Page 17 of Taming the Billionaire Cowboy (The Billionaire’s Bidding #3)

CARLY

I forget it’s work sometimes, forget that I’m supposed to be teaching Oliver how to run this place. Sometimes, I even forget what a huge risk I’m taking by letting myself hope.

I should know better, but there are times when it’s almost like the two of us are riding this out together.

That scares me, but the wild truth is it excites me more than anything has for a long, long time.

And maybe that’s why I’m still on the ranch after already spending the whole day here.

Maybe that’s why I let him rope me into fixing this fence at the far edge of the property, where my horse and I are the only things in sight except for grass and trees.

I watch the sky as I work, the sun lowering itself like it does every night, sure of where it’s going and how it will get there. That’s how I feel when I’m at the ranch. When I’m anywhere else, I’m less certain of everything.

The air grows heavy around me as I fasten the wire, the ranch almost too silent and too still.

The farther I get from the house, the closer I get to giving up and turning back.

But then I hear it — the sound of hooves on dry ground, faint at first but getting closer.

Oliver, on horseback, watching me like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.

He rides up to the fence, stopping on the other side, the horse’s breath calm and easy in the evening air. I have to hand it to him, he’s made this his world quicker than I ever thought he would, quicker than anyone could, but maybe that’s why he is who he is.

“You’re never done, are you?” he asks, grinning, from the saddle. “The rest of the animals will have to wait for their midnight feed, I’m afraid.”

“They’re fine,” I say. “I fed them before I left. Anyway, Bradley is sleeping over at my mom’s tonight, so it’s not like I have anywhere to be.”

“Want some help?” He’s already dismounting, and though it’s anything but graceful, at least he hasn’t been thrown from a horse since that first day.

He starts on the wood while I wrap the wire, the two of us working together like we’ve always done it this way.

“You might make a rancher yet,” I tell him, watching how he moves, how he swings the hammer with just enough force.

We move along the old fence, mending the boards and pulling the wires, Oliver on one side and me on the other.

The work is the easy part, the simplest thing we’ve ever done. It’s everything else that makes it complicated, everything I should keep away from if I have any sense at all.

There’s a crack of thunder in the distance, and we both look up. The wire snaps back and hits my hand, sharp enough to sting, and I drop it, shaking my wrist. But that’s not what’s caught me. It’s the sudden change in the air, how quickly it’s turned dark.

I stare at the clouds, dark and heavy, an ache across the sky that I wasn’t expecting.

“You see that?” Oliver asks, his voice so full of excitement that I want to catch it.

“Yeah,” I say, pushing the wire back into place. “We should call it quits.”

The air turns sticky and thick, the smell of rain working its way through the ranch. It’s heavy on my skin and on the top of my tongue, heavy in my lungs when I take a breath. The horses toss their heads and prance, anxious from the oncoming storm.

I know before I’m in the saddle that we won’t make it to the barnyard in time. We’re a mile away, and the lightning is closer than that. We need to take cover, quick.

“Come on!” I shout above the wind. “There’s an old stable close by!”

A crack of thunder breaks over our heads, closer than before, and the wind howls through the empty space around us.

We duck our heads against the rain, and I guide Oliver down an incline to the weathered, broken-down stable by the tree line.

It hasn’t been used in years, its boards cracked and falling down, but it should do to shelter us from the storm.

The rain picks up right as we reach the stable, big fat drops making it hard to see. We bring the horses inside, both of them skittish and wide-eyed but safer than they were out in the open.

Inside, it’s musty and dark, but it’s better than being out in the storm. Oliver ties the horses and pets them while I find some dry hay for us to sit on. To my surprise, there are also some old blankets, only a little dusty.

The noise outside is a mess of wild energy, but at least the horses have calmed down now that they’re in the familiarity of a stable, even if it’s not the one they normally call home.

“Think we’re stuck for a while,” Oliver says, shaking out his wet hair.

The rain drums against the roof, and it feels like my heart. Fast. Loud. Certain. My clothes are damp, my hair slicked to my neck, and I take a seat on a blanket, unsure of what to do with myself.

“So what should we do? Play Truth or Dare?”

He lifts an eyebrow and grins, and I immediately regret the suggestion. “Never mind.” I shake my head. “We’re not ten.”

He sits next to me, his arm only inches away from mine. His clothes are as damp as mine, and I try my hardest not to stare at the way they stick to his form.

“No, let’s do it. I’ll go first. Truth or dare?”

I suck in a sharp breath and pray to God I won’t regret this. “Truth.”

“What did you think of me when you first met me?” He starts to smile, but it quickly falls away, and I can see the tension there. He really cares about my opinion.

“Can I be honest?” I ask.

“It’s truth or dare.”

“I didn’t think you’d last a week,” I admit.

“I didn’t think I’d last a week either,” he says, leaning back on his hands. “But now it feels like… I don’t know. Feels like maybe it’s not so impossible.”

“You’ve changed a lot, Oliver.” I want to tell him everything, how proud I am, how amazing he is.

I want to tell him that I care. That I care too much. I want to tell him it’s too good, and it scares me, and I can’t let him break my heart.

“I had to.” He’s quiet for a moment, and I can see the wheels turning, can see him thinking about what to say next. “I had a panic attack,” he finally says. “Back in Houston. That’s why I bought the ranch.”

His eyes stay on me, waiting to see if I’ll pull away. I don’t, even though I want to. Not because I don’t care, but because I do.

“I was in a meeting and the deal went south, and I thought I was dying. My heart was going like crazy, and my hearing cut out. It was bad, Carly.” He shakes his head. “Real bad. It was the first time something like that happened… I really thought I might die.”

“I’m sorry,” I say softly. The storm thrashes at the walls, and it feels like the wildness is far away now, all outside and not in here with us.

“The doctor said it was from stress,” Oliver continues. “He told me to chill out.” He looks at me with a little smile, a tiny, hopeful smile that makes me want to kiss him more than I’ve ever wanted to kiss anyone. “Thought I’d give it a try.”

“And is it working?” I ask.

“You tell me,” he says. “I’ve never felt more alive.”

He’s honest, and it tears down everything I’ve been holding up to separate us. It breaks through every wall, every defense I have, and leaves me sitting here, ready for more.

“You know what?” he asks.

“What?” I squeak.

“Everything I did — all the work I put in to get to where I am, becoming CEO - it was to get away from what I grew up with. I had nothing, and I was afraid of going back to that. So afraid that I missed what I was trying to do in the first place. But you… you make it look easy. I don’t know how you do it, raising Bradley, working as hard as you do. ”

“I’ve only done what I needed to.”

He watches me, quiet and careful, knowing I’m holding something in, and suddenly I can’t lie anymore. I can’t pretend that I’m some kind of superhero when I’m just an average person who’s been struggling for years.

“I’ve been so afraid of going under,” I say. “Bradley’s dad… I didn’t expect to do it alone.” I don’t look at him because I don’t want to see the pity in his eyes. “I thought I could trust him.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sure that makes it hard to trust people going forward.”

A lump forms in my throat and I push it down, willing myself not to cry. He has no idea.

“You can trust me,” Oliver says. “I won’t bail on you, Carly.”

Why is he saying this? He’s my boss. Sure, we’ve been having a good time together, and he’s now a frequent star in my dreams, but that’s just a fantasy. I can’t… we can’t-

He clears his throat. “You said that you thought I wouldn’t last a week…”

“What about it?”

“And now?” he asks. “What do you think of me now?”

“Now you scare me.” My voice drops, soft and small, and I look at him, see the storm in his eyes and the calm around it. I see everything I’ve been hoping for, everything I’ve been afraid of hoping for.

“I didn’t think anything could scare you,” he says. “Not after watching you wrangle those chickens.”

I laugh, a tight, nervous laugh that catches in my throat, and it feels like I’m about to jump, about to take the chance of a lifetime.

“Or the way you ran this ranch when I had no clue what I was doing,” he goes on.

“Only because I care about it so much,” I say.

“That’s what I mean,” Oliver says. “You’ve got this, Carly. Whatever you want… it’s yours. I’m yours.”

It’s like all the air is sucked out of the room. I stare at him, feeling frozen, my heartbeat the only thing I can hear.

He goes on. “I know I’m your boss, so I don’t want… I don’t want to cross any boundaries. If I am, I understand. Tell me, and we can forget I ever said that.” He shakes his head. “Shit. I shouldn’t have said that. Yeah, just forget?—”

Before I can overthink it, I lean in and press my lips to his. It’s more than I expected, more than I knew it would be. I kiss him, and he kisses me back, and it’s the kind of certainty I’ve never had, the kind I want to keep.

The noise of the storm wraps around us, closes in on us, and it’s too wild to ignore, too loud to think of anything else. I’m all in, reckless and free and riding this out with him, and it’s the best decision I’ve made in a long time.

Oliver’s skin is warm, and I melt into him, all of me forgetting to be cautious, all of me taking a chance I never thought I’d take again.

I tell myself I won’t get in too deep, won’t give away too much of myself, but the words are lost in the downpour.

They dissolve into the noise of the rain, the rhythm of my breath, and his body against mine.

We tumble onto the blanket, and the earth is solid beneath us. Oliver rolls so he’s on top of me, the weight of him enough to make me lose myself, enough to keep me safe.

His hands find my hair. His lips press to mine. I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer, keeping him flush to me. Desire races through my every cell, making me feel like I’m on fire, like if I don’t have this man then I’ll die.

He kisses down my neck, across my collarbone, and I arch into him. No one has ever touched me like this before, ever made me feel so free.

I fumble with the button on his jeans, knowing I’m rushing it but not caring. And knowing this is what he wants, too. He’s hard against my hand, ready for me.

He pushes my shirt up, peeling it over my head and tossing it to the side. His lips gently graze my neck, making me groan with need. Hands shaking, I finally manage to unzip his jeans and reach inside.

His length responds to my touch, pulsing against my palm. I stroke him gently, the rest of the world fading away. There’s only us here. Us now.

He pushes my bra off, and together we get his pants off, then mine. It’s quick, the shedding of our clothes, and that’s exactly how I want it. Foreplay has been every minute we’ve been together since meeting, including the fights.

Maybe the fights most of all.

My hair falls across my face, damp and wild and wanting, and Oliver brushes it back with a tenderness that makes my chest explode with more than I can hold.

We reposition our bodies, our curves and angles locking perfectly together. His kiss is hot, searing, our tongues dancing across each other as he pushes against my opening. My back arches, a silent plea for him to enter. And when he obliges, it’s slow — agonizingly slow - but also perfect.

My body shudders, his hands in my hair and my mouth full of his taste. His chest hairs brush against my nipples, and he reaches under my hip to dig his fingers into my ass cheek. We’re a perfect design, no improvement needed.

We move together, fast and full and hungry, and I can’t believe how right it is, can’t believe how right it’s always been. The heat of him is like a spark, like a shock, and I’m on fire.

I know how big this is. I know how big it could be.

And I’m not afraid.

I lose myself in him, but not like I thought, not like I was afraid of. It doesn’t take from me. It doesn’t steal what’s mine. It gives. It’s a gift. It’s Oliver.

Pleasure races through me, and I grip him harder, ready to disappear into whatever magic this is. He groans against my lips, the sound like heavenly music. Gone is the rain slicking our bodies, replaced by our sweat.

Without warning, the pleasure explodes through me, and I moan into Oliver’s mouth. He kisses me fiercely, teeth clanging together as he drives even harder and deeper into me.

And then… we become still.

We gasp for air.

Collapse against each other.

And laugh.

Then laugh some more.

Rolling onto his back, Oliver pulls me close and kisses the top of my head. “We should get stranded in storms more often.”

“This isn’t what usually happens,” I say with a smile.

“That’s fine. I don’t need a storm. Now that I’ve had a taste of you, I have a feeling I’ll be addicted.”

That makes me smile even wider. Snuggling closer to him, I keep my head on his chest and his warmth inside me. I keep the promise and the hope. I keep it all.