The Riding Master

The Riding Master by Alexandrea Weis

Book: The Riding Master by Alexandrea Weis Read Free Book Online
Authors: Alexandrea Weis
between the sheets of her brass bed. Her mind wandered ahead to her coming day at the stables, her lessons, and her meeting with Trent.
    All the time they had spent together on the phone had strengthened her connection to him. She was less apprehensive, but despite their intimate interlude, she worried exactly what would happen when she was alone with him.
    Slinking down in her bed as Frank’s snoring started up, she mulled over the idea of sex with Trent. It had been so long since she had been motivated to think about sex, and she recalled all of those girlish notions she had entertained before marrying Foster. What would it be like to be held in the arms of a man who was passionate, experienced, and interested in only pleasing her? Her mind raced with images of Trent’s firm ass in her hands, his thin lips on her neck, and his naked body rubbing against hers. As the pictures in her head grew even more erotic, her body began responding. Giggling at her arousal, Rayne rolled onto her side.
    “What in the hell is wrong with me?”
    Closing her eyes and willing sleep to take her until morning, Rayne already knew what her problem was. She only hoped the handsome Trent Newbury was the solution.

    Chapter 8
    Rayne arrived at the stables soon after sunrise, eager to take Bob out for an early trail ride before her classes. She was also anxious to see Trent, and decided a morning workout with her horse might help settle her restless nerves.
    As she took Bob through his paces on the trail, she practiced things she would say to Trent when she first saw him, trying to come up with opening lines that sounded seductive, sexy, and yet not too desperate.
    “Hey, did you have a productive meeting?” she mumbled while Bob’s ears swerved back, listening to the sound of her voice. “No, that’s terrible. A productive meeting sounds something like a productive cough. Ugh.”
    She loosened Bob’s reins as she rode along a narrow path toward the stables. “How about…hello, Trent. It’s really, really good to see you.” She shrunk down in her saddle. “Now I sound desperate. Who am I kidding? I am desperate.”
    Taking in the thick trees on either side of her, she admired the changing color of the leaves and how the gold and red on the branches gave way to waves of green. The dirt path below Bob’s hooves kicked up a wave of dust as a light breeze brushed past her face.
    “What do you think?” she asked the horse. “Should I be assertive or more laid back? You know, let him come to me?” She shook her head at memories of having the same conversation with her tall palomino, Jasper, when she had a crush on a boy from a neighboring school.
    “Here I am a grown woman and I still don’t know how to act around boys.” She observed how Bob’s ears jockeyed back and forth, attentively listening to her every word. “You ever have problems talking to women?” Rayne chuckled. “Yeah, I bet they’re all over you, huh, Bob?” She patted his sleek neck. “You’re the best looking guy in the barn.”
    As they came over a slight rise in the trail, she spotted the white jumping ring at the rear of the barn, and in the ring she saw the massive black gelding named Titan that belonged to Selene Kendrick. Over eighteen hands in height and with a temper to match his size, whenever Titan’s hooves pounded the ground, every nearby building shook.
    The black horse moved in and out of the particular gaits and intricate footwork required in dressage, but when Rayne saw a tall man emerge from the early morning shadows on the side of the ring, her interest perked up. She recognized Trent’s long legs and determined stride as he walked up to Titan and patted Selene’s shiny black boots as she sat atop the thick Morgan horse.
    “Son of a….” Rayne’s eyes stayed glued on the ring as she gently tapped Bob’s sides, urging him down the path. When the dirt trail meandered behind a thick clump of trees, blocking Rayne’s view, she kicked

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