Rodeo (BBW Cowboy Romance) (BBW Western Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page B

long and not one of them had compared to that first night with him in the stables.  Since then I'd thrown myself into my career and men were on the back burner in favor of business accomplishment, personally believing that concentrating on building my reputation was far more important than finding love.
     
    Dinner parties were the norm for me and most of my friends had given up asking me to bring a 'plus one' so, after a few disastrous attempts at trying to fix me up with some of their other single friends, they'd resigned themselves to the fact I was perfectly happy on my own and in fact, much more fun on my own.  In these kind of situations a single woman can often find herself being a threat to other women, especially the married ones in fear of the single woman stealing their partners, I soon put that stigma to sleep.  It came to light, out of the blue one night that John was a male version of me, we both attended sad dinner parties but weren't the sad, single guests.  We hit it off together immediately.
     
    John was as charming as he was handsome, his conversation was intellectual, his humor was hilarious and he enjoyed all the things I enjoyed doing in whatever spare time I managed to enjoy myself.  We were an instant team and in the eyes of all the relationship meddlers, their plight of interference came to an end.  We slotted together like two people destined to have met and it was a meeting of two minds that only grew from strength to strength on a daily basis. 
     
    Sexually, I suppose John had the upper hand on that one.  Business wise I was at the top of my game but definitely lacked experience when it came to sexual partners.  John's family business had allowed him to travel and he gave the impression that women from all corners of the globe had thrown themselves at him; rich, older women, bored with their tired, old oil tycoons, young girls looking for their next meal ticket out of the country and into the city lights, not to mention the saucy showgirls who had taught him a thing or two about polished performances, and, who could blame any of them? 
     
    When I'd first had sex with John I was impressed by his technique and performance, not to mention what he had to offer visually. The occasion itself had been heavily romantic starting with dinner in a top restaurant, followed by drinks in a swanky cocktail lounge.  It wasn't unusual for us to be joined by other people when we went out for the evening as both our social network circles spread far and wide across the city but on that night we were alone all night and found ourselves naturally lost in each other's presence.  As a surprise for our first time John had booked us into one of the city's most prestigious hotels, booking the penthouse suite naturally.
     
    Perfectly organized, although relaxed and informal, we'd both settled into an ease of conversation laced with sexual chemistry floating anonymously in the shadows.  I wasn't nervous at all, John played the charming suitor to perfection and beyond and when we finally made love, all my nostalgic thoughts about Tommy drifted away.
     
    The conversation was great, the laughter was plenty and the sex was more than satisfactory.  John became my second love.
     
    John owned a shipping business which took him all over the world, this for me was the perfect relationship as it gave me space and allowed our relationship to have absence which, in the world of clichés, makes the heart grow fonder.  John wasn't so agreeable about the 'space' aspect of things though and I felt that he became slightly clingy when he was away on his trips.  Jealousy reared its ugly head occasionally but I wasn't about to advocate that kind of behavior on any level, I was and always had been a very independent person and what John needed to learn more importantly was that I was a loyal person.
     
    Reviewing my work schedule every Monday morning was a headache in itself for me, however when John was away on one of his