The cacophony was giving her a headache. Normally, Devon would have quietly exited the party and headed home by now. The completion and naming of the champions of the latest Fédération Equestre Internationale, or FEI, event and the announcement of the short-list for the US Olympic equestrian team had been cause for celebration. Many of the participants had been partying since the afternoon and as the evening dragged on were becoming rowdier as their consumption of alcohol increased. Devon had only just arrived and only because it was expected of her. She’d made sure her appaloosa gelding, Dreamer, was bedded down for the night and ready for their long flight tomorrow to Auckland, New Zealand.
Devon and Dreamer weren’t part of the team per se but were part of the group that would be representing the United States at the upcoming Summer Games in the demonstration sport of reining. Reining had often been called western dressage. The horse and rider executed a series of specific maneuvers that included large and small circles, flying lead changes, 360-degree spins and sliding stops. She was thrilled to have been asked, but she wondered if inclusion in the Olympics would ever occur. There was resistance within the equine community, especially from the dressage riders. Reining had been a demonstration sport for more than twenty years.
The Aussie and Kiwi teams had been the big winners in the eventing division, dressage had gone to the Swiss and the Americans had managed to edge out the Canadians in stadium jumping. There were plenty of groupies of both sexes trying to make a connection with the winners and others who were more than happy to commiserate with those who had not done as well.
She watched as Ronin Gutherie, a member of the Kiwi eventing team and the overall winner for this event laughed, drank and fondled more than his share of female derrieres as he danced and drank the night away. Gutherie was interesting. He had the rugged good looks to be a male model, but was considered to be one of the best riders on the circuit. He was built more like a rugby player than a rider. He had a massive upper body that narrowed to a smaller waist and pelvis. His skin-tight breeches revealed well-muscled legs and often gave evidence to the rumor that he was more than well endowed. The latter rarely went un-noticed by the female members and fans of the sport. He had a few endorsement deals that always showed him shirtless or at least unbuttoned to show his amazing core muscles. He had dark, laughing eyes, close-cropped dark hair and a deep, heavily accented voice.
“Devon Cooper! Come join us,” he called to her.
She was surprised he knew her name. “Thanks, but I was just leaving.”
He extricated himself from the throng of women vying for his attention. “But you only just arrived. You have to stay. Do you dance?”
She laughed. “Like a giraffe on roller skates.”
“No way. I’ve seen you ride. Any woman with flexible hips, a great ass, and legs like yours has to be able to dance.”
He was charming and had an earthy sex appeal that normally she’d have found tempting. But tonight, he was just this side of drunk and way too full of himself and his most recent accomplishments.
“No, really. I’m sure one of these ladies will be more than happy to accommodate you. Won’t you, ladies?” she called to the gaggle of girls he’d left behind.
“But I want to dance with you,” he said stepping between her and the exit.
“And people in hell want ice water, but that don’t mean they get it,” she said with a little more bite than she’d intended.
She heard familiar laughter behind her. “Careful, Ronin. Devon can be a nasty piece of baggage when she’s in the wrong mood, can’t you, Dev?”
Now the headache was in full force. Two years ago, Devon had made the mistake of getting involved with Jake Campbell, one of the coaches of the US team. It had been all passion and fireworks until she walked in on him plowing a groupie he had bent over a hay bale. The resulting split had not been pretty.
“Fuck off, Jake.”
“I’d like to Dev, but you haven’t opened your legs for me, or for anyone else I suspect, in a while.”
“That’s enough, mate,” Ronin said angrily pushing his way between Devon and Jake.
“Thanks, Ronin, but I can handle Jake a lot better than he can handle his liquor.”
Before it could get really ugly, the head coach of the team stepped in and got Jake out of harm’s way.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” asked Gutherie.
“I’m fine. Thanks,” she said, turning to leave.
“No, you have to stay. You can’t leave me alone with these girls. My virtue could be compromised.”
She giggled and put her hand on his chest. “Is there any left to be compromised? Besides, I’m quite certain you’ll survive.”
The aforementioned girls joined Gutherie and tried to pull him back to the dance floor. He extricated himself from them and approached her once again. “Come on, Devon. Just one dance? How hard could it be? I lead, you follow and it all works out.”
“Usually for the one leading. No so much for the one who has to do all the following. Thanks, but as I said, I’m on my way out.”
“But you have to come dance with me. I’ve been wanting to get my hands on your ass all day.” His eyes swept her up and down.
“Well then it won’t kill you to wait a little longer.”
Gutherie laughed. He liked her. Her long blonde hair and patrician features belied a wicked sense of humor and a caustic wit. She had a great body. Taller than most of the women who competed at an international level. She also had a more than ample bosom and legs that seemed to go on forever. He’d like to know how those breasts looked free of any encumbrance and what her legs would feel like wrapped around him. If he was being honest, he also wanted to hear what she sounded like in the midst of passion. She had a lilting drawl that spoke of her home in Texas, somewhere on the gulf coast if he remembered correctly. And she could ride. Good lord, could she ride.
He took hold of her arm and drew her forward. “Come on, babe. I’m a visitor in your beautiful country. Don’t you want to show me all the sights?” he said. His eyes swept over her, leaving no doubt as to what sights he wanted to see.
He stepped into her space, brought her into his embrace and held her close. “Don’t let that jerk, Rutherford, get to you. Kiwi men know how to treat a woman right.”
“And you’re sexy as hell. Oh, I may have had a few too many, but you know what they say ‘in vino veritas.’ And alcohol never effects my performance.”
“In vino there is also a hell of a hangover. You already proved your prowess on the course today.” Devon tried to pull away again.
He held her tight and allowed one of his hands to slip down to her ass. He leaned in close to whisper, “If it’s been a while, I can be gentle—at least the first couple of times. Although, I have to admit that wouldn’t be my first choice.”
Even as obnoxious as he was behaving, she could understand the allure—for some. She knew that arguing with him would be pointless so she turned to leave again.
Gutherie pulled her back against the front of his body. He wrapped his arms around her again and struggled not to fondle one of her tits. He settled for nestling his hardening cock into her backside.
Drunk, horny and strong, she thought. That’s never a good combination.
“I really want to fuck you. I’ve wanted to fuck you for the longest time,” he whispered in her ear. “You have a smokin’ hot body and legs that go on forever. I have dreams of getting my hands on you, spending the night between those legs and rocking your world.”
Devon was a bit shocked that no one seemed to either care or notice that she was being prevented from leaving or that Gutherie was just this side of molesting her. Knowing that she could save herself, Devon turned in his arms and smiled sweetly. He immediately dropped both hands to her ass and pulled her into direct contact with his hard manhood. She allowed the contact which seemed to mollify him somewhat. “So, you’ve wanted me for a long time?”
“Abso–fucking–lutely. You have the best rack of any of the girls on the circuit and the way those chaps frame your ass, well it’s enough to give a man all kinds of fantasies.”
“Is it?” she whispered with an alluring tone. “Well you know, I’m from Texas. And as you may know, Texas has a rich history of cowboys and cowgirls. Texas cowgirls know just how to handle a stud when he’s expressing himself like you are tonight.”
He pulled her closer, nuzzled her neck beneath her long, blonde hair and said in a tone dripping with lust, “And how’s that, baby?”
The words had barely left his mouth, when Devon brought her knee up sharply to make painful contact with his balls.
Instinctively he let go of her and moved to soothe them.
She leaned in and whispered, “We geld them.” With that, Devon turned on her heel and left the party.
It was all Gutherie could do to keep from having to take a knee from the pain. Certainly, her blow had sobered him up.
He was still nursing his groin when Jake Rutherford clapped him on the shoulder, saying “See what I mean? A real tight ass bitch. But if you can get her to spread those legs and loosen up, she’s a hell of a ride.”
Gutherie came upright and drove his fist into Rutherford’s perfectly chiseled face, smashing his nose, loosening some teeth and knocking the assistant coach on his ass. “Don’t you ever speak her name in my presence again. Got that?”