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

  He blinks at me in surprise. "You're saying Magnus killed him?"

  I laugh darkly and try to keep the venom in my voice to a minimum. "Magnus doesn't have the balls to do his own dirty work, but yes... I'm saying Magnus ordered it. He has plenty of muscle who will gladly carry out those orders."

  "And you think he'd kill your dad?" he asks, understanding my need to see this con through to the end in one bright, clarifying moment.

  "I do," I whisper. "I think he'd do it. Oddly, I think he'd hate it, but he'd do it. At least, that was his very clear threat to me if I don't hold up my end of the bargain."

  Logan's silent for a moment, trying to digest what I've told him, but it's really pretty simple in my opinion. My father's life is at stake, and I'm willing to perpetuate a pretty big fraud to ensure he remains safe.

  "It's the only reason I'd ever get on my knees and suck a stranger off, Logan," I say apologetically, because while I know I'm a rotten person for doing this, I don't want him to be disappointed in my choices. His eyes jerk to mine, and I hate that they're holding pain for me. "I'm not that type of girl. I might have done a hell of a lot of cheating and lying in my life, but I've never peddled my body like that. I hope you believe me."

  He doesn't speak but rather reacts. His arms shoot out and wrap around me, pulling me in close to him. My face settles in the crook of his neck, and one of his large hands comes to the back of my head to hold me there. "Hey... don't even go there. I know exactly what type of girl you are, and you're a survivor. Nothing more."

  "I'm sorry I lied to you," I mumble against him, my lips gliding over his skin. "I never wanted to do that."

  "I get it," he reassures me, and sadly, I know one reason he gets it is because he's hidden things from me. But that's a discussion for another time.

  We lay silent for a few moments, but then he asks, "How exactly were you going to get past the fact you are, in fact, not a virgin?"

  "Simple," I say softly. "Magnus has fake medical records proclaiming my hymen's intact, and I'm merely going to drug the mark before we can get to the sex part. By the time he wakes up, Magnus and I will be long gone from Wyoming."

  "Someone losing that type of money will come after you both," he points out darkly.

  Pulling back so he can see my face, I give him censuring look and ask, "You really think his name is Magnus Albright? He'll never be found because he's a shadow and he goes by many names."

  "Jesus fuck," he grumbles as he pushes himself up and pull his arms away from me. Logan holds himself up on one elbow and looks down at me, his other hand coming up to push some hair off my face. "I don't even fucking know your last name. I've fucked the shit out of you, going to do that again and again, and I don't know your last name."

  Sadness fills me up, and I shrug. "You don't know any of the last names of the women you fuck from The Silo, I'm guessing."

  He winces and I know that cut deep.

  Bending down, he drags his lips across mine and cups his palm to my face. "Yeah, but the difference is I want to know yours. Want to know every damn thing about you, and even things you don't know about yourself."

  I blink at him, astonished by the fervor in his tone, yet still on guard as he's asking something that a good con artist never gives up.

  "What's your last name, baby?" he pushes at me, and I have no control over my reaction. I've got years and years ingrained in me to hold myself aloof from personal attachments, and I know my eyes go a bit frosty.

  "It's never a good idea for someone like me to give my full name," I say coolly.

  He jerks in surprise over my refusal, and then narrows his eyes at me. "You still have my cum puddled warm inside of you, but you don't trust me enough to tell me your last name?"

  I hold silent.

  And then he understands why, commanding me. "You are not going through with this con."

  "I have to," I say with a sigh of regret. "My dad's life is at stake."

  "We'll find another way to get you both out of this," he responds resolutely as he leans back over me, putting his hand down on the mattress beside my ribs so I'm caged in.

  He's displaying his dominance over me, in a classic alpha move to get me to come to heel.

  "You are absolutely not going back into The Silo to suck cock unless it's my cock," he adds on with a grunt.

  Caveman.

  "There is no other way," I say in exasperation. "My dad can't just walk away. He knows no other type of life. No other way to support himself. This is it for him. He's stuck in that world. He's stuck working for Magnus. If I want my dad to live, I have to pull this off and ensure Magnus gets his money."

  I'm not prepared for what he says next. "I'll put in the winning bid."

  And I can read the look on his face clearly, and it makes me wince. Why not? Wouldn't be the first time I'd bought pussy.

  "Are you fucking out of your mind?" I snap at him, putting my hands to his chest to try to push him away from me. "You couldn't possibly have that type of money."

  He gives me a condescending laugh. "What are you going to fetch? A hundred thousand? Five hundred thousand?"

  I roll my eyes at him, but remind him resolutely. "It's more than a fly fisherman can afford."

  He doesn't debate this with me, but instead says with utter confidence, "I'll figure something out, but you are not going through with this."

  "Yes. I. Am," I punctuate through gritted teeth. "My father is all I have in this world, and there's not a damn thing you can do to stop me from doing what's necessary to make sure I don't lose him. You have no idea the type of man Magnus is, and--"

  Logan moves so suddenly, I can't do anything but suck in my breath in shock.

  Throwing his leg over me, he moves to straddle my chest but holds his weight off me. His legs have me pinned at my upper arms. He puts his palms on the pillow beside my head before hunching over and putting that beautiful face all up in my space.

  "Tired of listening to you tell me we can't fix this another way," he growls at me. "Tired of you thinking you're going to go back in that Silo and let another man touch you."

  "Get off--"

  "Tired of listening to you period," he says with a grin. He flexes his hips so that his dick, which is now brutally hard, brushes against my lips.

  My eyes flare wide with surprise, but I restrain myself from opening my mouth to take him in. It's what I really want to do, but, instead, I give him a loathsome glare that doesn't come close to hitting the mark because he laughs at me.

  "Open up, Auralie," he whispers with a grin, pushing the tip of his cock against my closed lips. "Let me fill that pretty mouth up."

  Lust sizzles in Logan's eyes and I feel myself falling prey to it, but I refuse to give in. Besides, something about arguing with him and the hard fucking that occurs because of it is too good to pass up. So I remain stubborn. "This doesn't change--"

  The minute my mouth opens, he pushes forward and fills my mouth with his cock, stopping before he butts against the back of my throat. I suck against him reactively, and he groans his approval. My mouth is stretched wide and I'm rendered speechless--which I think he likes very much at this moment--and God help me, but that excites the hell out of me.

  I can't talk, but I let him know what I'm thinking in this very moment. My eyes level warmly on his. I'm going to let you fuck my mouth, Logan, but this conversation isn't over by a long shot.

  He grins at me. Rising up on his knees a bit for better leverage, he begins a slow pumping in and out of my mouth. Once he rises, I note my hands are free so I bring them up and sink my nails into his ass--hard.

  "Fuck that hurts," he complains, but he doesn't miss a stroke. And then he smiles down at me almost evilly. "But that's okay... I'm only going to fuck your mouth for a few minutes... just enough to get your jaw sore. Then I'm going to flip you over and tan your backside for even doubting that I can get us out of this mess."

  I moan against his cock, not knowing if it's because I'm turned on by what he jus
t said or that he cares enough about me to help me through this.

  Chapter 17

  Logan

  I'm in the viewing room again, my eyes already adjusted to the bright light. Doctors are shoulder to shoulder as they hunch over the operating table. My body leans left, and then right... just can't fucking see. I know I should know who's on that table, but it's just escaping me.

  I look to my right, immediately frustrated the faces are blurred and unrecognizable. I turn to my left, expecting the same, but instead, I meet a pair of crystal-blue eyes smiling at me sadly.

  Auralie.

  I stare at her, confused as to why she's here. How in the hell did she even get admitted? I look over her shoulder at the long row of people sitting to her left, but they're all blurred as well. I can tell, however, that they're all facing forward and watching the procedure down below.

  With great effort, and because I'm afraid I'll miss something important, I tear my eyes away from Auralie and look through the glass to the doctors below.

  The whoosh of the respirator is expected, as is the beeping from the EKG monitor. I still can't see a fucking thing though as to what they're doing, but a few words filter up through the speakers mounted in the corners of the viewing room.

  "... I can't locate the bleeder. Can I get some more suction?"

  "...BP's fifty over forty... heartrate 120... she's in hemorrhagic shock..."

  Icy prickles cause my hair to stand up, and my heart starts beating rapidly. My ears strain to hear more because I still can't see shit below.

  "...hang another unit of O-Neg."

  "...she's had three already..."

  "...can I get some fucking suction here..."

  The doctors move only nominally, still huddled over the table. For as dire as the situation seems, no one seems to be doing much to the patient before them. It's driving me nuts I can't get a glimpse... then maybe I could....

  What?

  In desperation, I turn to my left. Auralie is still looking at me sadly.

  "Can you see anything from where you're sitting?" I ask her desperately.

  She gives a slow shake of her head, and I curse at the fates.

  I start to turn back. Perhaps I'll get out of my chair and beat on the glass... tell those motherfuckers to move...

  A warm hand presses down on my thigh, and I feel Auralie's delicate fingers press into the muscle there. I turn back to look at her, and she leans in to whisper, "You should fuck me, Logan."

  "Excuse me?" I ask, my head turning so I can get a quick glance back to the operating table. Still completely obscured. I look back to her. "What did you say?"

  Her hand slides up my leg, and it feels hot. I mean, really hot, as if it's lighting the skin under my pants on fire. I want to turn to look back at the procedure below because I'm afraid I'll miss something, yet I can't seem to tear my eyes away from her hand that's creeping steadily up my leg.

  "Logan," she murmurs, and I slide my eyes up to meet hers. She gives me an encouraging look. "You really should fuck me."

  Before I can even answer, and before I can take another quick peek into the surgical room, her small hand covers my crotch and she squeezes what I'm surprised to find out is a hard-on I'm sporting.

  Talk about inappropriate.

  My hand comes up to cover hers with the intent to remove it, as I have far more important things to do right now. But the minute my palm touches the back of her hand, I find myself pressing her hand down on me harder and forcing her fingers to curl around the outline of my erection.

  I groan and lift my hips up, because fuck... that feels so damn good.

  I should probably undo my belt... get my zipper down.

  "...we're losing her..." I hear someone yell, and my head snaps toward the glass.

  "Logan... I need you inside me," Auralie murmurs, squeezing my cock. I use my hand to make hers start to jack me through my jeans, even as my eyes remain pinned helplessly on the doctors below.

  "...blood pressure's falling..."

  "I want you deep inside me, Logan."

  "...she's gone into cardiac arrest..."

  "Baby... I can make this all go away if you just fuck me..."

  A long, slow beep from the EKG monitor.

  "No," I cry out to the doctors below.

  "Logan," I hear as someone shakes my shoulder hard. "Come on, honey. Wake up for me."

  My eyes snap open, and I immediately recognize the interior of my trailer.

  I know I'm on my bed.

  I also know that is Auralie's soft body sitting in the bed next to me with her hand on my shoulder.

  I'm covered in a thin sheen of sweat. My heart is pounding pretty hard, and I'm keenly aware I have a raging hard-on.

  "Are you okay?" Auralie asks in a tremulous voice. "I think you were having a nightmare."

  I turn my head, but I can't make out her facial features in the gloom. I can tell by the tone of her voice she's wigged out.

  For fuck's sake... I'm wigged out too, because that was the same old dream that was seemingly mixed with something else. It's still with me, causing pulsing images of the viewing room, the operating table, the hunched-over doctors to all flash before me.

  Gritting my teeth, I grab Auralie's hand and put it to my cock. I make her curl her fingers around and stroke it a few times, then remove my hand and let her take over. She does so without question and I give a relieved groan, my mind instantly focusing only on the pleasure she gives me.

  "Were you having a nightmare?" she presses me tentatively as my cock fucks her hand and my hips start thrusting into her grasp.

  I don't answer but instead roll over her, forcing her to lie back on the bed. She loses her grip on me, and I immediately see the operating room again in my head. My hand reaches out blindly to the window ledge above my bed, desperately seeking the bottle of lube I keep up there. I knock over my alarm clock, fumble over my phone, and finally latch onto it.

  The doctor on the end... he starts to turn to let me see the table.

  Coming up on my knees in between her legs, I flip the cap and pour a hefty amount into my palm before using my thumb to latch it shut. The bottle falls forgotten. My lubed palm goes to my dick where I coat it thoroughly.

  "Logan?" Auralie whispers in confusion.

  A small body on the table... covered in a sheet.

  I fall onto Auralie, her legs spreading for me automatically, and I shove my cock into her with a grunt.

  She gasps, her entire body stiffening from my invasion, but I'm immediately filled with a warm peace. Her pussy is gripping my dick in such a way that everything else just becomes moot as I start fucking her.

  Leaning my head down, I kiss her softly as my hips pump away the misery before whispering to her, "Sorry, baby. Just needed you badly."

  She answers me with a moan and her hands to my ass, urging me to go deeper. I fuck her so thoroughly that we both come quickly. As I orgasm, I can barely remember my own name much less a stupid dream.

  Yeah... that's the stuff that nightmare demolition is made of.

  *

  I crashed hard after I fucked Auralie post nightmare. Banished those god-awful memories good because the only dreams I had after that were of fucking Auralie again, which ensured I woke up with a hard-on and feeling horny but oddly refreshed. Downside was that I didn't have time to act on my instincts to have her again, but instead, slipped out of bed and quietly put my clothes on. It was barely six AM, but I always wake up early because that's normally when my workday starts out on the river.

  After leaving a note for Auralie on the mattress beside her, I crept out of the trailer and got in my truck.

  The minute I hit Highway 191, I dial Bridger, wincing slightly when it's clear I woke him up and also clear he's not happy about it.

  "This better be good," he growls into the phone, his voice clogged with sleep and irritation.

  "It's Logan," I told him succinctly, and so he would understand the urgency I boil the circumstances down t
o the most dramatic facts. "I've got to talk to you now about Magnus. He's a con artist, and Auralie is being blackmailed."

  "What the fuck?" Bridger grumbles but his voice is clearer. "Where are you?"

  "On my way to see you," I tell him. "Can we meet at your office?"

  "Come to my house," he says.

  I blink in surprise, but I don't question. I've never been invited there before. No one I know from The Silo has, except Woolf, but he warrants the exception since he's Bridger's best friend. "Know where it is?"

  "No clue," I admit.

  He gives me directions. I'm not surprised to find his house sits on Double J property, which is owned by Woolf. I have no clue exactly how big the Double J is, but I know the parent company, JennCo, has over three hundred thousand acres spread over three states. The Double J is first and foremost a cattle ranch--largest in the nation--but it also surreptitiously leases a small tract of land to Bridger upon which The Wicked Horse and The Silo sit. But interestingly, his house sits about as far from the Wicked Horse and The Silo as possible, actually putting it closer to the city limits of Jackson. Rather than taking me almost forty-five minutes to make the trip, it will only take me about fifteen.

  Bridger meets me at the door wearing a pair of loose, black track pants and a white t-shirt. His hair is sticking up all over the place, and he has a cup of coffee in hand. As he closes the door behind me, he walks into the kitchen and I follow.

  Bridger's house is really nice and that surprises me. Not that he can't afford "really nice," but it's just that outside of his red Corvette, Bridger never really seems to be moved by money. I know he makes a shit-pot full between the bar and sex club, but he never flaunts it. He doesn't wear super expensive clothes, preferring jeans and cowboy boots, and he never takes vacations.

  While his house is nice, it's not ostentatious like Woolf's. I'm guessing about three-thousand square feet, built in the classic western cabin theme with pine logs and large, rectangular windows that look out over the Teton Mountains. The mountain range is so large and sweeping, there are not many places on the Double J where you can't see the beauty of it.

  The kitchen is state of the art with granite counters, custom cabinetry, and high-end appliances. Bridger silently pours me a cup of coffee from one side of a kitchen island, pushing it across to me with a nod toward one of the high-backed stools done in wrought iron and reclaimed wood.