The Wicked Horse Boxed Set (The Wicked Horse Series)

by Sawyer Bennett

  And a soapy hand is wrapped around his hard cock while he slowly strokes himself, twisting his wrist just a bit when he reaches the head.

  I pull the curtain back further and the slide of the shower rings against the bar is loud enough to disturb Rand. His eyes open and his neck straightens.

  He looks at me with lazy eyes and never misses a stroke. “Sorry. Took one look at you when I walked in that door, saw the way you blushed, and it made me incredibly horny. Had to jerk off before dinner.”

  I can’t help but laugh, pulling the curtain back all the way. “Rinse your dick off.”

  “Excuse me?” he says with wide blinking eyes, his hand still working himself.

  “Rinse the soap off. I don’t like the taste of it.”

  “Oh,” he says in understanding and immediately turns his body into the spray to do as I ask. When he’s squeaky clean, he shuts the water off before turning to face me.

  He’s spectacular. Wet and muscled. Thick cock hard and standing straight up, just begging for my attention. I indulge and wrap my hand around it. He groans again and then rasps out, “Get naked, Cat.”

  I shake my head with a smile before lowering my knees to the tiled floor. Rand steps to the edge of the tub, and he’s within perfect striking distance for my mouth. I wrap it around the head of his cock with both my hands to his ass, pulling him in deep. Over the last few years, I learned how to deep throat by virtue of all the cock I’ve had in it. Samuel loved to watch me choke on it. He’d get most excited when I’d gag and slobber all over. I hated the fucker for that. So I was determined to learn how to take it like a pro and not give him the satisfaction of it. With nothing but determination and a driving need to take something away from Samuel, I can now take a cock all the way down without even missing a breath or a stroke.

  Rand knows this, of course, because I’ve given him head a few times. But he’s never had this reaction to me before as he shouts out when my nose presses into his pelvis and his hands come to my head to grip hard.

  “F-u-u-u-u-c-k,” he curses as he literally pushes me off him but I make sure to give a measured suck once he’s out of my throat. “Fuck, that’s good.”

  Yes. It. Is.

  The taste of Rand in my mouth, the feel of his soft skin stretched over what feels like forged steel. The way he goes crazy when I take him back down deep again.

  “Cat, you need to pull off right the fuck now before I come,” he growls at me, once again using his hands to push against me. I let him do this, leisurely sucking on him, but I have no intention of stopping.

  When Rand walked back here and I felt that mad rush of desire for him, I thought I wanted him to fuck me. Yet what we have going on right here is something far and away different from the other times we’ve been together. It’s like we were in black and white, but now we’re in Technicolor.

  In this moment, I realize that I don’t care if I get off. I want him to have the best damn blow job in the world, and I want him to remember that it’s from me.

  So instead of releasing him as he commands, I relax my throat, open up, and pull him in deep again. It’s a clear message to him that I’m not stopping. I raise my eyes, looking up at him with his cock wedged down deep inside me, and he returns my look. His eyes are swimming with need and perhaps a question to me as to what I want.

  I answer by pulling back before immediately sucking him down deep again. Repeating the move, I take a quick breath in between. Then once more, and he gets the message.

  I want him to fuck my mouth.

  I know he gets this because his hands grip me just a little harder but instead of pushing me off, he holds me still.

  Finally, his hips start moving and Rand takes every bit of pleasure that I offer up.

  He doesn’t last long at all, shouting out my name on a backward pull before shooting all over my tongue. I drink it down while staring up at him, savoring the warm, salty flavor. His eyes are closed and he has the most peaceful, blissed-out look I’ve ever seen on a man. His hands shift so his thumbs stroke my temples.

  Opening his eyes, he looks down at me with a soft smile. “That was unbelievable.”

  “You should have just asked me to do that to begin with,” I say with a grin.

  “I didn’t want you to think—”

  “I know… and I get it. But I wanted to do that for my own pleasure as well. That had nothing to do with owing you anything.”

  “I’d really love to return that favor right now,” he says as he bends over and helps me off my knees.

  Shaking my head, I step away and give him room to exit the tub. “We have dinner to eat first. After that, you can have your way with me.”

  Reaching over to the towel rod, I grab the one I know is Rand’s and toss it to him. He catches it and starts to dry off. When I turn to walk out of the bathroom, he says, “Cat.”

  I look over my shoulder at him. “It’s going to be another all-nighter, just so you know.”

  Oh, God… I squeeze my legs together to alleviate the ache that just formed.

  Maybe we don’t need to eat dinner just yet.

  Chapter 9

  Rand

  “Damn, this is good,” I say before taking another bite of meatloaf.

  “We should have at least heated it up,” Cat grumbles as she takes a tentative bite herself.

  Turns out, she went ahead and let me return the favor to her right after that fucking unbelievable head she gave me. She appeared to weigh her options carefully when I told her we’d be up all night again. I could literally see the wheels turning in her brain and imagined her balancing needs against wants.

  On one hand, an immediate and satisfying orgasm from my tongue on her clit.

  On the other, cold food that could be reheated.

  She chose the orgasm, and I, in turn, tossed her on the bed and ate her out so thoroughly, I think she actually had two orgasms. A big one and then a smaller one right on the heels of that when I nipped her clit with my teeth as she was coming down. She shrieked in surprise and her back arched off the bed, and I was so fascinated by her response, I pressed two fingers in her wet pussy and felt the tremors of that release from the inside. Made me start to get hard again, but I figured we needed to eat and get some sustenance for what I had planned for her.

  So I pulled a weak-kneed Cat from the bed and tossed her a t-shirt from one of my drawers. After I pulled on a pair of jeans, we stumbled into the kitchen where I fixed us up two plates. Because I was starved and horny for her again, I didn’t bother heating the food. The look on Cat’s face right now tells me she’s not a fan of cold grub.

  “The sooner we eat, the sooner I can fuck you,” I tell her in a matter-of-fact manner.

  “You’re insatiable,” she says with a grin, then pokes her fork into the mac and cheese.

  “You’re a bad influence,” I tell her with a return smile full of mischief, but then I feel the smile slide right off my face when I hear my phone ringing from the bathroom where I left it with my clothes.

  Wake Up Call.

  I ignore it and stab at the meatloaf, pissed that Tarryn’s calling me again and that she can’t take a hint. Even more pissed that she’s ruining my hard-on.

  “Do you need to get that?” Cat asks softly.

  I look up at her with a shake of my head. “Nah. We’re eating, and this is fabulous by the way.”

  Her eyes light up from the praise. Thankfully, the phone goes silent.

  Sadly, it starts ringing again.

  Wake Up Call.

  I lock my jaw and make busy work cutting up the rest of my meatloaf. Cat doesn’t say a word.

  Finally, the phone stops ringing, but within just a few seconds, it’s starts again with that vile song I used to love but now hate because it reminds me about the worst of Tarryn.

  “Christ,” I mutter, dropping my fork to the plate and rubbing the bridge of my nose in frustration.

  Raising my face, I see Cat looking at me with her head tilted and faint worry i
n her eyes.

  “Maybe you should get that.”

  The phone stops ringing and for a blessed moment, I think maybe she’s done. I even reach back for my fork, but then it starts back up again.

  “Son of a bitch,” I curse as I push up from the table and stalk to the bathroom where I’d left my phone before I got in the shower. I stab at the Accept button and growl, “For fuck’s sake, Tarryn.”

  “I was worried since you hadn’t called me back from this morning,” she says in that clipped New England accent that hasn’t faded much after living several years out west.

  “Here’s a fucking hint,” I tell her as the anger continues to rise within me. “I didn’t call you back because I have nothing to say to you.”

  “Come on, Rand,” she says in a soothing voice. “You don’t really mean that. Regardless of you being angry right now, we shared too damn much for you to just disregard me.”

  Closing my eyes, I drop my head in resignation because she is right about that. I could never disregard Tarryn. In fact, my problem was always that I regarded her too much. One of the reasons I tried to avoid her now was because she always seemed to say the right thing to suck me back in. My need to nurture and develop inherently kicking in. It makes it hard to completely let go sometimes. It is also probably proof of why she has a specialized ring tone to alert me to her call, so I have the choice to talk to her or not versus just blocking her number completely.

  And as if to prove that sentiment, she strikes fast and hard. “I’ve started training again. Going to take a shot at the giant slalom. There’s an event at Copper Mountain in November.”

  Gritting my teeth, I hold back the flurry of curses I want to spew at her. Instead, I force myself to say in a calm voice, “That’s great. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

  She’s silent a moment, but then she prods. “Could use a good coach.”

  “Plenty around this area,” I say.

  “Interested in the job?” she asks with an awkward chuckle.

  “You know I’m not, Tarryn,” I say quietly, sneaking a peek toward the kitchen. Cat’s eating silently, her face lowered in an attempt to give me privacy, I think, but that’s impossible in an apartment this small.

  “Come on, Rand,” Tarryn cajoles. “No one knows my skiing better than you. No one pushes me the way you do.”

  I try hard not to snort at that because there was a time in the not so distant past that she hated the way I pushed at her. In fact, the way memory serves, and according to Tarryn, I pushed so hard that she fell right into the arms of another man.

  At least that’s the way she tried to excuse her infidelity.

  My eyes flick to the bathroom mirror, and I take a good look at myself. I’m not the same man I was eleven years ago when I started dating Tarryn. Not the same man I was four years ago when we broke up.

  My gaze focuses in on Cat’s reflection at the kitchen table behind me.

  Hell, I’m not the same man I was two nights ago when I found her sleeping in her car.

  “Look Tarryn,” I say with a firm tone as I turn and walk out of the bathroom toward Cat, who looks up at me. “I’ve got company, so I need to get off the phone. But if you’re looking for a training coach, check in with Jake. He’ll hook you up.”

  “But I don’t want—”

  “Sorry, but I really have to go. Take care,” I say into the phone just before I disconnect.

  As I reach the table, I look down at Cat… her big, brown eyes swimming with focused curiosity.

  “Ex-girlfriend… Tarryn,” I say by way of explanation. “She has phases where she gets lonely and reaches out to me.”

  “How long did you date?” she asks hesitantly. Possibly feeling the need to explain her question, she adds on, “When you meet people within the confines of The Silo, it’s sometimes hard to picture them in real relationships.”

  I laugh and sit back down at the table, picking up my fork. Food wasn’t getting any warmer, but I was still hungry. “Seven years. Started when we were seventeen. We met at prep school. She was a competitive alpine skier too.”

  Cat’s eyes flare wide in a holy shit type of way. “Seven years is a long time. Which begs the question… how old are you?”

  “Twenty-eight,” I tell her before taking another big bite of the meatloaf. It really is pretty good. “And you?”

  “Twenty-four. I was twenty-one when I married Samuel.”

  “And you’ve got the best of your life still to come,” I tell her.

  Cat gives me a faint smile, pushing some macaroni around on her plate before asking, “Why did you two break up? That’s a long time to be with someone.”

  “Well, if you ask Tarryn the reasons, she’ll say it’s all my fault,” I tell her with a wry grin.

  Cat’s eyes go round and she dips her chin in mock astonishment. With an exaggerated gasp, she teases, “What? No way. Rand Bishop has faults?”

  I laugh because she’s cute as all get out. Now that I think about it, I never saw Cat smile very much at The Silo. Damn sure never saw her make a joke, but she’s a fucking natural.

  “I’m not without faults,” I tell her, pushing my empty plate away. I contemplate a second helping, but she’s touching on a fairly serious subject even if it’s with some levity. Because even though Tarryn is the one that cheated on me, and it was ultimately the demise of our relationship, I did help drive her there. That’s a tough pill to swallow sometimes.

  “Everyone has faults,” Cat says simply. “It’s called being human.”

  “Well, to make a long story short, since I’d really rather take you back in the bedroom, I’ve got a white-knight syndrome. Or, at least that’s the definition my best friend, Jake, has labeled me with.”

  “A white-knight syndrome?” she asks skeptically with a cocked eyebrow.

  “I’m the type who likes to rescue the damsel in distress. Or so Jake seems to think.”

  “But you don’t think that?”

  I shrug. “Tarryn has her fair share of issues. She didn’t have an easy life growing up, but her natural talent on the slopes got her a full ride to Carrabassett Valley, which is how we met. I saw her skiing as a way for her to have a different life, so I tried to help push her along.”

  “Encouragement is good,” Cat points out.

  “Yeah… it wasn’t just encouragement. I mean, I really pushed at her. Pushed her to train, lead a clean lifestyle, and work harder than she ever has in her life. Because that’s what I did to be at the top of the game, and I wanted the same for her. It was her ticket out of a mediocre life. It takes hardcore training to compete at the Olympic level. Tarryn’s a great skier, but she’s not a great athlete. I wanted her to follow me in my path, and really… she just wanted to be a regular girl. She didn’t want the gold medals the way I did, and I just couldn’t understand it.”

  Cat’s face softens with understanding. “You wanted it bad for her, but she didn’t want it for herself.”

  “Exactly,” I say pointing a finger in her direction. “The last few years weren’t great before we broke up. I was traveling, and she was living here doing some ski instruction. She started seeing someone else, and when I found out about it, I wasn’t all that broken up. I think it all just sort of withered up and died from neglect, but I recognize my part in that for sure. I pushed her so hard that she became bitter. On top of that, I was traveling a lot for competitions, and we were apart most of the time because she wasn’t skiing at my level. So, the way she looks at it is that I pushed her right at someone else.”

  “That doesn’t excuse cheating,” Cat says hotly. “If she didn’t respect the relationship, she should have ended it.”

  Again, I shrug. She’s not telling me anything I haven’t thought about more than a time or two since we broke up almost four years ago. “I agree. But I’ve let it go. And I learned from it.”

  “That you shouldn’t rescue damsels in distress,” Cat says, and I can tell by the pointed look on her face she’s talking abou
t herself.

  “No, that’s not what I learned,” I tell her with a censuring look. “A good man always helps a woman if she needs it. But I learned that sometimes my definition of who needs help is different from others. In Tarryn’s case, she didn’t need what I was pushing on her, and since I can practically see that beautiful brain of yours trying to work out how this means I view you, let me assure you, two nights ago, you needed rescuing. You needed a hand up, so I gave it to you. That’s all it was, Cat. Plain and simple.”

  “So none of your attraction to me has to do with the fact that you see me as lost and needing rescued?”

  “I was attracted to you long before I found you sleeping in your car, Cat. Hell, I’ve even fantasized about you when I was getting my dick sucked by another girl.” I lean forward and put my forearms on the table, staring at her hard so she understands what I’m saying. “But I’m not going to lie either. I couldn’t stand to see you hurt and alone. If that’s my white-knight complex, so fucking be it. It brought me into your life on a deeper level. But most assuredly, the reason I was jacking off in the shower to you, and the reason I think I’ll be fucking you repetitively tonight, is that I find you fascinating and attractive on more than just a physical level. If it was just physical, I’d be at The Silo right now instead of my mouth watering to get back on your pussy again.”

  Cat sort of rears backward in her chair and blinks at me in confusion. “You find me fascinating?”

  “You’re smart, tough as nails, and resilient. You have a wicked sense of humor, although I’d like to see more of it. You cook a pretty damn good meatloaf and survived an intolerable situation with plenty of grace intact. Oh, and you give the best blow job I’ve ever had in my life.”

  She giggles over that last part, which is exactly what I was hoping for. It wasn’t a lie about it being the best blow job ever, but I knew it would lighten the seriousness of what I was saying.

  “Look, Cat,” I say, causing her giggles to dry up, but she looks at me through smiling eyes. “I like you. I think you like me. I think we sure as hell like fucking each other. You’ve got a place to stay until you get on your feet, so the pressure is off. Let’s enjoy this and see where it goes, okay? I could totally be on board with us going at it with each other every night.”