to see if she spotted me. She returned some books and then came over to where I sat. She seemed surprised to see me and even more surprised to see the stack of poetry books sitting in front of me. I offered an unsolicited answer to her obvious question.

I couldn’t help but be a bit slighted by her reaction; she was evidently amazed I could even read, let alone teach. It had been a long while since anyone had seen me as anything less than a professor. I reminded myself she could well have an inaccurate first impression, having met me in a frigging barn!

So, I asked, “What do you do when you aren’t taking riding lessons?” Just to see what she would say. She told me that she earned her living writing. I winked at her and said, “It seems we have more in common than what we first knew.” As I enjoyed the flustered blush I saw creeping up her neck, an idea came to me.

“Do you like to dance?”

She said, “I truly do.”

“Good, because the place we are going for dinner also has dancing. Oh, yes, and dress up—it’s posh.”

Of course, I had just decided to up the ante, but she didn’t know that. Steve had told me about a place close by, a very romantic restaurant in an inn. They offered an atmospheric candlelight dinner and dancing, with the maître d’ most amenable to supplying a room key for dessert. They just added it all together on one tab. I wanted to give it to her so badly. Perhaps dinner and dancing would get me into her pants.

With that scheme in mind, I asked her, “Why don’t you write down your address and phone number? I will pick you up about seven, if that is acceptable?”

“That would be lovely. Thank you.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I have a few errands to run if we are having ourselves a posh night out.” I gathered my books. I kissed her again, this time as an appetizer for our evening. “I’ll see you later.”

Making sure my credit cards and mobile were in my pocket, I went outside to make the call. I wanted to make reservations, with the intention of asking about the full-service dinner plan.

I had no problem making a reservation for that night. I supposed they weren’t very busy on Wednesdays. I actually did have a few errands to run, which included picking up a pair of shoes I had left to be reheeled.

As I walked toward the shoe shop, I still felt the remnants of a sting from her reaction when she realized I didn’t work in a stable for a living. I thought I had finally gotten past being poor and uneducated. So why did it bother me so damn much that she took me for a farmhand?

So he wanted posh. As I looked through my cupboard, I saw professional, I saw formal, I saw casual, but I didn’t see posh. I also didn’t see sexy. He had only ever seen me in jeans. Cripe’s sake, here I am hoping I gave him a hard-on and he has never even seen me in a dress!

Well, I had to find something in there. I didn’t have time to shop for a new dress. He would be here to pick me up in a couple of hours. I still had to have a shower and do my hair.

Then I saw the edge of a garment bag tucked way back in the corner. I pulled it out, laid it on the bed and unzipped it. I gently lifted out a calf-length, red chiffon cocktail dress, being careful not to snag it on the zipper of the bag. I had only worn this dress once, to a party last summer. I kept it, thinking I would wear it somewhere, sometime. It seemed the time had come.

As I got dressed I thought about how I had turned into a bit of a recluse over the last months, and a celibate one to boot. That’s when I thought to find my cervical cap, just in case.

I took one final look at myself in the mirror. I said to my reflection, “Well, this is a fine kettle of fish! What the bleeding devil have you done?” I answered my own question, “It’s a proper mess! I take riding lessons and fall for a gorgeous, horse-training professor who really rings my chimes. I’m a right one, all right!”

The wall clock read ten minutes until seven. Bugger it! Now I had time to work up a sweat before Ivan picked me up. Think cool thoughts, lemonade, ice cream, Ivan bending over to cut the twine, Ivan putting the saddle on Nutmeg. Oops, those weren’t cool thoughts! How could he be so good-looking and be an English professor?

The English professors I had at university, and I had more than a few, were usually short, balding and paunchy. Except for one, who did have the height, the hair and the looks, and also a reputation for being a queen extraordinaire.

Well, professor, I am ready for you tonight. I am not a dippy Judy, even though I’ve given you every reason to think I am. I am going to be calm, cool and chic. I glanced in the mirror again. Sweat beads glistened on my upper lip.

After showering, I shaved, clipped my whiskers and put on the best suit I brought with me. Even though they really didn’t need it, I buffed my shoes again.

I hoped to slip out without Steve noticing. If he thought I really wanted Pash, he would move in on her. We’d done that to each other for years. Don’t ask me why. Neither of us ever had a problem getting some action when we really wanted it.

We really got into it a few times over women, with my having bloodied his nose at least twice. He managed to knock the wind out of me on those occasions, once giving me a black eye. I had an edge on him physically and could take him. He knew it, but the crazy son of a bitch didn’t care.

Lately I didn’t tell him much about what I did. His sarcastic remarks about my love life didn’t sit well with me. I hoped to avoid this whole business with Pash. But as I came down the stairs, I heard a catcall from below. “Going somewhere, guv’nor?” he said, blocking my path at the bottom of the staircase.

“I have an appointment,” I said, hoping that would be the end of it. I should have known better.

He pushed up my sleeve. “Must be a posh one—cuff links and all.” His tone irritated me more than usual. “Wouldn’t happen to be with that red-haired bit of fluff, now, would it? I saw you yesterday making time with the little luv on that horse. You know my insurance doesn’t allow double riding anymore.”

“Sod off. She didn’t fall, now, did she, mate? I had hold of her, good and tight.” I knew if I didn’t cut him off, I would be late. I pushed him aside. “Bloody well don’t wait up for me.” With that, I headed for the car.

I heard him yell after me, “The horses aren’t the only ones getting their oats tonight!” I ignored the rotter as I double-checked to make sure I had condoms in my breast pocket. Then I started out to pick up Pash.