Myrna’s body tautened beneath him, and he claimed her lips in a deep kiss to swallow her cry of release. When her shuddering subsided and her hands loosened their grip on his back, he drew away and stared down at her as he continued to fill her with slow, deep stroke after slow, deep stroke. He took his time finding release, oblivious to everything around him but the woman in his arms and the feelings she aroused in him.
When he came, he muffled a satisfied groan against Myrna’s sweat-damp throat, his body shuddering with the intensity of his ecstasy. The strength in his arms gave out and he collapsed on top of her, smiling in bliss when she wrapped him in her arms and pulled him even closer against her.
“I don’t think we were supposed to do that here,” Myrna whispered in his ear.
“My beautiful wife on a bed on the beach? Can’t think of any other possible result with that combination.”
“It was spectacular,” she murmured. “And we didn’t have to get sand in uncomfortable places.”
“This hotel rocks,” he said, and Myrna chuckled, which made her pussy do very wonderful things to his cock still buried inside.
“Remember when I said it would ruin my life if you laughed while I was making love to you?” he asked.
“Ruin your life? That’s a little overdramatic, sweetheart.”
“Well, I lied. That feels fucking amazing. Laugh as much as you want while I’m inside you.”
She laughed again, and his belly tightened involuntarily at the strangely exciting sensation. Oh God, he needed her to do that again.
“A cow and a priest walk into a bar,” he said. “The bartender says, ‘Why the long face?’ ”
Myrna burst out laughing, sending additional ripples of delight down the length of his cock.
“I don’t think there’s a priest in that joke,” she said. “And it’s a horse that has a long face, not a cow.”
“Oh.” He shrugged. “Whatever. Just keep laughing.”
“Speaking of horses,” she said, attempting to rise from beneath him. “What time is it?”
“Tickle time.”
Tickling resulted in the desired laughter, but she also squirmed and bucked her hips until he was no longer inside her. Bummer.
“We have to get going,” she said breathlessly when he gave her tortured ribs a break. “We have to be somewhere at noon.”
“Where?” he asked.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Well, if it’s only half as good as this surprise has been, I’m in for a treat.”
Less than an hour later, Brian found himself face to face with an enormous dapple gray horse. He had wondered why Myrna had made him put on shoes and had changed out of her skirt before they’d left the hotel.
“And I’m supposed to climb on this thing?” he asked Myrna, who was already astride a sleek black horse and waiting for Brian to find his balls. Balls that had apparently fled the scene when faced with riding an unpredictable ton of muscle, teeth and pelt.
“You don’t like horses?” she asked.
He didn’t have the heart to disappoint her after she’d gone to all the trouble to do something romantic for him, so onto the horse he climbed.
“I do like horses,” he lied. He’d never actually been on a horse. He had stroked one’s nose at a petting zoo as a child and almost lost a few fingers for his trouble, but he didn’t tell Myrna that.
His heart was thudding like a jackhammer, but he managed to offer Myrna a brave smile from his perch on the saddle.
“And I thought you looked sexy on a motorcycle,” Myrna purred, eyeing him in that way that always made his belly tighten. If she was looking at him like that, he was guaranteed to get some in the very near future.
They rode toward the beach, sand sucking at the horses’ hooves, but the animals seemed to be used to it. Myrna rode with confidence—she’d obviously done this before. Brian just tried not to fall to his death. He was positive that if he fell out of his saddle, the horse would use him as a doormat to wipe the sand from its hooves.
“What are you doing back there?” Myrna called over her shoulder. “Come up here beside me so we can talk.”
Brian bounced in his saddle slightly, having no idea how to get the horse to go faster. It wasn’t like it had an accelerator. “Um, yeah, I’ll get right on that,” he muttered under his breath.
Myrna tugged the reins to pull her horse to a halt and waited for Brian to catch up.
“You don’t look like you’re enjoying this,” Myrna said.
“I’m trying to.”
“Have you ever been on a horse?”
“Not exactly, no,” he admitted.
“Why didn’t you tell the guide that when he asked?”
“Because he if he’d known, he would have tagged along, and I wanted to be alone with you.”
She tilted her head and shook it slightly, a tender smile curving her pouty lips upward. “Do you know how hard it is to get mad at you?”
“Why would you be mad at me?”
“Because you lied and put your life in danger.”
“I didn’t lie,” he said defensively. His horse shifted, and he slid sideways in the saddle. He yanked the reins to keep himself from falling, and the horse tossed its gigantic head in protest.
“Yes, you did. The guide asked if you had any experience riding, and you said you had tons of experience.”
“He didn’t say riding a horse, he said riding. I’ve taken a lot of rides in my life. You should know, since you’re my favorite mount.”
She leaned over and smacked his arm. “Brian Sinclair, you are impossible.”
He chuckled. “You know you like it.”
She glowered at him.
“Now show me how to work this thing before I fall off and break my neck.”
She gave him basic instructions on stopping and going, on turning, and on how to use the stirrups to distribute his weight rather than yanking on the reins as if they were a lifeline. Soon he was brave enough to urge the horse into a canter. And he was even having fun.
“Where did you learn to ride?” he asked Myrna.
“Oh…” she said, looking taken aback by his question. She tucked a stray strand of auburn hair behind her ear and avoided his gaze. “Farm-girl requirement.”
He knew her well enough to know when she was hiding something from him. “Are you sure there isn’t more to it than that?”