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.
Chapter 16
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.