Big Bad Cowboy: A Billionaire and a Virgin Romance

by Tia Siren

  I read the paragraph without touching the document. “In the event of the death of Pearl Alice Ramirez, biological mother to Jefferson Davis Blackstone, Junior, all parental rights and guardianship of Jefferson Davis Blackstone, Junior, shall be assumed by…” I looked up at Wesley. He looked like he was about to bust from holding back a smile. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “Guardianship shall be assumed by Conner Blackstone,” Wesley said, spinning the document around and tapping the finger to my name. “You’re the boy’s legal guardian now, Con. Like it or not, he is now your responsibility.”

  I sat back and blew out a long whiskey-scented breath. Wesley closed the file and his mouth, knowing this was news that was going to have to sink in for a moment.

  The flight attendant came back with the bottle of Jack to refill our glasses. She put her hand on my shoulder and asked if there was anything else I needed. We both knew what she meant, but I just shook my head. Not even a blow job from those lips would have put me in a good mood.

  I know. I had no right to complain. I’m Conner Blackstone, the thirty-year-old billionaire CEO of Blackstone Enterprises, a company that produces more oil and beef cattle than any other privately-held company in the state of Texas, if not the world.

  I have more money than I could ever spend, more cars and houses and stuff than I could ever use, more women than I could ever fuck, and a little brother I could never love because he reminded me of my old man and all the baggage that came with him.

  I fell back in the plush leather seat and rested my cheek on my fist. I stared out the window at the darkness. “So what now?”

  “The boy is in the care of his aunt for the moment,” Wesley said, “but the attorney expects you to take custody of him as soon as possible. If you refuse to assume custody, then you’ll be sued for half of your inheritance. We’d fight, of course, but odds are we’d lose. The kid is your father’s son and is entitled to his birthright, whether you like it or not.”

  “Great,” I sighed. “Why couldn’t the old bastard just keep his dick in his pants?”

  Wesley glanced over his shoulder at the flight attendant and gave me a knowing smile. “Why can’t you?” When I didn’t answer, he tapped his knuckles on the table. “I’ll talk to the kid’s lawyer in the morning and buy us a couple of weeks. In the meantime, why don’t we get away for a little rest and relaxation? You look like you could use it.”

  I gave him an apathetic shrug. “What are you thinking?”

  “The fall season at Big Sky Ranch starts next week,” Wesley said. “Why don’t we go for opening weekend? Get a massage or two. Eat some fresh-cut steaks. Fuck some cute tourists. Ride the range like real cowboys rather than corporate dandies? Like we used to when we were kids.”

  “Not a terrible idea,” I said with a heavy sigh. I hadn’t been to Big Sky Ranch in years. It was a working cattle ranch south of Amarillo but was open to tourists in the spring and fall to help allay the costs of running the place year-round.

  I called it a “dude ranch” once in front of my dad and I thought he was going to deck me.

  “It’s not a fuckin’ dude ranch, boy,” I remember him saying. “I grew up on that ranch. That’s where I learned all the things I needed to know to be a man. You wouldn’t last a day working a saddle there, so watch your mouth.”

  The ranch covered 75,000 acres and had a main house that was over 38,000 square feet, with twenty-five guest rooms, a five-star restaurant, an indoor pool, a theater, a game room, a gym, and all the amenities you’d expect at the finest hotels in New York City.

  There were also bunkhouses for the twenty or so employees that lived there year around, and room for another thirty or so that came in to work just for the tourist seasons.

  Guests could ride the horses, help round up and brand cattle, shoot guns, learn to rope and ride, and play cowboy and cowgirl, all for just two-thousand dollars a day.

  “Con? What do you think?”

  I shot him a quick glance as I pushed myself out of the chair and smiled at the flight attendant. Maybe a blow job would make things better after all.

  “Make the arrangements and we’ll go on Monday,” I said, giving his shoulder a pat as I passed by. “And we’ll worry about dad’s little bastard later.”

  I knew Wesley was probably shaking his head in disgust behind me as I walked toward Patsy with my hands unbuckling my belt, but I didn’t care.

  All I could think about at that moment was shoving my cock deep into Patsy’s pretty mouth and coming on her pretty face.

  Dad’s little bastard, the lawyers, the entire world outside this plane could kiss my rosy red ass.

  Conner Blackstone was in charge.

  And there wasn’t anything that was going to change that.

  Nothing.

  CHAPTER THREE: Miranda

  While Scotty read the twins the story, the false promise of a cell phone still ringing in his ears, I took my cell phone outside to sit on the tiny patio out back of the apartment.

  The patio was a six-by-six-foot slab of cracking concrete that held two rickety lawn chairs I’d found on the side of the road. I usually sat out there late at night, after the twins were asleep and Scotty was god knows where, just taking in the warm night air and staring up at the stars.

  “Hey, Wanda Jean. Sorry about that,” I said with a long sigh. “I was getting the twins to bed. What’s up?”

  “I have amazing news for you!” she said, doing her best Oprah impression. “How would you like to accompany me to Big Sky Ranch & Spa for a month of fun, sun, and manual labor?”

  I felt the breath catch in my throat. “Wanda Jean, are you saying I got the job?”

  “I just got off the phone with my friend at the staffing agency,” she said excitedly. “I told her that you were getting your degree in physical therapy in the spring and would make an amazing masseuse for the fall season that starts on Monday!”

  “Monday?” The breath I’d been holding whined from my lungs like air escaping from a balloon. “That’s in three days.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Well, first of all, I’m not getting my degree in the spring because I can’t afford the tuition. And second of all, I don’t know if I can find someone to watch the twins on such short notice.”

  “You’ll have the tuition to finish the courses online if you work at Big Sky for a month,” she said. “The pay is amazing and the tips are incredible. You’ll make more money in a month than you would make in six months at the freakin’ Red Lobster!”

  “But the boys. I don’t have anyone to watch the twins.”

  “Leave them with Scotty,” she said seriously.

  “Wanda Jean, Scotty can barely keep himself alive. Do you really think I’d leave the twins in his care?”

  “Miranda, stop making excuses!” she yelled. “When I told you that I would be working at Big Sky as sous chef again this year you asked if there was any job you might do. I told the staffing lady about you and she said they were all full except for this one masseuse position, which pays twice as much as housekeeping or waitressing.”

  “I know, but—”

  “There ain’t no buts here, girl,” Wanda Jean said, her thick Texas accent drawing out the words like a melody. “You took all those massage classes when you were in school. You could be a masseuse with your eyes closed and you know it.”

  “I know, but—”

  “And you need the money. I know you do.”

  “But the twins…”

  “Didn’t you tell me that the twins had an aunt somewhere close by?”

  “Not that close by. Helen’s sister lives in Lakeview.”

  “That’s perfect! Lakeview is on the way to Amarillo, which is where Big Sky is located,” Wanda Jean said merrily, as if she’d just had an epiphany. “Call her and ask if you can drop the twins off for a month on your way.”

  I blinked at the night sky. I could see the twinkling red light of a plane high above. Helen’s sister
had told me several times that she and her husband would be glad to take the twins outright. I would never give up custody of my little brothers, but if she would just keep them for a month, that could be the answer to all my prayers.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll call her tomorrow and see if she can keep the twins. Scotty will just have to survive here for a month.”

  “I need to tell the staffing lady that you’re definitely coming,” Wanda Jean said. “She’s going to hire someone else if you can’t do it.”

  “I’ll do it,” I said, more to myself than to her. “Call her back and tell her that I’ll take the job.”

  Wanda Jean squealed into the phone. “Awesome! Okay, we can drive up together. It’s about seven hours, so we’ll need to leave early Monday morning to drop off the twins and be in Amarillo by Monday afternoon.”

  “Sounds great,” I said. I thanked her profusely and hung up the phone.

  I sat with my eyes closed for a moment, just listening to the sound of my own breathing.

  For the first time in a long time my heart was beating in my chest and it wasn’t from anger or frustration.

  It was because, for the first time in a long time, I had something to actually look forward to.

  Big Sky Ranch & Spa, here I come!

  CHAPTER FOUR: Miranda

  Oh my god, what an exhausting ride! Four hours in the car with the four-year-old twins screaming from the backseat would have worn anyone out, but I thought poor Wanda Jean was going to just open the door and leap from the car by the time we dropped them at Helen’s sister’s house in Lakeview.

  Wanda Jean stayed in the car, smoking a much-needed cigarette, while I took the twins inside and got them situated. Honestly, I would not have been surprised if Wanda Jean had taken off without me. I was used to the twins’ noise, but in her words, “It was like driving for four hours with your head in a blender!” I was pretty sure Wanda Jean would never have kids.

  The last two hours of the trip were heavenly. Wanda Jean and I rode with the radio blasting and the windows down and the wind in our hair. We drank Cokes and ate peanuts and chatted like two girls who didn’t have a care in the world. There was no one barking orders at me or tugging at my pant leg or threatening to fire me if I didn’t get the fucking shrimp out to table three. It was one of the best times I’d had in a long time.

  “Did you Google the place like I told you to?” she asked as we veered off Interstate 287 to take the exit to Goodnight, Texas, the nearest little town to Big Sky Ranch & Spa.

  “I did,” I said excitedly, as if I was going there to relax rather than to work my ass off. “It looks amazing.”

  “It is way more than amazing,” she said. This would be Wanda Jean’s third season working at Big Sky, which, in her mind, made her an authority on the subject. “You will work your ass off, but there’s lots of downtime, too, and they let you ride the horses and use the pool and eat for free. And if you’re lucky, you’ll get laid every night you’re there by a different cowboy!”

  “Wanda Jean, stop,” I said, rolling my eyes. She just cackled at me. I wasn’t sure how we got to be such good friends, because we were absolutely nothing alike.

  I was a good Southern Baptist girl from Fort Worth who’d never even had a man’s hands under my shirt, and Wanda Jean was always the life of the party. With her black hair and dark Latino features, not to mention her huge boobs, Wanda Jean never failed to catch a man’s eye, or open her legs to him.

  She had told me stories of her previous stints at Big Sky. She’d had sex with the head chef, a couple of cowhands, a bartender, and one very wealthy guest who had bought her the car we were riding in. I was pretty sure Wanda Jean loved to work at Big Sky not because it looked good on her resume, but for the sex and the benefits that came with it.

  Personally, I was a little horrified at the mere thought of having sex with anyone. I’d never been with a man before and was not the promiscuous type. That was not to say that I didn’t have urges I satisfied myself some nights when I was alone in my room.

  I was like most other women my age. I was a sexual being, maybe even more so than most. Just because I was a virgin didn’t mean I didn’t have desires and fantasies.

  I longed for a man to put his hands on my body, to massage my breasts and squeeze my nipples, to taste the juices that flowed from between my legs, to press his naked body to mine.

  I longed for the feeling of a man’s cock in my hand as I guided him toward the cherry that waited deep inside me. Just the thought of it made me wet.

  But that was not what going to Big Sky was about for me. This was about working my ass off and making enough money to finish my degree so I could get a good-paying job as a physical therapist.

  I had three brothers to raise, brothers who depend on me because they had no one else they could depend on. The last thing I needed was a man to complicate my life.

  My brothers always came first.

  That was how it had always been and how it would always be.

  Period.

  CHAPTER FIVE: Conner

  Fuck, I was tired of travelling. It seemed like I spent my entire life on airplanes these days, travelling from one business meeting to the next, or in the back of a car stuck in traffic jams for hours.

  I spent so much time in hotels that I didn’t even remember what my luxury penthouse in Dallas or the beach house in Malibu even looked like.

  Wesley and I touched down at Amarillo Airport just after noon on Monday and immediately climbed onto the helicopter that would ferry us to Big Sky Ranch & Spa fifty miles away.

  My old man would have shit a brick if he knew the marketing people had tacked on the word “Spa” to his beloved Big Sky Ranch. He would have shit an even bigger brick if he knew we now rented the place out to city slickers two months out of the year.

  Wesley tried to talk to me again about my dad’s little bastard, but I shut him down quickly. I didn’t want to think about the kid, not this weekend. I was coming to Big Sky to decompress and relax for a few days. I didn’t want to talk business or think about the price of beef cattle or the price of crude oil coming out of the Gulf. I just wanted to forget who I was and shrug the weight of the world off my shoulders for a little while.

  And if I got to stick my big cock into something strange and sweet while I was there, all the better. I was tired of fucking groupies and socialites and party girls and flight attendants.

  I wanted to fuck someone who didn’t know who I was.

  I wanted fuck someone who wasn’t looking for a payoff.

  I wanted to fuck someone who didn’t know Conner Blackstone from Adam.

  The problem was, I didn’t think that girl existed.

  And if she did, I seriously doubted I’d find her at Big Sky Ranch & Spa.

  * * *

  “I forget how breathtakingly beautiful this place is,” Wesley said as we stood on the balcony of the private chateau where we’d be spending the weekend. The chateau was 4,000 square feet of logs and natural woods built into the hillside looking down on Big Sky Ranch and the surrounding grounds. From his vantage point, Wesley could see the lodge, the stables, the bunk houses, the corrals, and the wide expanse of pasture land covered with beef cattle. That was one of the differences between Wesley and I. He saw heads of cattle. I saw stacks of hundred dollar bills.

  “So, do you want to just rest for a while before the employee orientation, or do you want to go for a ride?” Wesley asked, turning to face me. I was sitting at a marble table on the balcony with my legs stretched out and my face turned toward the sky. I had my eyes closed behind my expensive sunglasses.

  “I’m actually thinking about getting a massage,” I said, leaning forward with my elbows planted on my knees. I let my head hang and rubbed the back of my neck, which felt like it was in knots. “What time’s the staff meet-and-greet thing?”

  Wesley looked at his watch. “The employee orientation is scheduled for three to give everyone time to get here. I told Max, the gener
al manager, to have all the employees together so you could officially welcome them. You have plenty of time.”

  “Okay,” I said, blowing out a long breath. “Hopefully there’s a masseuse here already.”

  “Want me to call over and make sure?” Wesley asked.

  “Nah, I’m a big boy,” I said, pushing myself out of the chair. I stretched my arms toward the sky and blew out a long breath. “I’ll just mosey on over and see if there’s someone in the spa with big tits and strong hands who can work out these kinks in my back.”

  Wesley shook his head at me. “Which is more important? Big tits or strong hands?”

  “Normally I’d say big tits,” I said with a grin, “but at this point I’d settle for the strong hands.”

  CHAPTER SIX: Miranda

  Wanda Jean and I arrived at Big Sky Ranch just after lunch on Monday. We hurriedly stowed our things in the women’s bunkhouse, which was a hundred times nicer than my little apartment.

  The bunk house was basically a huge log cabin that had an open living area with saddle-leather couches in the shape of a “U” set facing an enormous stone fireplace that had the head of a longhorn steer over the mantle. The sheer width of the horns was a little disconcerting at first, but I grew up in Fort Worth, so seeing the severed head or just the horns of a steer was nothing new to me. Heck, half the Cadillacs in Texas had steer horns mounted on the hoods.

  There was a fully stocked kitchen and dining room combo, three full bathrooms with tubs and showers, and ten bedrooms that each held a set of twin beds and a large dresser for storage.

  “Okay,” Wanda Jean said, looking at her watch as we stepped across the wide, plank porch of the bunkhouse. “There is an employee orientation at three, so I’m going to go to the kitchen and see if anyone is there yet. You should probably check in at the spa to get yourself acquainted with the manager and the other masseuses.”

  “That sounds great,” I said, feeling more than a little nervous. I didn’t realize that I was wringing my hands. Wanda Jean saw the look in my eye and reached for my hand.