Read Online Curvy Girls: Claimed By The Cowboy (The BBW and the Billionaire Rancher) by Georgette St. Clair - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Georgette St. Clair
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his chest.
“Excuse me? Can a man get some privacy in the bedroom of his own house?” He stalked over to the doorway.
Winston grimaced and stepped back. “Ty, I apologize. I’ll come back later.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. They staged it; the ranch hands must have tipped them off that we were coming. I’m telling you, their marriage is a fake!” Clayton snapped at Winston.
“Look up the papers at the county courthouse, Clayton,” Ty said coldly. “Our marriage is quite legal. And since we got married four hours before you did, the ranch is mine and you’re trespassing on my property. Go home…and try not to be a sore loser.”
Clayton shoved forward, trying to barrel past his brother into the bedroom. Ty shoved back, pushing his brother into the hallway.
He glared at Ty.
“Just because you said I do in front of a j.p. doesn’t mean this is a real marriage. You really expect me to believe that you’re doing it with Fatigail Wintergreen?”
Before he could say another word, Ty’s hand shot out and caught him square in the jaw, sending him staggering back out of the room.
Clayton’s wife wailed like a banshee. “You monster! You animal!” She howled, turning beseechingly to Winston, her hands fluttering in the air, her sparkling green nails glittering in the sunlight that poured in through the hallway window. “Look what he did to my husband! Call the police, call the police!”
Winston spun around and glared at Clayton and Ludmilla. “Clayton deserved what he got, and then some. If anyone had spoken to my late wife that way, I’d have done the same thing. I told you two I would speak to Ty about your accusations. I did not say I would stand by while you insult a man and his wife and barge into their bedroom.” He turned back to Ty. “Ty, I offer my sincere apologies for coming here like this. But we do need to talk later. After dinner tonight?”
“No problem,” Ty said, shutting the door.
Then he turned back to Abigail, who stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear.
“One of the ranch hands called me to tell me that they were headed this way,” she murmured, glancing at the door. “I barely had time to get my clothes out of my bedroom and move them into your closet.”
“Good job.” He laced his hands together behind her back, and she didn’t protest, didn’t move away from him. “I’m sorry about what he said.”
She shrugged. “Not your fault. It’s Clayton. He was a dick in high school, he’s a dick now. Hey, remember when I snapped that picture of him and the head of the cheerleading squad having sex under the bleachers, and I showed it to that other girl he was dating, and she scratched his face so bad he couldn’t go to prom?”
Ty grinned. “I do recall that. I loved how feisty you were back then. How you always stood up for yourself. You were a force to be reckoned with.”
He was standing right over her now, looking down at her. He took a step closer, so he was pressing up against her, and she took a step back so she was backed up against the foot of the bed.
“Abigail, I think about you every minute of the day. I want you so bad it hurts. I know you want me too; I could feel it in the way you kissed me just now.”
Abigail bit her lower lip, and a blush crept over her the creamy skin of her face. His arms were around her, and she was pressed tight between him and the foot of the bed, with nowhere to go. That was exactly how he wanted it.
“Ty, I…”
“Tell me you don’t feel the same.” He cupped her breast in his hand and smiled at her sharp intake of breath, and the flush of desire that turned her ivory cheeks a rosy red. Squeezing gently, he ran his thumb over her nipple, and she whimpered.
“Don’t like it? Don’t want me? Tell me to stop, and I will.” He brushed his lips against hers softly, and then pulled back slightly when her lips parted to kiss him.
“Ty,” she choked out.
“What?” he said, all innocence,
“Excuse me? Can a man get some privacy in the bedroom of his own house?” He stalked over to the doorway.
Winston grimaced and stepped back. “Ty, I apologize. I’ll come back later.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. They staged it; the ranch hands must have tipped them off that we were coming. I’m telling you, their marriage is a fake!” Clayton snapped at Winston.
“Look up the papers at the county courthouse, Clayton,” Ty said coldly. “Our marriage is quite legal. And since we got married four hours before you did, the ranch is mine and you’re trespassing on my property. Go home…and try not to be a sore loser.”
Clayton shoved forward, trying to barrel past his brother into the bedroom. Ty shoved back, pushing his brother into the hallway.
He glared at Ty.
“Just because you said I do in front of a j.p. doesn’t mean this is a real marriage. You really expect me to believe that you’re doing it with Fatigail Wintergreen?”
Before he could say another word, Ty’s hand shot out and caught him square in the jaw, sending him staggering back out of the room.
Clayton’s wife wailed like a banshee. “You monster! You animal!” She howled, turning beseechingly to Winston, her hands fluttering in the air, her sparkling green nails glittering in the sunlight that poured in through the hallway window. “Look what he did to my husband! Call the police, call the police!”
Winston spun around and glared at Clayton and Ludmilla. “Clayton deserved what he got, and then some. If anyone had spoken to my late wife that way, I’d have done the same thing. I told you two I would speak to Ty about your accusations. I did not say I would stand by while you insult a man and his wife and barge into their bedroom.” He turned back to Ty. “Ty, I offer my sincere apologies for coming here like this. But we do need to talk later. After dinner tonight?”
“No problem,” Ty said, shutting the door.
Then he turned back to Abigail, who stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear.
“One of the ranch hands called me to tell me that they were headed this way,” she murmured, glancing at the door. “I barely had time to get my clothes out of my bedroom and move them into your closet.”
“Good job.” He laced his hands together behind her back, and she didn’t protest, didn’t move away from him. “I’m sorry about what he said.”
She shrugged. “Not your fault. It’s Clayton. He was a dick in high school, he’s a dick now. Hey, remember when I snapped that picture of him and the head of the cheerleading squad having sex under the bleachers, and I showed it to that other girl he was dating, and she scratched his face so bad he couldn’t go to prom?”
Ty grinned. “I do recall that. I loved how feisty you were back then. How you always stood up for yourself. You were a force to be reckoned with.”
He was standing right over her now, looking down at her. He took a step closer, so he was pressing up against her, and she took a step back so she was backed up against the foot of the bed.
“Abigail, I think about you every minute of the day. I want you so bad it hurts. I know you want me too; I could feel it in the way you kissed me just now.”
Abigail bit her lower lip, and a blush crept over her the creamy skin of her face. His arms were around her, and she was pressed tight between him and the foot of the bed, with nowhere to go. That was exactly how he wanted it.
“Ty, I…”
“Tell me you don’t feel the same.” He cupped her breast in his hand and smiled at her sharp intake of breath, and the flush of desire that turned her ivory cheeks a rosy red. Squeezing gently, he ran his thumb over her nipple, and she whimpered.
“Don’t like it? Don’t want me? Tell me to stop, and I will.” He brushed his lips against hers softly, and then pulled back slightly when her lips parted to kiss him.
“Ty,” she choked out.
“What?” he said, all innocence,
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