“I’ll pay you twenty dollars an hour, thirty hours a week,” he says bluntly. “Oh, and buy a coffee pot for the office when you come in tomorrow.”
And just like that… I had a job.
Working for Woolf Jennings.
Life is good.
Chapter 5
Woolf
Two things assault me when I open my main office door at the Double J.
They happen almost simultaneously, yet one is just a few seconds before the other.
The deliciously deep and rich scent of dark roast coffee brewing.
Next, Colton Stokes sitting on the edge of Callie’s desk, one long leg planted firmly on the floor, the other resting perilously close to her arm.
He’s gazing down at her in what I know is barely disguised lust, and they’re both laughing at something. I shut the door hard and Callie jumps in her seat, turning her head my way. She gives me a cheeky grin and says, “Geez, Woolf… you about gave me a heart attack.”
I don’t smile back at her, and I’m an utter dick when I say, “Not surprised. What with your attentions focused elsewhere.”
I say this with a great deal of employer censure, and her face flushes. “Sorry. Colton was just telling me a joke. He’s here for your ten AM meeting.”
Nodding curtly at her, I walk over to the coffee pot and pour myself a cup. I silently will myself to get under control, but fuck… that just started my morning off shitty watching them laugh together. Colton wants in her pants, no doubt about that. Not sure what Callie wants, but I seem to remember they dated in high school. I know he doesn’t know her as carnally as I do, but doesn’t mean that he won’t in the future.
I risk a quick glance over at them. Colton has stood from her desk and stepped a few feet away.
But Callie?
Man… fucking more gorgeous today than she was yesterday. When she showed up for her first day of work just three days ago, she was wearing a pair of jeans, cowboy boots, and a white t-shirt that fit her nicely. She had on a heavy denim jacket as the mornings were still quite chilly and her hair was in a ponytail.
“Sorry about the attire,” she had said without real apology. “I don’t have much in the way of clothing here. I plan to try to get some shopping done this afternoon when I get off.”
I assured her that working on a cattle ranch, regardless of whether it was in the saddle or behind a desk, meant jeans were entirely appropriate.
And yet… the very next day, she showed up in a slim, black skirt that came to just above her knees and a silver-colored blouse that dipped low but didn’t reveal anything but shadow. The kicker was a pair of knee-high boots with heels that added a good four inches onto her height and because she’s tall, almost put her eye to eye with me. Her hair was stylishly sleek, she had on makeup, and her lips were glossy. She looked like a movie star, and I think my tongue was hanging out of my head all day.
She’s dressed to the nines again today in a form-fitting dress in a dark purple color, and those killer, sexy boots again. As she sits at her desk, I can see a flash of skin above her knees and when I glance back over at Colton, he notices that too.
Asshole.
“Let’s go, Stokes,” I say brusquely and nod my head toward my office.
Colton follows me in, and I shut the door behind us. By the time he takes a seat opposite my desk, I’m already regretting my tone with him. Colton is a long-standing friend. His family ranches cattle too, and he’s a decent guy. On top of that, I really have no business getting between him and Callie, so I try to lighten the mood for all our sake’s.
“Saw your dad in town the other day. He’s looking great,” I say genially. Clinton Stokes had quadruple bypass surgery at the young age of just fifty-two about six months ago. Colton has been pretty much running things since then.
Colton smiles and nods his head. “Yeah… he’s a tough old coot. Nothing will keep him down for long.”
I laugh and drum my fingers on my desk. “Remember that time he caught us reading his dirty magazines in the bathroom when we were kids? Scared the shit out of me when he chased us around, threatening us with his belt.”
With a bark of a laugh, Colton nods his head. “I was more afraid he’d tell my mom what we were doing.”
We both chuckle over the memory, and I’m satisfied Colton isn’t giving any thought to my dick attitude just a few minutes ago. I not only don’t want him thinking I have anything going on with Callie—which I do not—but I also do business with the man and I don’t need tensions there.
I segue into the real reason I asked Colton to come by. “We’re headed to auction in a few weeks, but I wanted to ask you about the results of your crossbreeding program.”
He blinks at me in surprise, because while the Stokes know their cattle, they aren’t on the same playing field as the Jennings. But he’s not giving himself enough credit because I’ve been hearing some good things about his new crossbreed of Red Angus and Hereford cows.
Colton gives me a smile and lapses into a long-winded soliloquy of the program. He’s only all too happy to share with me as we sell off our excess cattle to his ranch, and we also use their slaughterhouse from time to time for overflow, so he desperately wants to maintain good business relations with Double J. He tells me about the methods they use to breed and continues on to proudly talk about the beef falling well within Angus certification guidelines. He drones on, and while the information is interesting and completely useful to our operations, my mind drifts.
To Callie.
She’s been a damn godsend in just the few days she’s been working for me. She has me entirely organized and for the first time in well, forever, I don’t feel as if I’m always in a state of worry that I’ve forgotten to do something important. She’s working with Marta, my secretary at JennCo, and between the two of them, I feel like the weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
The downside to her working for me is her presence.
It’s maddening. Her scent, her beauty, her voice.
Nine times out of ten when I’m looking at her, she’d be surprised to know I’m imagining something filthy I want to do to her. Just yesterday, I imagined eating her out while she was splayed out naked on my desk, and only my phone ringing brought me out of that daydream. Which was, by far, one of my tamest.
Callie would never speak to me again if she ever found out what my dirtiest fantasy with her was. Hell, I feel compelled to slap myself on her behalf just for thinking it.
Give it up, dude. Not ever going to happen.
I force myself to listen to Colton and even write down some notes as he talks. After about half an hour, we make arrangements for me to come over and check out his stock. When we’re finished, I walk with him to my door but before we get there, he says, “You missed a crazy time at the opening of Bacchanalia the other night.”
Colton is grinning at me slyly.
And yes, Colton is a member of The Wicked Horse’s inner club. He pays a whopping fifty-thousand dollars for a platinum membership, which pretty much gives him access to everything. Twenty-four-seven access to all the buildings, unlimited food and liquor, and registration in our fantasy database that helps to facilitate hookups by matching people according to their level of kink and desires.
Bridger and I have had to carefully construct our sex club so we don’t run afoul of prostitution laws. We employed a team of lawyers to make sure we were legally in compliance of all criminal statutes, and Bridger vets our employees very carefully to make sure they stay in compliance too.
The law is really quite simple though and easy enough to skirt around.
Prostitution in Wyoming is when a person performs, permits, offers, or agrees to sex in return for money or property.