Every Second Counts (3 page)

Perfect. She needed to get her head out of that arena and back where it should be—between a sexy pair of legs.

“Where the hell is she?” Skyler Reese, director of the Cherokee Falls Young Equestrian Program, propped against the wall and eyed the luggage moving along the conveyor, while veterinarian Tory Greyson scanned the thinning crowd in the baggage claim area of the Richmond International Airport.

“I don’t know. But if she’s a no-show this time, she can rent a damn car to get back to Cherokee Falls,” Tory said. “I’m not rearranging my schedule a third time for her sorry ass.”

“You had to pick up that semen shipment anyway.”

Tory glanced down at the cooler protectively tucked between her feet. “I could have sent my intern to pick this up. Hell, it’s for breeding mares at your barn. I should’ve just let you pick it up.”

Skyler elbowed her. “Admit it. You can’t wait to see her either.”

They had been a gang of three as teens, the most promising riders at the Cherokee Falls Equestrian Center and the most likely to find trouble.

Often mistaken for sisters, Skyler and Tory were both tall and blond, with similar short, layered haircuts. Their eyes told their difference. Skyler’s were sepia-toned and brooding, Tory’s pine-forest-green and welcoming.

Their pasts were just as opposite.

Skyler came from an abusive home and rose to fame as a gold-medalist equestrian, only to be blacklisted from the eventing circuit for sleeping with the wrong woman. She re-established her career as a trainer and found her salvation in her partner, Jessica Parker-Reese, heiress to the equestrian center and Parker fortune that funded the program Skyler ran for troubled kids.

Tory grew up in a loving Catholic family and followed a traditional life path of attending college and veterinary school, and then establishing her own business. She had been the voice of reason in Skyler’s and Ryder’s schemes, the one who stepped aside when Jessica explained she could only be a friend because—like many of Tory’s past girlfriends—she’d fallen for Skyler. She had been the one to always forgive and forget. That was, until she met Leah Montgomery and found the voice to fight for what she wanted, who she needed.

Ryder was the latecomer to the group. Several years younger, she was dark-haired and more physically compact, gregarious, volatile and adventure-seeking. She was the one who’d wandered away from Cherokee Falls to find her fortune.

Yet, with all their differences, spending their formative years together had forged an unbreakable bond.

Tory scowled, then smiled and shook her head. “You’re right. It’s past time for the third Musketeer to come home.”

“Damn right. That’s exactly what I said when I called her and told her to get her ass back here.”

Tory was quiet for a minute. “I saw the YouTube clip of that bull goring and stomping her. Scared the hell out of me.”

“Yeah, me too, Tor.” Skyler narrowed her eyes. She strode quickly to the conveyor and snatched up a large black duffel embroidered with rodeo patches and red italic stitching that proclaimed, E
VERY
S
ECOND
C
OUNTS
.

“That’s her sponsor’s logo. It’s got to be her bag,” Tory said.

Skyler checked the identification tag attached to the handle by a length of braided rawhide. “Yep. It’s hers.” They resettled against the wall. “Doesn’t mean she got on the plane.”

They waited a few more minutes.

“Let’s go upstairs and see if they can confirm she was on board,” Tory said. “If she is here, she won’t be going anywhere without this.”

Skyler was about to agree when several loud thumps sounded. They turned to stare at the wall behind them. Silence. Skyler dismissed the noise with a shrug.

“We should try the VIP lounge. As much traveling as she does, she’s gotta be a member,” Tory said.

“Good idea. She’s probably up there, putting the moves on some woman while we wait down here. I’m gonna kill her.” Skyler bent to pick up the duffel and another noise filtered through the wall. This time it was a low moan, followed by “Yeah, babe.” A higher-pitched whimper answered. “Inside, I want you inside.” A pause, then a solid thump.

Damn, that wall was thin.

“I love how wet you get for me. Slides right in.”

Skyler blinked. That voice sounded strangely familiar.

“Wrap your legs around my hips. I can hold you up.”

“But your knee—”

“It’s fine. Just relax, babe, and enjoy the ride.”

“Oh, God. Oh, yeah. That’s right. Give me a fuck I won’t forget.”

Scuffling noises changed to the softer sound of something bumping gently against the wall in a steady cadence. Another whimper.

Skyler shook her head and motioned for Tory to follow. A sign forbade all except authorized personnel, but the door wasn’t locked. They slipped inside, closing it quietly behind them.

The long, wide hallway was empty and a door to their immediate left was marked
STORAGE
. Skyler took up sentry on one side of it and indicated for Tory to do the same on the other.

Wait
, Skyler mouthed silently.

*

Ryder dropped to one knee and impatiently ran her hands up Claire’s smooth thighs. She pushed the tight skirt up to Claire’s waist and growled. “I love a woman who doesn’t wear panty hose…or anything else underneath.”

Her mouth watered at the heady scent of Claire’s arousal, and she plunged her tongue into the neatly trimmed curls without ceremony. After all, they’d spent nearly the entire past week getting intimately acquainted with every part of each other’s body.

She had hoped for a restful, solitary plane ride from Dallas but didn’t protest when Claire announced that she’d managed to route her return trip to DC through Richmond so they could have a bit more time together. After a week of nonstop hot monkey sex, Ryder owed her that. Right?

The minute they lifted off that Dallas runway, Claire’s hand had found Ryder’s thigh, her long red nails scraping the inside seam of Ryder’s loose jeans and creeping under the hem of her baggy hoodie to grasp and stroke the dildo strapped to her hips. By the time they’d landed, Ryder was slick and hard and pulsing.

So she’d eagerly followed when Claire led her through the maze of interior corridors to this storage room and whispered, “One last ride, stud.”

Claire’s scent filling her nose and her juices coating her tongue, she stood and Claire dropped to
her
knees, fumbling to open Ryder’s jeans and slide them down her hips. Ryder was commando, too, except for the harness and dildo, and her thighs were dripping with her own arousal. Claire looked up and tongued the dildo. Ryder groaned. Claire slid her hand between Ryder’s rock-hard thighs and plunged her fingers into her, deep and hard.

“Yeah, babe.”

Claire tongued the dildo again but withdrew and stood. “Inside. I want you inside.”

Ryder pinned Claire against the wall and nudged her legs apart. She refused to acknowledge the pain that shot through her left leg as she bent her knees and pushed the full length of her cock in.

“I love how wet you get for me.” She lifted Claire’s thighs. “Wrap your legs around me. I can hold you up.”

“But your knee—”

“It’s fine. Just relax, babe, and enjoy the ride.”

“Oh, God. Oh, yeah. That’s right. Give me a fuck I won’t forget.”

She drew back and drove forward to set up a steady rhythm she knew would bring them both to a quick climax. Claire had a plane to catch and she had friends to meet. Ryder rolled her hips with each upward thrust to grind against Claire’s sex and rub the dildo’s base along her own hard clit. Claire’s arms tightened around her neck and her heels dug into Ryder’s butt as if she couldn’t get her deep enough, hard enough inside.

“That’s right, babe. Ride me good.”

“Oh, oh. I’m gonna come.”

Ryder groaned when Claire snaked one hand under the hoodie and found her breast. The hard, twisting pinch sent a jolt of electricity to her crotch. She gritted her teeth and fought to hold back her orgasm.

Claire’s whimpers turned into a keening whine and she arched against the wall. She shuddered through her climax, but before the tremors stopped, Ryder pulled out and spun her around.

“God, you’ve got a great ass.” She bit down on one smooth cheek, her teeth eliciting a surprised squeak. Then she pressed her chest against Claire’s back to bend her over and took Claire’s hands to place them against the wall. “Brace yourself, babe, this ride’s not over.”

She grabbed Claire’s hips and again plunged inside. This position was a lot easier on her injured leg and she drove her cock relentlessly, savoring the slap of her flesh against Claire’s ass.

“Oh, God.” Claire spread her legs wider and arched up to meet Ryder’s pumping hips. “Oh, God.”

Injured or not, Ryder’s legs were like steel bands and, as her orgasm gathered, her thrusts lifted Claire onto her toes with each stroke. She felt for Claire’s breast and squeezed the nipple hard. She couldn’t hold off this time, so she slid her fingers over Claire’s clit, stretched tight by the cock boring into her, and stroked it firmly. Claire clamped a hand over her own mouth and screamed her climax into it.

Ryder groaned and bucked through her orgasm. “Fuck, yeah. Oh, yeah.”

They panted for a long minute, Claire still bent over and Ryder pressed against her back. When their breathing slowed, Ryder pulled her cock free and Claire moaned with the movement.

Ryder glanced around at the surrounding shelves. Nothing but jugs of industrial cleaner. She pulled off her hoodie and tank top underneath, offering the soft undershirt to Claire to dry off a bit. But Claire shook her head and daintily pulled a mini-pack of wipes from her purse to clean up before straightening her skirt. Ryder shrugged and wiped the undershirt between her own legs and along the dildo before tugging her jeans up and slipping back into her hoodie. She rolled the sticky tank up and stuffed it into the hoodie’s pouch.

Claire glanced at her watch. “Damn, I’ve got to hurry or I’m going to miss my flight.”

“Yeah, and my friends are probably looking—” Ryder opened the door and bumped into a tall roadblock. “Oh, well, guess they found me.” She grinned up at Skyler. “Hey, guys. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

Claire glanced at the two women, then turned to Ryder. “I should be embarrassed, but I don’t have time.” She pulled her down for a long, tongue-filled kiss. “Thanks for an unforgettable week, stud. You’ve got my numbers if you’re ever in DC.” One last peck on the lips and she was sprinting down the corridor as fast as her three-inch heels would carry her.

Ryder grinned at Skyler and Tory, and shrugged. “That was Claire. She’s an FAA official.”

Tory tossed the black duffel into Ryder’s arms and arched an eyebrow.

“Would you believe we met when she strip-searched me in Dallas?” Ryder glanced down the hallway where Claire had disappeared. “She was, uh, the unexpected delay in my flight plans.”

“I’d believe just about anything where you’re concerned,” Skyler said, grabbing the shoulder of Ryder’s hoodie and dragging her toward the exit.

Tory’s nostrils flared and she wrinkled her nose. “Christ, you smell like a brothel. You’re not getting in my truck until we stop by a restroom and you stuff that thing you’re packing into your bag and wash up.”

Ryder laughed. “Still campaigning for the nunnery, huh, Tory?”

Damn, it was good to see them again. They fell back into their familiar roles as if they’d never been apart—Skyler the alpha, Ryder the restless, and Tory the pure-hearted, who was the glue that held the three of them together. “It’s okay. You two are getting up in age. I don’t mind handling the hot ones for ya.”

Skyler hooted and grabbed Ryder in a good-natured headlock. “I see that bull’s horn didn’t puncture your ego, half-pint.”

“Stop it, you Neanderthal.” Ryder extricated herself from Skyler’s grip. “I can’t believe you’re still calling me that. You guys are only a few inches taller than me.”

Skyler cocked her head at Tory. “What do you think? Should we let her test her skills on your Tennessee firecracker?”

Tory grinned at the mention of her feisty partner. “Now, that’s just mean. The kid’s already injured, Skyler. Leah would cut her to shreds.”

Ryder strutted between them. “Bring her on. No woman alive can resist the old Ryder charm.”

Skyler shoved her toward the restroom entrance. “You keep thinking that, half-pint. Tory and I will be around to pick you up when you find your ass in the dirt with seven seconds to go before the buzzer.”

A determined songster in a nearby tree and the scrape of Bridgette LeRoy’s charcoal pencil across her sketchpad were the only sounds as she worked to capture the antics of Sure Thing, a midnight-black Chincoteague pony, cavorting with a larger yearling in the pasture below her. The slightly overcast morning provided perfect lighting as she sat on the trunk of her car and observed the two colts in their mock battle over a herd of imaginary mares.

The larger colt clumsily half reared and pushed forward to knock Sure off-balance with his heavier weight. But the Chincoteague was fast and agile. He leapt to the side and reared high to plant his front hooves against his friend’s shoulder.

Bridgette drew quickly, ignoring detail to outline a panel of poses. She congratulated herself. She couldn’t wait to show Leah. This was good.

Her life was good. She’d been skeptical when her cousin, Cheryl, called her about a teaching position open at Earnhardt College. She had always been a world traveler, a vagabond artist, but had reached a point in her life where she needed something constant, something solid. So she applied for the job and discovered that she loved teaching budding artists.

When Bridgette moved to Cherokee Falls, Tory became her first friend, a friend with intimate benefits. The nature of their relationship changed, however, when Leah captured Tory’s heart. Although the sex between Tory and her had been hot and wonderful, Bridgette was fine giving that up for a more traditional friendship because she couldn’t offer her heart as Leah did.