Flash: Dismount

Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Rating: Mature

Charlotte gave old Rowan his head and together they chased the wind back to the homestead. Eight years at University, but she had a sheepskin on the wall declaring her a veterinarian. Still, far too long wrapped up in concrete and metal. She was a dirt, wind, and rain girl.

Breathing hard, the horse and rider team pulled up to the barn. CB, the foreman, had been watching their solo race and came over. Charlotte inspected him from high on the horse while he approached. He was a fine piece of man; years of ranch work defined every muscle and carved sun-wrinkles into his chiseled face. Pushing thirty-five to her twenty-seven, he had been a fixture at Double Bar T since her teen years. He hadn’t been around when she returned earlier in the week.

“Branding all done cowboy?”  Her broad smile welcomed his company.

“Yep,” CB patted Rowan’s neck, holding the old stallion steady while his boss’ daughter dismounted onto the fence. “Got a good calfing this year out on the edges. About half again last year.”

“That should help pay off some of my loans.”

One of the hands ran over and took the reins, walking the horse to cool it off. Freed, CB came over to where Charlotte sat. He craned his head slightly to watch her, a rare instance of looking up at her. “It’s my understanding, miss, you didn’t need no loans because of your scholarship and all.”

Charlotte took off her Stetson and swatted him on the shoulder. “Don’t contradict a lady. Have you learned nothing?”

A deep chuckle rumbled out of CB. “When I meet a lady, Miss Charlotte, I promise I won’t argue with her none.” He gripped her by the hips..

“Why you insolent…” Charlotte’s voice trailed off. Her hands initially steadying herself on his broad, strong shoulders clenched deep into firm muscles as CB pulled her closer. She had been expecting the typical lift and set down as they continued to banter.

Instead he first lifted her high, bringing her hips directly in contact with his chest. Holding her dead weight at an awkward angle, in a manner no city boy could ever hope to no matter how much gym time he had, CB then drew her down the length of his body effortlessly.  She felt every bump, muscle, and sinew as their bodies slid against each other.  Her nipples hardened and pushed against her plaid cotton shirt. His lips brushed them like a cloud’s touch tightening them further, begging to be sucked through the old fabric. He pressed her hips firmly against a significant bump just past his belt buckle and then her feet were on solid ground.

Fortunately CB did not let go immediately, as her ability to stand steady had been destroyed. She swayed into him, remembering for a moment her seduction using soap and water. She had initiated a physical relationship with him between her freshman and sophomore year. Every summer until she started the practice labs during the doctoral program, Charlotte had managed to wiggle her way back into his bed. Three years had put enough distance that she remembered the affair fondly, forgetting the fire they ignited in each other.

“Hey you, what do you think you are doing?” A new voice yelled across the corral.

Charlotte jumped guiltily away from CB. The huffing man, in new dark blue jeans and Western shirt still sporting its packing creases, closed the distance quickly. CB raised an eyebrow towards Charlotte.

“Justin, I don’t think you have met our foreman, CB McCarty. He was helping me down from the fence. CB, may I introduce you to Justin Emmet, my fiancé?” Charlotte bit her lip, her brown eyes clouded with worry.

(words 623 – first published 12/14/2013; republished in new blog format 6/3/2018)