Wicked Need (The Wicked Horse #3) Page 13

  Sloane rolls her eyes and throws a thumb in Callie’s direction. “I’m a journalist by nature, so I’m gladly helping Callie out until I can do something more suited to my degree.”

  “Gotcha,” I say in understanding.

  “So, listen,” Callie says in a low, secretive voice as she leans forward. Sloane does the same, apparently eager for gossip. “I don’t know any details, but Woolf shared with us that things with your husband were really bad. And he said that you’d been kicked out of your house, left with no money after he died, and that Rand was helping you out.”

  Sloane nods seriously in agreement. “What she’s trying to say is, now in addition to Rand, you got two new peeps who will have your back until you can get on your feet.”

  “And you don’t have to tell us any details, but if you do need to talk, especially to another woman, you only have to call,” Callie adds on.

  Before I can respond, the waitress returns with a tray loaded with three margaritas and another basket of chips and salsa. We murmur thanks and when she leaves, Sloane reaches out to take a chip. How she can even fit any more food in her stomach is beyond me. She already killed a large chimichanga.

  I take a moment to let not only what they just said to sink in, but everything that’s happened in the last seven days. I’ve had apparently five people step up and go to bat for me, and they hardly know me at all. It provokes strange feelings within me because I’ve never even had those closest to me—mother or husband namely—care for me like this.

  For the first time, I think I start to have a small glimmer of hope that there are good people in the world, and I don’t just have to push my way through life in survival mode. I might actually be able to have fulfillment and happiness.

  “I didn’t marry for love,” I say suddenly, looking up from my glass to first Callie’s eyes and then Sloane’s. “I’d run away from home at seventeen, spent time on the streets, and then eventually became a stripper. Marrying Samuel was my way out of destitution and back-alley blow jobs so I could afford to eat.”

  Callie and Sloane both wince, but their eye contact never wavers. Their gazes don’t hold a speck of judgment but are full of empathy.

  “He abused me,” I continue on, and Sloane’s hand shoots across the table to cover mine. She gives it a squeeze. “Not physically himself, but to make long, sordid stories short, he farmed me out to friends and business contacts. Even his son.”

  “Fucking douche-bag, evil asshole,” Sloane growls, and Callie’s eyes get moist again.

  “He made me go to The Silo, and he made sure I became known as the woman who loved getting gang banged because that’s what he got off on,” I say, realizing I don’t have any bitterness about it right now. It is what it is, and for whatever reasons these opportunities are being afforded to me, they landed me in a place with good people that I wouldn’t have met but for The Silo.

  “And if you’re wondering why I just didn’t leave,” I continue, playing with my straw, “I berate myself over and over about my stupidity in not. But if I’m going to be honest with my new friends, I didn’t leave because even though he did those things to me, my life was still better than what it was before. I wasn’t handed out often, and I’ll even admit, a lot of things that happened at The Silo I enjoyed to some extent. I don’t know what type of woman that makes me… to let her husband treat her that way… which is why I still find it a bit hard to accept you want to be my friends.”

  “Cat,” Callie murmurs. “We all make choices in our life that we are held accountable for later. I can’t see that the choice you made to stay does anything more than label you a survivor. It’s just that simple.”

  “And I’ll add on to that,” Sloane says quietly. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with liking your time at The Silo. Callie and I have both experienced it, and we love the freedom it provides. As women, we need to revel in our sexuality and accept that we are allowed to have desires and fantasies we want to be fulfilled. The Silo gives that to us. Find the right man on top of that—who understands and values your inner kinkiness—and well, hell… that’s like the best sex ever.”

  “Yeah,” Callie reiterates. “Don’t ever feel ashamed about The Silo and what you’ve done there. Even with Woolf and Cain. Granted… we don’t need details, but it’s nothing that changes our opinion about you.”

  “So true,” Sloane agrees.

  My heart swells and grows warm. It settles in deep and a rush of joy pulses within me. These women… two amazing, non-judgmental, caring and confident women… actually seem to like me.

  Accept me.

  Want to help me.

  Maybe my time at The Silo was nothing more than fate or pre-destiny. Maybe I had to meet and marry Samuel, have him debase me and ultimately lead me to The Silo, so that I could be in this very place at this very moment.

  My thoughts turn to Rand, who has been equally as non-judgmental and caring as Callie and Sloane.

  Actually more so.

  I think about what Sloane just said… find a man who understands and values my inner kinkiness.

  That’s totally Rand.

  From the very start.

  An idea strikes and it might even be fueled by the margaritas, but I know by the time I’m ready to act on said idea, I’ll be sober. Reaching into my purse, I say, “I need to send a quick text to Rand.”

  “Oooohhhh,” Sloane gloats with a knowing look in her eyes. “You’re sexting him, aren’t you?”

  “Well, yeah,” I admit with a sheepish smile as my fingers fumble across the keys. “Kinda, sort of.”

  Chapter 15

  Rand

  I’m not sure I’ve ever had a day drag by more slowly than today has. It’s been a long day. Agonizing actually.

  It started off with me meeting Bridger to give him the trust agreement we took pictures of and that I had printed out early this morning. I left the copy with him and asked him to look it over, but I talked to him about what route we should take in the meantime.

  On the way back to Jackson from Vegas, Cat agreed to let me talk to Bridger first. She wanted to call Kevin right then and there to confront him, but I wanted to take a bit of a more cautious approach. It might be better to hit up an attorney first for a legal opinion, but I knew Bridger always had great advice, so I figured we should wait it out just a day so I could talk to him.

  I had already set up Callie and Sloane to take Cat out to lunch today. Woolf had texted me late Monday night after we got back to Jackson and Cat was already asleep, telling me he’d talked to Callie and she was going to ask Cat to work for her on the campaign. This was excellent news and was a job about as far away from The Silo as I could get her. Ironic since not but a few weeks ago, Sloane was digging around as an undercover reporter trying to connect the governor to the sex club.

  So while Cat’s apparently eating burritos, I’m spending a tremendously slow day at Westward Ink, watching the clock tick down to quitting time so I can get home to Cat.

  And yeah… weird that I’m thinking words like “home” and “Cat” almost synonymously, but I can’t fucking help it. The more I become embroiled in her affairs, the more intrigued I become by her. The more she starts to blossom and starts to become the confident, take-control woman I know her to be deep inside, the more attracted I become to her. The more I get to know about her and the things she’s overcome so far, the more I become attached to her. The more she milks my cock, the more I want her to milk it.

  Hard and often.

  Haven’t even thought about The Silo once since she and I talked about it five nights ago.

  My phone dings with a text and I see it’s from Cat. Callie said they were going to The Merry Piglets, which always means margaritas with lunch.

  It’s cute and coy, and I never thought I’d use those words to describe Cat. Sloane and Callie think I should own my inner kinkiness. And I’m kinda drunk.

  I’m sitting at the front counter, previously bored out of my mind but now fully alert
with interest. I immediately write back, I think you should own it too. And you’re a cute drunk.

  It takes a few moments for her to text me back, and I wonder what an inebriated Cat really looks like. Never have I seen her intoxicated. She never once had an alcoholic drink at The Silo, and I’ve never seen her look to be high or out of control. I bet she’s fun though.

  Want to know something that really turned me on at The Silo?

  And there it is… the first time I’ve thought about The Silo in five long days. It’s a record for sure.

  My fingers fly across my phone. Yes, I do.

  Her reply comes back much faster than the priors, and I go ahead and take that to mean she’s eager to let me know her dirty thoughts. This I can get on board with because, for the most part, Cat’s sort of taken a backseat in bed and let me control how things go. I’d like to see her start making some demands of her own so I can show her there’s someone who really wants to give her that.

  I get achingly hard when I read her reply. Watching you and Logan together.

  My head spins. She liked watching Logan and me together? I can’t believe she’d even remember something like that because in The Silo, that stuff’s pretty normal.

  My cock starts to throb realizing she enjoyed watching me.

  Sure, with another guy, but that doesn’t bother me. What Logan and I do together is hot. We don’t mess around with each other without a girl involved, as neither of us is gay. Not even sure we’re bisexual.

  Maybe.

  Who knows?

  But we both have no qualms with some guy-on-guy action when we’re in the heat of things. Always in a multiples or an orgy-type situation. He’s fucked me and I’ve fucked him, although he prefers to top. I like both.

  We’ve both sucked each other’s cock, and let me tell you… he’s damn good. Not as good as Cat, but damn near close.

  It’s not been that long since we did a fantasy together, and a smile comes to my face as I remember that was a four-on-one we did with Bridger, Cain, and Sloane. Logan and I didn’t have sex that time, as it was all about Sloane’s pleasure, but we did a lot of touching while in the process, and that’s just as nice.

  I text her back without giving any deep thought to what I’m getting ready to offer. Want a repeat?

  I hold my breath for what seems like an agonizingly long time, until I get back two words guaranteed to make the rest of this day go slower. I do.

  We’ll be at the apartment by 6:30. Be naked and ready. And sober. I want you fully alert.

  After I send that text, I dial Logan’s number. He’ll be game. I know he’ll be well done with work for the day, cleaned up, and ready to go by 6:30 PM. Which is technically a ridiculously early time to get your sexy party on, but fuck if I’m going to wait.

  Logan’s waiting at the top of the stairs that lead up to my apartment, leaning back against the door with one booted foot propped against it, another long leg stretched out. With his arms folded casually across his chest and a bland look on his face, you’d have no idea looking at him that he was vibrating with sexual need right now.

  Logan is one of the most sexual creatures I’ve ever known. Before I knew the real deal about Cat, I would have put them in the same category, almost as if they needed sex to survive. I hang out at The Silo a lot, but Logan is there every single night, for hours at a time. I’m not sure there’s a patron there who has as much sex as he does, and it never seems to get old for him.

  Maybe he’s a sex addict now that I think about it, but whatever. Not my place to judge.

  “Can’t say I hated getting your call this afternoon,” he says with a slow smile as he pushes off the door. “A private night with you and Catherine… fantasy come true.”

  I smile but hold it for only a moment before I level him with a serious look. “Listen… Cat’s in a bit of a rough place. A lot of that stuff at The Silo she did… that was her husband making her do those things.”

  “What?” Logan asks with his eyebrows drawing inward.

  I nod. “But that’s not the rough place. Plenty about The Silo she came to like… including apparently watching you and me together… but it’s other stuff. She got kicked out of her house, credit cards shut off, and told she was cut out of inheriting anything. Was basically fucking living in her car.”

  Logan scrubs a hand over his chin, worry in his eyes. He nods at me, and I continue. “She’s been staying here for the last week, and well… something’s happening between us. I’m not quite sure what it is, but it’s something.”

  “So why am I here?” Logan asks.

  “Because despite all that shit she’s been through, Cat still has her dirty side. She’s apparently owning it. This is by her request tonight.”

  “What are the boundaries?” he asks, and I know why he’s going there. I just told him that something was happening between Cat and me, and he’s being respectful of that. Logan and I have both been with committed couples before, and you usually have a talk about what lines can and can’t be crossed. Sometimes just an intimate kiss is something a person might not want you to do to their monogamous partner, even if he’s okay with you sticking your cock in his wife’s pussy. It’s complicated at times, but it’s best to lay it out.

  “Only boundaries are the one’s she sets,” I say, totally ignoring the slight rumbling of unease over the fact that Cat might very well want to fuck Logan tonight. But if that’s what she wants, I’m going to make sure she gets it. “This is all about her fantasy tonight. We’ll let her direct.”

  Logan reaches down, readjusts himself and mutters, “Let’s get started then. I’ve been sporting this hard-on all afternoon since I took your call.”

  I turn toward my door and make short work of unlocking it because I’ve been in the same situation all afternoon too. The apartment is quiet and dark with only a faint spilling of light coming out from my bedroom into the living room.

  “Give me just a minute, okay?” I murmur to Logan as he stops by my couch.

  “Sure thing.”

  I walk into the bedroom, immediately assaulted by the vision of Cat exactly how I told her to be.

  Naked and in bed.

  She’s lying on her side, head propped up on her hand and the other laying gracefully along her body. One leg straight, the other slightly bent. It’s sexy and provocative and my eyes immediately fall to her breasts, then slide down to check out the rest of her.

  “You look gorgeous,” I tell her as I walk to edge of the bed, loving the low burn of lust I see in her eyes. I’m thinking this has been a long afternoon for all of us. “Have you touched yourself since you got here?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Good girl,” I say, sitting on the edge of the mattress. I lean over, placing a hand on the bed behind her. My face hovers over hers as she tilts her head to look at me. “Logan’s in the living room and will be in here in a minute. But tonight, you’re going to tell us what to do and what you want.”

  She starts to shake her head.

  “Yes, Cat,” I say firmly. “Your fantasy. We do exactly what you want and there isn’t anything you can’t ask us to do… to you or to each other, okay?”

  Her eyes shine with a mixture of excitement, worry, and a hotter sizzle of lust. “Okay.”

  “Let me check something out,” I tell her as I stand up from the bed. “Turn on your back.”

  She complies and I push a hand between her legs, pressing two fingers inside of her. Soaking wet.

  Pulling them out, I lick them off and start to get undressed, never taking my eyes off Cat. I sense Logan walk in behind me, hear his clothing start to hit the floor, but I keep staring at her. She lets her gaze flick briefly to Logan, but then it’s back on me again as I disrobe. Her eyes roam all over me, pinning on my cock once I get my jeans off.

  Logan comes up to stand beside me. I give him a brief glance, noting his dick is as hard and straight as mine is. I look back to Cat. “Tell us what to do.”

  Cat adjus
ts herself on the bed, pushes up so her back is resting on the pillows, which are stacked against the headboard. She raises her legs, plants her feet on the mattress, and spreads her knees wide. One delicate hand goes between and she starts to play with herself. Soft, tiny strokes… nothing that would get her off, but an indication she’s already turned on by what’s before her.

  Her actions… displaying herself like that and setting herself up to watch us has my cock leaking hard and an unbearable need to crawl on the bed and sink into her.

  But then she says, “I want you two to kiss. And touch each other.”

  Logan turns and starts to place a hand on my shoulder, but I say, “Wait up.”

  Turning to my nightstand, I open the drawer and pull out a bottle of lube, tossing it on the bed beside Cat. Her eyes go to it and back to me.

  “I’m assuming we’ll need that at some point,” I tell her with a grin.

  “I think you will,” she whispers, those fingers rubbing slow, lazy circles on herself.

  Logan’s hand is now at my shoulder and he turns me to him. Then both hands are on my face and he’s pulling me to his mouth. Kissing a dude is weird at times, but with Logan, it’s always been hot. His lips are soft, his tongue dancing slowly with mine, and our cocks bump against each other, smearing the other with pre-cum.

  Logan digs the fingers of one hand into my jaw, pushing through my beard and gripping me tight so he can deepen the kiss. The other drops between us and wraps around my dick.

  I can’t help the low groan that comes out, and I hear a tiny whisper from Cat, “So hot.”

  Logan starts to slowly jack me as I let my hands roam over his body. So different from Cat. Hard planes and coarse hair that don’t really attract me physically, although I’m generally attracted to Logan. I think it might have more to do with the way his tongue is playing mine or the way his grip is firm on me. Sometimes women go a little too soft, afraid they’ll hurt a man down there. Guys know exactly what we can take, so getting jacked or sucked by a guy is many times better.