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bottom lip of hers and shudder above him as she brought herself to orgasm. Her juices would run down her hand and she’d turn her hungry mouth to him. She’d swivel, sinking to her knees so her still-swollen folds were easily within his tongue’s reach, and she’d take him deeply into her mouth.
    The taste of her and the sensation of her lips around him would almost be his undoing, but he’d hold out as long as he could. He’d savor her and tease her swollen nub with licks and gentle sucks until he felt her ready to come again. Only then would he climax in her mouth while she did in his.
    Tony shuddered as he came in his own hand.
    Probably wouldn’t hurt to find out what’s in that notebook before I throw her out.
    Just to be fair ’n all.
     

Chapter Four
     
    Early in the morning, Tony’s subconscious turned on him as it had countless times before. He tensed, even in his sleep, preparing to meet an old adversary he’d never conquered.
    Don’t do this to yourself. Wake up.
    But he was already lost to it.
    He was cantering a white mare bareback down a long dirt road. They covered the miles with no sound of hoofbeats to break up the oppressive silence. No breeze. Sweat beaded on Tony’s forehead. Torn between loving and hating the memory, all he could do was hold on. The violet-blue sky pressed down, as familiar to him as the decrepit ranch he was riding to.
    As she always did, the mare headed for the crumbling farmhouse at the top of the hill. No amount of reining would turn the mare from her course. Try as he did, each time he took this ride he was incapable of leaping off. No, the horse always took him back to the one place he hated.
    In a blink of an eye, he was standing in an old round pen with the mare. His father, as weathered and worn as his surroundings, leaned against the pen’s rusty outer metal railings. “You still wastin’ yer time with that nag? The meat man ain’t gonna care none if she’s muscled up.”
    “You can’t sell her. She’s mine, Dad. You said I could have her.” His voice was a mixture of the child he’d been and the man he’d become.
    “Don’t go gettin’ yourself attached, Tony. We need the money and that horse is goin’ at the next auction.” There was no cruel intention in his voice, just the cold sting of truth.
    “You told me if I got her to stop bucking I could keep her. She’s as gentle as they come now.”
    Emotion had never had much effect on the older man who had been taught several tough life lessons early. “If she is, maybe someone’ll outbid the meat man.”
    The hand Tony buried in the horse’s mane belonged to the twelve-year-old he’d once been. “I won’t let you do it, Dad. Not this horse. Not to the auction. She’s mine. I love her.” A memory that should have faded with time was as sharp and painful in his dream as the day it had happened, and the desperation in his young voice as he pleaded with his father was equally real.
    With a disgusted shake of his head, his father said, “There ain’t no room for love in reality, Son. You’d best learn that now. Love just makes a man miserable. That horse goes to auction in two weeks. Train her real good and maybe she’ll find herself a home.”
    The weathered, neglected pen disappeared. Miles and miles of white fencing surrounded Tony. Tall green grass waved in the light breeze under a bright, cloudless sky. He heard the distant sound of a thundering gray stallion bearing down on him. The horse grew in size as it approached, morphing into a snorting beast intent on stomping the life out of him. The more he fought it, the more it knocked him down until he retreated from it. But it followed, as it always did, cornering him until he hated himself more than he feared any pain the horse could inflict.
    An image of Sarah appeared and stood beside him, replacing the beast. Sweet, trusting Sarah. He reached for her, but she stepped back in horror, staring at his hands. They were covered and dripping