The Wicked Horse Boxed Set (+Wicked Bond [5])

by Sawyer Bennett

  "Thanks," I tell her and watch as she turns to head down the arched stairway to the first floor.

  With a sigh, I chug the rest of my champagne, almost sneezing from the bubbles that seemed to have drifted into my nose, and turn to set the glass on a small buffet table resting against the wall.

  I walk to my room, loving the lightheaded feeling and hoping it will help me get a good night's sleep. I haven't slept for shit since my father went berserk this past weekend, and that's due mainly to the fact that I miss Woolf. I miss working in his office at the Double J, and the way he would joke with me. That smile... his easygoing ways. Oh, and sex. I really, really miss sex with him.

  As I close my bedroom door behind me, I reach behind my neck to undo the delicate, silver-chained necklace that I paired with the yellow strapless summer dress I had worn for the party. I kick off my sandals, which are white and covered with little white and yellow leather daisies along the straps. Throwing my necklace on my vanity stand, I open my wardrobe, intent on hanging my dress back up.

  When the door swings open, revealing the full-length mirror attached to the inside, I give a tiny scream of fright when I see someone lying behind me on my bed. I spin around, clutching my hands to my chest, and even though my brain recognizes Woolf casually lounging, his back propped up against the headboard and his booted feet crossed over each other, my heart is still galloping away from me like an insane racehorse that's gone off track.

  "Jesus," I rasp out. "You scared the shit out of me."

  Woolf surges off the bed, his face grim as he strides up to me. "Maybe if you'd return a fucking phone call, I wouldn't have had to sneak in here to see you."

  "I don't think it's--"

  That's as far as I get before his hands are in my hair and he's pulling my face to his. His mouth crushes down against mine, and he instantly reminds me how possessive he can be. He grips me hard, I think maybe intent on hurting me just a little, but his tongue against mine feels too damn good for me to complain. Just as my arms start to involuntarily snake up his chest, he tears free of me and pushes me away.

  "Christ... you drive me fucking mad," he grumbles as he rakes a hand through his hair in frustration. Then he immediately turns soft on me, reaching a hand back out to clasp me around the back of my neck so he can pull me into a tight hug. "Are you okay?"

  My arms go around his waist because I can't freaking help myself. He looks too good, smells even better, and my body responds without listening to that small part of my brain that says, You promised your dad you'd stay away from him.

  Woolf's arms squeeze me, and then he's pushing me back to look at my face. "Are you? Okay?"

  "Yeah... I'm fine."

  "Fuck, I've been so worried. When you wouldn't return my calls, I wasn't sure if your father sent you off to a convent or something."

  I can't help the snort that comes out, followed by a snicker that's completely fueled by champagne bubbles. "I think I'm a little old for that."

  "Then why the hell didn't you return my calls or texts?" Woolf demands angrily.

  My gaze immediately falls away from his. "Because I promised my father I wouldn't."

  "Fuck that," Woolf snarls, and then he's kissing me again.

  With a slight bend, he's got his hands under my ass and he's lifting me up. A quick spin and he has me on the bed. A short fall of his body on top of mine and he has me pinned.

  When his lips go to my throat, I manage to whisper, "Woolf--we shouldn't."

  He merely says, "Shut the fuck up, Callie," and then he's moving down my body and pushing my dress up. Shouldering his way in between my legs, he nudges them apart and with quick, deft hands does nothing more than jerk my underwear to the side so his mouth can latch onto me.

  I cry out over the sensation, my hips flying off the bed as my hands slam to his head to press him down harder against me. He fucking laughs against my wet flesh, and the vibration of it along with his tongue already has me soaring high.

  I guess Woolf is thinking our time may be limited, because he's working quickly on me. I mean, who knows if my father might come looking for me with his shotgun. And oh, God... I didn't even lock my door. My only hope is that the fireworks will start soon and drown out any more cries that pop out of me. Regardless, Woolf attacks me hard with his mouth and tongue, working my clit without mercy. He adds fingers, possibly a thumb, I'm not sure because I can't even bear to look down at his head between my legs. It's too sinfully sexy, so I stare at my ceiling and rotate my hips counter to his movements.

  "Come on, baby," he urges me before fluttering his tongue against me hard.

  I come in a glorious explosion just as the first rocket explodes outside, lighting up my window in a red glow. Woolf continues to lick at me, growling his approval over the way I continue to buck against him in pleasure.

  Finally, he rears up and starts tearing at his belt and fly. When his cock is free from his jeans just barely pushed down past his hips, he hastily grabs at my underwear and pulls them down my legs. He's moving like a man on a mission, and he's not going to be deterred.

  Not that I would deter him.

  "Hurry," I even whisper at him and his eyes fire hot at me. He falls forward, braces one hand on the mattress, and I hike my legs up, spreading them wide with my sundress bunched all around my waist. With his free hand guiding, Woolf pushes his cock deep into me and with every inch that he covers, a long groan tears free from deep in his chest, until he's fully seated inside me. His eyes close and he bites down on his bottom lip as he drops the other hand to the mattress.

  He stays just absolutely still inside of me, seeming to fight for some type of restraint.

  I hold my breath as I watch him, fascinated and amazed at this man who always seems to be so in control, looking like he's on the verge of losing it. He feels so good inside of me. I'm utterly full and truly possessed by him.

  When his eyes open, they pin me in place with a caring tenderness I had not expected after the frenzy of lust that caused him to make me come and drive deep within me in probably less than three minutes.

  "God, I missed this," Woolf murmurs as he gives a hesitant rotation of his hips against me.

  I moan as he rocks against me, squeezing my legs in tight against his hips. "Me too."

  He lowers himself onto me, elbows now supporting his weight on the mattress. He pumps his hips leisurely, and the sensation is exquisite. Woolf drops his face and presses his lips against my neck. "Mmmmmm," he moans against my skin.

  After a few more thrusts, he goes still again and raises his head to look down at me. "Christ, Callie... I want to draw this out but I'm having a hard time here, baby."

  I give a squeeze of my inner muscles, feeling them press in all around on his huge cock inside me. He groans and huffs out a breath of frustration.

  "Just fuck me, Woolf," I say as my hands come to circle around his head. I draw him down because I need his mouth on mine. Just before our lips touch, I tell him, "Fuck me good and hard, okay?"

  Our eyes touch first and he smiles at me. "Okay."

  And then he fucks me hard.

  The rockets explode and boom outside my window, my headboard bangs against the wall, and I can't help the cries that come out of my mouth, which are thankfully muffled by Woolf kissing me the entire time he pounds me down into the mattress. He unleashes four days of pent-up passion and lust onto me, and I love every single fucking minute of it.

  Within moments, I'm orgasming again with such force, tears leak out of my eyes, graze my temples, and tickle at my ears. And still Woolf thrusts into me hard and fast, our bodies coming together so perfectly, I wonder how in the world I could ever give this up.

  Woolf lifts his mouth from my lips, slams into me deep one last time, and drops his forehead down until it's resting against mine. He grinds his pelvis against me as he starts to come. "Oh, fuck. Callie... just fuck, fuck... that feels good."

  He pulls out, slams back in again, and his body shudders. "Still coming... goddamn,
baby."

  His curses are like porn for the ears, knowing that my body has drawn out this normally quiet man in his fucking.

  My hands come to his shoulders and I pet at him through the plaid shirt he's still wearing. I feel his body trembling, releasing all the frustration over what's been going on with us.

  With one last grind of his hips against me, he finally lifts his face up and looks down at me. His forehead is covered in a light sheen of sweat and his breathing is erratic. My own heart is still racing, and I love the feel of him still quite full and heavy inside of me.

  "You okay?" he pants.

  I nod with a smile. "You?"

  He grins at me. "More than okay."

  Woolf rolls off me, taking me with him. He comes to rest on his side with me pressed up against him. I can feel him start to soften but he makes no move to pull out, instead preferring to just let nature take its course.

  After a few moments of silence, Woolf brushes his lips over my forehead and says, "Let's get some of your stuff packed up. You can come stay with me at my house until things cool down and we figure it all out."

  I jerk out of Woolf's hold which causes his dick to slide free of my body and lean up on my elbow to look down at him. "What? No, I can't do that."

  "You can and you fucking will," he growls at me, coming up on his elbow too so we are nose to nose.

  "Woolf... I promised my father I wouldn't see you."

  "And you've broken that promise," he points out as he looks downward at my pussy with his semen leaking out of me. To punctuate his point, he presses a hand to my mound and then slips a finger inside of me. "I'm not giving this up."

  First I groan, but then I push his hand away. I hastily pull my dress down, feeling self-conscious now, and give him a level look. "Woolf... I can't be with you. While I hate it, and it's not fair, there's one thing my father is right about. This will kill his chances of reelection if it ever got out that I was seeing someone who owned a sex club."

  "Then we'll see each other secretly," he says quickly... hopefully. "I don't know the why of it, but I fucking need you, Callie. I've gone crazy these past few days without you."

  Oh, geez. Those words... I think I've been waiting most of my life to hear that from Woolf Jennings. So many times I wanted this man. So many times he's walked away from me. And now, here he is saying he needs me. My little girlie heart just flops over and yells, "Take me. I'm yours."

  But luckily, Callie's big girl head is also in play. "So... what would we do? Just sneak around? Meet for a noon quickie at your office?"

  "If that's all I can get, then yes," he says quickly. "You just tell me when and where. How long you have. I'll make it work. You know I work fast," he says with a grin.

  My gaze lowers, and I pluck at the material of my dress while the fireworks continue to boom outside. "So, we'd just be meeting to hookup for sex?"

  Woolf blinks at me, and I see the moment when he realizes that no girl wants to be considered just a quickie here and there. "No, that's not all it would be."

  "What more could it be?" I ask him, trying not to sound too bitter. "Not like we could go out in public. Not like I can do a sleepover with you."

  Woolf mutters a curse and pushes up and off the bed. He tucks his cock back into his pants and buttons up the fly, relatching the belt. I roll off the opposite side and pull my dress down. I can feel wetness trickling down my leg, and it's bothersome to me. Every bit of the sexiness has been sucked out of the room by our grim talk.

  "Listen... you better go. The fireworks will be ending soon," I tell him softly.

  He walks up to me and cups my cheek. Leaning in, he gives me a quick kiss and looks at me with earnest eyes. "Will you try to meet me tomorrow? We can talk about this some more."

  "I'm not sure," I say, and then nibble on my lower lip. This screams "bad idea".

  "Just think about it," he urges me as his hand pulls me upward on my tiptoes so he can kiss me again. Just a whisper soft touch of his lips against mine. "Please."

  "Okay, I'll think about it."

  Chapter 21

  Woolf

  I balance the three cases of empty beer bottles precariously in my hands, trying to hold as much weight on my forearms as possible.

  "Boss... let me help you with that," Brian says tentatively. He's our newest bartender, not a member of the sex club portion of the business, but he has potential. I heard Stephanie fucked him last week and she said he had the biggest dick she'd ever seen.

  "I've got it," I reply tersely, turning my body so I can back through the swinging door to the storage area.

  Why I'm here at The Wicked Horse, helping to move empty cases of beer, is beyond me? Okay, that's not exactly true. I'm here because I don't know what the fuck to do with myself. Callie doesn't work for me anymore, so the office plain sucks. Callie won't speak to me anymore, so my sex life sucks as well.

  Maybe I'm here because subconsciously, I want to fuck someone brutally hard and bang Callie Hayes out of my mind. Stephanie would actually be a prime candidate except her shift starts in five minutes and she's nowhere to be seen.

  Figures.

  So here I am--President and CEO of JennCo, a Fortune 100 company--moving empty boxes to make room for more boxes because I just don't know what to fucking do with myself. I've been reduced to this pathetic shell of my former self.

  "Are you sure I can't help you with that?" Brian asks again, and because I've just been a real pissant lately, I let him have it.

  "For fuck's sake," I snarl at him. "I fucking got it, okay?"

  And just as I say the word "okay," the top box tips precariously forward and I do a weird swaying motion with my hips and forearms to try to stabilize. In slow motion, I shoot a quick glance at Brian, who's already starting to wince over the impending disaster, and I go ahead and let out a muttered curse as the top box falls.

  It hits the floor with a resounding crash and thousands of tiny shards of brown, broken glass litter the floor behind the bar. As I look down at the smashed pieces, knowing exactly how those poor bottles feel, something inside of me just snaps.

  "Fuck this," I yell out to no one, even though Brian gets the brunt of it. I throw the other two boxes down, reveling in the smash of more broken glass, and turn to stalk out from behind the bar. I catch Brian scrambling for a broom and while I already feel guilty for taking it out on him, I certainly don't spare him another glance as I stalk down to the office I share with Bridger.

  Callie Goddamn Hayes has got me twisted up in knots, and I can't fucking stand it anymore.

  When I slunk out of her house after having unrivaled sex with her, I was optimistic we could work things out. Sure, it wasn't ideal, the amount of sneaking around we'd have to do, but hey... wouldn't that just make it more exciting? Maybe I could sneak into her room at night and fuck her while Governor Hayes snored just down the hall. That was kinky... right? We could sustain ourselves on stolen moments until we figured out something better. I was sure of it.

  Callie said she'd think about it, but I'm not stupid, so I wasn't all that surprised when she called me two days later and told me she just couldn't do it. When I demanded to know why not, I could almost recite the reason before she gave it to me.

  She had softly said, "I'm sorry, Woolf. But what you can offer me isn't enough. I want more."

  I stewed over that for about three days, then I threw caution to the wind and decided to brave her father's shotgun. I showed up at her house, surprised to find Governor Hayes not in residence, but a very stern housekeeper who wouldn't let me in the front door. When I threatened not to leave until Callie came down to talk to me, she admitted that Callie had flown back to Connecticut, and I almost went apeshit on the woman. She looked all kinds of frightened and quickly assured me it was to collect her belongings and bring them back to Wyoming.

  I had to bide my time until she returned and I got another crack at trying to get her to change her mind. My extended grapevine of gossip advised me Callie had flown
back a mere two days after that, but it took me almost another five days to stalk her in an appropriate manner so as to have a few precious moments alone with her.

  I caught her going in her doctor's office.

  I merely followed her in and took her elbow, told Janie Mitchell behind the receptionist desk that Callie would be a few minutes late for her appointment, and marched her right back out again.

  She pulled away from me and growled.

  Yes, little Callie Hayes dared to growl at the wolf.

  "What the hell are you doing?" she demanded, and Christ Almighty... I wanted to throw her up against the side of the building and fuck the hell out of her.

  "Trying to talk some sense into you," I threw back at her, admiring the way her cheeks were flushed with anger, her hair was all tangled from when she pulled away and spun on me, and her nipples were budded against her t-shirt. My cock hurt so bad, I almost wept from the frustration.

  We ended up having a full-blown, yelling argument right there on the sidewalk until Ernie, one of the town deputies, pulled his car over and told us to both move it along... that we were disturbing the peace.

  I kicked his tire in anger before stalking off, pissed as hell at how stubborn Callie was being.

  Didn't she see that what we had was good?

  No, fucking fantastic.

  Didn't she even respect the fact that I gave her monogamy?

  I mean... that's a big fucking deal.

  Why couldn't she just bend a little and give this a chance? I was sure we could make it work, but still... deep down, there was a part of me screaming at myself that I was being a dick about this. I wanted her to give and I was offering nothing back.

  I punch in the alarm code to the office and walk in on Bridger and Stephanie fucking.

  Rolling my eyes, I ignore them, walking right over to my desk where I plop down. I tune out the sound of skin slapping, breathy moans, and deep grunts, and flip on my computer.

  "Want in on this, bro?" Bridger asks, and my eyes cut over to him. "This ass is tight."

  I narrow my gaze on them for a brief moment, and yeah... that's hot. He's fucking her hard in her ass and Stephanie is loving every inch of it. My dick twitches but then it lays back down, totally uninterested. It's pouting as hard as I am that we don't have Callie.