Riding Lessons [1]

Every man has a tell, that’s what mama always said, and damn if she wasn’t right. Dick Mulligan is eyeing her up and down from the other end of the midway like he’s a predator, and she’s his prey. She knows she cleans up good, even if she’s playing some dumb city girl, and she can wrap these big, strong cowboys around her little finger with just a bat of her lashes and a nibble of her bottom lip. 

Juniper Rainbow-Raven Willow, once called Wren, once called Maybelle, smiles to herself and ignores him, like he isn’t the man she came here to see, like he isn’t making his way over to her right now, shoulders thrown back and chest puffed out, strutting like a red rooster. Instead, she leans back against the wall of the booth, surveying her domain, looking at every man in a ten gallon hat and faded blue jeans, until he’s right in front of her, thumbs nocked in his pockets, fingers unconsciously pointing down at the impressive bulge outlined by his tight denim jeans. 

Dick Mulligan clears his throat like he’s suddenly shy, though they both know he’s no such thing. Juniper’s mama always said, Make him work for it. And she intends to, though whatever Dick thinks he’ll get out of the bargain is negligible. If Juniper plays her cards right, she’ll have that prize money burning a hole in her pocket all the way to Ellie and a new life, and as for Dick… 

“Can I help you?” Dick has a deep, rich baritone that rumbles through his chest, and Juniper looks up from under her lashes, as though he hasn’t already undressed her a thousand times with those steel gray eyes. “Didn’t you come here with them Oakley boys, darlin’? You lost?”

She bites her bottom lip, playing with the hem of her short skirt, his eyes on the creamy expanse of her thighs and the slight peaking of her nipples as the breeze picks up. “No, sir.” Juniper raises her chin, meeting his gaze full on, and a shiver runs right down her spine. “I’m right where I ought to be. This is where we sign up to place our bets, right?”

Dick runs a hand over his chin, his eyes lighting up with sudden interest. Here’s a man who likes a challenge, and not just in bed. He’s dangerous, a tiny voice whispers in her ear. But she ignores it. “You don’t strike me as the gamblin’ sort, darlin’.” What kind of sort she strikes him as is easy enough to guess. With her curls falling down her back, she’s the epitome of wholesome innocence. 

“I only bet on the one person guaranteed to win — myself.” Juniper fixes him with a saucy wink, hand on one hip. Wholesome innocence be damned, she’s the trick pony in this one horse town. 

Dick’s eyebrows nearly disappear under the shadow of his hat at that. He leans back against the fence, studying her with such thorough scrutiny that she can feel her cheeks start to heat. “That so? I thought Oakley was ridin’.” 

Juniper shrugs, giving him a long look from under her lashes as she twists one curl around her fingers. His breath catches, and he goes completely still when she drops her gaze, and then meets his again. “He got hurt tryin’ to impress me. Jumped off the Ferris Wheel and sprained his ankle.” Last time she saw him, he was swearing a blue streak and getting his ankle iced. Sawyer would never approve of this, but then, she’s not doing it for him. “So I’m riding in the rodeo, and I bet on myself.” The odds are long, but you can’t win without a trick or two up your sleeve, just like Opal Mae always said. Dick is still studying her, as though she’s become infinitely more mysterious. “What?”

“I can’t blame him for tryin’ to impress a girl, not one as pretty as you,” Dick grins, giving her a lazy glance of appreciation, his eyes moving up and down her body. “I’m bettin’ on myself, too. ‘Course, the odds on me are five to one, so when I win this thing…”

“And what makes you think you’ll win, cowboy?” she bites her bottom lip, playing with it between her teeth and flicks her gaze up, holding his eyes for a beat too long. There’s a pulse between them, and then he’s so close that her heart rate speeds up; the very scent of him, bay rum and pine, making her go weak at the knees. 

“Because I’m the best,” he drawls, lifting a strand of her golden hair and wrapping it around his fingertip, his voice dropping a few octaves to a husky growl that sends a shiver down her spine. “Do you even know how to ride, Goldilocks?” 

Juniper lets out a warm, sinfully  silky chuckle that has brought lesser men than Dick Mulligan to their knees, and flicks one of the silver buttons on Dick’s chest, hearing him intake a sudden, ragged breath. She licks her bottom lip, feeling his eyes on her mouth. If he moves any closer she’ll surely combust. “Hard and fast, cowboy.” 

Dick grabs her fingers in his hand as they brush his belt buckle, his eyes dark. He leans in, about to do or say something, but he stills when Asha bustles up to them, clipboard in hand. The moment between them stretches, broken only when Asha coughs delicately. 

“Juniper! What’s this I hear about Sawyer gettin’ hurt?” Asha tugs on her arm, and Juniper allows herself to be led away, feeling Dick’s fingers brush against hers, igniting a spark that’s sure to burn down the whole fair, hell, the whole town. 

Juniper twirls a lock of hair, aware of Dick’s eyes burning a hole into her back. “He sprained his ankle. It’s swollen up like a melon. I wanted to…” she allows herself an angelic smile that turns wholly devilish when she sneaks a glance back at Dick. “Ride in his place.” 

Asha looks at Juniper, then down at her clipboard. “I don’t think…” 

“Let the little lady ride if she wants to.” Dick chuckles in amusement. “I’ll give her some pointers. Ain’t that right, darlin’?” 

Asha’s nostrils flare. “She doesn’t need help from you, you piece of –“

“Careful there, Ms Roanhorse. We wouldn’t want anyone to think you had a preference.” Dick’s hand rests proprietarily on Juniper’s lower back, and she can feel the heat of it burning through the cheap cotton, making her wonder for a brief moment what it would feel like on her bare skin. “You want me to show you how to ride, little lady?” 

“Hard and fast,” Juniper whispers under her breath. 

Asha’s head whips up. “Sorry?” She pulls Juniper aside. “You sure you didn’t hit your head? I’ve heard stories about him, he knocked up some buckle bunny in Billings, and…  Well, he’s just bad news, through an’ through.” Asha shakes her head, as though the worst thing in the world is for a man to knock up a woman and not marry her, as if Juniper didn’t have it all figured out by the time she was sixteen, as if… “…You want me to come? I wouldn’t want you to get yourself into trouble…” Asha’s bottle-green eyes search Juniper’s face. She’s a kind woman, Asha, but Juniper can’t give Asha the kind of gentle love she so obviously yearns for. She left that gentle girl behind her long ago. “Honey, he’s a real bad man.” 

Juniper sneaks a look back at Dick. He’s cupping his hand to light a cigarette, his eyes on the two women with their heads bent together. A real bad man. Well, she’s a real bad girl. If Asha knew the half of it, she wouldn’t be warning Juniper off. She wouldn’t even want to know Juniper at all. “I think I can handle myself.” 

Asha squeezes Juniper’s bare shoulder. “If you need help, you just holler.” 

“Asha Roanhorse! We need your help down by the 4H pens!” A very pregnant, very blonde woman with apple cheeks waddles up, distracting Asha. “We got an escaped goat, and…” 

“You’ll be hollerin’, all right.” Juniper lets out the breath she didn’t know she was holding when Dick’s lips brush against her ear, a husky timbre in his voice that makes her shiver all over. “You ready, Goldilocks?” 

Juniper looks up at Dick, feeling a girlish blush heat her cheeks. “Only if you’re fixin’ to show me, cowboy.” That damn Georgia drawl, thick as molasses, slips out when she least expects it, and Dick’s gray eyes flicker in surprise. “Where are we headed?” Back to Boston proper, like she didn’t grow up moving from place to place, like she wasn’t born looking over her shoulder, moving from town to town, from carnival to carnival, until that last night, a ringing in her ears and hot sticky blood all over the knife. After that, she’d hopped on a train and never looked back, except for that childish promise, bound by blood and guilt: 

One day I will be back for you, and I’ll sing like a thrush outside your window, three high notes and three low. You’ll grab your things and we’ll run, to the ends of the earth and beyond; and we won’t never stop running, not until we stand on the edge of the world, ready to leap off into the unknown. 

She’d thought she knew it all then, that she’d never make the same mistakes her mama made, no siree. And she’s been so careful not to slip up, not to let herself fall. But standing here, in front of this man, she knows why her mama took her aside when she was just fifteen, back when she still swore she’d never be as wild as Opal Mae, back when she thought she’d still have a chance to be somebody else, other than what she was. 

Stay away from the dangerous ones. I don’t care if he lights you up inside like a Roman candle on the Fourth of July, baby girl. You play with fire and you’re like to get burned. 

“Wherever you want, darlin’. You ready to show me what you got?” Dick tugs on one of her curls, twirling it around his finger. “Goldilocks,” he murmurs, he’s close enough that she can smell him, sweat and leather and hay, and warmth pools deep in her lower belly unexpectedly, hot and slick. 

“I got what it takes, cowboy.” Juniper stands on tiptoe to purr into his ear, and from the look in his eye she can tell all thoughts of her slip up have flown from his head. 

“Let’s go.” Dick clears his throat, and then he’s guiding her through the crowd, fingertips brushing tantalizingly across her bare freckled shoulders, as if the minute he blinks she’ll disappear. 

•••

“This is ol’ Boss.” Dick points to the mechanical bull. They’re at the back of the carnival midway, behind the tents. “He ain’t exactly in operation, but I know a guy.” He runs a hand down the cracked leather of the bull’s back, then turns to Juniper. Before she knows what’s happening, he’s lifted her up and set her on the bull. “Show me what you got.” 

Dick swaggers across the space to flip the switch, and Juniper can’t help but admire the way his tight ass is accentuated by his jeans. Shit, girl. He feels her eyes on him, and levels a bold wink. Distracted, Juniper grabs for the pommel too late and then goes flying harmlessly onto the mats. “I wasn’t ready!” 

Dick comes to the rescue, taking Juniper’s hand and pulling her up so that her body is flush with his for a moment, her hands splayed on his chest. “I was just messin’ around. You ain’t hurt, are ya?” His hands are on her hips again, and this time when he places her on the bull, he gets up behind her, whispering in her ear, “You forgive me, Goldilocks?” 

Eyes on the prize. She’ll be free as a bird with that money. Just one more game, one more con, to grab Ellie Anne and head on up to Alaska. She won’t have to pretend to be who she isn’t, up there on the last frontier. She’ll shed Juniper Rainbow-Raven Willow like a rattlesnake sheds its skin, just like Wren, just like Maybelle. She closes her eyes for a moment, letting the sensation of Dick’s body pressed against hers flood her senses, then snaps back. “I can do this.” 

“Mmmhmm. I’m gonna show you everythin’ you need to know, Goldilocks.” Dick chuckles, deep and amused, as if she’s really the  wholesome innocent the Oakleys believe she is, the kind who doesn’t know the rules of the game. I was born to play it. “You got to start by squeezin’ the sides of your bull with your thighs, real tight.” 

Juniper wriggles her bottom against the juncture of Dick’s thighs, she hears his breath hitch in his throat. “Like this?” She moves his hands from her waist, down to her thighs. The cotton dress is rucked up, and she places his hands just where the hem skirts the very edge of modesty. His breathing quickens, beard brushing the nape of her neck. 

“Yep. Just like that.” Dick growls deep in his throat as she flexes her muscles under his grip, the calloused pads of his thumbs brushing her inner thighs. She grips the pommel, rocking back against him a little, she’s enjoying this far too much. “Now lean back against me and relax your upper body.” 

Juniper can’t relax. She thinks about the money, she thinks about just how far she’s been running, how far she still has to run. This is her biggest con yet, and if she can pull this off, she won’t have to run a con again for a long time. And maybe then, maybe then —

“Shit, you’re tense. Lean back against my chest, keep your thighs tight.” Dick sucks in a breath as she leans back against him, her neckline slipping to show off her cleavage. She couldn’t have planned it better. He groans, his hands tightening on her thighs. “Those are some mighty fine tits, Goldilocks.” 

Juniper swivels her head, she’s so close she could kiss him if she wanted. “Asha was right about you. You’re a bad man.” 

“And you’re a bad girl.” Dick’s low, husky voice send a dangerous thrill rippling through her, and Juniper inhales sharply as his hands glide up and down her thighs, she can feel her desire for him coiled hot and tight in her belly. “Does Oakley know how damn bad you are?” 

“You tell me,” Juniper breathes, playing with a curl. 

“I think you’re the kind of girl who can’t be told what to do. The kind who likes to run.” If only he knew. “The kind who don’t let just anyone catch her.” He groans as she wriggles her ass against his hard length, and then he’s back to business. “Now that bull, he’s gonna try to throw you off. So to hold on, you gotta do the opposite. When I lean left, you lean right. Can you show me how you do it in Montana?” 

“I’ll show you how we do it in Georgia, sugar,” Juniper drawls, thick as syrup. She grabs the pommel, pulling herself up, and hears Dick curse under his breath, as if he can’t believe his luck, right before she straddles him. “Is this how I ride the bull, cowboy?” 

Dick groans, his big hands sliding down her waist to cup her bottom. “Show me what you learned so far, Goldilocks.” His lips are so close to hers that it’s a wonder the world doesn’t ignite. 

“I keep my thighs tight ’round that bull,” Juniper coos, nocking two fingers between his abs and his belt buckle, and swinging her thighs over his. “And I hold on with one hand, and let my upper body relax. Is that right?” she licks her bottom lip, tongue darting out. His pupils are dark and blown out with lust, and when she rocks against his hard length, his fingers dig into her hipbones and he makes an incoherent noise of pure hunger that sends fire licking through her veins. “And then he’ll move one way and I’ll move the other…” she grinds against him, their hips bucking together, and Dick has one hand kneading her ass while the other cups one breast, teasing her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Juniper moans, breath catching in her throat, riding the wave of the sensation. She’s so close she can taste it. 

“If you ride for the judges the way you’re ridin’ for me, you’re gonna win that blue ribbon, Goldilocks,” Dick growls. 

She grabs his hat, placing it on her head, and grabs onto his belt buckle again. “I already have.” 

Their eyes lock, and his mouth crashes onto hers. Dick Mulligan tastes of tobacco and a hint of bourbon apple pie, he tastes of wild nights and the rodeo. Juniper rakes her nails through Dick’s russet hair, arching against him, every nerve ending lit up, never wanting it to end. She’s never had it happen like this before — the fire that burns in the belly, heart pounding like a drum as his tongue twines around hers, feeling like she’ll die if he doesn’t touch her bare skin just once tonight, and never ever wanting this — whatever this is — to end. Sure, she’s been with boys before, but they’ve never taken the time to get her going, not like Dick Mulligan, his fingertips setting off sparks of fire along her skin. She won’t let him know that though, after all, she’s not the kind of girl who tips her hand just like that. 

Dick pulls back, resting his forehead against hers. “You’re trouble.” His husky whisper makes Juniper take liberties, she moves his hand between her legs. She thinks she might die if this broad-shouldered rodeo cowboy doesn’t touch her there. His fingers brush against her panties, she’s sure they’re sopping wet from the way he starts kissing her again, hot and deep, his tongue thrusting into her mouth. 

Juniper makes a strangled noise as his thumb circles her engorged clit, it feels so damn good that she moans loudly, not caring who hears. “Cowboy… Fuck!” 

Dick bites her lower lip, dragging it between his teeth as he teases her, stroking his fingers up and down the damp satin. “Moan for me like that again, Goldilocks.” 

“Keep going, oh, oh, oh God, yes! Yes!” Juniper moans, and Dick’s fingers slip between her thigh and the elastic of her underwear, and then he’s swirling his fingers over her clit as she bucks against the hard length in his jeans, all the way to the expanse of that big sky above them. With a juddering cry, she feels herself go off and explode, his tongue deep in her mouth, the fingers of his other hand digging hard into her hip. 

“Juniper! Juniper, where are you?” She can hear Brooklynne’s voice, right on the edge of her conscious, and Juniper suddenly remembers where she is and who she’s pretending to be. 

“I think I got it.” Juniper pushes on Dick’s chest and he stares down at her, dazed. “Thanks for the riding lesson, cowboy.” 

“We ain’t done yet, Goldilocks.” His mouth brushes the side of her neck, nipping her, marking her, and she feels her body ignite like the fuse of a Roman candle, just like her mama always warned her. 

“We got some broncos to ride, or did you forget?” Juniper can’t resist. Fuck. She goes in for another kiss, Dick’s hands moving her hips as his hard length pulses between them, and they pull apart, both of them breathing hard, eyes locked in one another’s gaze like there’s a magnet pulling the two of them together. 

“Juniper!” Cliff’s voice. “Where you at, gal?” 

She pulls back, and Dick’s eyes narrow. He grabs her firmly by the waist, and as Cliff comes around the corner, gray brows rising to his hairline, Dick gives her a little slap on the ass, grabbing his hat back. 

“This fella botherin’ you, Juniper?” Cliff barks, glaring at Dick. 

And just like that, she’s back in character. “No, sir,” she drawls, looking back at Dick from under her lashes. He levels a wink at her from under the brim of his hat, and damn if she doesn’t want to slap that smug look off his handsome face. “He was just showing off.” 

“I still don’t like the idea of you riding a bronc.” Cliff pats her awkwardly on the shoulder. “If my damn fool son hadn’t been trying to impress a pretty girl, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” He clears his throat, lowering his voice to a whisper. “We’ll get the money some other way.” 

And let that cash slip through her fingers, just like that? Like she’s doing it for the Oakleys? “I’ve got this, Cliff. Don’t worry about me.” 

Cliff frowns. “That’s why I do worry. I know Sawyer would want you to be safe. That sunuvabitch Mulligan is bad news. I wouldn’t be surprised if he showed you all the wrong things, just to throw you off your game.” 

Nothing can throw her off her game, but what the old man doesn’t know won’t hurt him. “He was just demonstrating how to ride.”  

Dick shoulders Cliff aside as he brushes past them, leaning in to whisper in Juniper’s ear, “Hard and fast, darlin’, hard and fast.”