He points at me. “Keep your ass down, and I won’t have to pull out the ropes. If I have to pull out the ropes, I’ll pull out my flogger too and give your ass a workout. Now, you promised my boy here fifteen minutes and you’re going to give it to him, or I’m going to blister your skin until you’re begging for mercy. Are we clear?”
God help me, but that scares the shit out of me and turns me on at the same time. I’m afraid my voice won’t work so I just give him a nod of my head, and then turn to glare at Woolf.
He’s standing there with arms crossed over his chest, looking at me in contemplation. He even raises one hand and rubs thoughtfully at his chin. He doesn’t approach me though, and I think that’s a good idea. His nuts will thank me later.
“Are you through with your temper tantrum?” he asks me quietly.
I grunt at him in response and cross my own arms over my chest in an act of defiance, and a metaphorical pose of defensiveness. Bridger casually leans up against the wall, tucking his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans and watches this all play out with that same amused look on his face. But I see something else in his eyes… I think he wants me to flip out again so he can get his ropes.
I suppress the shudder that wants to break free.
Woolf drops his arms and walks up to me. He squats down, about an arm’s length away from me, but it brings his gaze more in line with mine. He comes down to my level, and I think he’s treating me like a wounded animal.
I bare my teeth at him.
Bridger chuckles.
Asshole.
“Callie,” Woolf says softly, and my eyes cut to him. I brace myself, because his voice sounds just too damn good. “Why did you just run away?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say with a calm voice and a tilt upward of my chin. “We’re over and I’m here to listen to you. Just forget all about how you got me in this office, and just lay it on me so I can get going.”
Woolf’s hand shoots out so fast, I can’t even react. He grabs my jaw and stands up, effectively pulling me up from the couch. He’s not hurting me, but he’s holding me the way a mama tiger would grip her cub in her jaws to get respect.
He steps in close and leans down until his lips are just a breath away from mine. My heart rate soars and my mistake is in taking a deep breath and smelling all the yummy goodness that is Woolf Jennings. I start to melt into him and my eyes flutter closed.
“Why did you run away from me?” he asks again with a hard edge to his voice.
“Because you were standing with your arm around another woman,” I grit out. “Didn’t look like our talk was really needed.”
His blue eyes seem to dig in deep to mine. I feel like he’s able to see inside and garner all my secrets from the intensity of his stare. He seems to be… searching for something.
“Why would that bother you?” he asks softly. “You’ve been telling me repeatedly that we’re through.”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
And I really don’t. I have no explanation for the pain that lanced through me when I saw Woolf with his arm around that blonde. I thought I had my feelings somewhat contained where he was concerned, but apparently not.
Woolf releases me abruptly, and I swivel my jaw tentatively. Feels fine.
He turns and walks over to the desk, picking up a folder. He holds it out to me and I take it, completely confused. As he sits back against his desk, arms crossed over his chest again, he gives a nod at it. “That woman I had my arm around is a very good friend of mine. We went to college together.”
My eyes narrow at him, and he doesn’t even look abashed when he says, “Yes, I fucked her back then, but only in college.”
He nods again toward the folder in my hand. “Jenna is also my attorney. She prepared that for me and delivered it just a little bit ago.”
Attorney?
“I don’t understand,” I mumble as I look from the folder back to Woolf.
He doesn’t enlighten me, but rather nods again toward the folder, encouraging me to open it up. His body is tense and his eyes are pinned on me, searching every line and angle of my face for a reaction. He’s watching me very carefully to see how I’ll react to what’s in my hand. I’m dreading what I’ll find in there, but my curiosity is too overwhelming.
My hand is slightly shaking with anxiety as I open the folder and stare down at a document that can’t be more than ten pages long. At the top, in all caps and centered: Business Purchase Agreement.
I look back up to Woolf, who seems poised to either pounce on me or walk out the door, I’m not sure which, but I think it hinges on my reaction to what I’m holding.
I read on, certain words jumping out at me from the haze of legalese.
Seller — Woolf Jennings…
Buyer — Bridger Payne…
The Wicked Horse and all its entities…
For the sum of $1.00…
My head snaps up and Woolf leans forward a bit, looking at me hungrily.
“You’re selling The Wicked Horse to Bridger?” I ask stupefied.
“Sold,” he clarifies. “All the documents have been signed already. Bridger already owned fifty percent of it. I just sold my entire portion to him.”
“For one dollar?” I ask, still thinking there’s some sort of joke here.
Woolf just shrugs noncommittally, apparently not wanting to hash business details with me.
“I don’t understand,” I mumble again… for the second time, and I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be smarter than this but it makes no sense to me. “This is your dream. What makes you happy. Why would you ever let it go?”
Woolf doesn’t answer me but instead turns to Bridger. “Mind giving us some privacy?”
Bridger pushes away from the wall and gives a fist bump to Woolf. He gives me a pointed look before walking out the door, and I think it was a warning of some type… maybe not to hurt his buddy?
“This was my dream,” Woolf says matter-of-factly as he pushes away from the desk and walks up to me. “It’s what made me happy. But you want to know why I’m letting it go?”
I nod… words stuck deep in my throat.
His hand reaches out and tucks a lock of hair behind me ear. His eyes roam over my face and he has a wistful smile on his face. “I’m letting it go because you’re my dream now and you’re what makes me happy. And I can’t have The Wicked Horse and you, so I have to let one go, and here’s what I know for fucking sure… I can’t do without you. It was sort of a no brainer for me.”
“Whoa,” is all I can say as I sink back down onto the couch, my legs feeling like jelly. I look down at the agreement one more time before closing the folder and setting it down beside me. When I look back up to Woolf, I say, “I know this is the point in the conversation where I’m supposed to be all altruistic and insist you not give up your dream for me, but fuck if I’m going to do that.”
Woolf just blinks at me for a moment, then he throws his head back and laughs. When he looks back down at me, his eyes are shining with relief and happiness. That lasts just a moment before the smile morphs into something that borders on hunger.
He leans over me and my heart starts thumping again. In one fluid movement, he places a knee on the couch and pushes me back with a hand on the center of my chest so I lay backward. I flip my legs up onto the leather and he settles on top of me, holding his weight on his elbows.
We just stare at each other a moment, taking in all the ramifications of what this means to us.
I don’t think either of us are at a loss for words, but perhaps Woolf may be a bit reserved in his emotions at this point, so I decide to lead the way. I touch his lips with my fingertips, and then slide them along his stubbled jaw. “I’ve loved you for a very long time. Ever since I was old enough to see you as a man. It was a different type of love back then… young and foolish, but I loved you then. Always… to some extent since. And I love you now in a deeper way, and I don’t even have words to tell you what this means to me.”