“Don’t let it hurt. Just love me. Just love me and let me love you back.”
We began to move at the same pace. His dick was deep inside of me. The feeling caused me to moan.
I sat up so he was deep inside of me, and I began to move my hips back and forth, rolling my body as I did so.
“That feels so good,” he said to me as his hands reached up and grasped my tits. He squeezed them, and the feeling caused me to move faster. I felt myself getting closer and closer to my climax. Then he stopped me and grabbed my hips, pulling me down so our chests were touching.
He began to move his cock in and out of me quickly.
“Oh fuck,” I moaned into his ear.
“Are you gonna come for me?” he asked.
It turned me on, and I felt myself getting closer to my release once again. Neil started moaning more, and even though we’d only had sex a few times, I knew he was getting close. “Come for me,” he said into my ear.
He moved faster, and I moved my body with him. In an instant, I felt the best release of my life. Neil wrapped his arms around me as he had his climax, and I had to admit the feeling made the end of my orgasm even more intense.
I climbed off of him and laid next to him on the bed.
“I love you, Fay. You know that, right?”
“I do,” I answered dreamily, fighting off the sleep that threatened to come in preparation of the celebrating still left to do. “I really do.”
“And do you know what else?”
“No, I don’t. Tell me?”
“This is it, Fay.”
“This is what?”
“This is it. This is the fairytale. It’s what everyone is looking for, what you were looking for. It’s the fairytale, and you and I actually found it.”
Cowboy Romance’s
BILLIONAIRE COWBOY
Chapter 1
Celia shielded her eyes against the glaring Texan sun with the palm of her hand, this sun was going nowhere. She had just stepped off the train that had carried her from the Austin airport, and after a two-hour journey in a small cramped seat, she could feel her bones aching and her legs needing a stretch. How long would she have to wait here in the heat?
Two stuffed-to the brim suitcases lay at her feet. She had packed everything she could, everything she would need, although she wasn’t quite sure what she might actually require. She had never been to Texas before, and definitely never to such a small town.
Celia took in a deep breath and sighed. She had been standing there for over fifteen minutes now, and there was no sign of her ride.
Her grandfather had written a letter to her a month ago. Initially she had smiled when she found the letter slipped under the door of her tenth-floor apartment in New York, by the postman. Who hand wrote letters anymore? Clearly her grandfather did. But when she eventually read the letter, the smile on her face had disappeared. He was sick, very sick, and he was her only remaining family. She had to be there for him in his hour of need, there was no other choice but that.
So, Celia quit her job, not that it was much of a job. It was an internship at a fashion magazine, but it was also a stepping stone towards the actual job that she wanted. Sure, it would have taken time, a few months, maybe even a few years…but it would all be worth it. Now, quitting her job, moving to a small town in Texas to care for her grandfather was going to be a major setback. But what other choice did she have? She couldn’t simply allow her grandfather to wither away by himself.
She had written back to him, probably her first handwritten letter in several years, telling him her plan. She would quit her job and move in with him to care for him, for as long as he needed. He was her only family, she had to do this for him and for the memory of her parents who had brought her up to care for those in need.
The roar of an engine nearby distracted Celia from her thoughts and she whipped around to find a red battered truck making its way towards her, sending dust clouds up in the air in its trail. Her grandfather had mentioned a ride, but this wasn’t what she was expecting.
The truck came to a sudden halt, right in front of her feet and Celia took a few steps back in surprise. It looked like an old dusty thing, with the red paint chipped in several places, the rearview mirror broken and dangling on the side. The engine made such a great sound that it was clear that it needed major maintenance.
Celia still had her face shielded with her hand when the driver’s door creaked open and she saw the back of a man who jumped off the truck. She still didn’t know what to expect, was this definitely her ride?
“Celia Ferro?” The man banged the door shut behind him and turned to look at her, placing his hands on the burning hot hood of the car engine. There was steam rising from it, it was so hot. But he didn’t seem to notice, he kept his hands on it.
“Yes.” She replied, in a meek voice. She had obviously expected a stranger to pick her up, but not such a handsome one. This man was a cowboy through and through, the likes of which she had only ever seen in films or on TV. She hadn’t thought that people like him actually existed in real life.
He was in a dark plaid shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. His jeans were dark too, with a wide boot cut at the bottoms. For shoes, he had ruddy dusty boots and a cowboy hat to shield his face against the sun. But the sun had definitely got to him, because his skin was darkened, and it glowed like bronze in the midday heat. His eyes were piercingly blue, and Celia dropped her gaze from his face when he looked at her, because his eyes nearly frightened her. He looked muscular and lean, like he worked outdoors all day. As hard as she tried to stop herself, she couldn’t help her mind from wandering and imagining what his bare torso would look like, underneath those clothes.
“Do you have bags?” The man asked and she nodded her head.
“They’re right here.” She said and pointed to her feet.
He walked around the front of the truck silently, taking quick long steps and was by her side within seconds. She felt her muscles freeze from his closeness. She couldn’t remember the last time her body had reacted this way to the physical presence of someone else. Without a word, he picked up both the suitcases and tossed them into the open back of the van.
Celia winced when she heard the thump of the bags as they fell. She didn’t want to imagine what the state of her perfume bottles and makeup cases were going to be inside them.
“Get in.” She heard him say, and he walked back around to the driver’s side without waiting for a response from her. Celia gulped. How was she supposed to get in?
She tried pulling at the passenger door, but it wouldn’t give. The man had already climbed back into his seat. He had his hands loosely placed on the steering wheel and was watching Celia struggling to get the door open. It was like he was enjoying her trying and failing and then trying again.
She yanked and pulled, but the door wouldn’t budge; and the man wasn’t helping. She turned a sour face to him through the windshield, her lips quivering as she glared at him. What was wrong with him? She thought, but didn’t say anything. After she had glared at him for a good few moments, he leaned over and pushed the door open from his side. It slid open as smoothly as a knife through warm butter.
Celia tried to haul herself up into the seat, as best she could. She wasn’t dressed for the occasion, she realized as she did this. Her pencil skirt clung tightly to her thighs as she tried to wriggle into the seat, her cheeks flushed and her neck burning red from embarrassment.
He was following her every movement with keen watchful eyes, and when she turned to look at him, she realized that she hadn’t once seen him smile yet.
“Thank you.” Celia said, as politely as she could, even though she didn’t exactly want to be polite to him, when he had been nothing other than rude to her.
The man said nothing, but simply started the engine and the truck roared and came to life.
Despite the fact that she was a little offended by this man’s coldness, she still couldn’t stop herself from admiri
ng him. She couldn’t help but imagine what a big hit this man might be in the fashion industry; with his muscular physique and sharp jaw lines, he would look good in anything, and especially delicious in nothing.
“So, you know my grandfather?” She said, trying to make conversation. He had been driving in silence for a few moments now and she was beginning to grow uncomfortable in his presence. She didn’t want to simply stare at him the whole way.
“Yes.” He replied, keeping his eyes on the road. Celia realized that he had barely even looked at her. The hat remained on his head as he drove, and she noticed the clenching of the muscles on his long arms as he clutched the steering wheel.
“I’ve never been to Texas before. I grew up in Chicago and recently moved to New York.” She continued, looking over at him, hoping for a reaction, for something.
“I can see that.” He said in the same heavy emotionless voice he used to say everything else. Celia blushed again.
“I’m sure I’ll get used to this, won’t I?” She added with a smile, but he wasn’t looking at her to notice that she was trying her best to be friendly, to please him.
“No, you won’t.” He said, keeping his eyes on the road. Celia’s brows crossed. How dare he form opinions of her when he hadn’t even looked at her properly, when he barely knew her or anything about her life. She turned her face away from him, trying to control her displeasure as best as she could.
Everywhere she looked, it was dusty and covered in sand. The trees were sparse and they had crossed very few houses. She couldn’t even imagine this much open space in the cities. It was unheard of. The warm sandy air lashed against her face when she turned her face to the windows. She shielded her eyes against it and allowed the harsh rays of the sun to warm her face some more. She’d show him. She’d show this man, what she was really made of.
“What is your name?” She asked him, turning to him again.
“Wilder.” He replied, without skipping a beat. Just when she was least expecting it, he turned to look at her. Their eyes met. His blue eyes looking straight into hers, deep into her soul, studying her face. He held her gaze for several seconds before he looked away and Celia licked her lips nervously. She wanted him. As much as she wanted to dislike this man, she couldn’t help but acknowledge the fact that she wanted him. She wanted his rough hands on her skin, his blue eyes to look into her face, his shoulders to engulf her tightly…
“Why are you here?” He asked, interrupting her fantasies about him. Celia braved a look in his direction, although she was aware that her cheeks had turned red again. It was almost like he had caught her fantasizing about him, like he knew what she was thinking.
“My grandfather.” She said, fumbling with her words a little. “He needs me. He’s sick.”
Wilder looked away from her, and back to the road again.
“Why now? I don’t remember you ever visiting him before.” He said.
Celia’s brows crossed again. This man was relentless! He was passing one judgment after the other, with no reason. What on Earth did he have against her?
“Because my parents never brought me here. Then I was busy with college and finding a job and…” The words came tumbling out of her, even though she knew that she owed this man no explanation whatsoever.
“We’re here.” He said, cutting her off. He stopped the truck just as suddenly as he had started driving it. Celia’s body yanked against the seatbelt with a sudden pull from the motion of the truck. She nearly screamed from the fright. She decided right then that she wasn’t ever going to get into a car with this rude unkempt cowboy ever again. She couldn’t wait to get out.
She hadn’t noticed where they had stopped till right now. Till she pushed hard against the passenger door to get it open. They were parked at the gate of what could only have been an enormous ranch.
Wilder wasn’t helping her to get the door open. She struggled against it, panting now from the exertion and the anger she was feeling towards him.
“How do you know my grandfather?” She asked, whipping around in her seat to look at him. Grateful that the journey was over and if luck would have it, she would never have to see this man ever again.
“He works for me.” He said, with the first smirk forming on the side of his mouth, a smile that Celia knew could only mean disaster for her. “Welcome to my home.”
Chapter 2
Celia followed Wilder in silence, looking around her in awe. He was carrying both her bags with ease in front of her. None of this was making any sense. Why had he brought her to his home? Why did he drive an old rusty truck when he lived on a ranch like this?
It was enormous, with a mansion that stood in the center of it, and even though Celia couldn’t see them, she could hear the cattle and the horses in the distance. This ranch had to be worth billions. And this man, Wilder, did not look or dress like a billionaire.
They had reached the front steps of the mansion and Wilder lifted the suitcases as he led her into the house. He pushed the screen door open with his foot and then held it open, indicating to her to walk in. Celia did as she was told, entering the mansion with thoughtful steps. She didn’t know what to expect any more.
The inside of the house looked impeccably decorated. It was big, open and airy and had beautiful lace curtains on the windows, bottle green carpeted floors and expensive looking art hanging from the walls. Wilder had followed her in, placing her bags by the front door where he stood.
“Celia?” She heard her grandfather’s voice from somewhere inside the house. Then she saw him, on a wheelchair, sliding into the foyer from one of the rooms near the foot of the long winding staircase. When he came towards her, she didn’t initially recognize him, he looked so different. He was much more frail than she remembered, all his hair had turned white and his eyes looked watery and weak.
“Grandpa!” She cried out and rushed towards him, falling to her knees in front of him. He used to visit her family home in Chicago once a year, every year for the first sixteen years of her life. She had a strong connection with him, waiting for him to visit month after month as a child. He used to take her camping, had taught her to fish and told her made-up stories every night when he tucked her into bed. In the past three years, she hadn’t had a chance to see him. Ever since her own parents passed away in a car accident, and his health started failing, he couldn’t visit her. Then she was caught up with college…and now this.
“Oh grandpa, how are you?” She said, resting her tired head on his warm frail knees. He stroked her hair lovingly, his voice had become thin and weak as well.
“I’m as well as I can be, my darling girl. I’m so happy to see you.” She heard him say. When she looked up at him, he was smiling at her and then he clutched her chin in his hands, just like he used to when she was a child.
“I couldn’t stay away grandpa, I’m here now.” Celia said, her eyes watering as she looked at the old man. The old man from her childhood who used to be so full of energy and kindness and a sense of adventure. She couldn’t believe he was in a wheelchair now.
“Yes you are, you’re finally here.” He said, still smiling at her. All the doubts that Celia had, all the anger she was feeling towards Wilder; had gone. She could see how happy her presence had made her grandfather, and she knew instantly that she had made the right decision.
“But what about your job in New York? Are you sure you can stay here for very long?” He asked her and Celia shook her head.
“Don’t worry about it grandpa, I’ll be fine. That job wasn’t important.” She smiled at him and patted his knees as she straightened herself up.
“I see you’ve met Mr. Moore.” He said then, looking past her and admiringly at Wilder who was still at the door. Celia turned to look at him, caught the grim look on his face and then turned to her grandfather again.
“Yes, he very kindly gave me a lift from the train station. I’m sorry grandpa that I haven’t been in touch, I didn’t know you worked here.” Celia spoke to her gran
dfather softly again. He still had the same kindly smile on his face.
“I’ve worked here at the ranch for fifty years my child. Ever since I was a young boy and Mr. Moore’s father ran the place.” He said, taking Celia’s hands in his. She noticed how bony and cold his hands were, and a chill ran down her spine. How much longer did he have to live? She didn’t want to think about it.
“I see. It’s a lovely place.” She said, without turning to look at Wilder.
“Mr. Moore has offered to put you up in a room beside mine so we can be close to each other. I’ve lived in that room ever since your father moved out of our house.” He continued, patting Celia’s hands now.
“That is very generous of him.” She said, turning to Wilder finally. He was standing with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs parted wide. He was watching them closely, studying her like he was doing previously. She couldn’t imagine what he might be thinking. All of this was too much to take in.
“Ah, is that your granddaughter, Jack?” A different male voice appeared at the top of the stairs. Celia craned her neck to look up and found a young man walking down quickly.
“Yes, it is, Sir.” Her grandfather said, turning his wheelchair to face the stairs now. Celia stood next to him, with her hands held tightly together. She hadn’t heard anyone else in the house till now.
The man bounced down the stairs with a skip in his step. He looked young, in his early twenties, probably the same age as her. His hair was dark and neatly swept aside, like he had spent some time trying to get the style right. His eyes were the same blue as Wilder’s, but just not as deep or intense. He was shorter than Wilder too, and thinner. He had a handsome face, probably a little too handsome in the classic sense. Although, Celia knew instantly that they were brothers.
His face was clean shaven, while Wilder’s jaw was bristly with the shadow of a beard. This man’s hands and feet weren’t as large and he just had a more friendly demeanor. Celia smiled earnestly at him when he approached her with a hand stretched in her direction.
Passion: A Single Dad Small Town Romance Page 60
