Wrapped around your finger - Post Malone

3

Hazel has no idea how long this is going to take and now she is all alone on the hot tar with her bra in her fucking hand. This is ridiculous. The maybe Austin cowboy is a fucking unhelpful asshole and now he is just a tiny little dot a million miles away in the open field next to his million cows. She feels a drop of water on her face and then looks up at the sky. It's gone from blue to black. How the fuck did that happen? As the heavens open and water buckets down, she dashes to her car, too late to avoid getting soaked. "That fucking asshole," she groans, blaming Austin for the downpour. Who else is she going to blame? Cathy in the coffee tin? "Can't blame the dead now can I?" she says poking the coffee tin. She sighs and slouches in her chair watching the cows pass her car and now in the rain, they seem to be walking even slower. Stupid cows. She might as well turn back. She can sleep in the town and once the road is clear tomorrow she can make her way out to Cottonwood Ranch. She starts her car, puts it in reverse, and presses down the gas pedal. She turns her head to look out the back window as the car starts rolling back. Suddenly out of nowhere, a cow appears. She gets a fright and swerves her car, landing it square in a muddy ditch. She rams it into drive but she is deep in the trench and her tires keep slipping in the mud. She is stuck.

She groans as she sees the last of the cows cross the road. Patience - she never had any, if she had just waited for a second longer she would not be in this situation. She groans again when she sees the now soaking-wet maybe Austin cowboy come trotting with a smirk toward her. She contemplates playing dead, but she doubts he would let her rest in peace. He stops his horse in front of her car and hops off it. He walks slowly to her car. His strut is sexy and annoying at the same time, Hazel wants to fuck him and slap him. She needs therapy. The cowboy taps on her window and indicates for her to wind it down. "No," she shakes her head, "I don't want to get wet," she says expecting him to knock again or at least plead with her. He does not - instead, he just shrugs and opens her door. "What are you doing? You are getting everything wet!" she shouts over the downpour. It's getting heavier. "You have two choices, Darlin'. Sleep in your car tonight or I take you to shelter. Although both choices involve you keeping that big trap of yours shut," he says in a monotone voice. "I will take my chances in my car," Hazel says. The cowboy shrugs and rolls his eyes. "Fine by me," he says then swings her door shut. Hazel watches him walk back his horse, mount it then turn the horse and starts walking slowly behind the cattle. He is just going to leave her here? What is wrong with him? She grabs Cathy then hops out of the car and runs after him. "Hey! Hey!" she shouts after him. He stops his horse and looks down at her when she gets to his side. Is he smirking? Asshole.

"I can't believe you were just going to leave me there. Did your mother not teach you any manners?" she asks. The cowboy takes his foot out of the stirrup and points to it. "Left foot in here, push up and swing your right leg up and around," he says then puts his hand out for her. She takes it, her hand practically disappears into his. She shivers when she imagines his hand holding down her hips as she wriggles under him. Fuck. He yanks her up and makes it easy to swing her leg over. She squeaks a little in surprise when she realizes she is sitting in front of him and not behind him as she expected. She has two powerful thighs on either side of her. She is sure she had had a wet dream about this exact scenario. "Trap shut," he whispers into her ear. His arms snake around her as he takes hold of the reins. She clings to Cathy. He clicks his tongue and flicks his wrist so the horse starts moving...very slowly behind the cattle.

"Are we just going to walk leisurely behind your girls in this rain?"

No answer.

"Is this shelter far? Could you not just drop me off at the shelter?"

No answer.

Her heart drops a little, she should have stayed in the car. She is now soaking wet, the rain has reached every inch of her body, it's dark and a slight wind has picked up. She feels goosebumps spread slowly over her body and she is starting to tremble. How the fuck had it gone from satan's balls to the ice queen's asshole in two seconds? She hates Utah. She feels the cowboy lean away from her and when she turns her head a little she can see he is digging in a bag on the side of the horse. He pulls out a thick blanket made of fur and then drapes it around her shivering shoulders. It immediately cuts off the cold wind and she feels warmer. Thank fuck."Thank you," she whispers. He does not answer, but she never expected him to. They carry on walking behind the zillion cows like they are out of a fucking Sunday strole. It's pretty dark now and Hazel can't see much but she has worked out that they are not alone. About five or six other cowboys are running up and down on their horses. Her cowboy is clearly the leader as the rest constantly come up to him, nod their head or communicate something to him with their fingers. He just keeps his horse straight and nods. Fuck my life is all that runs through Hazel's head, although she is grateful for the blanket that she will definitely be stealing.

After at least another hour the cowboy brings the horse to a stop near a gate that all the cows are slowly walking through. All the other cowboys are also waiting near the gate. They all watch in silence as the cows walk through the gate, it feels like it takes fucking forever. Once they are all in two cowboys jump off their horses and close the gate while a third trots up to Hazel and her cowboy. "All are accounted for including the calf that wandered off, Ace said he saw Evelyn struggle to get her out of the dried-up river bed. With this rain, it would have turned to mud and I don't see her coming along the trail so my guess is she is still busy trying to rein it in," he says. Hazel's heart drops again, if that's true then Evelyn has been busy for a good three hours. "Alright," her cowboy says and turns his horse in the direction they had just come from. "Hold on tight, Darlin'," he whispers in her ear. Hazel grips Cathy close to her chest and then grips the edge of the saddle with her free hand. The cowboy clicks his tongue and flicks his reins. The horse bolts, it gallops so fast that the wind whips at Hazel's face and the rain hits her skin like little bullets. She is holding on as tight as she can, even her thighs are burning from how hard she is squeezing them to stop herself from falling. But the horse is going so fast she can feel herself slipping no matter how much she clings on. She contemplates dropping Cathy and coming back for her later. Sorry, Cathy, every woman for herself at this point. But then the maybe Austin cowboy's arm snakes around her waist and he pulls her tight to his body. She nearly dies but is also very thankful. It is also not lost on her that he is now controlling the horse with one hand while keeping her and himself firmly on the horse.

Utah is a magical place.