Life in the Fast Lane: A BBW Erotic Novella (Western Romance, Billionaire Cowboy, Curvy Girls)

by Laurent, Cassie

  “What story?” asked Jim, confused.

  I realized suddenly that Jim had no idea about this complication.

  “There was an article posted on a gossip website this morning. The cat’s out of the bag. They know about me and Lane, and they know about Fast Lane and the Derby plans.”

  “What does Lane think about all this?”

  “He’s fine. He’s used to this kind of thing, I guess. We’re just worried what else Don might leak. I used to trust him, but now I wouldn’t put it past him to fabricate a story. He’s a desperate man.”

  “You know this puts me in a tough position, Addie. This isn’t what I signed up for when I invited you to help me train these horses,” said Jim, shaking his head, disappointed, but also concerned about me.

  “I know, Jim. And I’m sorry. I don’t even know how this all came about. It just happened so fast. I didn’t mean to put your business in jeopardy. But we’re fine, trust me. We can still train the horses, we can still do our job here. We have two months.”

  “I know. Just please, Addie, promise me this won’t become a distraction for us.”

  “I promise.”

  ~ Lane ~

  After speaking with Adelaide, I got on the phone with Sheila Anderson, my PR rep, to explain the situation.

  “This doesn’t look good, Lane. This really doesn’t look good.”

  “I realize that, but is it really that big of a deal? I’m a businessman, not a celebrity. This story should blow over quickly.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” replied Sheila. “Now that it’s out that you’re entering the Kentucky Derby, they’ll be blasting this story on ESPN. And if there’s anyone who knows how to beat a dead horse, it’s ESPN.”

  “I don’t give a damn about that. Let the media say what they want. I just want to protect Adelaide.”

  “So the rumors are true, at least to some degree?” asked Sheila. “You’ve been seeing this girl.”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, at the very least, I need a statement from you, Lane. I can’t hold off the media outlets much longer. My phone has been ringing off the hook.”

  “Tell them I’m dating Ms. Parker, and beyond that my personal life is none of their business.”

  “What about the Kentucky Derby rumors? Confirm, deny, or no comment?”

  “Confirm.”

  “Do you know who leaked this story?” asked Sheila.

  “One of my staff. Ex-staff.”

  “Can I describe this staff member as disgruntled?”

  “Sure.”

  “Ok. Let me read this back to you: ‘While confirming his intention to enter a horse in the upcoming Kentucky Derby, Mr. Matheson condemns the content of these allegations—put forth by a disgruntled ex-employee—as both slanderous and distasteful. Ms. Parker is his girlfriend and he politely requests that both his privacy and hers be respected at this time. The outstanding issues between Mr. Matheson and the ex-staffer responsible for these reports are to be resolved in a court of law and are not appropriate fodder for public consumption.’ Is that good?”

  “That sounds perfect, Sheila.”

  “Great. I’ve got to go, Lane. I need to get this statement out ASAP. And by the way, don’t be surprised if you’ve got paparazzi swarming the ranch. I’d keep an eye out for trespassers while this story is hot. You might want to hire some temporary security.”

  “Got it. Thanks.”

  “Alright, I gotta go. B-bye.”

  Immediately after hanging up the phone, I put in a call to my attorney John McAvoy. The receptionist transferred me and within minutes I had John on the line.

  “How’s it going, Lane?” he said jovially.

  “Not great, John, not great.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I had hoped you were calling about setting up a tee time. We haven’t hit the links in a long time. But I assume you’ve got business to attend to.”

  “Unfortunately, yes. In case you haven’t heard, I’m part of a scandal that broke on the news today.”

  “Damn, what’s the situation?”

  “The scandal, in and of itself, isn’t too serious. Google my name and I guarantee it will come up. My issue is with the employee, or should I say ex-employee, who leaked the story.”

  “Go on.”

  “He’s threatening a lawsuit after I fired him.”

  “Sounds simple enough.”

  “Well, there’s a bit of a complication. While I was in the process of firing him, I let my temper get the better of me and threw a punch at him in the heat of the moment.”

  “Damn. That’s no good, Lane. You might have to cough up a settlement.”

  “There are some extenuating circumstances. Misconduct by the employee.”

  “Got it. But it’s probably best not to talk about the particulars on this phone line. Are you free this afternoon?”

  “Yes.”

  “Alright. I’m going to have my receptionist clear my schedule and get us a 2:30 PM tee time. We’ll discuss a legal strategy over a round of golf.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I’ll have her contact you with the details. And I’ll see you around 2:30.”

  “Great, thanks John.”

  ~ Adelaide ~

  When I met Lane later that night for dinner, there was a weird tension in the air. He seemed as though he had something important to say, but was waiting for the right moment to say it. Dinner was served, perfectly prepared dishes by his personal chef, but it was hard for me to enjoy them with this awkwardness between us. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore, and I demanded to know what was going on.

  “Lane, you haven’t spoken straight with me all night. I haven’t known you that long, but I’ve spent enough time with you to know something is on your mind. Whatever it is, just tell me.”

  “I spoke with my lawyer today about Don.”

  “Bad news?”

  “Not exactly. Neither good or bad at this point. The reason I’m hesitating to bring this up is that there’s something I need to ask from you.”

  “Well, go ahead, ask me.”

  “I’m warning you. This could be hard on you.”

  “Just spit it out, Lane.”

  “We’re building a case against Don, a countersuit in the event that he tries to bring a lawsuit against me. We need you to give a sworn statement as evidence.”

  “Alright, so what’s the big deal?”

  “It would require you to describe your encounter with him in minute detail. I don’t want to make you have to relive that night again.”

  I looked down at the table, staring into the wood grain as my memories of that horrific night played back in my mind: the fear I’d felt, the look in Don’s eyes, the boozy smell and the way he slurred his words, his objectification of me, his betrayal of Lane and myself, his complete lack of integrity. I shivered, but finally looked up at Lane to give my answer.

  “I can do it. I’m not afraid.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. I’m not letting him get away with this. The last thing I want is for him to leave with a huge settlement after what he did to me. It wouldn’t be right. That wouldn’t be justice.”

  “I agree,” said Lane, reaching a hand across the table to touch mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’re so strong, Adelaide. I’ll do whatever I can to help you through this.”

  “When do I need to give my statement by?”

  “John, my attorney, is going to come over to the ranch tomorrow to ask you some questions. Then he’ll have the interview transcribed, and you’ll sign a copy of it the following day.”

  “Are we going to have to go to court?”

  “Not if this goes well. John thinks that with Don’s past history and a sworn statement from you, he wouldn’t dare push his luck in a court of law.”

  CHAPTER 9

  ~ Adelaide ~

  Reliving my encounter with Don was rough on me. I trembled as Lane held me in his arms that night, too upset to make
love. I just wanted to forget. Lane promised me that soon this would all be over and I’d never have to think of it again. John, Lane’s attorney, seemed satisfied with the result of his questioning. He told Lane that we should have an answer within a week.

  But the sworn statement wasn’t the only aspect of the fallout with Don. Paparazzi began showing up at the ranch shortly after the first article. Most of them never made it past security at the front gate, but a few did, sneaking through the woods and onto the main grounds of the property. Occasionally, camera flashes at the edge of the forest caught my eye. What a life.

  I knew it was me they were after. They wanted to continue spinning their story about me being some gold-digging slut, a narrative no doubt inspired by Don when he’d first leaked it to the media. With each camera flash I shivered; I could only imagine what sort of hyperbolic, click-baiting headline they’d come up to go with it.

  There were two things that kept me sane over the next two months: Lane and his gorgeous race horse.

  The progress Jim and I made with Fast Lane over the course of the remaining days before the Derby was absolutely remarkable. A week after giving my sworn statement, we entered him in his first race, part of the qualification process for the Kentucky Derby. He placed in that first race, showed in the next, and won every single one after that.

  Even though we wanted to stay grounded and realistic, there was a palpable buzz of excitement all around the ranch in those weeks: every single one of us thought Fast Lane had a real chance at bringing home a victory in the Kentucky Derby. Jim and I laughed and slapped each other on the back; it looked like all our hard work would pay off.

  My progress with Lane was going just as smoothly. By now, I was practically living with him in the mansion, coming by for nightly dinners, and at the end of the night always finding my way into the master bedroom. And in the master bedroom I usually found my clothes in a pile on the floor, and my body on hands and knees, with Lane giving it to me rough—just how I like it.

  One night in particular stands out. It was about a week after I’d given my sworn statement to his attorney. Lane had been away for the past few days on business, and that night I was all alone, sitting up in the massive bed in the master bedroom, reading a good book after having spent a long day training Fast Lane.

  Lane was supposed to be back sometime in the next few days. Until then, I was quite lonely. I’d gotten so used to his touch, and we’d just moved so fast since meeting each other, that a few days apart seemed much, much longer than that. I was feeling sleepy; reading in bed always makes me feel sleepy. But I was also turned on, too, finding myself right at the climax of a steamy romance story. Reading about the rough sex of the protagonists made me wish more than anything that my man would come in and fuck me. And as luck would have it…

  ~ Lane ~

  I could easily have stayed in Atlanta that night. I even had a hotel lined up and everything. But with business taken care of, I just wanted to get home to my girl. She didn’t know I was coming home that night, but that made it all the better in my mind. An unexpected visit would make the night even more thrilling.

  It had been days since we’d been in each other’s arms. Even as I walked up the stairs to the master bedroom, I could feel my cock starting to stiffen, making it slightly hard to walk—and there was only one cure for a thing like that. Fortunately, when I opened by bedroom door, I found her lying in wait, perched up on the bed.

  She was wearing sexy lingerie. Did she have some sixth sense that I was coming home tonight? She put her book down when she heard the door open. When she laid eyes on me, her own eyes lit up with the light of the world. It gave me a cold chill, knowing that I could have such an effect on her. It told me how much I must mean to her and how much I still turned her on. I felt exactly the same way about her. If anything, I felt that pull even stronger than she did.

  Instinctively, I put a hand down in front of my crotch, trying to hide the erection that was waiting in my pants. It was almost embarrassing how excited I was already, just at the sight of her in bed. I walked over and took off the suit jacket I’d been wearing, getting up on the bed to sit next to her.

  As soon as I did, Adelaide leaned over and touched a hand to the back of my neck, bringing my face in for a kiss. It was deep and hot, a kiss only shared between lovers who’ve endured a long separation (even though we had only been apart a few days). She let her tongue linger for awhile, flitting in and out playfully. And then before I knew it we were in the full heat of a make out session, lying on the bed together, our hands all over each other’s bodies.

  I let my hand slide down her back, feeling the subtleties of her skin and underlying muscles. When I felt my hand touch the silk of her panties, I gave her ass a hard squeeze and pulled her closer to me, pressing my throbbing cock up against her thigh. I knew she could feel it, rock-hard and ready for her after the long days apart. I grinded up against her, letting her know just how turned on I was.

  Then I slid my fingers under her panties, pulling them to the side so I could touch her perfect, tight pussy. I rubbed her clit slowly, massaging gently, building her up before running my fingertips along her slit a moment later, feeling the wetness that had started to build. I touched her gently, but she grabbed me by the wrist and guided my fingers inside, moaning as they penetrated her. She knew how much I loved hearing that sound, the hot symbolism of her pleasure emitting from her gorgeous mouth.

  I looked up at her as she did it, watching her close her eyes and throw her head back, her top teeth visible as she parted her lips. Oooh, OHHH! She knew I loved that. And I knew she was playing it up, trying to get me more turned on until my cock was so raging hard it almost hurt. I felt it pulse in my pants, throbbing, begging me to take it out and stick it inside her. I wanted her so fucking badly in the moment.

  My cock throbbed even harder when I felt her hand resting on my abs, inching its way down to my pants and slowly undoing my belt. When her soft skin touched against my cock, it throbbed again. She moaned as she slowly massaged me, up and down, telling me how bad she wanted my big cock inside her, how much she wanted to feel my girth stretching her pussy lips.

  “I’m so fucking wet, Lane. Just put it inside me.”

  At first, I couldn’t tell if this was just dirty talk or if she really wanted me that badly, but in seconds I knew. I felt her pulling off my pants and then my boxers, taking my pulsing cock inside her mouth as if she was starving for it. She gave it a few passionate slurps and then climbed on top of me, pushing her panties to the side, not even bothering to take them off as she straddled me.

  She grabbed my hard dick, touching the head up against her slit and then easing down onto me. She was so soaking wet that I slid all the way in—and I groaned uncontrollably. Her pussy was so perfect, so tight and wet. But even more amazing was the way she rode me, like the damn cowgirl that she was.

  She leaned in to kiss me again, her hands on my shoulders, squeezing my muscles in her sexy way. She rode me slowly at first, her passion split between the soft kisses of her lips and her soaking wet pussy. I could tell how much she wanted me then, how connected we felt by the way she touched me. Those slow, rolling motions back and forth, pushing herself down on my cock and grinding so purposefully and rhythmically.

  I cradled her voluptuous ass in my hands, guiding the motions of her hips. Now and then I’d lift myself off the bed, giving a small thrust of my pelvis to drive my cock deeper inside of her. She moaned whenever I did that, sucking on my ear, nibbling and biting it, swirling her tongue inside. She was like an animal sometimes, with urges that only I could satisfy. I drove my cock inside her harder with that thought.

  ~ Adelaide ~

  As I felt Lane’s enormous cock throb inside my pussy, I couldn’t help but moan. I knew he loved it, the sounds of my pleasure, knowing how turned on I was whenever I caught a glimpse of him, knowing that the days apart made the sex even better, hotter, wetter—and eventually, rougher.

  Of course, we
always started slow, a bit of foreplay, hands touching, rubbing, maybe a little suck or lick; all the things that young lovers do, even the inexperienced. But it was never long before the passion transcended those novice levels, and I felt him touching me just how I thought a man should, his tenderness giving way to rough, hot sex.

  We liked it dirty. And by any other account, I might have looked like a no-good, cock-craving slut. And I did crave Lane’s cock, but when I was with him, fucking him like this, I didn’t feel like a slut—I felt like a goddess, part of a mutual, intense lust, just expressing my natural impulses, loving every inch of his skin as he loved mine.

  I gyrated on his cock, enjoying each time he thrust into me. It was a sensual, rhythmic movement, but before long I knew I was in for something rougher. Lane pushed me off and got on top of me, mounting me immediately and thrusting his cock back inside. Hovering above me, his hands on the headboard behind me, I knew he was about to fuck me impossibly hard. He held himself there, the bed giving him leverage as he drove into me, in and out, hard and fast at a pace that matched my syncopated moans.

  I tried to tell him to slow down, that I was going to come too quickly, but I simply couldn’t get the words out. We were both sweaty, feverish from sex. When he leaned in, I licked his neck, tasting him. That soft, wet touch made him go crazy, in deep, long strokes that hit me in all the right places. Clenching my pussy, I moaned, my breath short, coming in gasps now and little whimpers. He knew I didn’t want him to stop now, not when my orgasm was building inside of me like this.

  Digging my nails into the skin of his back, I screamed in passion and ecstasy, my orgasm flooding me in one gigantic wave that rolled through my body, numbing me all the way to my toes, feeling like pins and needles, positively tingling and vibrating all over my body. I held him there, deep inside me, moaning into his ear, licking him, sucking at him, begging for more.