Big Bad Cowboy: A Billionaire and a Virgin Romance

by Tia Siren

  “You are going to do great,” she said, giving my hand a squeeze. “Just remember, be nice to the guests, especially the rich older men. They’re the ones who tip the best.”

  “Got it,” I said with a grin. “Uh, can you show me where the spa is?”

  She held on to my hand and we literally skipped like little girls across the dusty yard and into the employee entrance at the back of the massive lodge. Wanda Jean pointed me in one direction and she went in another. I took a deep breath and didn’t let it out until I saw the words “SALON & SPA” etched into a thick glass door down the hallway ahead of me.

  This is your chance, I told myself. Try not to screw it up.

  * * *

  The Salon & Spa manager was a super-nice, older lady named Carla, who welcomed me with a hug and gave me a tour of the facility. I was the first one there, so I think she was just happy to have someone to talk to.

  “The hair salon is through there,” Carla said as she led me down a long hallway off the lobby. She pointed to the large open area beyond the glass. There were six stylist stations with barber chairs, six sinks for hair washing, and three old-style hair dryers. The walls were covered in mirrors. It almost looked like the Cost Cutters where I got my hair cut, only a thousand times nicer and much more expensive.

  “The mani-pedi area is there,” Carla said. “And the massage rooms are down here at the end of the hall.” She opened a door so I could look inside. “There are three identical rooms, each with a massage table and a station with oils, lotions, that sort of thing. There’s a CD player and an assortment of CDs with relaxing music. There are scented candles in the drawer. Guest can book thirty, sixty, and ninety minute massages.” She glanced down. “Can I see your hands?”

  “Sure,” I said, holding out my hands with my fingers outstretched. She took my hands in hers and gave them a squeeze. “Good, strong hands. You’ll need them in this job. You will probably have ten to twelve clients a day. Some will want deep tissue massages; others will barely want you to touch them.”

  “I understand,” I said with a smile. “I’m used to being on my feet all day, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do fine,” she said, patting my arm. “There is one more thing I have to warn you about. Some of the male guests may come in with the wrong idea and get a little frisky on you.”

  I frowned at her. “The wrong idea?”

  She peered down the hallway to make sure we were alone. “Some of the men may want you to, you know.” She curled her fingers into a circle and made a pumping motion with them. “Give them a happy ending.”

  “Really?” I sucked air in through my teeth. “Oh my god, what do I do?”

  “You politely tell them that we don’t offer that level of service here,” Carla said with a grin. Obviously, she was amused by my reaction. “If there’s a problem, just come get me.”

  “Wow, okay,” I said, probably much more shocked than I should have been. I wasn’t a prude. There had been an abundance of happy ending jokes in every massage class I ever took. But to be faced with such a reality…well…it was just a little scary to me. And maybe even a little exciting.

  Carla turned toward the table that held the bottles of lotions and oils. There was a red button on the side of the table. She tapped a finger to it.

  “If, for whatever reason, you can’t get out of the room, just push this button and I’ll come running.”

  I stared at the button as if it would launch a nuclear strike. “Has anyone ever had to push that button before because a guest got out of hand? No pun intended.”

  She smiled. “It’s happened a few times, sweetie, but don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle whatever comes your way…no pun intended.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN: Conner

  I shucked out of my Armani suit and pulled on a pair of old jeans and a torn Nirvana T-shirt that had probably hung in the closet at the chateau since my college days.

  I left the two-thousand-dollar alligator cowboy boots in the closet and slipped on an old pair of sneakers I’d left there sometime before. I had to grin when I looked in the mirror over the dresser. I did not look like a billionaire cattle and oil baron. I looked like a punk kid about to go to a rave. I found an old Dallas Cowboys cap in the closet. I set it on my head and pulled the bill down low over my eyes.

  I went down the path that led from the chateau to the lodge. The place wasn’t officially open to guests until the next day, but it was buzzing with employees arriving and vendors trucking in the ton of food we’d need for the next two weeks.

  A few of the ranch hands recognized me and waved. I just gave them a bob of my chin and went around to the employee entrance in the back of the lodge, knowing that if I came in through the lobby, Max, the manager, would have to make a big deal about it.

  I found the Salon & Spa easily enough, though it had been a long time since I’d visited the place. The last time I was here I fucked a masseuse in the ass on one of the massage tables in the middle of the afternoon. It was a hell of a rush. Who knew, maybe I’d get lucky again.

  I pushed through the thick glass door and entered the salon’s lobby. There was a tall counter and a few chairs for guests to wait in. One wall was covered in shampoos, conditioners, lotions, and oils, all with the Big Sky Ranch logo on them. I had to hand it to the marketing people; they did a great job of taking the guests’ money.

  There was no one in the lobby, so I went around the counter and stood in the doorway that opened to the long hallway that led to the various spa treatment rooms.

  I called out “hello” a few times and was about to leave, thinking that the staff had not arrived yet, when I heard music coming from the last room at the end of the hall.

  I walked down the hallway, peering into the unoccupied rooms as I went. When I came to the last door I saw that it was a massage room and there was someone there.

  It was a girl with a long blond ponytail that went from the crown of her head to halfway down her back. She was wearing a tight T-shirt that stopped above the small of her back and a pair of yoga pants that showed every perfect curve of her hips and her bubbly ass.

  I let my eyes drift down her long legs, to her muscular calves and perfect ankles. I felt my cock starting to grow, pushing against my tight jeans like a cobra struggling to get out of a burlap sack.

  She was facing a table covered with lotions and oils, humming to the soft music coming from the CD player as she examined the labels. I didn’t want to scare her, so I tapped on the door to let her know I was there. When she turned around, I came face to face with the most natural beauty I’d ever seen.

  She wasn’t wearing a lick of makeup. She didn’t need it. Her skin was naturally tanned by the sun. Her eyes were cat-like, like two pools of blue water that nearly took my breath away. She seemed startled for just a moment, and then she gave me a smile that burned into my memory like a brand on cow’s hide.

  “Can I help you?” she asked. She was holding a tall bottle of lotion. Her fingers were wrapped around it. For a split second I saw those same fingers wrapped around my cock.

  “I’d like to get a massage,” I said, mustering up a smile. I took off my cap and used it to hide the growing bulge in my jeans.

  “Oh, well, I don’t think we’re open yet,” she said with a concerned look. “Was the manager not out front? You could make an appointment to come back later.”

  I put on a face like I was in pain and lied as easily as I breathed. “She wasn’t out there, but I called ahead when I got here a few minutes ago. I’ve spent the last six hours on the road, and if I don’t do something soon, I’m afraid my back might just give out on me.”

  She stared at me for a moment and then darted her tongue across her plump lips and smiled. “Okay, well, I guess it’ll be all right.”

  “Awesome,” I said, grinning on the inside. I never said “awesome,” but it had seemed like the right thing to say. I pulled the T-shirt over my head and tossed it onto the fl
oor. Then I started to unbutton my jeans.

  “Oh my god, uh, wait,” she said, holding up her hands. “Um…just give me a second…” There was a stack of large towels under the lotion station. She tugged one of them free and shoved it at me.

  “Exactly what do you want me to do with this?” I asked, playing dumb. I think she noticed the huge bulge in my pants, because her eyes quickly darted up to mine and stayed there.

  “Yes, um, get undressed and just wrap that around your, um…”

  “My waist?” I offered. Oh my god, was she really this naïve? This was gonna be fun. I felt my cock growing harder by the minute.

  “Yes. Wrap that around your waist,” she said, directing me with her hands. “I’m going to find a smock and wash my hands. Then I’ll be back.”

  “I’ll be here,” I said, grinning as she went out the door. She was as nervous as a brood mare in heat, and I was as horny as a stallion.

  This was going to be the best massage I’d ever had.

  And a great way to kick off my weekend.

  CHAPTER EIGHT: Miranda

  I heard the knock on the door and turned to find the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen standing in the doorway. He was tall and muscular, wearing a ratty T-shirt that hugged his chest and shoulders like a glove and a pair of jeans so tight that it looked like he had been melted and poured into them.

  I could see the outline of his package through the faded denim. It made me tingle a little…down there…

  He had a David Beckham face, if you know what I mean, with short dark hair and deep brown eyes and a mouth full of perfect white teeth. His lips were curled into a sheepish smile.

  He took off his cap and covered his crotch with it and asked if I would give him a massage. I was holding a big round bottle of lotion. I had to stop my fingers from sliding up and down on it subconsciously as I stared at him.

  I just assumed that he was a guest, so I said yes. Then he took off his T-shirt and started to take off his pants, and I was thinking, oh my god! I nearly fainted because I thought he was just going to drop his pants and fling that big thing out at me!

  It took a moment for me to regain my composure. I gave him a towel and used the excuse that I had to go find a smock. I went down the hall to the restroom and stood with my hands braced on the sink. I didn’t know why, but I was breathing heavy and was as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

  “Snap out of it, girl,” I told myself. I spoke to my reflection in the mirror. “You trained for this. You’re really, really good at it. Now wash your hands and get back in there. You have a client!”

  I found myself smiling as I washed my hands.

  Wow, I had a client. I was actually going to get paid for doing something I had trained for rather than taking orders and clearing tables at the freakin’ Red Lobster.

  I had a client.

  How cool was that?

  CHAPTER NINE: Miranda

  When I came back into the room, he was lying on his stomach on the table with his hands tucked under his cheek and his eyes closed. Even though he had draped the towel across his round rump, I could tell that he was naked underneath because I could see the dimples just above his ass cheeks and the top of his crack.

  The only thing I could think about was how uncomfortable it must be if he was laying on top of that big thing I’d seen in his pants. I was not too familiar with how those worked, exactly. Maybe it just sort of flattened out when it was not…uh…hard…

  He had already used the dimmer switch to turn down the lights and had selected a CD for background music. It was Michael Bublé, I think. Slow, soft, deep. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought he was setting the mood for something more than just a massage. That would be my luck. The first day on the job, the first client of the day, and I got a guy who expected way more than I was prepared to give.

  “So, uh, your back is bothering you?” I asked, rubbing my hands together to warm them.

  “Yes,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth, sounding half asleep. “My lower back especially, near the top of my ass.”

  I went to the table and got a bottle of massage oil and set it in the warmer for just a minute. I took the bottle and stood next to the table. When I squeezed the oil into my palm, it was warm and slick. I rubbed my hands together and then slowly massaged the oil into the thick muscles on his back.

  “You’re in knots,” I said, working my fingers hard into the stiff muscles across his shoulders. He moaned and said something I didn’t understand. I filled my hand with oil again and worked my way down the muscles along his spine until I came to the cute dimples above his ass.

  Okay, this was going to sound nuts, but as I rubbed his lower back I felt myself getting wet. And I was not talking about sweat, even through the air in the room seemed to be getting thicker by the moment. I was talking about wet down there, in my…pussy. I could feel warm juices flowing into my panties. I squeezed my thighs together to try to stop the flow.

  My hands went across the top of his ass. His muscles were hard as rocks. I let my fingers go under the towel just a bit so I could hit the top of his glutes where they met the small of his back. That was where a lot of people stored the tension in their bodies. That was why so many people had back problems.

  As my fingers pressed into his flesh, he gave off a low moan that told me my magic fingers were doing the trick. I squirted the oil directly onto his back and worked my way up and across his shoulders, then back down again.

  I felt a heat building in my pussy, heating the juices that were flowing out of me like I had heated the massage oil. As my hands went over his skin, it was as if his body was sending little tingles back into my hands, up my arms, and straight down to my pussy. This must have been what foreplay felt like.

  “Your shoulders are nearly as tight as your back,” I said, making small talk just to break the tension I felt building in my own body. The crotch of my panties was completely drenched now as I dug my fingers into the muscles along the tops of his shoulders and neck.

  I could smell the scent of my aroma mixing with the scent of the rose oil in the air. I wondered if he could smell it, too. I wondered what I would do if he said something. What would I do if he reached out to touch me like I was touching him…

  “God, you have amazing hands,” he said with a sigh. “Have you been doing this long?”

  “Actually, you are my first paying customer,” I said as my palms pressed circles into his back. “I’m going to school to be a physical therapist, so I’ve taken a lot of massage classes.”

  “Well, you get an A plus from me,” he said, smiling up at me. “Would you mind doing my leg muscles? My thighs feel like bricks after all that driving.”

  “Um, sure, I can do that,” I said. I took a step back with my oily hands held up at the elbows.

  “Great. Just let me flip over,” he said, pushing himself up with one hand while the other held the towel in place. He settled in on his back with his hands behind his head.

  And there it was.

  Standing up beneath the towel like a tent rod. He was literally pitching a tent with his penis. Or cock or whatever you called it.

  Was I supposed to massage his thighs with that thing sticking up in the air?

  Surely he didn’t think I was going to touch that, even though the site of it had my pussy flowing like Niagara Falls.

  I didn’t know what to do, so I just stood there with my mouth hanging open and my hands in the air.

  Then he tugged off the towel and, finally, at the ripe old age of twenty-four, I saw my first cock.

  And it was magnificent.

  CHAPTER TEN: Conner

  The look in her eyes almost made me laugh. When I pulled the towel off and she saw my ten-inch cock rising in all its glory, hard as a rock and sticking up in the air like a veiny flag pole, I thought she was gonna faint.

  Her eyes went wide and she moved her lips back and forth, but she didn’t grab my cock with her oily hands, whi
ch was exactly what I wanted her to do.

  “What are you waiting for, babe?” I asked. I had my hands behind my head and a shit-eating grin on my face. I tensed my ab muscles and made my cock wiggle for her. “Go on, you know you want it. Take it. It’s all yours.”

  She stared at my cock, blinking like she was coming out of a trance.

  “Go on, my little whore. Use both hands to make daddy come.” I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. “You know you want it. I’ve been smelling your pussy juices for ten minutes. I can taste your pussy on the tip of my tongue.”

  I waited for a moment, but her hands did not go around my cock. I opened my eyes and looked up at her. She hadn’t moved. She was standing there like a deer in headlights. I bounced my cock at her and shrugged with my eyebrows.

  “Hey, if you’d rather wiggle your hot ass out of those wet yoga pants and climb on for the ride of your life, that’s okay, too. Just slide your hot little pussy right on there. I don’t care how you do it; just make me come and fast, because I have places to be. You can tug me, suck me, or fuck me. It’s all the same to me.”

  I chuckled at myself and closed my eyes. I flexed my muscles again to wiggle my cock, which felt like it was about to burst.

  Then, nothing…

  I opened my eyes to see her standing at the lotion table rubbing her hands together on a towel. She did not look amused. Or horny. She looked disgusted. She was looking at me like I was a bad smell, like I was a lump of dog shit on the bottom of her shoe.

  What the hell?

  Didn’t this bitch didn’t know who I was?

  I was her fucking employer.

  And she was gonna look at me like that?

  I didn’t fucking think so.

  She finished wiping her hands on the towel and then casually draped it over my withering cock and opened the door. She stood with her arms crossed, glaring at me with a look of disgust in her eyes.

  I was ready to come unglued.