BREAK ME ON THE SADDLE, RANCHER DADDY 2

Chapter 2: 

First Riding Lesson

The morning sun was already blazing by the time Colt led me out to the corral after breakfast. My jeans felt too tight, my boots borrowed and stiff, and my heart hammered like I was about to step onto a stage instead of a dusty paddock.

Daisy stood waiting, a sweet chestnut mare with a white blaze down her nose, swishing her tail lazily at flies.

“Easy now, little filly,” Colt said, his gravel voice cutting through the quiet morning air as he patted Daisy’s neck. “She’s the gentlest one we got. Perfect for breaking in city girls who think riding means sitting pretty in a saddle.”

I laughed nervously, adjusting my tank top that already stuck to my skin from the heat. “I’m not that hopeless, Colt. I told you, I rode once at camp. Briefly. Before I ate dirt.”

He chuckled low, the sound rumbling from deep in his broad chest. Those blue eyes flicked over me, assessing. “Eating dirt’s part of it. But today we do it right. C’mere.”

His big hand settled on my lower back as he guided me to the mounting block. Even that innocent touch sent a strange spark up my spine. At fifty-one, Colt moved like a man who owned every inch of this land muscles flexing under his worn denim shirt, scars peeking from the collar where a bull had once tossed him, he’d mentioned over coffee.

“Left foot in the stirrup,” he instructed, voice dropping lower as I swung up. “Now ease on. Back straight. That’s it.”

I settled into the saddle, and immediately the leather pressed firm between my thighs. The rhythm of Daisy shifting her weight already felt… different. Intimate. I gripped the reins tighter than I should have.

Colt walked beside us, one hand on the lead rope, the other resting casually on my thigh to adjust my position. His palm was warm, callused, and huge. “Hips loose, darlin’. Don’t clench up like you’re scared she’ll bolt. Feel the horse move under you. Let your body follow.”

My cheeks burned. “Like this?” I asked, trying to relax. The saddle rubbed with each slow step Daisy took, a steady pressure that made my breath catch in ways I didn’t want to examine.

“Just like that,” he praised, his gravel tone approving. “You’re a natural when you stop fighting it. Most city girls squeeze too hard the first time. Makes everything sore faster than it needs to be.”

We circled the corral slowly. Colt stayed close, his hand occasionally guiding my waist when I leaned too far. “Tell me something,” I said, desperate for distraction from how aware I was of his touch and the heat building low in my belly. “How’d you get that scar on your jaw? The thin one right there.”

He rubbed it absently with his free hand, a crooked smile breaking across his rugged face. “Wild night back when I was thirty. Young and stupid, trying to break a mustang that didn’t want breaking. Threw me into a fence post. Taught me patience real quick. Some things you coax ’em gentle. Rush ’em, and they fight back harder.”

“Sounds like a warning,” I teased, glancing down at him. From up here, he looked even taller, shoulders impossibly wide.

“Smart girl.” His fingers pressed lightly on my waist again, correcting my posture. “This ranch teaches that too. You listen, you learn, you earn your place. Your folks sent you here ’cause they knew I’d look after you proper. No shortcuts.”

Daisy picked up a gentle trot at his command. The motion bounced me lightly, the saddle’s friction constant now, rubbing with every stride. I bit my lip, focusing on staying balanced while warmth spread through me. It wasn’t just the exercise. It was Colt’s low voice, his steady hands, the way he watched me like he could read every shift in my body.

“Colt… this feels weird,” I admitted breathlessly after a few laps. “The saddle, I mean. It’s pressing in places I didn’t expect.”

He didn’t laugh at me. Instead, his eyes darkened just a fraction, voice dropping to that gravel rumble. “That’s normal, Ellie. First rides always wake up parts of you that’ve been sleeping. Loosen your thighs a little more. Trust the saddle. Trust me. I won’t let you fall.”

I tried. God, I tried. His hand slid from my waist to my outer thigh, firm and instructional, holding me steady as Daisy trotted faster. The pressure built with the rhythm steady, insistent. My nipples tightened against my bra, and I prayed he couldn’t tell. This was supposed to be a riding lesson, not… whatever this fluttering heat was.

“You’re doing good,” he said after a while, slowing us down. Sweat glistened on his forehead, making the gray at his temples stand out. “Better than I expected for a first go. Most girls your age complain after ten minutes. You got fire in you.”

“I want to get this right,” I replied, voice a little shaky as we stopped. “I don’t want to be the helpless city girl forever. Tell me more about when you were younger. You said you used to rodeo?”

Colt helped me dismount, his strong hands spanning my waist as he lifted me down like I weighed nothing. For a second, my body slid against his front before my feet hit the ground. Solid. Warm. Overwhelming.

“Rodeo days were wild,” he said, still holding my waist a beat longer than necessary. “Broke bones, chased buckle bunnies, thought I was invincible at twenty-five. Then life kicked my ass and I settled here. Built something real. No more chasing thrills just the land, the work, and now… looking after you.”

His words hung heavy. I looked up at him, only inches away, smelling leather and man and sunshine. “Do I seem like a handful so far?”

A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. “The best kind, darlin’. The kind worth the time to break in right.” His thumb brushed my hip once before he stepped back. “You’re sore already, ain’t you? Walk it off. We’ll do this every morning till you move like you belong on a horse.”

I nodded, legs wobbly as I took a few steps. Everything felt sensitive the rub of denim, the lingering ghost of his hands. Sore, yes, but glowing too. Alive in a way the city never made me feel.

As I headed toward the barn to help with chores like he asked, I glanced back. Colt stood by Daisy, watching me walk away. His gaze lingered on my hips, jaw tight, one hand flexing at his side.

My pulse raced. This was only day two, and already the ranch and my godfather were stirring things in me I had no business feeling.

I couldn’t wait for tomorrow’s lesson.