The Wicked Horse Boxed Set (+Wicked Bond [5]) by Sawyer Bennett
Cain doesn't even bother to acknowledge Bridger, but looks left and then right at the people all around us. Many of them are watching the action in the rooms, but others are just enjoying quiet drinks as they mingle close by.
"Right here?" he asks incredulously.
"Sure," I say with a shrug. "What's the difference except a piece of glass separating us and maybe some useful furniture?"
And to prove my point, I turn to one of the swivel stools sitting at the circular bar behind Bridger and pat my hand on it. "You could bend me over this and just go to town."
Cain shakes his head. "Yeah, that's not going to happen--"
I give a startled yip when Bridger's hands go to my waist. He easily picks me up, sits my ass down on the black, lacquered bar, and motions his hand toward me. "There you go, Cain. Your girl wants to get fucked right here."
I expect Cain to argue and pull me down, because I can tell I've thrown him off his game tremendously. It makes me feel good to know I can fluster the great sex machine and master, Cain Bonham.
But instead, his eyes narrow at me and then spark with an almost evil intent. He steps up to the bar, in between my legs that are dangling over the edge, and puts his hands on my knees.
Giving them a squeeze, he asks, "Right here?"
"Right now," I whisper in affirmation.
"Suit yourself," he says with a wicked laugh. His hands quickly pull my sweatpants free of my legs. I have to slap my hands on the bar for leverage as he practically pulls me right off the top along with my pants. His hands go back to hips, and then my underwear is being whipped free.
I take a moment and look around. Bridger putting me up on the bar caught everyone's attention that was sitting to the left and right. A few nearby couples watch with interest, and my head turns to Bridger, who is just standing casually next to me, his elbow resting on the bar near my thigh. He gives me a wink and says, "Enjoy, Sloane."
Cain bends over, presses his face right in between my legs, and runs his tongue up my center. A hoarse bark of surprise pops out of my mouth and I lean to one side to put weight on that arm, my other hand coming to Cain's head to hold him to me. With nothing but the power of his tongue and the movement of his face side to side, he starts working against my clit in a determined fashion.
"That's hot," Bridger says, and my eyes flutter closed without even looking at him. This is way hotter than what I imagined fucking in any of those rooms would be like. While the view is just as unobstructed, I guess there is some security in that wall of glass that separates the fuckers from the watchers.
Pain bursts in my right nipple. My eyes fly open to see Bridger's head at chest level, my t-shirt and nipple in between straight, white teeth. He then sucks at it through the material, licking to alleviate the sting. He pulls away and winks at me again, then turns his back on Cain and me, as if he's totally uninterested, which makes what he just did all that more wicked.
Cain works his tongue against me furiously, moaning his approval over my taste and scent. He flutters hard, growls against me, and my orgasm catches me off guard.
"Fuck," I cry out shrilly, my fingers digging into his scalp.
He laughs, kisses my pussy, and then stands up straight. Reaching over onto the bar, he grabs a napkin off a stack and wipes his mouth. He crudely balls it up and tosses it on the top right by my hip.
"Was that what you wanted?" he asks me soberly. "Did you like everyone watch you get your pussy tongue fucked?"
I swallow hard because I hear anger in his voice, and I don't get it. Isn't this what he wanted too? I mean, this is his fucking life. He's a member of this club, and I just tried to show him I can be as down and dirty as any of these people.
Plus, there's the added benefit of me getting a story.
Before I can say a word, Cain is pulling me off the bar and throwing me back over his shoulder.
I protest with a "Hey, what the hell--" but he reaches his hand up, slides it up the back of my thigh, and presses a finger into my pussy from the back of me. I buck against the sensation, but his strong shoulder bears the burden. I'm upside down, but he spins away from the bar and starts walking away from the hallway that leads outside.
I have no clue where we're going until I hear a door open, the sound of a light being turned on, and then the door closing again. Cain bends over and puts me down, steadying me by my shoulders as I straighten up.
I get only a moment to sweep my gaze left and right, immediately realizing we're in some type of supply room. Floor-to-ceiling metal shelves lined with boxes, bottles, tubes, and bags filled with sexual paraphernalia.
"Why are we--?"
My words are cut off as Cain slams his mouth against mine, giving me a deep and bruising kiss. When he pulls away, he simply says, "No talking, Sloane."
His hands come to my t-shirt and he whips it over my head, leaving me completely naked before his lips are on me again. Cain's hands come to my ass and he hauls me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. He walks back five paces until I'm pressed up against a cold, concrete wall.
Cain then kisses me so soundly and thoroughly, my head starts to get fuzzy. He possesses me with his lips and tongue, and he seems to be trying to communicate something to me in the ferocity of his touch. My heart reacts, my arms winding around his neck, and I start to kiss him back.
I kiss Cain right there in a dismally lit storage room. The way his tongue strokes and rolls over mine is of a completely different nature. It seems to be full of apology and regret, and my answering kiss seems to tell him I understand even though I'm still hurt. Without a single word being said between us, the kiss speaks volumes.
I'm barely cognizant of my surroundings, perhaps I notice the sound of Cain's zipper coming down, I'm not sure, but then he's thrusting inside of me. The initial burst of pleasure with the tiny stretching sting makes me gasp into his mouth.
"Fuck, that feels good," Cain groans against my lips, and his hips start hammering at me. He thrusts up into me, grinding my spine into the wall and groaning in lustful abandon.
I try to say his name... I think in praise for how wonderful this is... but he's pounding into me so hard I stutter, "Ca-ai-ai-ai-ai-n." He ignores me, fucking me harder and faster. My fingers dig into the back of his neck and I press my face into his shoulder, hanging on for the ride as he completely dominates me.
Cain pulls back and slams in, causing me to cry out, and then he goes still. I pull my face up and look at him. His face is flushed with a sheen of sweat, but his eyes reflect back a brokenness that causes my heart to cramp.
"I don't want to lose you, Sloane," he says gruffly, and then because we can't ignore the way he's lodged in me, all of our nerves pulsing for release, he does a slow swivel of his hips and grinds into me again.
I moan, "Then don't."
Please, please don't.
He pulls back, sinks into me slowly. "I don't want anything but this pussy right here."
My muscles clutch reflexively over the yearning in his voice, squeezing onto his cock hard. He groans again, pulls out, and slams back in.
He does it again and again. He picks the pace back up, tunneling deep as if he's trying to crawl inside my body. A singular shudder of pleasure ripples up my spine, back down again, and then bursts wide open in a firestorm of release that catches me completely by surprise.
"Oh, Cain," I call out as my head falls back against the wall.
Cain drives deep, plants his feet so he can grind hard against me, and starts to fall apart. His face falls to my shoulder, his fingers dig into my hips, and his cock starts to pulse inside of me as he climaxes.
His breathing is harsh, his shoulders hunched.
His face remains hidden.
Cain draws in a deep, stuttering breath. When he lifts his forehead from my shoulder, he looks me dead in the eye. "I'm not going to do it. Friday... with Amy. I'm yours and yours alone if you'll have me."
My eyes flare with surprise as pure joy seems to burst within every molecule of
"As a heart attack," he says gravely. "I want you so much, Sloane. I'll give the sex club up. I'll find some other way to earn money. If I come back here, it will be with you... only as a couple."
The only way I can answer him is by taking his face in my hands and kissing him hard. He barely gets his tongue in my mouth before I'm pulling back to look at him, still disbelieving of the sacrifice he's making for me. "You'd do that for me?"
"I think you're pretty amazing," he says with a smile. "I know it's only been a few weeks, but this is so different from anything I've had before. I want more of it, and I'll do what it takes to keep it."
I slam my chest against Cain's, wrap my arms around his neck, and press my face against his. My eyes get wet with emotion, and I whisper, "I can't believe this. It's more than I could have wanted."
He squeezes me affectionately and mumbles, "So we're cool?"
"We're cool," I say as I smile, and I know he can feel it from where my cheek lays against his.
Another squeeze to my waist and then Cain starts to lower me to the ground. His cock slips free and the minute it does, a stream of liquid runs down my inner thighs.
I look down as Cain steps backward.
He looks down, sees his semen trickling down, and curses, "Fuck."
Cain puts his hands on my shoulders, and I look up at him.
"I am so sorry, Sloane," he says tritely. "Christ... I wanted in you so bad, I wasn't thinking. And then... I realized it, but then I wanted to come inside you, and I just couldn't fucking help it. But I promise to fucking God Almighty... I'm clean. I have to take health screenings routinely, and I always wear a rubber. I swear it."
"It's okay," I assure him, because I trust him on that issue. "I'm sure it's fine."
"Are you--?"
I nod. "--on birth control? Yes."
Cain sighs in relief, pressing his forehead against mine for a minute. When he pulls back, I also assure him, "I should be clean too. I mean... that's the first time I've had sex without a condom. But I can go get tested."
I could tell that issue hadn't crossed his mind, so he shrugs it off. "I'm sure it's fine. But how about we both get tested and since it's just you and me, we do away with wrapping my dick up, okay?"
I can't help but laugh. "Okay. I will have to say, it's way nicer that way."
"Oh, yeah." He chuckles. "That was the fucking bomb, I shit you not."
"You're a poet," I say drily.
"And this poet really needs to get you dressed, back to my place, and then back to work."
"Will you send Amy an email cancelling?" I hesitantly ask him.
"Even better... I'm going to tell Bridger right now as we're leaving. He can handle the cancellation with her, and besides... I'm sure he can find some other guys to handle it."
"Like Logan or Rand? I assume they're members?"
"Or any number of other horny members," he points out with an affirming nod. "The club has almost one-hundred and fifty members. She's not going to be suffering from lack of attention."
"Okay, then," I say with a relieved breath. It seems like in the blink of an eye, things have changed drastically for Cain and me. It causes hope and happiness to fizz within me like a fine champagne.
"And Sloane," Cain says as he tucks himself into his pants. "You can't tell anyone about this club, okay?"
A flash of pain stabs into me, seems to tear my guts up as my little happy bubble is burst. Reality filters in, and I realize this line between truth and lies is impossible to walk anymore.
"Yeah... of course," I tell him soberly. "I understand it's a secret."
Chapter 25
Cain
I sit in my truck and look up at my small house. It's never seemed like anything but a house before to me, but knowing Sloane is sitting inside right now sort of changes the dynamic. I could see her staying there permanently with me, making a home with me.
One day.
It's something I haven't had since I moved out of my mom and Walt's house when I went into the Marine Corps at eighteen.
Certainly never had it with Rachel.
I glance at my watch and see it's almost 9:30 PM. I'm more than an hour and a half late to start my shift at The Wicked Horse, but then again, I didn't imagine tonight would ever go down the way it did.
When I saw Sloane sitting at my computer a little more than two hours ago, I could tell by her posture that something was seriously wrong. Although, it never occurred to me that she would have seen Amy's email. Hell, I hadn't even seen it at that point as I hadn't looked at my computer all day. I immediately just assumed she must have gotten some bad news about her mother or something, so when she threw out Amy's name to me, my heart just seized in my chest as I came to the quick understanding that Sloane was lost to me.
My reaction was impulsive, no doubt.
Picking her up, cuffing her to me, and taking her to The Silo was stupid and dangerous. I had no business revealing that to her, and it's something that could have turned out very badly. Could have even cost me my job.
But I had to make her see that yes, it's a sex club, but it's also part of my job. It was the only way I could truly explain to her why I had plans with Amy on Friday night.
What I didn't expect was for Sloane to react in a way I could have never anticipated. I thought she might understand once she saw, but I never expected her to want to partake in the sinfulness there. I expected her to take it all in and then tell me to go to hell.
I most certainly didn't foresee me eating her pussy on the bar in front of everyone, and that was indeed hot.
But when I was done and observing the flush on her face from her orgasm, I had an intense desire to keep our sex private from other eyes. Call it a primal caveman response, or maybe it was my soul recognizing its mate, I don't fucking know, but I had her back over my shoulder and my cock deep inside of her within the confines of the supply closet in seconds.
While I was fucking her, deep as can be, I kept thinking it would be the last time. She was lost to me. I'd never have anything as great as what was in my arms at that moment, and an epiphany rang as clear as church bells on Sunday.
Sloane Meyers was it for me.
She was more important than continuing on with meaningless sex within The Silo, or earning good bonuses from my fantasy making duties. My priorities clarified. I looked with clear eyes upon the woman who I believe was meant for me and for whom I was falling for hard and fast.
That caused me to lose it deep inside of her. I came so ridiculously hard, I almost wept against her shoulder.
I look back at the house. After I drove Sloane home, I walked with her inside. Led her straight back to my bedroom and watched as she crawled onto my bed, shoving her legs under the covers. I kissed her on her forehead and bade her goodnight, with a promise we'd talk more in the morning about what this all meant for us going forward. And though working at The Wicked Horse tonight is the last thing in the world I want to do, I headed back out the door.
My hand goes to the ignition and I start to turn it, eyeballing my house... wait, my home now, one more time.
"Fuck it," I say into the darkness of the truck's cab, pulling the key out.
I grab my phone and send a quick text to Bridger.
I'm taking the night off. Let Mikey know to take charge of the security crew.
I didn't ask Bridger. I just told him, hoping that didn't earn me a firing. But damn... I never take time off from work, always work extra shifts, and have always been at Bridger's beck and call when he needed me. I don't think one night off would be a problem.
Bridger texts back immediately, and apparently, all is good. Not surprised. Have fun.
I smile and open the truck door. He may be hard and scary a good chunk of the time, but I suspect Bridger might have a little bit of softness in the very center of his heart. Maybe not for himself, but he definitely likes those around him to be happy and fulfilled.
Making my way back to the hou
Maybe it's time to even take that ass tonight, which would be an incredible way to cement the new bond we developed.
I creep down the hallway, glad of the worn but soft carpet to hide my footsteps. As I get closer, I hear her voice in a low murmur. I stop just outside the door, not wanting to interrupt if perhaps she's talking to her mom again. I consider even turning around and waiting in the kitchen, when I hear, "Brant... I've got an update."
I freeze, my curiosity piqued, and I tilt my head to continue listening.
"I've done some major digging with Callie Hayes, and I've also been inside the club. It's all locked down tight, and Callie's lips are secured. I've got nothing."
My breath goes stale within my lungs and my stomach seems to be filled with a ball of lead. There's silence, and then a long-suffering sigh. Her voice sounds worn when she says, "There's nothing there. No story. You need to let it go."
What the fuck?
Any thoughts of surreptitiously spying on Sloane evaporate, and I step into the room. She's still in my bed, her knees pulled up almost to her chin, with her back slumped against the headboard. The only sign I've surprised her by my appearance is a heavy sadness that fills her eyes as she realizes I've heard what she's just said.
Keeping her eyes locked on me, she says into the phone, "I was hoping I could persuade you differently."
My anger starts rising as I realize Sloane isn't who I thought she was at all. I've heard enough to know she's been planted here to find something on The Silo, and by the sounds of it, something about Callie.
Which means Woolf must be targeted as well.
But why?
"Brant... you do what you need to do, but there's nothing here on my end. Run the story if you have to. I'm afraid this will serve as my notice too. I quit."
Sloane then winces as whoever is on the other line must be issuing a string of vulgarities. She listens for only a few seconds before disconnecting the call. She stares at the phone for a moment, seemingly lost in deep thought, and then drags her eyes back up to me.