Wicked Need (The Wicked Horse Series Book 3)(38)

“How far can you spread your legs?” I ask her.

She turns her head over her shoulder, eyes at half mast, and tries to kick one leg out, but the constraint from her pants doesn’t give. My eyes slide to her bare ass and just a peek of her * below, and I know that’s not enough for what I want to do.

“Lift your leg,” I tell her, tapping her left calf. She lifts that one up, so I can pull the material of her pants and underwear free. Before setting her foot back to the ground, I kiss the inside of her thigh.

I don’t worry about the other leg, because now she’s free enough to spread wide. Cat doesn’t even wait for my command but pushes her left leg out about a foot. Now her * opens up to me. I surge upward, bringing my hands to her ass and peeling her cheeks apart so I can have better access. Tilting my head back, I bring my mouth to her and slide my tongue in as deep as it will reach.

“Oh, God… Rand,” Cat moans.

She’s wet and tastes amazing. My tongue is drenched with her need, and while my thoughts were to get her off with my mouth, my cock is so painfully hard that I want to give it relief. So I pull my mouth free of her and stand up, my hands working at my belt, button, and zipper. Cat’s ready for me as she bends forward, placing her hands against the window glass and tilting her ass outward.

“That’s a good girl,” I murmur as I pull my cock out.

Step right up to her.

Dip my legs.

Slide my way home.

“Mmmmmm,” I groan through tightly closed lips and gritted teeth. Because f*ck, that feels good.

She responds with a low moan of her own, rotating her hips… trying to draw me in deeper, but that’s impossible. I’m rooted.

“Hard or slow f*cking?” I ask her because I want Cat to start realizing she has choices. I might take control most times and lead the way, but I want her to know she has the right to choose otherwise.

The right to ask for something she wants.

“Slow,” she whispers, and I have to smile. Usually when we go at it, it’s as if we’re in overdrive, both racing as fast as we can to the climax because we know we can do it all over again. But yeah, she’s right. I think, for right now, we go slowly. We have all day and night, as we’re not leaving until tomorrow morning to head back to Jackson.

So I f*ck her very slow and while at times it’s almost torturous to hold back on blowing, in the end, it’s a f*cking stellar orgasm that actually drops both of us to our knees when we come together.





Chapter 14


Cat



I put in my earrings, the only pair I kept that are sedate gold hoops, and check my watch—which I also kept. I kept it because I’m constantly checking the time and will go nuts without it, but also so I could have something else to pawn should I need to down the road.

Walking back out to the kitchen of Rand’s apartment, I look down once again at the note he left me when he jetted out early again before I even woke up.

Cat,

Stuff to do but make sure you’re dressed casual and ready to go by noon.

Rand

Short, to the point, and totally not telling me a damn thing. But it’s the lunch hour and I’m guessing maybe he’s taking me out to lunch. Maybe like a date?

Which is a foreign concept for the most part. I mean… I went out on dates with Samuel. They were formal affairs where he’d send a stylist to me, who would dress and polish me up. Then a driver would pick me up at my crummy little apartment I shared with two other strippers. They’d jokingly say, “Have fun, Vivienne” as I walked out the door, an homage to Pretty Woman.

Samuel would then take me to a posh restaurant I couldn’t even afford to work in and we’d make polite small talk while we ate.

So not sure that’s really a date.

Not the type that a twenty-four-year-old woman should have.

Maybe we’ll go to The Million Dollar Cowboy Bar for burgers, which is totally a tourist trap, but I’m not really a local, am I? Perhaps a stroll around town square afterward? That sounds fun—like a real date should.

The knocking on the door surprises me, and I flip my watch to look at it again. Noon on the dot, but that can’t be Rand as he’d just walk right in.

I go to the door, put my eye to the peephole, and see two women standing there. Young, roughly my age. One a brunette, the other a blonde. I open the door and peer out at them. “Can I help you?”

“Cat, right?” the brunette says, sticking her hand out and not even waiting for mine to meet hers. She takes it and gives a quick handshake. “I’m Callie Hayes… Woolf Jennings’ girlfriend.”

I immediately turn beet red and almost start to hyperventilate. Woolf Jennings’ girlfriend is shaking my hand? What the f*ck?

I mean, seriously, what the f*ck? I had sex with her boyfriend a few times at The Silo back in the day.

I furiously try to scrub some of those images from my head as I desperately try to think of what to say, but then she’s dropping my hand and the blonde—who looks vaguely familiar—steps forward, taking it. “I’m Sloane Preston. I think you know my boyfriend, Cain Bonham.”

A strangled sound gurgles up from my throat, and I go dizzy. I think I might vomit for a moment, as I can only think these women are here to beat the shit out of me. I’ve been with both of their men, on more than one occasion, and in a nastier way than I’m betting these two beautiful women have been, and I just know I’m done for.