Page 30 of A Sorrow of Truths
“You were mean to me. And you lied. I want my truths.”
The horse stops before he does, both her front feet leaving the floor as her body skits up into the air again. He chuckles, nothing more than that, and let’s go of the reins completely.
“What if the truths aren’t what you want to hear?”
“I’d rather that than lies, Gray. I don’t like liars.”
He nods and smiles weakly, stepping out of the space between me and the horse. “If you want your truths, Hannah, prove it.” His body turns away from me, his hand pointing at the horse. “Get on her and follow me back to the house.” Me? No. I’m not going anywhere near that crazy thing. My feet move backwards, hands gripping tighter to my arms. “She’s far less aggravated than I am. If you can handle her, I’ll give you your truths. I know what it’s like to need them.”
Oh.
Chapter 13
Gray
Iknew I shouldn’t have ridden this way. I should have avoided her for another few days, ignored Beatrice’s words of moving on and letting go. She’s as bad as Malachi in my head, causing untold problems for me to either accept or dismiss. And now I’m fascinated again, needful, tempted beyond sense or reason, irrespective of those sweatpants shrouding her small frame.
“I don’t have to prove a thing to you,” she calls from behind me.
She’s right. She doesn’t.
I wave my hand at her, wondering if she will follow. She doesn’t have to do a damn thing realistically. Two options. Get on Filigree and do as she’s told or break to the left and run for it. I smile at the thought and keep walking, amused that she might try. She could even do both. Ride like the wind to get herself away from me, my truths, and her confusion.
She won’t, but she could if she wanted to.
I can’t help but glance back after a while, part hopeful that she has run for it. She hasn’t. She’s stood about three feet out from Filigree, her body poised as if about to reach for the reins. The gates close down behind her, the mechanism spooking Filigree from her near calm stance. Hannah moves closer, gently crossing the ground to get to her. I can imagine the tone of her voice now, that seductive charm she likes to use to tempt me into her bidding.
More slow steps and she eventually picks the reins up and starts walking towards me, softly towing Filigree in her wake. I nod to myself at that and carry on, unsure what the hell I’m doing again. One look at her bitching on that floor, of seeing her attitude flying about again, and I was lost in desperation. Dinner, talking, relaxation rather than scattered points in time with no reason other than passion. It’s as if the ball out here in the real world, and then her seductive technique in my apartment, and my concern for her near death seem to bind me in something I can’t avoid or deny.
My feet stop, body fully turning, and I stare at her as she makes her way to me across the fields of heather that should be making me forget. She’s stroking Filigree’s neck, smiling and running her small hands over all that muscle and tension. Damn mare whinnies quietly, nuzzling Hannah as if soothed. Annoying. My own shoulders roll at the thought, memories of those same hands all over me causing a jealousy that’s unwarranted.
“What’s her name?” she asks, eventually coming to the side of me.
“Filigree.”
She smiles and runs her hands over her again. “What’s yours?”
“What?”
“This version of you that rides horses? I’ve not met him before.”
No, I don’t suppose she has.
I look her over again, unable to keep my gaze from something I know so intimately, and try to suppress the need to put her on the floor and fuck like we should be doing. Tempting. I chuckle and move in closer, damn sure it’s the only thing that might make all this easier.
Not entirely sure either of us need that, my damn hands pick her up swiftly so I can deposit her in a safer place. She gasps and goes rigid as her ass hits the saddle, every inch of her tense and nervous. “Gray, I don’t-"
“Pretend you’re riding me. Relax. It’s the same thing,” I cut in, walking slowly again. “Tease her into forward movement like you do with me.” The thought makes both me and my dick ache, and I watch on as she still stays rigid up there. “Softer, Hannah. You remember how to tease, don’t you? Make me come.” Her eyes fire to life at that, a determination setting in to them, and she loosens her hold on the reins she’s clutching. “Ride. Move your ass.”
“This is more like the Gray I’ve met before,” she mumbles, shuffling her weight around.
My smile widens, as Filigree takes a couple of steps sideways. “You move sideways, she’ll move sideways. Direct her.”
A small step forward, and another and another until I have to pick up the pace to keep up with them both. The sight of her up there, doing something I love doing so easily, confuses the whole damn situation more so than it already is. Beautiful. Appealing. Charming even in some southern way I hadn’t realised about my own heritage.
I frown the entire way across the fields, part beguiled by the thought of sharing this life with her, and part annoyed with the reality we’re in.
“So, truths,” she says, as we reach the white fencing that surrounds the house. She stares at the barns, easily turning Filigree where she wants to go, and then looks down at me as we head back towards the barns. I’m not ready for that yet. Nor do I want this damn heather beneath us. It’s a stain, an untruth no matter how fucking true it is. “What are they?”