I know this should stun me, but it truly doesn’t. Not after what I’ve seen in The Silo. Not after what I had just done. Woolf’s voice drops a little and his fingers stroke at my shoulder. “The funny thing is… we didn’t do it for the money. I mean… Bridger needed the money and I gave it all to him because I was rich as shit, but that’s not why we did it. We did it for the thrill… always trying to make that next orgasm bigger and better. We did it for the shock value and before you knew it… we were sort of addicted to that shit.”
“Like a drug?” I asked with skepticism.
“Maybe,” he said softly. “I just know… when it came to my sexual lifestyle, I liked it kinky and varied, and I was always looking for the next big rush with the sex. I never went back for seconds though.”
I couldn’t help the slight sting of jealousy and sadness that hit me. Woolf has been with so many women. Beautiful, gorgeous, sinful women that would do far dirtier things than I ever did with him. But I pushed past it because as I lay in his arms and listened to him tell me all about the importance of Bridger, I realized… he’d come back for far more than seconds with me.
Woolf went on to explain that in their senior year at the University of Wyoming, they had thrown a sex party and were stunned to see the dean’s daughter had shown up with her boyfriend. Apparently, they ended up in a threesome with Woolf, which had been recorded by someone that had snuck in a smart phone.
Within days, the video had gone viral, but only three things were discernable from the grainy quality.
The dean’s daughter’s boyfriend, who was on his back on a mattress and looking unbeknownst right at the camera.
The dean’s daughter, who was straddling his cock and had her head tilted to the side, looking unbeknownst right at the camera.
And the back of a dark-haired man with a tattoo of a bucking bronco on his right shoulder blade, who was not looking at the camera but was clearly fucking the dean’s daughter up the ass.
My head popped back up off Woolf’s chest and I looked down at him in shock, because my lips had traced across that very same tattoo many times this past week.
“Oh, my God,” I said in a whisper, and then actually covered my mouth with my hand. “What happened?”
“I was on a one-way ticket to getting kicked out of school because I had been identified by that tattoo. Not just for going all anal on the dean’s daughter, but for setting up the sex party to begin with. It sort of outed me to the campus police what we had been doing.”
“But you didn’t get kicked out?” I surmised, because I know he graduated with a degree in animal sciences.
Bitter sadness filled Woolf’s eyes and he shook his head. “Behind my back, Bridger turned himself into the campus police, who were conducting the investigation before I could even be called in for questioning. Appears the asshole had gone out and gotten a matching tattoo on his back.”
“He took the fall for you,” I said in amazement.
“And I’ll never be able to repay him for it,” he concluded with finality. “He got kicked out of school and lost the ability to complete his degree.”
I didn’t know what to say. I was mortified at the things Woolf had admitted to doing, and incredibly touched by the lengths that Bridger went to protect his friend. I don’t know about Bridger’s background, but Woolf’s family would have been terribly battered by such a scandal. The Jennings were too public to not have that adversely affect them.
I wanted to ask more questions, but in reality, I sensed that Woolf telling me that story was something I should treasure. He never admitted as much, but I think I may be only the third person that truly knows what happened there. As such, I was incredibly humbled he shared it with me and also incredibly turned on by his trust in me.
I leaned down and kissed him, letting my hand slide down his stomach to his cock, which started swelling the minute my fingers wrapped around it. I then proceeded to show him with my mouth just how much it meant that he shared that story with me.
“Callie… hey, wait up,” I hear from behind me, and instantly, my memories of Woolf and blow jobs fade away.
Turning, I see Colton jogging across the parking lot toward me. My muscles lock with anxiety because Woolf had told me Colton had shown up at the cabin last night as he was helping me into the Range Rover. I hadn’t seen him as I had my head bowed down, rooting through my purse for some gum, but I was terrified he had seen me. Woolf wasn’t sure or not, but he said Colton didn’t seem to recognize me, hopefully because it was so dark outside where the truck was parked.
“Hey,” I say with as bright a smile as I can muster. “What are you up to?”
Colton’s eyes travel down me briefly, and is that my imagination, or did they linger on my breasts? I can’t tell because it was a quick maneuver of his gaze, and then he’s staring at me intently. “Just grabbing a few things for dinner tonight. Interested in joining me?”
“Um… thank you, but no. I’ve actually got some work to do tonight.”
Colton manages to take another step in toward me, and I’m practically pinned up against the door to my truck. His hand comes out and he grazes a finger down the side of my arm. “Come on, Callie. You need to have a little fun. All work and no play makes Callie a dull girl.”
Huh. I bet he wouldn’t think me so dull if he saw me with Bridger and Woolf last night.
I shake my head and pull my arm back. “Actually, I can’t. I think I’m going to try to work on patching things up with my fiancé. He was just here in town and we’ve been talking again.”
It’s a bald lie. The part about patching things up, that is, but I couldn’t think of any other way to put Colton off. I hold his gaze solidly, hoping the squared set to my shoulders lends more truth to my quavering voice.
Colton just stares at me a moment, his eyes flicking back and forth between my own. Finally, he places his forearm on the edge of my truck bed, leaning his face in closer to me.
In a soft voice, he says, “That’s a shame to hear.”
I release the air I had been holding in my lungs slowly, so he doesn’t understand how relieved that makes me to hear him say that. He nods his head and tips his hat as he takes a step backward. “Have a nice evenin’, Callie.”
“You too,” I murmur, but he’s already turned away and walking back across the parking lot.
He said all the right words.
Acted as if he bought my explanation.
And yet, something heavy settles in the pit of my stomach. I think it was because of the slight smile he gave me just before he turned away.
I’m pretty sure it said, “Nice try, Callie Hayes, but I got your number.”
Chapter 19
Woolf
I miss Callie and that fucking bothers me.
I am utterly obsessed with her, and I can’t seem to concentrate for shit. This bothers me because not only have I never given another woman this much of my attention before, but I’ve never given another person in the entire world this much of my devotion, and that includes Bridger. It scares the piss out of me that all I can seem to think about is her.
Tenn arrived by plane at a little after three PM, and of course, I didn’t even see him walk out of the airport because I was thinking of Callie. Or, more specifically, the way I ate her pussy this morning, then fucked her hard doggie style, and almost made myself pass out from the force of the orgasm I had. I think she did pass out for a few seconds.
Or the way after dinner tonight, Tenn suggested we get started going over some business matters he came in to discuss, and of course, I was thinking about Callie. Except it wasn’t about sex and Callie, which does indeed take up a lot of my day, but rather about how fucking good it feels to sleep with her all night with my arms wrapped tightly around her and the smell of her gardenia shampoo in my nose.
Fucking woman is what I’m turning in to.
We just finished making some coffee and started back in on the financials, and even now, as Tenn flips through this q
uarter’s P&Ls for the various subsidiary companies under JennCo, I tap my pencil on my thigh, which makes me think of spanking Callie. I wonder if she’d get off on it?
I bet she would.
In fact, I will definitely spank that gorgeous ass next time we’re together while the fingers on my other hand are shoved deep inside her—
“Everything looks in order,” Tenn says as he closes the large binder and throws it down on the coffee table, sadly making all thoughts of my palm heating Callie’s ass up splinter and dissolve. We had spread everything out in the Great Room and sipped on coffee while I brought him up to date on everything. After my father died, Tenn promised to stay involved with the company until I felt secure enough for him to walk away for good. Tenn wanted to live his simple life in North Carolina with Casey, Zoe, and Bree.
And I’m thinking that time is about now, because while Tenn had planned on staying a week to visit, I’ve managed to update him on everything in just under one evening thanks to some well-organized reports from Marta.
He picks up his coffee cup from the table and tilts it until it’s drained. When he sets it down, he leans back on the couch and studies me for a moment. Finally, he says, “Bro… I’m not sure why you need me involved anymore. You’re doing a fucking fantastic job.”
I know I should be all aflutter from his praise, but I’m not. I haven’t done anything that amazing, because truthfully, JennCo has an unparalleled Board of Directors, vice presidents, and attorneys that pretty much keep things going for us. Like Tenn, I review a few reports to keep my eye on things, make a few suggestions, but mostly, I let my advisors lead the way. Now granted, I still have a very active hand in managing the Double J, because there’s no denying that the actual practice of ranching is part of my DNA. I do love that aspect of running the business and have never once thought of backing away from that.
In truth, I guess I’ve never invested one-hundred percent in to the thought of backing away from JennCo either. While I’ve always slightly resented that I’ve had to bear the burden of it, particularly when I started The Wicked Horse, the truth of the matter is that I’m not sure I could abandon it. While for a period of time I thought the club might be my true calling in life, when it boils down to it, I’ve managed to run JennCo, the ranch, and The Wicked Horse—with Bridger’s help of course—just fine. And if I can continue to manage all three enterprises as well as let Tenn free to live his life, then there really is no reason for me to even tell him about The Wicked Horse.
Right?
Because that was my goal on this trip of his back home. To let him in on what really motivates me. To share with him the person I truly am.
He loves tinkering with his motorcycles… I love tinkering with kinky sex.
Not that much different to my way of thinking.
Except, there’s a damn good argument to be made that he should just stay in the dark where The Wicked Horse is concerned. It’s not hurting him or the business. It’s operated on the down low, and I’ve been able to smoothly handle both lives with no problems.
“What about Stokes’ Red Angus crossbreeds?” Tenn asked conversationally. “Any good?”
I had managed to make it over to Colton’s ranch to check out his stock last week and wasn’t overly impressed. He talked a good game but in my opinion, the musculature on the cattle had the potential to fall short of Angus certification standards. “I took a pass on purchasing from him. They were nice but didn’t overwhelm me, and I don’t want to risk weakening our stock. I’ll take my chances at auction.”
Tenn nods. “I heard through the grapevine that after his daddy had that bypass, he’s been having troubles maintaining the ranch.”
I blink in surprise. “Really? Colton always made it sound like things were going great.”
With a shrug, Tenn pushes up from the couch and grabs his cup. “Who knows? Want another cup of coffee?”
“Sure,” I say as I hand him my mug just as the doorbell rings.
Tenn nods his head toward the door. “You see who’s here and I’ll get us filled back up.”
I push up and off the couch and walk over to the east staircase that leads up to the first level. The front door to the house leads to nothing more than a large foyer that overlooks the interior of the two-story Great Room below, since the house is built into the back of a butte and falls downward from the top floor. The massive Great Room’s southern wall is nothing but floor-to-ceiling panes of glass framed in cedar providing a stunning view of the Teton mountain range.
I jog up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and swing the front door open just as the doorbell rings again.
Rather insistently, this time.
I put on an annoyed face to level at whoever is standing on the other side, but as soon as I see Governor Hayes standing there with a furious look on his face, my annoyance is forgotten.
Now I’m filled with gut-wrenching dread.
“We need to talk,” he grits out between teeth clenched so tightly, I’m not sure his jaw will ever come unhinged.
There’s only one reason he’s standing on my front porch looking like that, so I have to ask him, “Is Callie alright?”
“As if you even care,” he hisses as he takes a step toward me.
I back up, not out of fear but out of respect. Opening the door wider, I motion him inside, and he storms past me. With a sigh and a brisk rub of my forefinger over the bridge of my nose, I close the door and follow him down the stairs.
Governor Reginald Hayes knows his way around my house well. He and my father were tight friends, having known each other most of their lives, and of course, my father contributed a lot of money to his political campaigns and to the campaigns of his cronies over the years. I’ve not been much of one to follow the political scene, but I’ve instructed my CFO to make appropriate donations to Reggie when he’s needed them, out of familial respect. His son, Richard, was one of my closest friends after all, and I could even say Reggie was somewhat of a father figure to me.
But now as he hits the bottom step and rounds on me, looking madder than a rattlesnake, I know that he’s holding not one ounce of affection for me.
Callie got her looks from her father, as her mother, Ellen, has fair skin and hair. Now Reggie’s green eyes that he passed on to Callie are almost red with fury as he says, “Just what in the fuck have you gotten my daughter involved in, Woolf?”
I hold my hands up in supplication. “Reggie… you need to just calm—”
“Don’t you tell me to calm down,” he bellows as he advances on me. I back up but he keeps charging, until I’m stopped by the stone wall that borders the fireplace. His hands come to my t-shirt and grip me tightly. Even though he’s shorter than me by several inches, he has the rage of a protective father coursing through him and he pulls me forward before slamming me back into the wall.
And I let him, because fuck… if I had a daughter and some man did to her what I did to Callie… I’d fucking kill him. No doubt.
The next thing I know, Reggie is pulled back by Tenn’s strong arms around his stomach and pushed not too gently away. While he too respects Governor Hayes, he’s reacting out of protective instinct of his brother at the moment.
“What the hell is going on?” Tenn says in what is a moderately calm voice as he looks between Reggie and me. I pull the edge of my t-shirt down, straightening out the wrinkles left from Reggie’s fists, and try to stall for a good answer.
Too late.
Reggie points a shaking finger at me while he looks at Tenn. “Your brother is a fucking pervert, and he ruined my daughter.”
“Now wait a goddamned second—” I start to say, because that’s not really accurate, but Tenn steps toward Reggie menacingly.
In true big brother fashion, he takes my back without even knowing if I’m guilty. “I suggest you tone it down a notch, Reggie, or I’ll be forced to see you out, governor or no governor title to your name.”
Reggie isn’t dissuaded but merely comes at
me a different way. He turns to face me and almost spits out with disgust, “Tell him. Tell your brother all about your sex club and the orgies you have there. Tell him about bringing Callie there for an orgy.”
“What the fuck?” Tenn says incredulously at Reggie, still disbelieving a word he’s saying about his little brother.
I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment and take a deep breath, because I can’t let Tenn keep defending me when Reggie is skirting too close to the truth.
“It wasn’t an orgy,” I say tiredly, feeling the weight of my brother’s surprised stare. “It was a private group of people that got together for—”
Reggie’s fist comes out of nowhere and catches me solidly on my left jaw. My head rocks hard and I stagger back a step, but I right myself quickly and manage to catch his follow-up punch with one hand.
Tenn jumps in and pulls Reggie away again, who is now so red in the face and panting hard, that I’m afraid he’s going to have a heart attack.
“Sit down,” Tenn orders Reggie and pushes him into the nearest chair. He then points to me. “Park your ass on the couch and you better do some fucking fast talk to clear this up.”
I refuse to take the couch as my brother orders, because I’m not a child, but I go ahead and lay it all out for him. “A little over a year ago, I started construction on a nightclub called The Wicked Horse. It’s been open a few months now.”
“It’s a sex club,” Reggie growls.
I hold my hand up to him and give a glare. “It’s a nightclub, but there are buildings behind it that I sell private memberships to. The patrons have access to a secure and private place where they can meet up with people of like minds—”
“Perverts,” Reggie huffs.
“—who can live out their sexual fantasies safely.”
Tenn’s mouth flops opens, and he stares at me as if he didn’t understand a word of what I just said. But then it seems to hit him all at once.
“You built this on Double J property?” he asks slowly.
“Yes.”
“With family money?”
The Wicked Horse Boxed Set (The Wicked Horse Series) Page 17
