The Big Girl and Cowboy Show - An Alpha Cowboy Erotic Romance (3 page)

BOOK: The Big Girl and Cowboy Show - An Alpha Cowboy Erotic Romance
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“Anyway, we have a very unique way of training the horses. We actually use . . . dogs to run them. It really is quite incredible to watch. In fact, I’d love for you to see the animals in action. Seeing them run in person is so much more impactful than trying to explain it and understand it with words. Here’s an idea. Why don’t you come up to the farm for a few days? Take some time off. Relax. See the run I’m talking about. It’s quite moving. It just might change your life.”

Under normal circumstances I may have been a touch more cautious. Maybe I would have told Randall,
Thanks for the invite. Let me get back to you.
Or something equally befitting of a logical, well-adjusted woman who doesn’t generally accept invitations for a sleepover at a stranger’s farm after meeting them earlier that same day. At the very least, I would imagine that I would have paused, you know, for longer than, oh,
not at all
before answering. These were not normal circumstances though. Far from it. I was teetering on the edge of what was going to be one of the most intense orgasms of my life, my right hand was moving so fast it was a blur that very well may have been approaching light speed, and my eyes were already beginning the elevator trip to the top floor of my eyelids as they slowly started rolling back in my head. In fact, given the circumstances, it was actually kind of impressive that there was a tiny sliver of conscious thought left in my melon and that it managed to fire out, “Sure!”

“Well now. That was just the answer I was hoping to hear.” Randall sounded genuinely pleased by my minimal, but affirmative, reply.

Now, it would make sense that the next order of business would be for him to find out when I wanted to visit. When it would work with my schedule, his schedule. That sort of thing. And that’s exactly what he did. It’s just that I wasn’t at all prepared for the words he used. There is no way he didn’t know precisely what he was doing when he said, “So, Connor. I hope this isn’t too forward of me, but . . . would you like to come now?”

And that was it right there. There was about a two second gap where time felt like it just froze. Like we were in some kind of suspended animation. Then the floodgates opened. Both figuratively and literally. As I started to come, I inadvertently answered Randall’s suspiciously phrased query with a very enthusiastic, “Yesssss!” Meanwhile, somewhere in the background, where life was still happening outside of my soul—and pussy—exploding, I heard Randall say, “To the farm, I mean.”
Fucking hell! To. The. Farm!
But there was no stopping this ride now. Also, there was not to be any more speaking from me until the convulsing subsided if I didn’t want to follow up my
Yesssss!
with a bunch of crazy-town moaning. It was all I could do to keep my mouth shut. The thing is, this kind of power has to come out somewhere, and for every grateful cry that might have passed my lips—but didn’t—my body thrashed and pulsed that much more. I pressed the back of my head hard against the arm of the couch as the rest of me writhed while my pussy squeezed tight around my fingers. I could feel wave after wave of my juices running down from below my fingers, coinciding with each tensing of my muscles.

I have not a clue as to how long this went on for, but to Randall’s credit, he didn’t say a word for the rest of the time that I was gushing like the most glorious fountain of pleasure that ever existed. Whether he knew that I was having the finest, most orgasm-y orgasm of my life right then and there while we were on the phone together, or he just instinctively felt there needed to be silence for a few moments for everything to sink in for the both of us, I don’t know. What I do know is, the man had good timing. Just as I began to regain my composure, he said, “Tell me where I can send Quinn to pick you up. He’ll be on his way as soon as we are off the phone. I’m very much looking forward to seeing you and I don’t want to have to wait a minute longer than I have to.”

I rattled off my particulars without hesitation. “It will be a few hours for him to get there,” Randall said. “I’m hoping that will be long enough for you to get some rest and gather whatever you need for a few days?”

After having just felt like I was going about a million miles an hour in every direction a minute ago, I now felt like this conversation, this situation rather, was moving at the same speed. It’s not as though I’m a real play-it-safe kinda girl, but all of this was a little uncharacteristic even for me. This was way out of my comfort zone, and yet I’d never felt more comfortable at the prospect of the unknown. My lunatic
yes
reply moments earlier had indeed served double duty and I couldn’t have been more pleased that it did. If things hadn’t just transpired the way they had, I may not have answered the same way even though I would have desperately wanted to.

“Yes, Randall. That will be plenty of time.”

“Fantastic. I’ll see you soon, Connor.”

I hung up the phone and took a deep breath, excited at the prospect of seeing Randall face to face again. It was then that I realized two things. First, a few hours was way more time than I needed to have a nap and get a weekend bag put together. Second, my dress was still hiked up.
This is gonna be a lot louder than a minute ago
, I said to myself as I slid my hand down for round two.

Chapter Three

It was closing in on one in the morning by the time Quinn sounded the buzzer on the intercom to let me know he had arrived and was waiting downstairs. I grabbed my bag and reached for the doorknob, ready to be on my merry way. Before opening the door, I gave my head a little shake as what I was about to do sunk in.
This is nutty. It’s almost one a.m. and I’m about to drive off into the darkness with a stranger to go and spend a weekend with another stranger!
But instead of freaking out at the thought, I followed up my incredulity with a little giggle. I was actually kinda proud of myself for being so adventurous.

I made my way downstairs, through the lobby, and out the front doors of my building to where Quinn was standing and waiting for me. “Ms. Lyall?” he said.

“That’s me!”

“Hello. My name is Quinn. Mr. Hemming sent me.”

Quinn seemed like a serious sort, so I made sure to be my usual pleasant self to try and break the ice. “Hi Quinn. I recognize you from earlier today. When you came in to the coffee shop to whisk Randall away. Nice to officially meet you!”

We began to walk toward Quinn’s vehicle. “It’s nice to meet you as well, Ms. Lyall. I apologize for not recognizing you from the coffee shop earlier. At the time, I was concerned that Mr. Hemming was going to be late for a very important meeting. Being tasked with an objective generally precludes me from paying much attention to anything unrelated to said task. My focus can be quite intense.”

Intense indeed. Where hearing Randall speak was rich and mellifluous—like listening to a cowboy symphony—listening to Quinn speak was more like listening to a lecture. A well-spoken lecture, but a lecture nonetheless.

“That’s no problem at all, Quinn. Being able to focus is a great ability to have.” I thought back to a few hours earlier when all of my focus was on Randall’s words wrapping around me as we spoke on the phone. I grinned a little.

“You’re certainly correct, Ms. Lyall. A valuable asset, indeed.” Quinn stopped walking, which, of course, made me stop walking, and looked directly at me. Not quite menacingly, but very directly, deeply into my eyes. His tone changed, “For some, abstaining from distraction can be as important as knowing how to focus.” He kept his eyes locked to mine for another brief moment, then turned and said, “Let’s continue, shall we? We have a good four or so hours drive before arriving at the farm.”
Yeesh. A real barrel of monkeys this one is.

Chapter Four

The drive to Randall’s farm was uneventful and Quinn wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Not with me anyway. Added to that was the fact that it was the middle of the night, and I actually dozed off a couple of times en route. While I was awake though, the conversations in my head kept me entertained well enough.
Safety first, kids!
Always be sure when you’re driving into the country with a stranger in the middle of the night that you fall asleep for stretches of the trip! Not having any clue where you are or how you got there just adds to the excitement!

Quinn had kinda weirded me out a bit with his Mr. Intense act earlier when he was going on about distractions. He didn’t say as much, but it wasn’t a great leap of logic to figure, or at least assume, that he was referring to me. I obviously had no clue what could have brought it on, since I had only just met the both of them, so I just chalked it up to Quinn being protective of his friend. In any case, the ongoing chatter in my head quickly went to the wayside as we finally pulled up to the front gate of the farm. Quinn broke the silence, “We’ve arrived at the farm, Ms. Lyall. We’ll be at the house in just a few more minutes.”

It was just past five a.m. and the sun was peeking its head up over the horizon, casting a soft, warm light over the acres and acres of fields that were stretched out before us. No kidding it will be a few minutes before we reached the house. I could barely see it off in the distance, miles down the road that led in from the entrance to the property. “It’s beautiful,” I marveled aloud.

My first impression of the farm, as picturesque as it was, was about to be handily trumped by what I was going to see next. I heard it first. A low rumbling that was carrying over to the car on the morning breeze. I scanned the distance from left to right and felt my jaw go just a little slack when I reached the source of the powerful thundering. About a mile ahead of us and to the right, in a rich, deep green pasture, were three horses running full out. All three horses were a dark chestnut brown and you could see their muscles bulge as their coats shimmered from the morning light. Even more striking was that it appeared a large dog was actually controlling the pace and direction of the run. A very large dog. Wolf-like, really, and without a doubt every bit as majestic, possibly even more so than the horses themselves.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of the animals. It was incredible. The synchronicity and grace of their movements together with the immense amount of raw power was captivating. As one moved, they all moved. And so very, very fast. I actually felt myself getting inexplicably emotional just from seeing this brief display. I felt privileged. And awash with a peacefulness that I don’t know that I had ever felt before. Funny as it may sound, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. “This is what Randall was talking about.”

That was when Quinn finally piped up again. He almost sounded a bit taken aback. “Randall told you about how he runs the horses?”

I was still drinking in the amazing visuals of the pack of animals rounding a corner and making their way back toward the direction of the house. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them. “He did. He said he had a very unique way of training the horses. That he used dogs to run them. Is that odd that he would mention such a thing?”

“Dogs. Right. Of course. Hmm . . . No. No, not at all. I just hadn’t realized to what degree he had shared with you the nature of the farm. He’s not generally so forthright with discussing the techniques we use here at R.H., but I wouldn’t say it was odd that he told you.”

“Well, he was right. He said that seeing the animals run was quite a moving experience. I really couldn’t have imagined anything as powerful as what I just saw. I am in awe.”

“It is indeed a spectacle that one never tires of.”

We drove for a few more minutes, in silence once again, and finally reached our destination. As the car pulled to a stop, I could see past the house a ways to what looked like one of many stable areas. Milling about, still breathing hard, were the three horses I had just witnessed in full sprint only moments before. Turning my attention to the house, I did a bit of a double take. I certainly must have been off in la-la land to not have noticed the ridiculously beautiful house that was in front of me. It was the kind of house that you wouldn’t just see in a magazine—it would be the reason the magazine existed in the first place. It was gorgeous.

We exited the vehicle and Quinn motioned toward the front door. “Just ring the bell. I’m certain Mr. Hemming will be along promptly.”

“Thanks, Quinn. And thank you for taking the time to pick me up and bring me here.”

“Not at all, Ms. Lyall.” Quinn got back in the car and drove off, making his way down another stretch of road that led from the main house—
the main house!
—to what looked to be another set of residences that were smaller, but every bit as lovely.

Before going to the door, I paused to take a deep breath and give my surroundings another visual sweep. Everything was so immaculately landscaped. It was all perfect. All of it. Nothing, and I mean
nothing
was out of place. Not a stone, not a leaf. It was as though I had been dropped off into the setting of a real-life fairy tale. Which was just fine by me. I’ve always been a fan of happily ever after.

It was time to call on my cowboy.

I stepped to the immense, solid wood door and rang the chime. Not more than twenty seconds had passed before I heard the latch turn. As the door slowly swung open, I felt a little surge of adrenaline send a tingle through the pit of my stomach. The sun was positioned behind the house now and was throwing its bright morning light through what must have been a whole hell of a lot of windows, because as the door finished its wide arc to being fully open, Randall was standing there backlit as though he was sent from the blue sky above. It was so bright, he was very nearly just a silhouette. One that was every bit as majestic and flawlessly sculpted as a classic Roman statue. I swear I heard angels sing—well, in my head, anyway.

“Connor.”

“Randall.”

That was all we could get out of our mouths before we reached for each other and found our mouths sealed tight by our first kiss. And kiss we did. Passionately, but delicately. Like the kiss of lovers who have been apart for far too long and are consumed by the joy of being in each other’s presence once again. We pulled apart slightly, neither of us wanting to break our full body contact, and looked serenely at each other. Randall spoke again first, “Shall we go inside?”

BOOK: The Big Girl and Cowboy Show - An Alpha Cowboy Erotic Romance
8.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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