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  Slow Bucking

  Drea Riley

  Copyright © 2010 by Dréa Riley

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, recording, electronic transmission, or by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the authors or holders of the copyright.

  This book is a work of fiction. References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

  Published by

  Beautiful Trouble Publishing, LLC

  PO Box 61

  Colfax, NC 27235

  www.beautifultroublepublishing.com

  Cover Art: Marteeka Karland http://www.marteekakarland.com/

  Editor: Stephanie Parent

  Proofreader: Novellette Whyte http://proofreadernovellette.blogspot.com/

  Formatter: Jim & Zetta http://www.jimandzetta.com/

  E-book Conversion: Jim & Zetta, http://www.jimandzetta.com/

  ISBN: (ebook) 978-1-936271-95-5

  To every one of you who has waited for me and my prose…who has cheered me on. This one is for you.

  To me—you are more than the sum of the part of you. I love you.

  Note about eBooks

  eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving eBooks is a copyright infringement.

  CAVEAT

  This work of erotica contains adult language and sexually explicit scenes, which are smoking hot. This book is intended only for adults, as it is defined by the laws of the country in which the purchase is made. Keep this book out of the hands of under-aged readers.

  Welcome

  Welcome to the Cloudwalker Cousins series. The stories that are part of this series include:

  Slow Bucking (Regina and Tyce)

  Wrangling Letty (Leticia and Jeramy)

  Taming Tanner (Sophia and Tanner)

  Additionally, you can read more

  about T’Zara Johnson Martin in T’Zara’s Heart by Dréa Riley available at:

  http://www.lulu.com/product/ebook/tzaras-heart/6189626?productTrackingContext=search_results/search_shelf/center/5

  Chapter One

  Regina hit rewind on the remote and watched the scene play again. The bull danced, leapt, and kicked in the air with a single purpose. Freedom. The thousand-pound mammoth was so far from the calf that she’d bottle fed and brushed daily. He was poetry in motion. A testament to the skill of a creator. The animal’s muscles rippled and bulged like the waves of the ocean. There was nothing more beautiful than that large animal. Except maybe the rider on his back. As much as Little Horns Big Noise wanted to divest himself of the burden on his back, that burden was determined to hang on. For at least eight whole seconds.

  If the animal himself was poetry, then Tyce Westbrook was a haunting sonata. He didn’t cling to the beast like some riders did, but rather he seemed to become part of the animal—an extension of the beast. Whereas Little Horns Big Noise was raging and hard, Tyce seemed melodic and flowing.

  Whenever Regina watched these events, she thought the riders looked like rag dolls being flung about, clinging for dear life, But Tyce…floated. His body moved as if he was feather light despite his nearly seven-foot frame, tall for a bull rider. There was none of the frantic jerkiness of other riders. Tyce should have been named Tamer. No matter what animal he drew, he rode them out, bringing them to submission under his powerful thighs. Holding them in compliance under his rear. A rear that, as he casually strolled away from the ring, Regina wanted to personally soothe and massage.

  After watching the video for the tenth time, Regina turned off the TV and tossed the remote on the coffee table in front of her. She’d been twenty-seven the last time Tyce Westbrook and Little Horns Big Noise had been on the rodeo circuit. The ride had lasted longer than eight seconds, and Tyce had dismounted from the bull as if sticking a perfect gymnastics landing. He’d walked to the edge of the arena before turning back to the dusty ring and tipping his hat to his frienemy. He’d won a huge purse that night, and, being the owner of the bull, so had Regina.

  Three years later, she still couldn’t get him out her mind. Mostly because he wouldn’t stop hounding her. Well, his lawyers wouldn’t. They wanted Little Horn Big Noise…well, they wanted his progeny. She’d been reluctant to tell the world her secret, but she supposed there couldn’t be any more embarrassment in telling the truth than there was in her ducking and dodging them as if she were a spy on a secret mission.

  Only she wasn’t willing to deal with any lawyers. Tyce wanted her bull…well, his sperm. Regina wanted Tyce…well…his sperm. In her mind, it was an even trade. Plus Tyce would have the pleasure of gracing her bed for a period of time. A pleasure that males from puberty to dead wished they could have.

  Regina had known from an early age that she was hot. Her daddy’d had a mild coronary when she’d bounded out the front door at age twelve with boobs …and not just boobs but big, bouncing boobs. Reginald Cloudwalker had fired every male on the ranch and promptly brought in a small army of ex-military compadres to guard his baby girl. Even three years after her father’s passing, they were still guarding her.

  Or cock blocking, as she and her cousin Leticia liked to call it. Regina knew if she was ever going to experience the carnal desires that burned deep within her, she had to bring in a man her father would have respected. Tyce Westbrook was such a man. Her father had loved to watch the young cowboy ride. The old man was thrilled each time Tyce drew his bulls and would make every Pro Rodeo event in hopes that Tyce would be paired with one of his bulls.

  “That’s a man who respects the animals, Gigi. That is a man who honors nature. Who honors man and beast. Earth and Heaven. That’s the kind of man I want for my baby girl.” Regina had been seventeen when her dad had muttered those words. It wasn’t her first time at the famous rodeo finals in Vegas, but it was the first time she’d seen the young up-and-comer Tyce Westbrook ride. It was also the first time she’d learned what it was to covet. She’d wanted Tyce with her woman’s heart. She hadn’t cared a lick what kind of respect her father had had for him. All she knew was, when the young cowboy had sauntered past her, he’d ruined her for other men. When he’d turned those arctic blue eyes on her she’d melted like a candy bar on a car dashboard warmed by the sun.

  At nineteen years old, Tyce was everything wet dreams were made of. His deep voice gave her goose bumps, and his slight smile sent her pulse into overdrive. The dimples that were barely visible under the brim of his hat made her want to swoon. She lived for the circuit after that. Every chance she got to go on the road was a sweet torment. Just moments in time until she could be in his presence.

  But Tyce had been a different type of cowboy. He wasn’t into the glory or the buckle bunnies. He was in it for the ride. No one knew anything about his personal life. He was enigmatic and laconic and every other big word she’d ever learned. So instead of trying to throw herself at him with her feminine wiles, she’d thrown herself into her studies, earning a degree in animal husbandry and then moving on to veterinary medicine. She’d helped her dad with the ranch and the breeding of rodeo bulls, all the while nursing the dream of catching the eye of her favorite cowboy.

  That dream had taken a back seat as she’d grown older, and then when she was twenty-seven she’d lost her beloved f
ather. With the demands of running the ranch, she’d also given up on her child hood fantasies. Given up, not forgotten.

  Regina tossed her head back on a long sigh. Three years. Three long years without her father. Three long years without either of the males in her life to entertain her. Truth be told, she’d missed the rodeo, but Little Horn Big Noise had been the last of her rodeo bulls. She didn’t have time to keep an animal on the circuit and run the ranch. Besides, with Tyce retiring the sport had lost its luster. There wasn’t anything exciting to her about bull riding anymore. She’d missed the opportunity to catch his eye, and he’d faded into tales of legends that younger riders whispered about in the moments before the bright lights lit up the arenas.

  Standing, she walked back down the hall to her father’s study, now her office. Sitting at the massive desk, she flipped through the stack of bills and junk mail. Her mind, however, was still on the solitary cowboy who had stolen her young heart. And on the phone calls and letters from his lawyers seeking to buy her aging bull. The last piece of her father, and that memory of a time she held on to so dearly.

  Before logic could stop her, Regina reached for her keyboard and logged into her e-mail. She used the address on the very first letter and fired off a missive.

  Mr. Westbrook—Tyce,

  My father always taught me to look a man in the eye when doing business. I’m willing to meet with you about the purchase of my bull. With you, not your lawyers. Dinner at my ranch on Friday night. If our meeting goes well, then you may very well get what you want.

  Regina Na’Shelle Cloudwalker.

  She pushed away from the computer after hitting send. The butterflies in her tummy danced frantically. This was it. Part one of the plan. Get Tyce to dinner. Step two, dessert. Regina à la mode.

  Chapter Two

  Tyce sat with his fingers steepled under his chin, staring at the photo on his desk. It was a picture he’d carried with him for nearly ten years. In the photograph, he stood with his arms loosely around the dark beauty. He’d given off the air of a typical rodeo cowboy. Cocky, arrogant, older than his nineteen years. Inside he’d been a bundle of nerves. He’d just met the man who bred the biggest, baddest rodeo bulls in the world. Turns out Reginald Cloudwalker also fathered the most beautiful female in the world as well. “Gigi,” as she’d called herself before dusting her hand on her jean-clad thigh and offering it to him in a brief yet firm handshake, was a goddess. Her long black hair was braided back away from her heart-shaped face. Honey brown eyes had twinkled up at him from beneath a fringe of bangs, and her cupid’s bow of a mouth, slicked with gloss, had glistened in the arena lights, her smooth mocha skin inviting him to taste.

  Tyce had dutifully stood for the quick Polaroid shots before hightailing it to his trailer before anyone could notice the “fit” of his jeans. From then on he made a point to look for her at every stop. She’d be there by her father’s side, calling to him like a siren. She was no buckle bunny. In fact she seemed to ignore all the cowboys, though she always spared a shy smile for him. He’d wanted her, but he knew he wasn’t good enough for her. At least not then, anyway. He was a cowboy with no family, no roots and no money in the bank. So he trained harder and harder. And when he wasn’t on the circuit, he studied and invested all of his earnings. Someday he’d be able to ask Reginald Cloudwalker for the privilege of his daughter’s hand. And he didn’t want the esteemed rancher to find anything lacking in his dossier. He knew he had to bring his A plus plus game, in order to be in the running for Regina Cloudwalker’s affections.

  Three years later, he was days away from receiving his MBA and moments from the ride of his life. Tyce was set to step in the chute and mount the biggest, baddest bull ever to dance in dirt circles. Though he’d practiced for this moment for a lifetime, he wasn’t feeling any of his normal confidence. Deep in his spirit, something just wasn’t right. But there was more than the huge purse at stake. He wasn’t just riding for home and for glory tonight. Tonight he was going to ask Reginald to be his father-in-law.

  With his resolve firmly in place, he stepped closer to the chute, and the men gathered there to help him get in position. He was a few steps away from his destiny, when the rodeo medic stepped into his path and clasped his shoulder. Doc’s crystal clear eyes were clouded with emotion and tears as he leaned forward and whispered in Tyce’s ear.

  “Cloudwalker is gone, son. You ride tonight for him. okay? Let him see you from up there doing it the best you’ve ever done.”

  Tyce’s throat clogged with the memory. He had wanted to back out. Wanted to run and find Regina and bury her in his heart so that she wouldn’t feel any pain. He had wanted desperately to go to her. The judges were learning of the news just as he was. The event had come to a stop as the announcement was made. The arena came to a hush. And in his spirit, Tyce heard his mentor speak.

  “Give ’em a show, boy. Ride for me. Ride for Regina.”

  A sense of wellbeing had settled over him, and Tyce had done just that. When the lights came all the way back up, Tyce and Little Horns Big Noise had danced. For a brief moment in time, man and beast were one, and they celebrated the life of a treasured friend. And afterward, when the music had stopped, in that moment before the applause erupted, Tyce turned to the bull and looked him square in the eye. For a brief moment the wild eyes of the animal were calm and serene. They reflected a wisdom and an acceptance of a soul, a spirit that was free from the burdens of this world.

  Tyce left the arena after tipping his hat to an old friend. He didn’t even stop to address the announcer or reporters. He drove straight to the hospital—straight to Regina.

  She’d looked at him with those honeyed eyes, and Tyce felt so small. “All he wanted to do was see you ride. I know in my heart that his spirit left this room and went straight to the arena. Thank you, Tyce. Thank you for honoring my father tonight.”

  Pushing away from his desk, Tyce walked to the large bank of windows and stared west like he did every night. He imagined he could see her house from here, though it was miles beyond the horizon. He fingered the two-carat diamond that sat on the side table, still in the smooth velvet box it had been purchased in three years ago. He knew the shape by heart; the feel of the cool stone set in platinum was embedded in his fingertips. Pulling his hand back from the ring and pressing both his fingers and his forehead to the cool glass of the large window, Tyce closed his eyes and breathed deeply. It was the same ritual he’d performed every night since he first met Gigi Cloudwalker. No matter where he was. He’d watch the sun dip and give way to the night sky and imagine there was no time, no space, no miles between them. He’d say in his heart over and over, I love you. You are meant to be my woman. And he prayed that she could hear him. Feel him. Love him too. Yes, he’d have dinner with Regina. And by dessert he’d have her convinced that they should have dinner together every night for the rest of their lives.

  Chapter Three

  Regina sat at the head of the formal table watching as Tyce slowly swirled his snifter of brandy. This was not going at all according to plan. She took a moment to re-count her checklist. She'd spent the day primping, preening, pampering and generally psyching herself up for tonight. Freshly showered, oiled and powdered, she looked artistically un-made up. Her crushed silk shirt-dress was perfectly cinched by a wide leather belt that matched her custom-made slouch boots. Her rave locks were "casually" tousled and tossed over one shoulder, and her lips were covered in a luscious dewy glaze. She'd convinced her best friend and cohort T'Zara to bake a deliciously sinful chocolate mousse cake to follow the brontosaurus-sized steaks that were currently being grilled by her favorite cousin and ranch forewoman, Leticia.

  Letty was so excited that Regina was finally going to put the move on Tyce, she practically ran over and told the man exactly what was in store for him the minute he walked through the door. Regina knew her cousin was not paying nearly as much attention to the meal she was supposed be cooking as she was to the action, or lack thereof, go
ing on between herself and Tyce. She could feel Leticia’s peering gaze watching them like a hawk. She knew Letty was giving T’Zara a play-by-play, and the added pressure of an audience was wreaking havoc on her nerves. On a deep sigh, she took a long draw of her water and watched Tyce. How in the world could he manage to look so relaxed when what she’d always thought of as a huge dining-room chair seemed to be squishing his body?

  If anything, Tyce had grown and filled out during the last three years. Where there used to be a tall, lithe athlete was now the body of a giant. A man who was all muscles on top of muscles. He looked literally as if when he was done with the grueling work of running a successful cattle ranch he, then turned into a bodybuilder for fun. The only thing that remained of the cowboy who’d stolen her heart was—everything. It was just magnified. His hair was longer, his jaw more square, his shoulders bigger and broader. His waist was still trim, but she knew his abdomen had to be laden with more ripples than a washboard. And those thighs. Good lord, when he’d walked through the door all she could think was that those thighs could crack enough pecans to make ten pies in one squeeze.

  Regina shook herself from her musings in time to look up and catch a very real, very sensual pair of crystal blue eyes blazing back at her. Intensity burned in those liquid ocean eyes. If her tongue wasn’t swollen in her mouth, she would’ve tried to start a conversation.

  Letty burst in at that exact moment, sparing her the chore of speaking.

  “Good lord! There’s enough sexual energy in here to power half, if not all, of Texas,” the loudmouth said as she deliberately sat both plates of food down near Tyce’s end of the table.