Wicked Choice (The Wicked Horse Vegas #4)

by Sawyer Bennett

  I’m looking for something. Anything, really. The only place I know to find it is in The Wicked Horse.

  I prowl through The Social Room, my gaze sweeping around for potentials. Nothing catches my eye. My interest isn’t piqued.

  I make my way to my favorite room, The Silo. It’s usually the first place I try since the most adventurous patrons tend to hang out there. When I enter, my eyes are immediately drawn to the perimeter rooms built of glass walls. They are filled with people fucking, and I wait for the familiar warmth of anticipation to overtake me.

  Nothing.

  The prickles on my skin turn to painful needles.

  With a sigh, I turn toward the circular bar in the middle of the room and my eyes immediately land on Kynan, who sits by himself. I happen to know The Silo is his favorite room, too, because he spends a lot of time here.

  I make my way to him, and take the empty stool to his right. His head swivels, and he seems surprised to see me.

  “Well, hello there, stranger,” he drawls.

  Turning my eyes briefly away from him, I tell the bartender, “A bottle of water, please.”

  Twisting back to Kynan, I ask, “Stranger? I just saw you at work today. And at your house just the day before that. I hardly think I’m being a stranger.”

  Kynan chuckles. “That’s true. But you haven’t been at The Wicked Horse for weeks. In fact, not since before you went on the Syrian mission with Bodie.”

  Has it really been that long?

  “If I really wanted to get specific about it,” Kynan continues in a taunting voice. “Not since the time you and Bodie hooked up while in Paphos.”

  My eyes narrow. “What are you trying to say?”

  “You know what I’m saying. It’s been over six weeks.”

  The bartender returns with my bottle of water, and I take it from him. “So what if it’s been a long time?”

  Kynan gives a casual shrug. “I just think it’s interesting that you haven’t fucked anyone since Bodie.”

  My head snaps his way. “Just because I haven’t been in here doesn’t mean I’m not fucking someone.” That gets a resounding snort of disbelief from Kynan, which pisses me off. “For all you know, I have a boy toy stashed at my house. I could be fucking his brains out morning, noon, and night.”

  “Oh yeah,” Kynan drawls. “If that’s true, why are you here right now?”

  I refuse to answer because it will only lead to his amusement. He likes to pretend he knows everything going on in the lives of his employees, and for the most part, he does. He’s one of the most intuitive people I know, damn him. But I’m feeling too unsettled and on the verge of exploding with some type of unnamed anger, so it’s best I don’t engage with him. Besides, Bodie has nothing to do with my absence from The Wicked Horse.

  Not really. I mean, he has been occupying my thoughts since that night we were together, but I can’t give much credence to that. It was a phenomenal night of fucking that has left me bitter because I’m now knocked up. It certainly means nothing at all that my experiences here at The Wicked Horse have seemed beyond pale in comparison to that one night with him.

  I chalk the sentiments up to some type of crazy pregnancy hormones going on within me.

  Still, I hate myself intensely when I feel the need to ask Kynan, “Has Bodie been coming in?”

  To Kynan’s credit, he doesn’t laugh. There’s not even a teasing flash that I can detect in his expression. He just looks at me blandly, and asks me a question in return. “Why does it matter?”

  Ugh, it doesn’t matter. It absolutely does not matter.

  Grabbing my water bottle, I rise from the stool. I won’t give Kynan the satisfaction of knowing he’s gotten to me, so I merely give him a cool smile. “I’m off to go prowl around. Happy fucking tonight.”

  Kynan jerks his chin upward in acknowledgment. But before I can turn fully away from him, he asks, “Have you scheduled an appointment with an OB/GYN yet?”

  I nod. “Tomorrow, actually.”

  “Good. I’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions for the doctor.”

  A lump forms in the center of my throat, and I attempt to swallow past it with utter failure. All I can do is nod in response before turning to walk away.

  Kynan’s hand shoots out and encircles my wrist, bringing me to a halt. I crane my neck to look over my shoulder at him, raising one eyebrow in question.

  “Rachel,” he says softly. “It’s going to be fine.”

  I appreciate his optimism. He knows the source of my fear, so he feels compelled to say that. But his words hold no weight with me because no one knows for sure that it will be. I don’t want to talk about it any further, so I give him a warm smile along with the words he needs to hear so he can feel better. “Of course it will. I’ve got this.”

  Kynan studies me for a moment before releasing my wrist. He inclines his head and says, “Happy hunting.”

  I make my way back through The Silo and decide to try The Orgy Room. It’s easy to get laid in there because all I have to do is insinuate myself into a group of naked writhing bodies. No one ever says no.

  I enter the room, trying to open myself up to the myriad of sights and sounds that have never failed to get me in the mood. The Orgy Room is just one spacious room where people in various states of undress fuck in groups of two or more. Low-lying benches and chaises fill the floor, while focused beams of light project from the ceiling down onto them. Grunts and moans and screams of pleasure fill the air.

  It does nothing for me.

  Goddamn it.

  I square my shoulders with resolve. The move pushes my tits up against the low scoop of the blood-red dress that barely covers my intimate bits. With my nearly black hair, it’s the color that looks best on me. My eyes latch onto a group of three men and two women kissing and groping not ten feet from me. They are partially dressed, which suggests they are just getting started. One of the men looks up, and our eyes lock. He’s very handsome with longish brown hair and a trimmed beard. He grins wickedly and crooks his finger.

  I put some extra sway in my hips as I start to walk his way.

  For the second time tonight, my wrist is captured by a large hand. Before I even turn to see who has me, the prickles that had been racking my skin with extreme agitation immediately dull.

  When I look over my shoulder, I’m not surprised to see Bodie.

  And God… why does he have to look so good? Well-fit jeans, charcoal gray V-neck that hugs his muscled torso. That freakin’ mink-brown hair that seems messy and perfectly styled at the same time. It felt really damn good with my fingers running through it.

  He’s too young, Rachel, I tell myself so I quit thinking about him that way, but it sounds totally hollow. I’ve never been one to box myself in by a stereotype. If I did, I wouldn’t be a member of an elite mercenary group since I’m a woman.

  “What are you doing?” he asks, his hand locked tight on me.

  A zing of lust pulses between my legs at the possessive tone of his voice. I have no clue why he feels he has the right to be possessive of me, but my body sure seems to like it.

  A gamine smile spreads across my face, and I step into him. “Oh, come on, Bodie. You know what I’m doing. I’m getting ready to get fucked. It’s why we come to The Wicked Horse, right?”

  His chocolate-brown eyes look past me to the group I’d been headed toward before coming back to me. “If you want to get fucked, I’ll be glad to do the honors. It’s not like I can get you any more pregnant.”

  I gasp, but I don’t know if it’s from outrage or desire. I pretend I’m offended, though, and pull against his hold. “I don’t need your help to get fucked.”

  Bodie’s hand tightens. He gives me a little jerk, and I fall into his body. My free hand goes to his chest to steady myself. His heartbeat thunders under my palm.

  “There are plenty of women in here for you, Bodie,” I grit out. There’s no doubt he’s been fucking other women in here the last several weeks
since our encounter, but I can’t hold it against him. We had no claims on each other.

  My head tilts way back to look at him, and the intensity of his gaze makes my legs go weak. I almost sag against him when he brings his free hand to my stomach. Fingers splayed, he presses it against me and murmurs, “That’s my kid in there, so things have changed a bit. No one’s dick but mine gets near him. Or her. Whichever.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I sputter, now offended he would think he could dictate what my body can and can’t have in it. I ignore the way my sex starts to throb.

  Bodie puts his mouth near my ear. His lips tickle my sensitive skin, and his words cause my panties to get wet. “Come on, Hart. What we did was great, and you know it. I’ll make it even better. I’ve been reading up on pregnancy, and I know your hormones are going crazy. I’ll gladly fuck you anytime you want.”

  My clit starts to pulse, and I have to force myself not to spread my legs for him. I manage to huff out in feigned offense, “Not interested.”

  The hand on my stomach drops and dips under my dress. Before I can even think to slam my legs closed against him, he inches a finger under my panties and slides it through my wet folds. My knees buckle, and he holds me upright just by his hold on my wrist.

  “All evidence to the contrary,” he murmurs triumphantly.

  I open my mouth to argue, but his finger slides into me deep. Nothing comes out but a long, needy moan. My head falls back, and my eyes flutter closed.

  Bodie’s mouth goes to my neck where his lips whisper against my skin. “Mmm. So wet for me, Hart.”

  “Not for you,” I mutter even as my hips rotate to get him to move inside of me.

  He chuckles, and the confidence in his voice is grating. “All for me.”

  Pulling his finger out, he presses the pad all slick with my juices against my clit and starts to torture me with tiny circles. I buck against him. He finally releases my wrist, only to bring that hand to my waist to pin me in place against him.

  “Let’s see how fast I can get you off,” he drawls in a low voice. I raise my head, open my eyes, and glare at him defiantly. He grins back at me. “You can act like you don’t like this all you want, baby, but I know different.”

  “Shut up, Wright,” I growl, one hand going behind his neck. “And do what you promised.”

  His grin goes wider. “That’s my girl.”

  I am so not his girl, but I almost cry in relief as his mouth crashes down on mine and his finger flutters against my clit, dipping periodically inside to get more slicked up.

  I raise a leg, hook it around his just below his ass, and rock into him. He groans into our kiss, and then shoves two fingers into me deeply. Twisting his hand a bit, his thumb hits my clit. Within moments, I’m coming hard and crying into his mouth.

  Bodie groans and picks me up, his fingers still lodged deep inside of me, the other hand supporting my ass. My legs lock around his waist and he walks me over to a wall, pinning me hard against it.

  My hands dive to his jeans and I rip them open, pulling his swollen cock out. My thumb grazes the pre-cum on the top briefly, but only because Bodie raises me up and settles my pussy against him. He plunges in at the same time he jerks me down, hammering home, and the air is knocked out of my lungs.

  Tilting his head, he darts his tongue out, licking the tip of my ear before clamping his teeth on it. I growl and buck, but he starts to fuck me so hard I can only hang on for the ride. He grunts like an animal during every deep thrust, and another orgasm starts to curl inside of me.

  “Mmm, Hart,” he breathes hotly into my ear while his cock tunnels into me so deep I’m seeing stars. “Love this pussy.”

  God, I love his cock. And his words. And everything.

  “You know what really gets me?” he pants as he continues to fuck me against the wall.

  “What?” I manage to gasp, hovering on the edge of a brutal release.

  “Your cunt is so sweet and tight, but I know that ass is going to be even tighter. Can’t wait to feel that on my cock.”

  “Fuck,” I groan as I start to come, completely embarrassed his words are what tip me over the edge. When a man’s words have power over me, I know it means I’m in deep trouble, because, frankly… no man has ever provoked such a response with just his voice.

  In this moment, as my orgasm consumes me, I realize I’m in over my head with this man. The pregnancy just complicates it more.

  “Best of all…” he gloats as my body shudders in ecstasy. Plunging in hard, he strikes deep and goes still, groaning against my neck, “Is coming inside this pussy.”

  Bodie grinds against me, and I can feel his orgasm ripple up his back while he’s coming. He curses and grunts, thrusting shallowly against me while my muscles contract to milk him dry.

  My head drops to his shoulder, my hands going limp where I’d been holding on tight.

  Fuck, that was good. So good.

  God help me, I already want it again.

  CHAPTER 5

  Bodie

  The door to the waiting room opens, and Rachel walks in. She’s wearing a pair of khaki cargo pants, a white tank top, and tennis shoes. Her black hair is pulled back in a stubby ponytail. When her eyes immediately lock on mine, I put the magazine entitled Pregnancy Today on the table beside me. She gives me a small smile before heading to the check-in desk.

  After giving information to the receptionist, she makes her way over to me and sits down with a heavy sigh in the chair to my right. The waiting room is filled with women, many of whom have a partner with them.

  She leans toward me and whispers, “How long have you been here?”

  “About fifteen minutes,” I tell her. “I’m always habitually early to appointments, though.”

  She nods, lacing her hands in her lap.

  “Are you nervous?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “Not really. Depending on what we learn here today, though, I reserve the right to change my answer.”

  A low laugh leaves me, and I reach over to take one of her hands in mine. She jerks in surprise, and then looks at me with wide eyes as I bring her hand to my mouth. I press my lips to the tips of her fingers. “Thank you again for letting me be a part of this, Rachel. It means the world.”

  I’m utterly charmed when her face flames crimson. She snatches her hand back and clenches them in her lap once again.

  I’m not sensing any awkwardness from Rachel about last night. I tried my damnedest to get her to come home with me from The Wicked Horse, but she was having none of it. I then tried to get her to take me home with her, but she was equally as stubborn. She’s clearly struggling to establish some type of boundary between us, but damn if I’m going to let that happen.

  We’ve fucked twice now, both times beyond amazing. She’s carrying my child. I’m going to be a part of this pregnancy, so we are going to be spending time together. I intend to push her boundaries as hard as I can because when it boils right down to it, I’m still holding out hope that she might want to be a part of our baby’s life.

  Not to mention… the benefits of fucking Rachel over the next several months are unparalleled. It’s true that I’d had sex with other women at The Wicked Horse since Rachel and I were together, but why wouldn’t I? She and I had no commitment to each other, and we’d thought it would be a onetime-only thing. But knowing she’s pregnant with my kid, God help me… I fucking want her bad. If I have to go a little alpha to keep her underneath me, I’m going to do it.

  The door off the waiting room opens, and a nurse steps out. She looks out and says, “Rachel Hart.”

  Rachel jolts, and her head snaps up to look at the nurse. I push from my chair, pulling Rachel up by her elbow. “Here we go,” I say with a squeeze.

  We’re led to a room that has an examination table with stirrups sticking out the end. There’s a short counter with the sink and cabinets above it and a tiny chair in the corner, as well as a rolling stool for the doctor to sit on. I note a medical illustratio
n on the wall that shows the stages of pregnancy, each drawing of the woman and the baby inside advancing in size during each trimester.

  “Dr. Anchors is running just a little bit behind schedule,” the nurse says while she pulls a paper gown from one of the cabinets. “Go ahead and remove all of your clothing, then put this on. He shouldn’t be much more than fifteen or twenty minutes.”

  “Thank you,” Rachel mutters as she takes the gown.

  When the nurse closes the door, Rachel moves over to the chair in the corner and sets her purse down. She proceeds to mechanically remove her clothes, seemingly not bothered I’m in the room and watching. Since I’ve already seen her bare body up close and personal, she must not mind, and I’m certainly enjoying the view.

  Rachel is a spectacularly built woman. She’s tall and lithe, with toned muscles. Her stomach is flat, and I wonder when that will change. Her breasts are large and full, and I know they’ll swell further. Once Rachel told me she was going to carry the baby, I’d scoured the internet and became quite versed in pregnancy. Since I intend to have my mouth on those breasts, I can gauge her discomfort by how she responds to me biting her nipples.

  The thought causes my dick to thump in my pants. I have a feeling that is going to be a major problem for me in the months to come when I’m around her.

  When Rachel has the gown wrapped around her body, she sits on the end of the exam table and crosses her feet at her ankles.

  “Did you sleep good last night?” I ask, coming to stand beside her.

  Shrugging, she picks at the paper covering her legs. She’s being awfully withdrawn, and that just won’t do. Particularly if she’s having doubts about what we did at the club.

  I scoot in closer and bend my head down to murmur, “Well, I couldn’t get to sleep last night. Not thinking about the way you came all over my cock.”

  Her head snaps up, and she turns to glare at me. My return smile is lazy and filled with mischief.

  “Had to jack off because thinking about you made my dick so hard,” I tell her with a grin.