The event field stretched out behind the house, a flat expanse of packed earth ringed by horse floats and utes and the low murmur of people who knew each other well enough to talk without looking. Bryce stood at the rail of the practice yard, watching a bay mare circle on a lunge line, dust curling around her hooves. The afternoon sun pressed down. Somewhere behind him, someone laughed—a woman’s laugh, bright and easy—and he caught himself scanning for blue hair before remembering Holly wasn’t coming.
“She’s got a nice stride on her.”
Grant appeared at his elbow, a stubby in each hand, and passed one over. Bryce took it, nodded his thanks, and watched the mare’s shoulder angle as she rounded the far end of the circle.
“That the one you were looking at?”
“Her.” Grant’s smile was slow, pleased. “Reckon she’d suit the trek work. Steady, doesn’t spook at the creek crossing.”
“You’ve been watching her all day.”
“That obvious?”
Bryce drank. Cold beer, the good kind of bitter. “You’ve checked your watch like you’ve got somewhere to be. You haven’t moved.”
Grant laughed, clapped him on the shoulder, and wandered off toward the owner of the mare.
Bryce stayed where he was. The event had drawn a decent crowd—maybe forty people spread between the yards and the shade of the big gum trees, a few agistment clients, some faces he knew from the treks, a handful he didn’t.
He spotted Tessa across the yard, talking with Elara. She had her back half to him, one boot resting on the bottom rail of the fence, laughing at something. When she glanced over, their eyes met and her smile changed.
Bryce lifted his beer in a small salute.
Tessa turned back to Elara.
Near the veranda, a woman Bryce didn’t recognise had joined them. Larissa, he’d heard someone call her—a friend of Adele’s visiting for the event.
Whatever she was saying had Elara grinning.
Bryce wandered closer.
“Girl on girl,” Elara supplied, dry as dust. “Larissa’s a fan.”
“A fan?” Larissa pressed a hand to her chest, mock-offended. “I’m practically an enthusiast.”
Tessa laughed. “Not for me.”
Larissa tilted her head. “You tried it?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“I know.”
Larissa smiled. “Alright.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Tessa shook her head, still smiling, and the conversation moved on.
Someone’s horse had thrown a shoe. A float had a flat tyre. There was talk of a barbecue at Callan and Mauve’s the following weekend.
Later, when the crowd had thinned and the shadows stretched long across the grass, Bryce found Tessa by her ute, pulling a jacket from the cab.
“Heading home?”
“Yeah.” She looked at him. “You?”
“Got a few things to finish before dark.”
She nodded, then closed the ute door.
“Come over tonight. I’ll cook.”
“Yeah?”
“If you want.”
“I want.”
Her smile came easily.
“Good.”
She climbed into the ute and drove away.
Bryce watched the dust settle behind her before heading home himself.
He checked the water and finished a couple of jobs before showering and changing.
The cabin had come a long way. The internal lining was finished now, most of the trim was on, and the kitchen was usable even if there were still details he wanted to finish. His old handwritten list remained pinned to the wall, crossed through and added to until there was almost as much ink as paper.
Bryce looked at it while buttoning his shirt.
Then he grabbed his keys.
Tessa’s weatherboard cottage sat back from the road behind a row of gums. The porch light was already on when he pulled in.
She met him at the door in bare feet and a dress that stopped at her knees.
“Chicken schnitzels,” she said, stepping aside. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving.”
The kitchen was small and tidy, schnitzels keeping warm while she finished the vegetables, a bottle of red already open on the bench. She poured him a glass.
They ate at the small table by the window, talking about the event, Grant’s mare and nothing much at all.
Afterwards Bryce washed while Tessa dried.
She bumped his hip with hers when he put a plate in the wrong cupboard.
“That’s where it was last time.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“You moved it.”
“It’s my kitchen.”
“Convenient.”
Tessa laughed and took the plate from him.
When the last dish was away, she put down the tea towel and caught his hand.
“Come on.”
The bedroom was dim, the bedside light throwing amber across the walls.
Tessa kissed him slowly, hands sliding up his chest.
There was no hurry. They already knew each other well enough that there didn’t need to be.
After a while she pushed him backwards onto the bed and stood between his knees.
“There’s something I want to try.”
“Alright.”
“I haven’t done anal.”
His eyebrows lifted.
Tessa pointed at him.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Your face did.”
Bryce laughed and pulled her closer.
She kissed him.
Bryce lay back against the pillows while Tessa straddled him.
The confidence she’d had when she suggested it hadn’t disappeared, but it had become concentration.
She guided him into position, then lowered herself carefully.
Her breath stopped.
“Fuck.”
Bryce’s hands rested loosely on her thighs.
“That is very different.”
“Change your mind?”
“No.”
She stayed still for a moment, getting used to the pressure.
Bryce reached between them.
His fingers found her clit and began rubbing slowly, giving her something familiar beneath the unfamiliar fullness.
Tessa looked down at him.
“That’s cheating.”
“Want me to stop?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“Then stop talking.”
Bryce kept rubbing her, slow circles at first, then firmer when her hips began answering his hand.
She lowered herself a little further.
Stopped.
Breathed.
His fingers kept moving.
The tight concentration in her face softened. Her thighs relaxed against his sides and she sank another fraction, taking him at her own pace until she was sitting fully over him.
For several seconds she didn’t move.
Then she gave an experimental roll of her hips.
Her breath caught.
“Well?”
“Shut up.”
She did it again.
Bryce’s thumb pressed harder against her clit.
Tessa bit her lip.
“Fuck.”
She began to move.
Slowly at first. Lifting just enough to feel him move inside her before settling back down, learning the angle, the pressure, what she could take and what made pleasure cut through the unfamiliar stretch.
Bryce watched her find it.
Her hands came down against his chest.
His fingers kept working between them.
Tessa’s breathing changed.
She moved faster.
“Don’t stop doing that.”
Bryce didn’t.
Her hips rolled against him while his fingers worked her clit, each movement becoming surer than the last. The caution disappeared from her face. Her head tipped back, hair falling over her shoulders.
“Fuck, Bryce.”
Her thighs tightened around him.
He felt her movement lose its rhythm as the pleasure took over. She ground herself down against him, chasing his fingers as much as the fullness inside her.
Then her whole body tightened.
Tessa gasped and stopped moving altogether, hips pressed hard against him while the orgasm rolled through her. Her thighs trembled against his sides. A broken moan escaped her as she rocked against his hand, drawing it out until the tension finally began to leave her.
She opened her eyes.
Bryce was smiling.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“Probably.”
Tessa laughed, still breathless, and dropped forward onto his chest.
Afterward, they lay across the bed catching their breath.
Bryce turned his head toward her.
“I want to try something.”
Tessa opened one eye.
“You just did.”
“Something else.”
Both eyes opened.
“What have you been reading?”
Bryce grinned.
“Oh, Christ.”
He reached for her.
“What?”
“I found something.”
“On the internet.”
“Maybe.”
“That inspires confidence.”
She was still laughing when he kissed her.
He rolled her onto her back and moved down beside her. His hand slipped between her thighs.
Tessa relaxed beneath his touch at first. She knew this part.
Bryce rubbed her clit until her legs opened wider and her breathing deepened, then slid two fingers inside her.
He curled them upward.
Tessa’s hips jerked.
“Fuck.”
He did it again.
Not thrusting now. Curling his fingers firmly against the sensitive place inside her, releasing, then pressing again while his thumb worked her clit.
Tessa’s amusement disappeared.
Her thighs shifted wider.
Bryce kept the rhythm steady—fingers curling and pressing inside her, thumb circling her clit.
The wet sound of his hand moving against her grew louder.
Tessa grabbed the sheet.
“Bryce.”
He kept going.
Pressure built behind the pleasure, different enough that her brow furrowed.
“Bryce—I’m going to—”
“What?”
“I’m going to piss myself.”
“Maybe.”
Her eyes snapped open. “Maybe?”
“Just let it happen.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“I’ve got towels.”
“Bryce.”
He grinned. “Trust the research.”
She stared at him.
Then his fingers curled firmly again.
Her answer disappeared into a gasp.
Bryce kept rubbing her clit while his fingers worked inside her, maintaining the pressure instead of letting her retreat from it.
Tessa’s legs began trembling.
“Fuck—Bryce—”
Her hips lifted hard against his hand.
Then the tension broke.
A gush of fluid spilled over his fingers and across the sheets.
Tessa cried out, her whole body contracting around his hand. Another pulse followed when he curled his fingers again, wetness running across his wrist as her orgasm kept going.
Her thighs clamped around his forearm.
Bryce slowed but didn’t stop until the last shudder passed through her.
Tessa collapsed back against the mattress.
For several seconds she just breathed.
Then she looked down at the wet sheets.
“What the fuck was that?”
Bryce was grinning.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You knew.”
“I hoped.”
She looked at the wet sheets.
Then back at him.
“Again?”
He laughed. “Seriously?”
“You wanted to experiment.”
Bryce looked at her for another second.
Then reached for her again.
Tessa laughed and pulled him closer.
Much later, she lay with her head against his shoulder, one leg thrown across his.
The bedside light was still on.
“You realise you’re becoming dangerous.”
Bryce looked down at her. “Me?”
“You.”
“What did I do?”
Tessa lifted her head.
“Tonight?”
“Yeah.”
She stared at him.
Bryce started laughing.
“You’re an arsehole.”
“So I’ve been told.”
She dropped her head back onto his shoulder, but he could feel her smiling against him.
His fingers traced lazily along her back.
After a while Tessa shifted closer.
“Stay.”
Bryce glanced toward the clock.
“Wasn’t planning on driving home now.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
He looked down at her.
Tessa didn’t explain.
She tucked herself against him and pulled the sheet higher over them.
Bryce reached across and switched off the light.