Flores Vitae: The Flower of Life

Chapter 8: Saddle Sores

Rose

I woke up slowly, and I felt so very comfortable. I was cocooned in warm blankets, sunk into the soft mattress, while at the same time I was pressed against something cool and firm. It was sort of like sleeping with the fan on in the winter time. Except, I realized slowly, that cool comfortable something was a man. In my bed. Again. And I was shamelessly wrapped all up around him. I slowly and carefully extricated my arms and legs. His face was relaxed, his eyes were closed, but I didn't think he was really sleeping. Do vampires sleep? As I slipped out of the bed, I felt his eyes on me, following me as I pulled my nightgown down and made a beeline for the bathroom. After I had peed and brushed my teeth, I stared hard at myself in the mirror. I wondered what he thought of me, cuddling up on him like that? I'd never shared a bed with a man before, but you wouldn't know it the way I'd hugged on him in my sleep. My cheeks were flushed red with embarrassment. I wonder what he thought? That I was floozy who regularly slept with random men?

Why did I care what he thought?

I squared my shoulders and marched out. He was already out of bed, and I couldn't help but stop and watch him. His body was so beautiful. Every muscle was perfectly defined. There was no spare flesh, no adipose tissue. My fingers twitched. I wanted to touch him. That's how I memorized the shape and texture of things. If I touched them, I could imprint them on my brain, then later I could recall them through drawing or sculpture. What a beautiful sculpture Matthias Black would make. I could already picture him posed in some aggressive, predatory position. But for now he ruined my concentration by slipping on an undershirt and dressing himself. At least I had seen his closet, hidden in the paneling of the wall. As if he knew I had art on my brain, he spoke, "I saw your drawing of Charlie upstairs." he glanced at me over his shoulder. "I am very fond of it. May I take it for framing?"

He had given me the living horse, why not give him the drawing? It was just a doodle really, not worth anything. And he had saved my life, after all. "Yes, you can have it."

He smiled, and for once the smile reached up into his eyes. Now that was breath-taking. I hadn't quite realized before that often when he stretched his lips into a smile, it was only a superficial gesture. But when he was truly pleased, his eyes lit up and crinkled at the corners. "Thank you, dear. Why don't you get dressed, and we will head down for breakfast.

Get dressed. Right. I turned to the antique wardrobe and pulled open the doors. These clothes were just not me, it was like trying to find clothes in a strangers closet. I wanted to go riding. Didn't vampires know about jeans and t-shirts. There was a pair of jodphers, with a sleeveless blouse and a hunting jacket all arranged neatly together on a hanger. Good lord, I wasn't going to a horse show, I just wanted to ride. I dug around some more and found a pair of designer jeans. I pulled them out with a short sleeved cotton shirt that was still way too fancy for the barn, but it was the best I could do. All these fancy bras... ugh. "I need a sports bra," I grumbled, holding up a blue velvet thing with demi-cups and a matching thong. A thong?? Oh hell no.

He was behind me, his cool hands on my shoulders. He moved so fast and so silently. "Anything you need. We'll order it and have it shipped today."

"Thanks." I grumbled, and dug through the drawer again. I still couldn't find a practical bra, but at least I came up with some underwear that would cover my butt. I clutched the clothes and backed toward the bathroom. I know he'd already seen me naked, but I still couldn't just change in front of him. He seemed amused by my modesty, and sat down on the end of the bed to wait for me.

When I was a kid, I think I was 11 or 12, the state gave me a scholarship to go to an equine summer camp. I spent the summer cleaning stalls, grooming, feeding, and learning to ride. The other girls at the camp were all rich kids, and everyone knew I was a charity case. I didn't exactly make any friends during those two summers, but I did learn everything I could about horses, and by the second year I was in the advanced classes for jumping and dressage. So what if it had been a decade or so since I'd been on a horse? It was like riding a bicycle, right? In fact it felt very comfortable and familiar, leading Charlie out of his stall, putting him on the cross ties, going over his baby-soft coat with the brushes. Matthias and the human stable boy, who was called Sam, were standing aside, watching me with amused expressions. It was very annoying, and I felt like I was being tested for competency. I turned my back to them, picked up a hoof pick out of the box, and gently squeezed around Charlie's cannon bone. He obediently lifted his big, heavy hoof so I could clean and inspect it underneath. I was quite uncomfortably aware that I was giving both of the men a perfect view of my backside. I hope they enjoyed it, designer jeans and all.

When I was satisfied that Charlie was all clean, I pulled off the saddle pads and prepared to tack him up. Matthias was right... Charlie was a huge horse, and I wasn't very tall. But where there is a will there is a way... and I more or less threw the saddle up onto his back, and then smoothed everything out and adjusted it. Thank God Charlie was a calm and patient horse. I cinched him up and went for the bridle.

There was a small arena behind the barn. I used a mounting block, because Charlie was far too tall for me to mount from the ground. I rode him around the arena at an easy walk a few laps, to get both of us warmed up. It had been a lot of years since my butt had sat in a saddle, and I didn't want to make a fool of myself in front of Matthias Black. No more than I already had, anyway. I wish he would go away, and stop watching me. I wish that vampires really did sleep in their coffins all day and burn up in the sunshine, so that I could enjoy this ride without him watching me with those blue eyes. Tune him out, Rose.

Charlie was fantastic. He was so gentle, so willing, anything I asked, he was ready... and if I made any mistakes, he was perfectly forgiving. His gaits were so smooth and comfortable it was like riding a couch. Oh, I was so in love. We did some serpentines and figure 8's, we hopped over the cavalettis set up in the center. Who ever had trained the big horse had done an exceptional work. I don't know how much time had passed, but I rode until my legs and backside started to feel sore. If not for that I would have stayed on all day. I pulled Charlie up next to the fence and slid down. My legs felt like weak and wobbly like wet spaghetti.

"Madam is an excellent rider," Sam the groom commented. He held the reins while I ran the stirrups up. "Shall I walk him out for you?"

"No thank you, Sam. I'll do it myself." I think that was becoming my theme song. Like a toddler trying to be independent, I kept insisting I do it myself, from making the bed to cooling down my horse. "Perhaps you could take the saddle in?"

"Of course, milady."

Milady? Who says that?? Matthias Black's fortress was like a time warp. Sam stripped the saddle and blankets off from the big horse, and I began to walk him back and forth down the lane in front of the barn until his sweat marks had dried, and he was perfectly cool. I brought him in and brushed out the sweat marks before I turned him out into the grazing paddock. Even though I'd given him a good brushing, he still looked for comfy spot to drop down and roll around in the lush grass, no doubt rubbing away the feel of the saddle. He then moseyed over to the water trough and dipped his muzzle in. I could have watched him for hours, but Matthias had snuck up behind me, and put a hand on the small of my back.

"Are you happy, Rose?"

I looked at him quite seriously. He was wearing dark sunglasses that obscured his eyes, a long sleeved shirt, and a baseball cap so that as little skin as possible was exposed to the sun. "I don't know what it is to be happy," I told him honestly. "But it was a wonderful ride, thank you."

I over-did it. I used muscles that I had long forgotten, and I think I actually had bruises on my butt where my seat bones had rubbed on the saddle. By the time I went to the bedchambers for the night, I felt I could barely walk. How embarrassing to be around all these perfect people, and I am so out of shape that a couple hours in a saddle had killed me. I tried having a long soak in the big tub, but it didn't go far to relieve the pain in my legs and buttocks. I had abandoned the wardrobe full of silky, fancy lingerie, and had swiped one of Matthias's big white undershirts. It hung to my mid-thigh and was much more comfortable than all that lacy garbage. I crawled onto the bed and groaned in misery. I wondered if they kept any aspirin in this house full of vampires. But they had human workers, too right? There had to be some painkillers somewhere. I would just have to embarrass myself and ask Matthias when he came. If he came. I think he did a lot of his business at night.

I felt him sit down on the bed beside me, but I kept my face buried in the pillow.

"My dear, are you well?"

"Don't call me dear. Do you have aspirin?"

I heard him chuckle. "Ah, your first day back in the saddle. I see. Perhaps I can help you with that."

I lifted my head from the pillow and gave him a narrow eyed look. "Help me how?"

He disappeared for a moment, and returned with a small glass bottle. I thought perhaps it was some kind of medicine for me to take. Instead he poured some of it into his hands, and then began to rub it on the back of my legs. Starting from my calves, and working up to my thighs. When my skin was slick with oil, he began to massage my muscles. He was some kind of an expert, pushing his thumbs into my calves and rubbing upwards and circling around like he was tracing a heart. The cold of his hands against the warm oil was... oh good lord it was sensual. I know it was just a massage, right? It wasn't supposed to be a s****l thing... but somehow when ever I was close to Matthias, my twisted mind made everything about s*x. I was looking for meanings where there were none. Just because his cold hands set me on fire didn't mean anything. It didn't mean he felt anything. It didn't mean he wanted me. It just meant that my hormones were out of control. When he finished working the knots out of my calf muscles, he moved up to my thighs... and it was like torture. The sweetest torture I'd ever endured, between the pain of my tight muscles, the burn of lactic acid build up, his cold hands, the hot oil... and the sparks and shivers I got everywhere he touched me... and his fingers were running up the delicate skin of my inner thighs, digging deep into my muscles. I didn't mean to make any noise, but I think I moaned. Then I buried my head in the pillow to hide my shame and embarrassment. I wasn't supposed to enjoy this. I wasn't supposed to want his touch. I wasn't supposed to respond. I had to remember exactly what I was to this man... I was nothing more than a vehicle to carry his children. The fact that I knew what he wanted from me should have cooled me off completely. But it didn't. His touch felt good. It felt so good. He finished his massage, much too soon for my liking, and pulled the hem of my shirt (his shirt) back down my thighs. He leaned down and whispered in my ear. "I can smell your arousal, Rose. And you look really good in my shirt." And then he eased off the bed and disappeared again.

Damn him.