The Wicked Horse Boxed Set (The Wicked Horse Series) Page 12

Woolf groans as I drop down, and he has an almost pained look on his face as he watches his cock disappear into me. He looks up at me, huffs out a pent-up breath, and says, “God, Callie. You just don’t know how good you feel on me.”

  My entire body goes almost liquid hearing him say that. It’s not just a generalized statement that pops out of your mouth during the heat of some really good sex. Woolf was saying that I feel good to him. He’s saying it in a way that means I feel better than anything he’s ever felt before, and as I lower myself all the way down on his erection, and he fills me up fuller than I’ve ever been before, I feel my heart start to fall prey to this dangerous wolf.

  His hands come to my hips and he holds me there just a moment so he can kiss me. A deep, toe-curling kiss that causes me to hunger for something more. His hands slide down to my ass and he urges me to lift up. I keep my feet firmly planted on the slate tile of my mother’s designer kitchen, and I raise myself off his cock. When I get to the end… when I feel the head of his cock stretching me a bit before breaking free, I push back down on him roughly.

  “Fuck yes,” Woolf hisses as he closes his eyes in rapture, and a thrill of power runs through me that I did that to him.

  I rise up and fall back down on him, feeling myself getting wetter with every gliding stroke. Woolf holds me steady by my hips, uses his powerful arms to help my movements. I ride him faster and faster until my breasts are bouncing almost painfully. As I start to tire, I merely loop my arms over his shoulders and clasp my hands behind his head. I use his strong upper body to pull myself up and down on him. Woolf starts to take over, needing me to go faster and harder than I am. His hands under my ass grip me hard, and he practically bounces me up and down on his cock. He’s hitting me so deeply, so deliciously, I start to feel another orgasm building.

  “Christ,” Woolf pants through gritted teeth. His cheek is pressed against mine as I hold onto him tight. “I’m so close but I don’t want to come yet. This feels too good.”

  I can only grunt in response as he hits my g-spot over and over again, pounding another orgasm into me. It breaks free just as he slams me down and my arms and legs tighten around him so hard, he can’t lift me back up. So instead, he just holds me down on him tightly as I start to shudder and grinds his pelvis up and against mine. I let out a soft curse, a keening moan, and I bite his shoulder hard through the material of his shirt.

  That’s when I realize I can feel him pulsing inside of me as he groans out his own release. He squeezes me so tight, I can’t breathe, yet I want him to hold me tighter. We both shake, our orgasms mingling with each other to where I can’t tell if the vibrations of pleasure are from him or me.

  Probably both.

  Our eruptions were epic and take time to fade. It takes several moments for our breathing to even. Woolf grazes his lips across mine before laying his forehead on my shoulder. He embraces me intimately while we are still melded together.

  “I think you broke me,” Woolf murmurs lazily.

  I giggle and my muscles involuntarily contract around him, which causes him to groan.

  “I think my ovaries exploded,” I tell him as my face presses into his neck and his hand strokes my back.

  “Let me see if I can walk, and if so, I’m taking you back to your bedroom for round two. Only then will I be able to hear what you have to say about your ex-douche.”

  I cluck at him in disapproval, pulling my face back to look at him in censure.

  He gives me a wide-eyed, innocent look. “What?”

  “Be nice. He’s come crawling into town with his tail between his legs,” I say with admonishment.

  Woolf snorts. “That’s just the end of the flogger that dom-bitch stuck in his ass.”

  I gasp over his crude words. “Just stop it. Just don’t.”

  “Are you defending him?” Woolf asks me with incredulity. “With my cock still deep inside of you and my cum leaking out, are you defending that asshole?”

  “No,” I say in exasperation. “But I just don’t want you making this harder. And every time you remind me what a freak he is, it makes me feel foolish all over again.”

  Immediate apology fills Woolf’s eyes, and his hands come to my face. He kisses me quickly and then pulls back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “I know,” I say as I place my fingers over his lips to silence him. “Now, I believe you mentioned something about a second round?”

  The irises around Woolf’s eyes turn the color of cobalt and his pupils constrict slightly. It’s the way I imagine a real wolf’s eyes would change when the thrill of a hunt loomed near. I hate to disappoint him though. If he thinks I’m going to run and give him an exhilarating chase, he’d be wrong about that.

  I’ve already rolled over and bared my throat to him in submission.

  I’m his.

  Chapter 13

  Woolf

  My cock is all kinds of sore from the amount of fucking we did yesterday afternoon, well into the late night hours, and then again twice this morning before she had to leave for breakfast. I wanted to make it three times—at the very least get her off with my mouth before she left to meet Will in town—but she pushed me away and said, “No more. I’m done.”

  I can’t help but smirk when I think about that look on her face. It was the look of a woman well used and loving every bit of the sting I left between those perfect legs. It filled me with no small amount of pride to put that sting there, and I hope she feels it when she’s sending that douche on his way. I hope it make her squirm in her seat with a bit of discomfort while she listens to Will beg her to take him back.

  I stand at the back of my truck, resting my forearms on top of tailgate. Casually chewing on the end of a piece of straw, I watch the door to Zed’s from my vantage point across the street and down one block. Callie’s been in there with Will for going on just over an hour now, laying the hammer down on him. If I’m lucky, he’ll be on an afternoon flight out of here, headed back to suburbia without my woman.

  And yes… that is exactly what Callie Hayes is. At least for now.

  True to my word, after I fucked her for the second time yesterday, we lay on her bed and we talked. She told me everything that Will had said when he showed up at her house. I wasn’t interested in his apologies or decrees that he would never let it happen again, but I listened to her relay it all to me. In fact, I had to listen because if there was a snowball’s chance in hell she was thinking about going back to that asshole, I had to be ready with the right words to dissuade her.

  It turns out, I did have some wisdom to impart. Not going to lie… it put me on edge a bit when Callie said, “I guess I just don’t understand why he would do something so… so…”

  “Perverted?” I threw out.

  She shook her head. “No. So outrageous… over the top. I mean, at least for him.”

  I was instantly relieved she didn’t think what she witnessed was perverted to her senses. Although I know it hurt like a bitch to see him in that position, it seems she understands it’s a valid sexual lifestyle, and that understanding is important to me since that goes on quite a bit within my club. I took a moment to explain to Callie that the illustrious Judge Lane was a fem-dom and that Will was clearly her submissive. She asked me a few questions and I answered as best I could, because I wanted her to understand that if Will wanted that, there was no way in hell Callie was ever going to be equipped to give it to him. She doesn’t have a dominant bone in her body when it comes to sex. She may be stubborn, strong willed, and independent, but she’s not a dominant in the bedroom. More than anything, I wanted her to understand that sometimes people weren’t compatible in their sexual needs and that it was simply a matter of not fitting together right.

  Ultimately, I told her, “If you want more details, talk to Bridger. He can tell you much more about the lifestyle than I can.”

  The door to Zed’s opens up and my shoulders tense, then immediately relax when I see ol’ Joe Crane coming out, loosening his
belt just a bit. The man has no understanding of the word “moderation” when it comes to food. But then right behind Joe, Callie walks out, followed by Will, and I stand up straight from my perch and throw the piece of straw to the ground.

  I laser my eyes onto both of them, trying to glean where they stand in this moment of their relationship. While Callie confided in me last night that it was absolutely over in her mind, I knew damn well that Will would use every trick in his lawyer arsenal to get her to change her mind. I’m here, stalking her at this moment, because if it so much as looks like she’s giving him a second chance, I’m prepared to knock the motherfucker out, grab Callie, and kidnap her until I can talk sense into that beautiful head.

  When they hit the sidewalk, Callie turns to face Will, who tucks his hands in the pockets of his dress pants while his head hangs low. Seriously? Who fucking wears dress pants in Wyoming on a Saturday?

  Callie says something to him, he gives a short nod, then says something to her, to which she shakes her head no and says something back to him. I imagine the conversation to have been like this.

  Callie: You understand that you’re a real turd and a jackass?

  Will: Yes, I’m a total idiot. But wasn’t I at least good in the sack?

  Callie: No. I’ve been fucked by Woolf Jennings and nothing could ever compare to that.

  I snicker to myself but then instantly scowl as she leans in to him, one hand on his chest and her lips heading toward… okay, just a kiss on the cheek. I can handle that.

  Will hangs his head and then turns to walk away. I watch for a few moments as he heads toward The Wort Hotel, my eyes cutting back to Callie, who stands there and watches him. When he’s out of sight, her shoulders sag and I feel an intense and immediate need to soothe her. I look both ways before trotting across the street. Stepping up onto the sidewalk, I start walking toward her. It takes her only a moment to see me and the sadness in her eyes stabs at me, not only because I don’t like her to be in pain, but mostly because I don’t want her to be sad over another man. That does nothing to stroke my ego.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks when I’m just a few feet from her.

  I don’t answer, but instead, I walk right into her where I wrap her up in a hug. One arm around the top of her back, the other around the bottom, pressing her into me. She’s only startled a moment but then her arms come around my waist where she squeezes me back.

  “Just came to make sure you’re okay,” I tell her before placing a kiss on the top of her head.

  It’s funny, how easy that sweet intimacy comes to me. I’m not a hugger or a cuddler. I’m a fucker, and I mean that in a complimentary way about myself. I fuck, I give orgasms, I get one, and then I’m gone.

  But for some reason, I knew Callie needed a hug. I got a rush of some weird type of pleasure when she accepted it, and then it magnified when she returned the gesture. Weird in the way that it felt like my chest was filled with fluffy, warm puppies or something.

  Fucking really weird, but in a good way.

  Callie pulls back but before she can get too far away, I lean down and kiss her. I thought it would be sweet, just a quick brush of lips against each other, but then I can’t fucking help myself. Her warm body still in close to me, I go ahead and deepen the kiss. She gives a tiny moan while gripping my shirt with her hands, but she only engages me for a moment before pulling away and taking a step back.

  “What are you doing?” she asks, looking around with wild eyes.

  So cute. She’s feeling shy about me kissing her in public.

  “I don’t understand what the problem is, babe. You didn’t mind me fucking you in front of someone the other night,” I say wickedly, just so I can see that pretty blush.

  I’m rewarded as I knew I would be, and she hisses at me low, “That’s crude.”

  “And you love it,” I say with surety. “In fact, I’m betting you’ve thought about that a time or two since that night, right?”

  She gives a tiny, girlish snarl and spins on her heel, walking away from me. I chuckle and in two strides, I’m caught up to her. I take her hand and lace my fingers with hers, which is a move I’ve never done before, yet it just seemed so right in this moment. She tries to pull away, but I hold tight.

  “Where are you going?” I ask amiably.

  “Home,” she mutters.

  “Perfect. Get some gear together. You and I are going camping for the rest of the weekend.”

  She comes to an abrupt halt and turns to me. “What?”

  “Camping,” I say slowly. “You know… tent, fire, sleeping bags. It’s supposed to get pretty chilly tonight, but I figure we can find ways to stay warm.”

  That was the truth. Even though we’re approaching the end of June, it’s been known to snow at this time of year, but personally, I like camping in cold weather. Like I said, I expect we’ll be buried in the sleeping bags.

  “You want to go camping? Right now?” she asks in disbelief.

  “Why is that so hard to understand?”

  She chews on her bottom lip a moment before saying, “I don’t know. I guess… I just thought that you and I were only… I mean, you want to go camping?”

  My hands come to her shoulders. Callie may not understand what’s going through her head, but I do. We didn’t talk about it last night, but I suppose this is a good segue. “I want to spend time with you, Callie. If you’re thinking that you’re just a fuck, you can get that right out of your head.”

  She still seems confused for just a moment, but then her chin tilts up. “Well, what am I supposed to think, Woolf? You haven’t exactly been receptive to my charms in the past, so it’s a little disconcerting that I have your attention now. And let’s face it… you own a sex club. You have a gazillion women at your disposal. Why in the world would you want to go camping with me this weekend?”

  I would think that ordinarily, most guys like me would be inclined to clamp down on their feelings. People like me, who have no experience in relationships and what makes them work, would think the safest route is to be non-committal. To keep things close to the vest.

  But I’ve never been that type of person. I speak what’s on my mind, and I’ve also learned, at least in business, honesty is always the best policy. And let’s face it… relationships are like business.

  So I try to be as truthful as I can with Callie. I try to at least let her know what’s in my head right now. My fingers massage into her shoulders, and I say, “Callie… I’ve known you most of my life… little sister to my closest childhood friend. I’ve put frogs in your bed. When you were seven, you kicked me in the nuts when Richard and I got into a fight and I pushed him down. You offered me your virginity, and you trusted me with it. The reason I didn’t take it wasn’t because I wasn’t interested. It was because I cared about you and knew that I wasn’t the type of man to be given that gift. I’ve always cared about you, and I’m going to go ahead and lay it on the line… I’ve fucking lusted after you for a very long time. I’m finally giving myself permission to act on it because I can’t fucking help myself. I want you too much, and yes… you and I have done an awful lot of fucking the last few days, but that’s not all there is, okay?”

  She nods at me, her eyes looking at me in wonder and with a bit of wariness.

  “So to answer your question,” I continue on. “I want to go camping with you because I like being around you, I love fucking you, and I could use some time away from the grind. Let’s go saddle up our horses, head out to Willow Bend, and let’s just enjoy each other.”

  I think that was a pretty good speech. I think it was honest and hopefully put her at ease. But I’m a bit stunned when she asks, “But this is just sex. I mean… that’s the ultimate goal, right?”

  “Um,” I hedge, because damn… now I’m on the spot. “I don’t know if it’s the ultimate goal, but it’s definitely the immediate goal.”

  “Okay,” she says with confidence, but I see a little bit of hurt in her eyes. She was de
finitely hoping for something more. “But as long as you’re fucking me, you are not fucking anyone else. I don’t share.”

  “Agreed,” I say emphatically. I wince a little internally because I hadn’t really thought about that. I mean, sure… I was going to follow Bridger’s advice and give this a try. He said start with the awesome sex, so that’s what I was doing, and yeah… if it developed into something else, I’d roll with it. But honestly, I really don’t expect it will because I truly can’t see me giving up that lifestyle for good. And Callie said she doesn’t share, so I think at some point down the road, I’ll have to make a choice if my appetites aren’t being satisfied by just one very beautiful but very vanilla woman.

  *

  I look over at Callie, and this is the girl I remember from our childhood. Her dark hair in one thick braid and a straw cowboy hat on top of her head to shield her from the sun. Faded jeans that mold to her spectacularly, a cream-colored Henley, and a gray fleece North Face jacket tied around her waist. A beat-up pair of boots hug her feet as she sits casually in the saddle atop Crazy Izzy, a feisty quarter horse that requires a sure hand, and I think she may be the most beautiful creature in existence. Like me, Callie’s been riding horses since she was a wee thing. She even raced barrels competitively for a while but gave it up when she was in her early teens when her horse broke its leg coming around the last barrel and had to be put down. It broke her heart so badly, she said she was never going to do that to another horse again.

  We plod lazily along an overgrown trail about two miles from the main house at The Double J. Willow Bend is a section of a small offshoot of the Snake River that cuts an almost horseshoe-type curve into the land and forms a deep hole where you can swim. We’re not in a rush and why would we ever be in a hurry when we have scenery like this to look at?

  No matter where you go on the ranch, you can’t ever escape the shadow of the Teton Mountains. The Double J sits on the eastern side of the range—which runs north to south—where there is a distinct lack of foothills to obscure your view. Instead, the slopes of the mountains rise up sharply from the valley in which the Double J sits and with elevations of eleven, twelve, and thirteen thousand feet, there’s still snow sitting atop the peaks throughout the summer months. In my humble opinion, there is no place more spectacular in the world. It’s why even though I’m CEO of a major corporation and really have no business doing it, I still try to ride range at least once a week just so I can soak in the splendor. It’s almost like my Zen place.