Wicked Need (The Wicked Horse Series Book 3)

I ignore the requirements for the job as I’m more than qualified and decide to really address the elephant in the room. “I’ve been with both your men at The Silo. Why are you helping me? Why in the hell are you even here shaking my hand?”


My voice gets a little hysterical at the end, and Callie’s eyes soften. She ignores the fact I haven’t invited her in and takes two more steps toward me. Her hands come to my shoulders and she squeezes them. “Cat… I don’t know you, but Bridger and Woolf both assure me that you are a very nice person. Sloane and I know all about The Silo and what our men did there before we came along. And that’s where I want you to focus… you were with them before Sloane and I got involved, and we have no right to judge or be mad at something they did before we fell in love. So if we don’t have a problem with it, I don’t think you should.”

I blink at her stupidly because although her words make sense, I know just enough about women to know they are jealous creatures. I also know no women who would want to be friends or co-workers with someone who had very kinky sex with their significant other.

“She doesn’t believe you,” Sloane says as she leans a shoulder against the doorjamb. “Figures.”

“Well, we don’t have time to convince you. I’m starved. We promised Rand we’d take you to lunch and discuss the job, so let’s go,” Callie says in exasperation and takes my elbow.

I’m still sort of frozen from the shock of all this, but my feet willingly move when she pulls me toward the door.

“Rand did tell you we’d be by, right?”

I shake my head, no words coming out. As I grab my purse on the bench in the mudroom as an afterthought, Sloane mutters, “Typical man. Forgetting the important things. Don’t worry… we’ll have a great time at lunch. Margaritas at The Merry Piglet make everything better.”

Now that is something that’s finally clicking with me. I could use a margarita.

Or five.





“So then everything spills out of my purse,” Sloane says with a gasping laugh, “and a butt plug rolls out. Right to the foot of the waiter. He picks it up and just hands it to me with a red face. And Cain was dying laughing.”

Callie wheezes she’s laughing so hard, slapping at the table and nearly knocking over her third margarita. I look back and forth between these two women as I have been most of lunch… with my mouth hanging open.

Sloane looks up at me with tear-filled eyes and smirks. “Come on, Cat. That’s funny, right?”

“She’s still in shock,” Callie affirms with eyes just as wet from laughter.

“Maybe we broke her,” Sloane says thoughtfully, wiping a finger under her eye to push away the moisture. “Rand’s going to be pissed.”

I take another healthy slurp of my margarita, also my third, and mutter with a smile, “It’s funny.”

Then I take another slurp.

“So what’s your take on anal?” Sloane asks me, and I start choking. “Like or dislike? Callie still hasn’t worked up enough courage to take it all the way, but I love it with Cain.”

“I… I…” I stutter as both of them look at me with mischievous faces. Eyes shining and happy, and truly, truly not in the least offended by the presence of a woman such as me. I mean, they seriously look like they’re enjoying this company and discussion.

Almost like I’d imagine real girlfriends do.

Resolution strengthens my spine. I decide to accept the fact that they seem to like me and are not put out by my past relationships with their boyfriends. I decide to own it.

“Yeah… I like anal,” I say confidently with my chin tilted up. “If it’s done right. And let me tell you, Rand does it right.”

Callie puts her chin in the palm of her hand and gives a dreamy sigh. “Maybe one day.”

“Girl,” Sloane drawls in exaggerated fashion. “You and I can compare notes later when Saint Callie isn’t around.”

“Hey,” she exclaims, sitting up straight and glaring at Sloane. “I am not a saint. I’ll have you know I’ve done a three-way with Woolf and Bridger.”

My mouth falls back open again. I decide to fill it with more margarita.

“Please,” Sloane scoffs and waves a dismissive hand at her. “Who hasn’t had Bridger in a multiple before?”

My head snaps toward Sloane. I suck deeper on the straw until the last liquid is pulled up and the ice rattles in loneliness at the bottom of the glass.

“You’ve had Bridger before, right?” Sloane asks with a naughty sparkle in her eye.

“I would plead the fifth,” I say resolutely, “but I feel like you two would berate it out of me. So yes… I’ve had Bridger before.”

“He’s yummy,” Sloane says.

“Totally,” Callie agrees.

“And your dad’s the governor?” I ask with comedic suspicion and a cocked eyebrow at her. “Because it’s just so hard to believe with some of the things coming out of your mouth.”

“It’s true,” she says solemnly, holding up her hand and placing the other over her heart. “Swear it.”