A Stride of Lust

I

Ruth POV

"Oh c'mon, Ruth! You can ride better than that"
My instructor yelled. God I hated this woman, is all I could think as I circled her. I could already sense my legs aching in the morning, along with my arms as this horse was just so damn strong. Just as I thought I was going to be stuck in a wheelchair, I finally heard the words "That's all for today!" screeched across the arena, Oh thank the heavens!
The horse came to a square halt beneath me, I slipped off the saddle landing on the arena's sandy turf. Pins and needles already shooting up my leg to my hips from the landing.
"Ruth you've got to sort out that lower leg! You're going to get eaten alive in that next event y'know!"
I rolled my eyes, Hazel has been my instructor for years yet always seems to be so dramatic. My voice was raspy from yelling back at the demanding woman "I'll be fine~" My face was slightly sour from her having such little faith.
"Have you arranged our table at the prize giving?" my brow cocked up at Hazel as she stood beside me slightly rubbing the back of her exposed neck "your solo this time girly" My gaze flickered away and back to her as I double took what she said "your joking?" I sarcastic laugh escaped my lips briefly as she had a pathetic grin on her face "Who am I gonna talk to for hours!?". I allowed my head to fall back and a fed-up groan emanated from my throat. "I'm sorry Ruth~!" she chimed, all of her words lazy and empathetic.
I rolled my eyes and began to walk out of the large arena barn-style doors, the paint job immaculate and new, as my feet hit the concrete outside of the entrance and the sun hit my face I let out a light sigh "What are we gonna do with her hey bud?"God confiding in a horse, great.
Once the horse was turned out for the night into one of the neatly fenced paddocks, I hopped into my lil shitbox of a car and proceeded down the long track, my head bobbing from the infrequent unfilled pothole in the winding lanes of the yard driveway that met the slow country roads below.

Slowly pulling up to my house, a little detached house out of the town with its little red bricks, black titled roof, and cute oak door, It was a nice place to live.
Now 'bout this prize giving...guess I can't be covered in horse hair. Once I had sorted an appropriate and clean set of clothes I began to look like I hadn't been pulled backward through a bush.
The plain white shirt that clung to my body in the right way, followed by a pair of some nice dark denim flared jeans, gems in the shape of a horseshoe imprinted and decorated each side of my ass, and a basic black belt with a silver buckle, plus my hair lightly curled while the two complementary strands framing my round face, brown eyeshadow and red tinted lips. These jeans made my butt look so good, after I was done admiring myself like some sort of egotistical prick, it was time to go meet the biggest one iv had the misfortune of meeting.
Soon enough I was in my car, my hands clenching around the steering wheel at just the thought of coming second to him again, I needed to fight the urge to throttle him the best I could at the moment. The car's tires hitting the graveled track broke my murderous train of thought. Slowly pulling up to the closest parking spot I could, my eyes instinctively searching for his car, a grin appeared as his car was nowhere to be seen.... Before it was, the sight of the large white Land Rover made my headache, God fuckin' damnit.
My sorrowful stalk into the hall was silenced by all the conversations in the room that bounced against the walls, the bright warm yellowed lights blaring down onto the spotless black and white tiled floor.
"Oh my god Ruth!" I heard a distant and blurred voice exclaim, soon a short blonde guy jogged up to me, pausing in front of me with a gleeful expression, "Sooo you win your last competition?" his voice was almost laced with a teasing undertone, but genuine curiosity. This bloke was called Jude Simmons, a well-off Irish Jockey, he was around 5'6 with a slender body that was under his slightly baggy black button-up and loose black denim jeans. He was a lovely guy just a chatterbox and once he was talking it never stopped. "Wishful thinking Jude, but the one who shall not be named was there.." I grumbled, my eyes guiding away in a pissed-off manner.
"Welcome everybody!" the voice boomed across the hall, causing all to pause and even some to jolt and peer up at the stage "Let us get this prize-giving started!" jeez these moments stress me out.
After a couple of crusty old event planners and the sponsors had finished their financial and publicity sob speeches, here came the part all of us wanted to hear.
One by one each class went up, the dressage, showing, and now the jumping was being announced. I felt my whole demeanor tense up at the feeling I was being glared at but through the thick crowd of competitors shielded my eyes from finding the person responsible for the pressure, as they went up from fifth to the top three, each name and rosette being handed out made my skin crawl. Finally, I heard it "Ruth Doyle! Second place!" suddenly my cheeks weren't as flush and my shoulders dropped from the release of the pent-up expectation. I slowly slumped onto the stage, straightening my posture and putting on my best 'I want to be here' grin.
Eyes looked at me from every direction and cheers and loud whistles made my ears ring. As all fell silent, I felt that same agonizing pressure on me, my chest feeling like it was going to concave "Now first place! Our three streak champion of this season!..." and almost like clockwork a tall figure merged out of the crowd "Elliot Black!".
His strides were full of purpose and his eyes examined me as mine did him, his black button-up shirt clung to his body as if its life depended on it, his forearms visible and his black pants clean of lint or any animal hair, surprising in this line of work. As put together as he looked, he always managed to have his deep brown hair disheveled with that iconic strand falling down his forehead, landing just between his lustful eyes that made any girl...
"Are you done gawking Ms. Doyle?" my eyes fluttered as came out of my trance, clearly a trance of hatred. "Congrats again Mr. Black" I grinned, feeling my blood boil under my pale skin, my cheeks probably heating up.
He didn't say a word, a huff escaping his lungs as he turned away, no snarky comments?
He descended the stairs and out of sight out of the nearest fire exits.
I was left on the stage alone with my small blue rosette gripped between my fingers, the fact it was time to leave was plastered on my mind, I had got my prize now time to go.
Quickly going down the steps carefully making sure not to catch anyone's attention, God forbid Judes. Traveling through the clustered crowd now filled with rosettes and boastful chatter I made it towards the main exit, the dark skies visible through the large glass panels surrounding the door. Leaning my arm into the door, it was pushed open and the evening breeze rushed under my skin causing goosebumps to erupt all over my bare arms. It was silent the now distant-sounding chatter ever so often disturbed by the smokers and drunks chuckling outside of the building.