Shaken, Not Stirred

The last few days have been difficult for sure. Zoey arrived with Bria

And it was only a matter of time before Bria

We both grimaced at each other and headed toward the great room to stop Hurricane Bria

There is no doubt in my mind that Casey could have wiped the floor with Bria

It was then I noticed Kip sitting on one of the leather couches, looking completely dismayed and frustrated with Bria

Bria

Yeah… fury rose and my hands fisted. But before I could even open my mouth to say anything, Woolf stormed past me and stalked right up to Bria

Woolf’s face was red and his eyes were glowing, yet his words were calm. He stared at Bria

Kip jumped up with a grateful look on his face, but Bria

Woolf merely sneered at Bria

Bria

Once Bri and Kip were gone from the house, I turned and looked at Woolf in amazement. It was the first time I caught a glimpse of the man he had actually become and for the first time since Dad died, I started to believe that Woolf might actually have something inside of him that could be strong enough to be a leader.

Woolf merely shrugged his shoulders and gave me a wry smile. “What can I say? I see the way you look at your woman. She’s already part of this family.”

I suppressed the insane urge that overcame me to hug my brother, instead giving him a grateful nod and headed off to find Casey to make sure she was all right.

And, of course, she was. She had amazing compassion, even for Bria

It takes me no time at all to get Whiskey saddled. He’s a calm, five-year-old gelding quarter horse that’s a gorgeous, pale buckskin with black stockings, tail, and mane.

“Hey stud,” I hear softly, turning to see Casey walking up toward me.

And what a fucking vision she is. I had brought her into Jackson day before yesterday and couldn’t resist buying her a pair of cowboy boots and a feminine, cream-colored Stetson. She’s wearing them both paired with a beautiful summer dress with little blue flowers all over it that flares wide and comes down to just above her knees. The cowgirl look is complete with two, long golden braids draped over her breasts.

“You’re up early,” I comment as my eyes drag down her again.

She shrugs her shoulders as she steps up to me, taking a hand and ru

“Yeah,” I tell her as I tighten the cinch. “Want to come with me?”

I can tell the idea interests her, but her eyes look at the horse warily. “I’m not so good around beasts that big. Present company excluded, of course.”

I snort, and she shoots me a wicked smile.

“You can ride with me,” I tell her. “You’ll be completely safe.”

She accepts that as truth and tentatively reaches out to stroke Whiskey on the neck. “Do I need to go get changed?”

“Nah,” I tell her, more for my benefit than hers. I’m very much looking forward to that skirt hiked up a bit and miles of glorious, bare leg draped over the horse. “I’ll put a blanket under you though. I don’t want anything rubbing the insides of your thighs raw but the beard on my face.”

“Dirty man,” she says with a low, sexy laugh.

It’s not easy mounting two people into a western saddle. Ordinarily, I’d plunk her on the back behind the saddle, but I know she won’t feel as secure and I don’t want her scared. So I use a mounting block to haul her up onto my lap, positioning an extra saddle blanket underneath her legs. As expected, her dress does indeed ride up but it’s so loose that it only comes to mid-thigh, which is fortuitous because there are tons of other ranch hands milling about and I don’t want them ogling my woman.

With an arm around her waist and the other holding the reins loosely, I let Whiskey walk slowly away from the barn and direct him over to one of the riding trails. With thousands and thousands of acres available, we have dozens of places we can go, but I decide to head toward a small lake we have on the property about two miles away. It’s private and secluded and this is the first time I’ve had a chance to be alone with Casey other than when we have fallen asleep at night in each other’s arms.

We ride in silence as Casey’s head roves back and forth to take in the scenery. She starts out sitting stiff but eventually the gentle rocking of Whiskey’s slow gait gets her to relax and she starts melting back into me. Her ass on my lap isn’t exactly helping me to relax though as she rubs against my half-hard cock.

“Are you nervous about the meeting tomorrow?” Casey asks out of the blue.

“Little bit,” I tell her honestly.

And I am, because tomorrow we meet with Dad’s attorneys and financial advisors to begin discussions on what will be needed from Woolf and I to help manage the Je