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The sun was high over the Kent farm, pouring golden light across the rolling fields. You stood at the edge of the corral, clutching the fence rail, trying not to look as nervous as you felt. The horse in front of you was gorgeous; tall, glossy chestnut coat, mane braided neatly, but it was also a whole lot of muscle and power. And you? You were pretty sure you’d be lucky to stay on longer than three seconds.
Behind you, Clark leaned against the fence post, arms crossed over his chest. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off tan forearms that flexed every time he shifted. His Stetson shaded his blue eyes, but you could still feel the weight of his grin. “You’re starin’ at her like she’s fixin’ to bite ya,” he drawled, voice slow like honey.
“I’m not staring,” you said quickly, though you hadn’t moved your eyes off the horse. “I’m… assessing.”
Clark chuckled low, the sound vibrating right down your spine. “Assessin’, huh? Well, darlin’, she’s gentle as they come. You just gotta trust her.”
“Easy for you to say,” you muttered. “You look like you came out of the womb on horseback.”
He tipped his hat back, grin widening. “Somethin’ like that.” Then, softer: “C’mon now. I’ll be right here with you. Nothin’s gonna happen.” Before you could argue, his hands landed at your waist, warm and steady, guiding you toward the stirrup. The heat of his palms burned through your blouse, and your pulse skipped.
“Left foot here,” he instructed, tapping the stirrup with one finger. “Grab hold of the saddle horn. Swing up nice ‘n easy.” You obeyed, though not so gracefully. You gasped when you landed in the saddle, the horse shifting beneath you, muscles rolling like waves. Clark was instantly there, his hand on your thigh to steady you. “Easy. You’re alright.”
You peeked down at him, cheeks hot. “Not sure I’m cut out for this.”
“Course you are.” His smile was soft now, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Besides, you look good up there.”
Your heart gave a ridiculous little flip. “You’d say that no matter what.”
“Maybe.” He winked, then swung himself up behind you in one smooth motion, the saddle creaking under the weight of both of you. Suddenly, he was everywhere, broad chest pressed to your back, the solid heat of his thighs bracketing yours, his breath ghosting over your ear.
“Now,” he murmured, reaching around to adjust your grip on the reins, his fingers curling over yours, “you don’t gotta wrestle her. Just guide her gentle. She’ll follow.” You tried to focus on the horse, you really did, but Clark’s voice was deep and smooth against your skin, distracting in the worst way.
“Relax your thighs,” he whispered. “Let yourself move with her.” You shifted, and the motion had your back sliding against his chest, your ass brushing the front of his jeans. Clark inhaled sharply through his nose.
“Good girl,” he praised, voice low and rougher now. “See? Told you you’d take to it easy.”
The horse began a slow walk, and you found yourself smiling despite the nerves. “Maybe I’m better at this than I thought.”
Clark dipped his head, the brim of his hat brushing your hair as he kissed just below your ear. “Darlin’, you’re a natural. Reckon you could ride me just as easy.”
Your face flashed hot, but you still laughed breathlessly, swatting at his arm. “Clark!”
“What?” he asked innocently, though his grin gave him away.
He shifted closer, his lips grazing along your jaw now, lazy and teasing. “Told you I’d be right here the whole time.” And you had to admit, with his hands guiding yours and his voice warm in your ear, it almost felt like you’d never fall. Clark sat snug behind you in the saddle, his voice was low and steady in your ear as the horse walked forward. “Don’t fight her,” he murmured, hands guiding yours on the reins. “Just move with her. That’s it, sweetheart.”
You tried to focus, but his hand slipped lower, resting boldly on your thigh. His thumb stroked slow, lazy circles, creeping higher with each shift of the horse’s gait. Every time your body swayed, your ass brushed against the front of his jeans, and Clark’s breath hitched hot against your neck. “Clark,” you warned softly, though it came out more like a gasp when his other hand left the reins to cup your breast through your blouse. His thumb brushed over your nipple, coaxing it to harden under the thin fabric.
“Relax,” he drawled, nipping lightly at your earlobe. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with enjoyin’ the ride.”
“Pretty sure this isn’t what you meant when you said 'move with her, '” you muttered, shivering.
Clark chuckled low, the sound rumbling against your back. “Maybe not. But can you blame me? Got my gorgeous wife sittin’ in my lap, thighs tight around the saddle, bouncin’ just right… ” You tightened your grip on the reins, trying to keep control as heat spread through you. His big hand stayed firm on your breast, squeezing, fondling, while the other smoothed down your thigh again.
“You’re impossible,” you whispered. By the time Clark slowed the horse back to a stop, your thighs ached and your cheeks hurt from smiling. He’d kept you steady the whole ride, arms snug around you, voice guiding every move. And now that it was over, you almost wished he’d just keep you up there forever.
“You did good, darlin’,” Clark murmured against your temple, his lips brushing your skin under the brim of his hat. His voice was warm with pride, though the smirk tugging at his mouth was downright cocky.
“Pretty sure you did all the work,” you teased, breathless.
“Nah.” He slid off the saddle first, boots hitting the dirt with a soft thud. Turning back, he grinned up at you, hat tipped back. “You had the reins. I just… kept ya steady.” When he held his big hand out to help you down, you took it only to fumble, boot catching in the stirrup. You yelped, tumbling forward, but Clark caught you easily, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you tight against him.
“Careful now,” he chuckled, though his voice had dropped lower, rougher. “Can’t have my wife gettin’ hurt on my watch.”
You laughed against his chest, hands braced on his broad frame. “Guess I’m not a natural at dismounting.”
He shifted you until your back pressed against the corral fence, his hands settling heavy on your hips. “That’s alright,” he murmured, thumbs rubbing little circles into your waist. “Gives me an excuse to keep catchin’ ya.”
You tried to roll your eyes, but the look in his blue eyes had your stomach flipping. “Smooth one, Kent.”
“Honest.” He leaned down, the brim of his hat brushing your forehead. “You looked damn good up there. Belonged in that saddle.” His hands squeezed your hips, sliding down to fondle the swell of your ass, kneading shamelessly. “Got me thinkin’ I oughta buy you your own horse. Then we could go ridin’ together whenever we want.”
Heat flushed up your neck. “That sounds like more for you than me,” you teased, though your voice came out breathier than you’d meant.
Clark chuckled, deep and rough, one hand roaming up your side until his thumb stroked just under the curve of your breast. “Maybe. But admit it, you liked it.”
Your lips parted, but before you could answer, he dipped down and kissed you, firm and hungry. His mouth moved against yours like he couldn’t get enough, like he’d been waiting all day just to taste you again. His hands roamed, one gripping your ass, the other sliding higher to cup your breast through your top, thumb brushing your nipple until you gasped into his mouth.
“Clark,” you whispered, pressing closer, heat pooling low in your belly.
“Hmm,” he hummed, pulling back just enough to grin at your flustered face.
You laughed softly, dazed, lips still tingling. “You’re terrible.”
He tipped his hat down, shadowing the wicked grin tugging his mouth. “Terrible in love with you.” And with his hands still fondling you shamelessly against the fence, you couldn’t exactly disagree.