The Billionaire Bull Rider

by Kate Pearce

  “Ah.” Graham sipped his brandy. “How long do you believe you will remain competitive? From what I understand, it is a sport with a high attrition rate.”

  “I’m not intending to keep it up until I’m forty if that’s what you are asking. I’d be a fool to do that. I’d like to retire with all my bones intact.”

  “And after that?”

  “I don’t know.” Rio paused. “Why does it matter to you?”

  Graham put his glass down. “It might have escaped your notice, but you are my only child.”

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  “Then you must also be aware that at one time I was training you to be my successor.”

  “I walked out on that life. I walked out on you,” Rio pointed out. “You disinherited me.”

  “I assumed I would have other children.” Graham interlocked his fingers, and stared down at them. “Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.”

  Rio had a horrible sense he knew what was coming next.

  “So, by default, that brings me back to you,” Graham said. “You are my only son and heir.”

  “Whom you disinherited, and by the way, I’m quite okay with that,” Rio said evenly.

  “I’m offering you a seat on the board and enough stock to keep you invested in working to improve the company.”

  Before his father finished speaking, Rio was already shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.”

  “What financial arrangement would be enough to interest you?”

  “It isn’t about money. Don’t you get that? Look, you’re not that old. Keep trying for son number two, or even daughter number one, and keep running everything until he’s old enough to take over.”

  “It’s not that simple. I—”

  Rio finished his brandy in one swallow and stood up. “It’s been a nice evening. Let’s not end it with a pointless argument, okay?”

  Graham looked up at him. “I’d like you to at least consider the idea.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, despite everything, you are still my son. I would prefer my business interests to be kept in the family.”

  “A son you banished from your house at the age of seven and barely bothered to acknowledge until I was old enough to work for you. A child you kept from his mother in your vicious little divorce battle until you won and then never gave me another thought. Why the hell would you think I would want to work for you?”

  “Because you have the talent and ability, and you’re refusing to use your skills.”

  Rio shrugged. “I have other talents.”

  “Riding a bull?” Graham made a dismissive gesture. “Anyone can do that.”

  “Yeah? You’ve tried it yourself? You wouldn’t last a damn second.”

  “Probably, but as you said, it’s hardly a lifetime career, is it?” Graham sighed. “Look. Your mother has forgiven me. Why can’t you? Maybe the problem isn’t me, Aurelio—maybe it’s you. Maybe you are the one who is incapable of moving forward, and letting go of the past.”

  “I’m quite happy to be the problem,” Rio said. “I’ve let go of the past. I just don’t see myself in your future. Is that so difficult to understand?”

  “Yes.”

  Rio stared at his father. “You’re kidding me, right? And while we’re talking, because I doubt I’ll be seeing you again, how about you sell me Mom’s ranch?”

  Graham’s slow smile made all the hairs on the back of Rio’s neck stand up.

  “So you do want something from me after all.”

  “If you make this about my mother, I will do everything in my power to bring you down,” Rio warned.

  “Bring me down?” Graham chuckled. “Unlikely, with your financial resources—and yes, I do know what you have in the bank, son. But I don’t actually want to fight with you either, so let’s do this. You consider the proposal I’ll send you about coming onboard, and I’ll consider selling you the ranch.”

  “What’s the point? I’ll still turn it down,” Rio countered.

  “You’ll read the proposal, and respond to it in a way that ensures I know you have at least read it through. If you do that, I will open up negotiations on the sale of your mother’s ranch to you.” Graham stood and held out his hand. “Deal?”

  Rio considered walking out for at least thirty seconds, and then reluctantly shook his father’s hand.

  “Deal.”

  Inside, he was furious with himself for allowing his father to use his mother against him, but he’d been the stupid ass who’d brought her up.

  “Then why don’t we rejoin the ladies? Your friend Yvonne is very nice.”

  “A, she’s too smart to be fooled by you, and b, she’s way too old for you.” Rio glared at his father as he opened the study door.

  “And, c, you like her very much yourself, don’t you?”

  “We’re just good friends,” Rio said calmly. “She’s not really into dating right now.”

  “I’m sure you could convince her otherwise.”

  “Nope.” Rio headed down the stairs. “And we’d better be going soon. Yvonne has some work to finish up tonight.”

  “Then why don’t you take her back to her hotel, and I’ll make sure your mother and Josie get back safely?”

  “It depends on what Mom wants to do,” Rio said. “Let’s check in with her first.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Yvonne unlocked her hotel door and turned to Rio, who was standing right behind her. He’d been unusually quiet on the taxi ride back, and she wasn’t quite sure why.

  “Would you like to come in for coffee, or are you heading out?” Yvonne asked.

  He looked at her as if he’d never seen her before. “Coffee? Yeah, that would be great, thanks.”

  He followed her into the room, where she immediately kicked off her shoes. “I’ve just got to text Avery, and make sure everything’s going okay in the café, so make yourself at home.”

  “Will do.”

  He removed his jacket and walked over to stare out over the city while she texted away, and received all the reassurance she required from Avery and her very efficient sister, Marley, who was basically running the place.

  “Seems like everything is going well.” Yvonne breathed out a huge sigh of relief. “Even Tom’s behaving himself.”

  “Good to hear.”

  She walked over to where Rio was standing and put a tentative hand on his rigid shoulder.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m . . .” He sighed. “I’m sorry, I’ve got a lot to think about. I’m not the best company right now, am I? Do you want me to leave?”

  “How about we have that coffee, and you can tell me what’s up?”

  “I’m not sure—”

  Yvonne poked him in the chest. “Don’t go all male on me.”

  He almost smiled. “I am male.”

  “Yes, but you shouldn’t clam up when you have something on your mind, and think that jamming it down inside you will make it go away.”

  “Men do that?”

  “You know they do.” She looked him right in the eye. “We’re supposed to be friends. Friends share things.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair. “Okay, let’s start with the coffee and see how it goes from there.”

  She went to the bathroom, and then tended to the coffee Rio had started while he did the same. She decided to leave the drapes open, as the city view was quite spectacular, and curled up on the couch.

  “Thanks for this.” He set his cup on the coffee table beside hers, and took up position on the other end of the couch.

  “Where do you want to start?” Yvonne asked, sitting forward, her hands wrapped around her mug. “I assume this has something to do with your father, who, by the way, was quite charming to me.”

  “He’s always charming, and he never loses his temper.”

  “Really? Mind, you don’t lose your temper either, do you?”

  “I learned early on that he wouldn’t tolera
te it.” A shadow darkened his eyes and was quickly replaced with a smile. “Trust me, he can still do damage with a smile.”

  “I suspect he’s used to getting his own way,” Yvonne said cautiously. “And he probably hates that you’re independent of him.”

  “Yeah, that about sums it up.” He took a sip of coffee and stared off into space again until Yvonne sighed.

  “You’re not very good at this.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re supposed to be sharing with me, remember?”

  “I am.”

  “No, you’re prevaricating.”

  “That’s not allowed?”

  “Nope.” She waved him on. “Come on, spit it out. What happened?”

  “Can’t you guess? As I’m his only son, he wants me to come back and work for him.”

  Yvonne put her coffee down on the table. “He’s been married four times, and he only has one kid? What’s wrong with him? That’s getting toward Henry VIII territory.”

  “Now who’s changing the subject?”

  “I’m not changing the subject. I’m just commenting on an aspect of it—keep up! So you told him to get lost, right?” She looked expectantly at him.

  He was studying his coffee mug as if it was full of flies. “No. I . . . agreed to look at his proposal.”

  “Why?” Yvonne demanded. “What could he possibly have said that made you backtrack like that?”

  He shot to his feet and walked away from her. “This talking stuff out obviously isn’t working. Maybe I should go.”

  Yvonne got off the couch in a mad scramble, and went after him. “Don’t you dare stop now.”

  He swung around to face her. “Why, when you obviously can’t be bothered to give me a fair hearing, and have jumped to all kinds of conclusions?”

  “The only person jumping to conclusions here is you!” Yvonne glared at him. “What’s really going on inside your head?”

  “Maybe I’m just sick and tired of people trying to tell me how to live my life!”

  “I merely asked why you would even listen to him! That’s a perfectly reasonable question! You just overreacted, which usually means you know you’re in the wrong.” She poked him in the chest. “You are the problem here, not me.”

  “Wow, now you sound just like my father.” He grabbed hold of her wrist. “Thanks for nothing.”

  “If I was in my kitchen right now, I’d go for you with my rolling pin or a nice iron-cast pan to knock some sense into you,” Yvonne said fiercely.

  “Yeah? Like you could hit me. I’m way stronger than you are.”

  “So now you’re making this into a pissing contest?”

  “Nope.” He bent his head and snatched a savage kiss. “I am thinking about hog-tying you to that bed though.”

  “What?” Yvonne’s words were muffled as his mouth again descended, stilling all her rational thoughts. She managed to wrench her mouth away. “This isn’t helpful.”

  “It’s damn well helping me.” Rio wrapped an arm around her waist, and jerked her hard against his body. “Kiss me.”

  “But—”

  “Kiss me. Please.”

  “Oh, for goodness sake.” Yvonne cupped the back of his head, and brought his lips to hers. “I can see I won’t get any more sense out of you right now.”

  His arm tightened until she was plastered against him from knee to shoulder while his hands made a leisurely tour of inspection over her uncovered back. He kissed her like it was his last day on earth, with so much pent-up need and heat that she luxuriated in the sensations and gave them right back to him. She wanted to protect him, to offer him everything she was to take the hurt from his eyes.

  He backed up against the nearest wall and slid his knee between her thighs raising her almost off her feet as she rubbed herself shamelessly against him. As his fingers flexed against her skull, her hair fell around her shoulders and he made an approving noise as he fanned her hair.

  “I want you,” Rio murmured against her lips. “I want you first and then we’ll talk, okay?”

  “What about all the reasons why that’s not a good idea?” Yvonne gasped.

  “To hell with those reasons.” He hesitated. “I . . . need this. I need you.”

  Something inside her responded to that need, and she stroked an unsteady finger over his mouth.

  “Do you promise to talk to me afterward?”

  “If I can still breathe, yes.”

  “Then, okay.”

  With a murmured prayer, he swept her up into his arms, and headed for the bed, laying her gently on the cover, and following her down a second later. She braced herself, but he did nothing but stare down at her.

  “What?”

  “You are so damned beautiful,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  She touched a fingertip to her lower lip. “How about here?”

  With a stifled sound, he bent down, and kissed her gently on the lips. “Yeah, that’s definitely working for me.”

  She pointed to her throat. He made a leisurely journey down past her jawline, nipping her earlobe, which made her shudder, and then kissed her neck. The slight abrasion of his stubbled chin made her stomach do all kinds of somersaults. She reached for him, only to have both her wrists caught within one of his strong hands.

  “Hog-tied, remember?” he whispered in her ear.

  “Not happening.”

  He drew her wrists over her head. “This okay?”

  “If you must.”

  “Oh, I must.” He scraped his teeth down her throat, and she squirmed against him, her hips rising to meet the hardness in his jeans. “I like this.”

  With his free hand, he undid the halter neck of her dress, and drew it away from her skin, his breath hitching as he stared down at her.

  “No bra.”

  “Duh.”

  “Thank you, Lord.” He leaned in and kissed the swell of her breast, capturing her nipple in his mouth and drawing on it until she was writhing against him. His hand moved lower, gathering up the soft folds of her skirt to explore underneath.

  Eventually, he went still again and muttered something against her breast.

  “No panties.” He raised himself up on his elbow to stare into her face. “Were you like that all through dinner?”

  “Would you have liked that?” Yvonne asked innocently.

  He just about managed to nod, his pupils turning black with what she concluded had to be sheer lust.

  She decided to leave him guessing, not wanting him to know she’d actually spent precious moments wrangling with her spandex in the bathroom when they’d got back. Her dress was very unforgiving of the slightest curve.

  He cupped her mound, and she forgot about teasing him as he gently played and stroked her with his long, strong fingers. She was more than ready for him as he drew her dress down over her hips and threw it onto the floor. With a growl, he finally released her hands and kissed his way down over her belly and the jut of her hip, to just where she needed him most.

  She tangled her fingers in his hair as he pleasured her, pressing shamelessly against him until his teeth grazed her throbbing center, and she climaxed. He made a humming sound against her thigh, and started again, which should’ve been unfair, but somehow just doubled her enjoyment.

  “Take this off.” She yanked at the back of his shirt loosening it from his jeans. “Now.”

  “Do it for me. I’m busy.”

  She pulled his hair.

  “Ouch!” He reared back onto his knees.

  She helped out anyway, practically strangling him when she didn’t open quite enough buttons to allow her to pull the shirt over his head. His torso emerged, the soft gleam of his tanned muscled skin an enticement to lick, and kiss, and . . .

  “Now the belt.”

  He fumbled with the large silver buckle and eased open the top button of his jeans so slowly that Yvonne batted his hands away.

  “Faster!”

>   “Not happening unless you want this show to be over before it starts.” He breathed out so hard his abs flexed, and Yvonne had to pause to admire the amazing sight. “Let me do it.”

  He slowly lowered the zipper, and Yvonne pounced, shoving his jeans away from his hips, and closed in on her target. She licked the damp cotton that barely contained his hardness.

  “You wore boxers.”

  “Yeah.” He sounded like he was breathing through his teeth. “Don’t do that.”

  “What, this?” She curled her tongue around him, and he groaned. “Don’t you like it?”

  A second later, she was flat on her back, and he was holding her in place with his hips.

  “Next time, you can do what you want with me, but this one is all for you.”

  Yvonne sighed. “Again?”

  He shucked his jeans, socks, and boots so fast she blinked.

  “I figure that if I get first go, you won’t have time to fall asleep on me.”

  “Maybe you’d better do it fast then.”

  He glanced down at his aroused body. “Don’t think I have a choice about that.”

  She leaned over to the bedside table and showed him her makeup bag, which she’d brought through from the bathroom. “Condoms in here.”

  “Thanks.”

  As he covered himself, his smile was somewhere between grateful, blissful, and desperate, which did all kinds of good things to her. Then he was moving over her, and she forgot everything except the heat and scent of him, the surge of power as he filled her, and the two seconds it took after that for her to start coming.

  * * *

  Rio gritted his teeth and hung on like the world-champion bull rider he was. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be lasting eight seconds, but he didn’t think Yvonne would be very impressed by his score. It was hard not to let go when the woman of his dreams was thrashing and moaning beneath him as she climaxed in long, shuddering waves that drew him in, and kept him chained deep inside her.

  Breathing through his nose, he counted backward from a hundred, enduring the little aftershocks and clenches until Yvonne lay still beneath him again. She raised a languid hand, and touched his cheek.

  “Okay, you can stop now. I’m going to sleep.”