As she she struggled to focus on her last chore of the morning, she heard the sound of an approaching truck. Curious, she wiped her hands on her jeans and stepped into the sunlight. A man emerged from the vehicle, leading a majestic-looking stallion. Clara's heart skipped a beat.

The horse was coal-black with a wild, untamed look in his eyes. His muscles rippled beneath his sleek coat, and his cock... Clara couldn't tear her gaze away. It was him. The horse from her dream.

"This here's Nightmare," the man said, jerking his thumb towards the horse. "He's just been retired from racing. Too feisty, they say. Almost killed his last jockey." The man spat on the ground, as if to emphasize his distaste.

Clara's heart raced as she approached the stallion. He snorted and pawed at the ground, but his eyes never left hers. She knew it was crazy, but she could have sworn that in his dark depths, there was a flicker of recognition.

"I'll take good care of him," she said, her voice firm despite the tremble in her voice.

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