Wicked Fall (18 page)

She never blinked once, just insisted, “Yes.”

We then argued for an hour and a half straight. Her reasons were simple. She was intrigued by the wickedness of public sex. She’d been obsessing about the ménage. She wanted me to fuck her and have an audience. And this is the part that killed me. She said, “I want to be a part of your world.”

It killed me because she isn’t a part of that world. She can’t ever be. She’s Callie Hayes. Sweet Callie Hayes. I don’t want that to mar her, and I don’t want her tarnished by it. She may have all kinds of curiosities, but I know deep down in my heart that this shit is not for her. I know way down in my gut that she will be left with a bitter taste in her mouth after it’s all said and done.

My reasons for denying her were stronger. Simply put, I told her I could not have the governor’s daughter participating in an orgy where the citizens of Wyoming or some other state were watching her. I told her through clenched teeth, “Do you have any idea what would happen to your father and his campaign if that got out?”

It didn’t dissuade her. She had an answer for everything. “Put a mask on me. Put a bag over my head. Hell, put a wig on me and garish makeup. There are a hundred ways you could disguise me.”

And the pisser of it was, she’s right. I could disguise her. No one would think twice if I put a hood over her, because everyone would just think it was part of a kinky fantasy. On top of that, chances of her being outed were nil. In addition to the non-disclosure agreement that everyone signed, no cameras or phones are allowed in The Silo or cabins and very few locals are members, so there could never be any proof that she was there.

But I didn’t tell her any of that. I merely continued to try to talk her out of this insane idea. I even carried her off to my bed where I started playing her body like a fiddle. I kept her distracted. Kept her coming over and over again. I fucked her ruthlessly, hoping to bang the idea out of her head. I may have pushed her off course temporarily, but as we lay side by side in my bed, gasping for air after I blew hot and hard into her, she said, “Woolf… please. Don’t shut me away from this part of you. It makes me feel… not good enough for you.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

That right there got me, and I capitulated on the spot.

Sort of.

I told her she couldn’t go to The Silo but that perhaps I could arrange something in a private cabin. She tried to argue but I held firm, and we finally had an agreement of sorts.

Except, I don’t like the fucking agreement. I don’t want Callie anywhere near the depravity of my club. While I can’t figure out why it’s good enough for me but not her, I have to put those worries aside and figure out what kind of fantasy I can give her that won’t destroy her sweet light.

That is what is making me grumpy.

That is why I’m seeking Bridger’s counsel.

I punch in the code to our joint office at The Wicked Horse and walk in. Bridger is seated behind the desk, peering at his laptop.

“What’s up?” he says without looking at me.

I sigh and sit down in my chair opposite of him. “Callie wants to get fucked in front of people.”

Bridger’s head snaps up, and he blinks his eyes in surprise. “She what?”

“Yeah, she’s got it in her head that she wants to ‘be a part of my world’,” I say using air quotes and heavy sarcasm. “Seems she was quite taken with a ménage she watched and then threw out the ‘I’m not good enough for you so that’s why you won’t take me’ card.”

Bridger chuckles and looks back to the computer. “So give it to her. Our world
is
kind of fun.”

“It’s not that easy,” I tell him in frustration. “I get she’s curious about it, but come on, Bridger… she’s not built for that stuff. You know it as much as I do.”

His gaze slides back over to me, and he tilts his head to the side. “What exactly do you think she’s built for?”

I shrug my shoulders and drum my fingers on the desk. “She’s too innocent for that shit. Callie is made for sweet and slow afternoon fucks in the privacy of a bedroom. I know she thinks it would be a rush, but trust me… she wouldn’t be able to share such intimacy with strangers, and you know there’s a lot of sharing in those situations.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” Bridger says as he leans back in his chair. “You set the rules.”

I’m quiet for a moment, because I know that’s true as well. My brain whirs, trying to really pinpoint what it is about this situation that has me so wigged out. I could take Callie to one of the group sex rooms at The Silo, slap a bag over her face, and fuck her in front of everyone. I could make it just about me and her and the anonymity would protect her. Hopefully minimize the amount of shame that I know she’ll inevitably feel afterward, because even though she acts like she’s supportive of these choices that people make with their sex lives, I do know Callie Hayes better than she knows herself, and it’s not a lifestyle she could ever truly be a part of. Her soul couldn’t handle the moral strain it would inflict.

“You know there’s no legitimate reason you have for denying her.” Bridger points out something I already fucking know well. “So I would have to surmise your hesitation stems from something else.”

Bridger levels me with one of his wise looks, his eyes swirling with knowledge and sage advice. “Say you get her in the room, and you’re fucking her. And it’s amazing, and Callie’s really into it. And halfway through, the couple next to you who are fucking asks for a switch. What would you do?”

My stomach flips over, tightens, and then curls in upon itself. I realize in a nanosecond that I truly don’t want anyone else. I’m not sure if I will always feel this way, but I can honestly say right now that Callie satisfies me on all accounts. The thought of fucking another woman is almost…

Abhorrent?

And why is that, for fuck’s sake? I love women. All kinds. They all seem to offer up something different. I suppose, if I had to take a guess, perhaps I think Callie doesn’t have the confidence in herself to share me. To know that even if I were to take advantage of just such an offer, she wouldn’t have enough trust within me to separate out an act that is purely physical from an act, such as we do together, that involves feelings.

But what about what she wants? What if Callie wants to experiment like that? I can’t say the notion is all that unpleasant to me, because I’ve seen firsthand how couples—and I’m talking about serious, monogamous, in-love couples—will fuck other people within the safe boundaries of The Silo. It doesn’t seem to diminish their feelings for each other, and if anything, I suppose it’s a testament to the strong bonds they have.

And the thought of Callie getting pleasured by other men. Okay, back up a second… that’s actually a little unpleasant now that I can envision it. Nameless, faceless men making her gasp and writhe in pleasure. Fucking her. Making her come. What if she likes it better than with me? What if she wants more from someone else? What if she falls in love with someone else?

What if I’ve turned into a motherfucking pussy thinking all these thoughts? Christ, I think I have a vagina bigger than my cock.

All ludicrous thoughts and they shouldn’t make a damn bit of an impression on me, yet I end up saying to Bridger, “Can’t do it.”

Bridger nods at me in understanding. He’s seeing for the first time that Woolf Jennings has just gotten all proprietary with a woman, and he doesn’t seem surprised in the slightest, even while I’m mortified I just said that.

“Your heart’s tied up big time, man,” he says sagely.

“It would appear so,” I mutter.

“So what are you going to tell her?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Any ideas?”

Bridger taps his finger on his chin for a moment. “Give her something. A safe fantasy. Do it in one of the private cabins. Give her something that makes her feel wicked and sinful, and yet doesn’t cross any boundaries that you have.”

“Like what?” I ask, because while I can do a variety of naughty things to her, I sort of got the feeling that Callie was interested in The Silo because of the exhibitionism. The wickedness of sharing her sexuality with anonymous strangers, while having the safety and comfort of me there. I know she was sure as shit turned on by the thought of two men pleasuring one woman. I bet she would have perished watching Catherine with a group of five.

“Do a ménage,” Bridger throws out. “With me.”

It’s funny how just a minute ago the thought of Callie with another man was about as distasteful as eating a bucketful of cow shit, but for some reason, I don’t have that visceral reaction when I think of Bridger playing with us. That is solely due to the fact that I trust Bridger with my life, and I’d trust Callie’s to him as well. I also know for a sound fact that Bridger would never even think to try to move in on Callie. It’s a trust due to the bond we have, but more than that… Bridger is not a man who will ever get involved with a woman. While he loves fucking them and making them feel good, he will never, ever give more than his body to one.

And I mean never.

“We’ll do it in a bondage cabin,” Bridger says as if he’s planning the details to a party. “That way we can give her a taste of that if you think she can take it. You can blindfold her if you want, or if she gets off on having people watch her like you say, then invite some of our trusted circle. Hood her if you want to protect her identity. There are all kinds of things you can do to give her the dirty fantasy she wants and still protect her at the same time. But keep it small… the more people that see her, the more danger of it getting out that the governor’s daughter has some kink in her giddy-up.”

I chuckle at Bridger’s description of Callie. She has less kink in her than a straight arrow. She just thinks she wants it, but she truly doesn’t. I know Callie. She wants to try it, get a taste, and then it will be done. It will satisfy her need to show me she can walk in my world, and it will prevent me from killing a man for looking at her in that way.

Bridger exempted, of course, and honestly… the thought of Bridger with her… the things I know he’s oh so good at doing to a woman to make her scream sweetly… makes me hard right now just thinking about it.

“Alright,” I tell him as I push up off the couch, adjusting my hard-on to the left just a bit to avoid the bite of my zipper. “Let’s do it day after next. Invite a few people you trust.”

“You got it, Hoss,” Bridger says with a nod and then turns to his laptop to pull up the membership roster. He knows these people better than I do, and I know he’ll choose wisely. Still, I’m definitely hooding Callie so no one knows who she is. I can’t even begin to imagine the shit storm that would occur if word got out she was in a place like this.

Callie

The soft, leather hood that Woolf put over my head not five minutes ago is constricting, but not in a claustrophobic way. It’s almost as if it was custom made for my face, fitting snugly and with carefully constructed holes for my eyes and mouth. Even the portion over my nose seems to fit the straight angle well, and the holes for the nostrils allow for easy breathing. The last hole was a surprise and that was in the back near the top of my head. Woolf carefully gathered up my long hair in a ponytail and pulled it through the hole, where he then softly combed his fingers through it in a move meant to calm my frantically beating heart.

Woolf didn’t tell me much about what to expect tonight, and I think that was calculated on his part to stimulate my nerves. The only thing he would reveal was that it wasn’t going to take place at The Silo but at one of the private cabins. For a moment, I felt keen disappointment that I wouldn’t be getting the full experience I had been fantasizing about since my first trip into Woolf’s kinky world, but then he smirked at me, chucked me under the chin, and said, “Don’t worry, Callie. This will be like nothing you’ve ever experienced before.”

I’ll never tell Woolf but before he picked me up at my father’s house, I had taken two shots of bourbon to help steady my nerves. While on the one hand, I was very excited about what I was getting ready to experience with Woolf, I was also nervous—strike that, terrified—about having people watch us. I wanted it, but it made my stomach tighten with anxiety. I felt on edge, and I was afraid that at the first touch from Woolf that I would burst into a million fragments so miniscule that I would never be put back together again.

When we got to the cabin, no one was there. Woolf said he wanted to arrive earlier than the others to get me ready. Getting me ready included stripping me naked, giving me a quick but mind-blowing orgasm with his fingers that made my legs feel like jelly, and a white silk robe to put on before the hood.

We’re in a large bathroom… the woman’s bathroom to be exact, and as I look in the mirror, I think to my hooded self,
Hello New Callie Hayes. If only Will could see you now
.

I snicker over the thought and Woolf comes up to stand behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders. He towers over me so he’s easily able to hold my gaze in the mirror.

“Are you okay?” he asks me softly. It’s a sweet gesture, but I can see it deep in his eyes. He wants me to say “no” so he can whisk me out of here. While the last two days Woolf and I have been ravenous for each other and not holding back, he’s managed to end each encounter with a plea for me to change my mind about going through with this.

“I’m fine,” I tell him. “A little nervous about what to expect.”

I didn’t think he’d give me details, but I more than expected and was happy to receive a squeeze to my shoulders and an encouraging smile. “If you want to stop at any time, that’s all you have to say and I’ll get you right out of there, okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” I assure him, bringing my hands up to lay over the top of his. When our eyes meet and lock in the mirror, I say, “Thank you for doing this for me.”

He just nods and says, “Stay here a moment while I make sure everything is ready.”

An attack of rabid butterflies start zinging around in my stomach, but I give him my most confident smile. In just a few minutes, I’m getting ready to change my narrow little world forever.