A Day At The Unicorn Races
Christina F. York
Published by Tsunami Ridge Publishing at Smashwords
Copyright 2010 Christina F. York
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
A Day At The Unicorn Races
Christina F. York
Alphonse listened to the track announcer calling the end of the Meadowland Stakes race, as he watched from the rail. The thunder of hooves shook the ground under his feet, and dust assailed his nose, as the racers passed his position.
Fairy Dust was one of his favorites, even though trainers weren’t supposed to have favorites.
And Bubbles, the jockey, was one of his favorites, too. He probably shouldn’t have favorite jockeys, either, but screw that. She looked good in the silks, and he could imagine what she would look like out of them. Hell, he’d even had a preview or two in the changing rooms, even though the women’s locker was supposed to be off limits to men.
But Bubbles didn’t feature having him in her life, not by a long shot. Not as long as she was a unicorn racer. Just his luck to fall for a woman with a career that didn’t leave much room for romance.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried. He’d done all the polite things, made all the non-threatening moves he knew.
Both of them.
But she’d been pretty clear. He couldn’t find a good answer to “Get your damned hands off of me.” She might be little, but dainty wasn’t a word that described Bubbles.
Fairy Dust was moving along the rail, challenging for the lead, with only a few seconds left in the race. He seemed to respond to the screaming of the crowd, putting on a last-second burst of speed, and moving into a photo finish.
While the crowd buzzed, waiting for the results, Alphonse slipped through the gate into the paddock, where the mounts were cooling down.
As a trainer, he was one of the few people allowed near the unicorns. Only virgins could ride, but fortunately trainers didn’t have to be quite so pure. He’d thought about being a jockey once, but that whole no-sex-thing had changed his mind. Who wanted to voluntarily spend the rest of his life in a constant state of frustration?
Bubbles was still astride Fairy Dust, leaning forward over his neck, stroking his horn, and whispering in his ear.
Alphonse suddenly wished he was a unicorn.
As she stroked the horn, Bubbles stood up slightly in her saddle, leaning forward. The tight silk of her riding pants stretched across her trim bottom.
Was the woman deliberately torturing him?
Bubbles glanced around the paddock, catching sight of Alphonse. Her eyes were bright with the excitement of the race, and a little unfocused, her face flushed. She smiled at Alphonse, and nudged Fairy Dust toward him.
Sliding from the saddle, Bubbles dropped down next to Alphonse. “Did you see the son-of-a-bitch run?” She was buzzing with adrenaline. “Did you see?”
Before Alphonse could reply, the finish photo flashed on the tote board. Fairy Dust, muscles straining, had pushed his horn ahead of the number two finisher, by a fraction of an inch.
Bubbles cheered, and jumped into Alphonse’s arms, wrapping her slender legs around his waist, and kissing him lustily.
For an instant, they were both in the moment, in the kiss, passion and desire flowing freely.
Then Bubbles broke the kiss and dropped to the ground. Her face clouded, and frustration instantly replaced passion.
“Dammit!” She stomped away. “Don’t do that to me!”
As she moved off, Alphonse could hear a string of muttered curses. He shook his head.
She was trying to torture him.
#