The McGilley Trilogy (45 page)

Donovan entered the stables later that morning, his head in the clouds as he wrestled with the urge to call Anna and invite her out today. As soon as he awoke this morning, he began second guessing his decision. He couldn’t afford to make any mistakes where she was concerned, so he wasn’t about to jump into a decision without carefully considering all the possible ramifications, no matter how much he was itching to call her just to hear her voice. Irritated with himself for both that sappy thought and his inability to simply go with his gut and his desire and pursue this relationship without thinking it to death, he headed towards Champion’s stall intent on clearing his head with a brisk ride. Seeing Ethan pacing nervously in front of Belle’s stall had him eyeing the fearful and guilty expression on the kid’s face suspiciously, and just that quickly he felt anger churning in his gut, somehow knowing what had him agitated.

“I need to talk to you,” Ethan stated, his voice tinged with a mixture of desperation and anger he couldn’t disguise even though he tried. Ever since Belle’s premature labor that had threatened both her and the foal’s life and his out of control anger that followed, he had wrestled with doing the right thing and coming clean with Donovan. He knew he could probably get away with everything, that there was a good chance none of them would find out it was him that had caused so much trouble for them, but meeting their mother had reminded him of his own mother and how disappointed she would be at his actions. She must have had her reasons for not telling him who his father was until she was dying and for not asking Casey McGilley for either monetary or moral support in raising him. They didn’t have much and his mother had worked hard to provide them with what they did have and she had always instilled in him the value of earning your way in life.

Since her untimely death, Ethan had been drowning in a sea of grief and rage, scared because he was now alone in the world, bereft because he missed his mother and angry because he had a father he never got a chance to know and brothers who seemed to have everything growing up, including the love of their father. Looking at the cold expression settle over Donovan’s face, he knew this wasn’t going to go as well as he had hoped, but he refused to be a coward any longer. Already regretting the loss of this job and praying he didn’t end up in jail, he blurted out, “It was me. I caused all the trouble around here.”

Donovan had suspected as much when he saw the way Ethan had been hanging around Belle and her foal, saw the guilt and simmering rage in his hazel eyes every time he happened to catch Ethan looking at him. Anger at his actions, the destruction and monetary hardships as well as the sense of betrayal rose to the surface with blinding speed. Turning from the kid he had a special fondness for, he struggled to get himself under control, clenching his hands so tightly he cut the circulation off.

“I’m sorry; I’ll work off the damages…” Ethan tried desperately to say but was viciously cut off by the sharp slice of Donovan’s hand in the air between them.

“Why? God damn it, you better have a fucking good reason for tossing everything I’ve done for you away.”

Ethan’s own anger surfaced and quickly overrode his remorse. “Everything you’ve done for me?” he sneered. “You’ve had it all your whole life while I’ve had nothing and I should be grateful for your handouts when I should’ve been a part of this,” his arm swept in an arc, indicating the stables, “my whole life.”

Donovan looked incredulously at Ethan as he tried to digest what he was saying while controlling his anger. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m you’re God damn brother, that’s what,” Ethan shouted. “Only I’m the one dear old dad apparently didn’t want.” He knew better, knew his mother had never told Casey about him, but he couldn’t help but be resentful that he hadn’t known, that he hadn’t cared enough about his mother to know he had a son with her.

“If that’s true, why didn’t you say so from the beginning, come to us openly instead of stabbing us in the back? You got proof?” Donovan asked, knowing it was entirely possible his father hadn’t stopped reproducing after he was born and as irresponsible as Casey had been, entirely possible he never knew about Ethan.

The rage left Ethan as quickly as it had risen. What difference did it make if he had proof? He’d blown his job and, from the closed unforgiving look on Donovan’s face, he could very well lose his freedom. Without answering him, he simply said resignedly, “I’ll pack my things and be out of here today.”

“The gate, were you responsible for that, for Belle getting out and getting hurt?” Of all the incidents, that was the one that had the anger churning the most and Donovan needed to know the truth.

“I didn’t open it, but I saw it was open and didn’t do anything.” And of everything he had done in childish retaliation against his brothers that was the one that he couldn’t forgive himself for.

Just then, the other three hands came in, laughing and cutting up as they often did, but all Donovan saw was the injury Belle had sustained when she had run out that gate and gotten clipped by a car and all he heard was her high pitched cries of pain and distress of her premature labor brought on by the stress of the previous weeks since her accident. “Out,” he ordered all of them without an explanation. “Take the day off. I don’t want anyone around here until tomorrow.” He watched them go, the rage simmering in him too volatile to risk being around anyone right now. He’d deal with Ethan and his surprise announcement later, right now he couldn’t risk being around anyone.

Donovan stormed back to the tack room, stripped off his shirt and grabbed his gloves, the need to vent and take his anger out by pummeling his punching bag overriding everything else. He didn’t know what made him angrier, the possibility he had a brother he had never known about, Casey’s irresponsibility or the betrayal he felt at Ethan’s admission. Donovan didn’t get close to people other than his brothers. He had friends, mostly at the club, but he didn’t see them regularly and didn’t socialize with them. He had always liked the college kids he hired, but always kept an employer/employee relationship with them. From the first time he had met Ethan he had felt a connection to the more times than not surly kid. He saw his affinity with the horses, saw the way he worked hard and didn’t complain about the dirty jobs and recognized a kindred spirit in their love of running the farm.

Was that why he was so angry, why his betrayal sat so heavily in his gut and had him shaking with rage? He had never acknowledged his fondness for the kid before now, not even to himself, but as the incidents around them had escalated and his suspicions since Belle gave birth grew, he suspected that was why he hadn’t mentioned those suspicions to Colin and Brett. As he started pounding on the heavy leather bag, he relished the relief venting his anger physically gave him and was glad he was alone to exorcise his demons.

Anna pulled into the drive leading to the McGilley stables, her anticipation at seeing Donovan again taking precedence over everything else. Her sense of obligation backed by her ever present guilt had warred with her need to simply shuck both emotions and indulge herself with being with Donovan again. Her need to feel him taking her again, taking her with no holds barred vigor to heights of pleasure that obliterated everything except the pleasure won out over her nagging sense that this was wrong, that she shouldn’t put being with Donovan before Todd. But need won out over duty and here she was and she refused to let anything mar this beautiful afternoon and the anticipation she felt as she entered the barn.

She recognized the sound of his fists connecting with his punching bag and followed it to the tack room, surprised she didn’t see anyone else around. The sight that greeted her at the door held her immobile for a brief moment of surprise. Shirtless, his back to her, Donovan was going at the hanging punch bag with a viciousness that would have startled her if she wasn’t trying to cope with the sight of the myriad of scars crisscrossing his sweat glistening back. All of a sudden his empathy for her in the beginning made more sense and she felt herself tearing up as she absorbed the suffering he must have endured. She knew he had been in the military, but she had wanted to learn about him slowly, grow to know the man from being around him rather than from reading other people’s accounts of his life. She now understood why he had never stripped completely while with her.

She would have gone to him and wrapped her arms around him if it wasn’t for the aggression with which he was beating that bag. Something had him riled, and while she didn’t fear him or his anger, she did fear losing the tenuous hold she had on this complicated man. Watching him silently, she was taken off guard when he stopped suddenly, whirled to face her and glared angrily at her.

“What are you doing here, Anna?” Donovan had been so immersed in releasing his anger, the physical workout helping to calm his turmoil that he hadn’t sensed anyone was here until just a moment ago. The tears threatening to fall from her eyes told him she hadn’t known about his own abusive past, and it didn’t sit well with him that she saw the proof of it now. There were reasons he kept his shirt on when he was with a woman, not the least of which was he didn’t want to be pitied.

Ignoring his question, she stated, “I’m not the only one who’s been reticent about my past.”

There was no pity on her face, just empathy and curiosity, a curiosity he suspected was more for why he hadn’t told her than for the gory details. He felt his cock harden at her calm acceptance, the sudden need to claim and possess her shocking with its intensity. With rage still simmering through him, however, he didn’t feel like making explanations or small talk. He needed her gone, and he needed her gone now.

“You need to leave, Anna. I’ll talk to you later.”

Anna didn’t want to leave, she wanted him, wanted to feel those huge arms holding her as he fucked her again, fucked her with all the pent up frustration and need she saw simmering in his eyes. For the first time since meeting him, she felt he needed her instead of the other way around, and she wasn’t about to turn her back on him. His body was covered in a sheen of perspiration, his chest was thickly muscled, the light sprinkling of brown hair glistening damply and she suddenly wanted to feel all that damp, hard male flesh against her, feel his cock invading her pussy with deep, hard strokes that promised to take her to a place where she could forget about the man lying comatose waiting for her and give pleasure to the man in front of her who needed her as much as she needed him at this moment.

“I don’t want to leave,” she answered him, her voice breathless as she felt her nipples pucker and her pussy flood with liquid heat in preparation for him. Looking him square in the eye, she started to unbutton her shirt as she continued boldly, “I want you.”

Cursing, Donovan had to force himself to remain rooted three feet from her and what she thought she wanted. With his anger still too close to the surface, his lust riding high and his emotions completely out of whack over Ethan’s disclosures and now Anna’s knowledge of his torture, there was no way he could risk giving her what she wanted, what her body was obviously craving as much as his was. The need to fuck always rode him hard when his temper was so volatile, but he had never acted on that need, and sure as hell wasn’t going to risk a relationship he was just now admitting he wanted.

“No.” He knew he should elaborate, should give her a reason he was turning her down, but that one word seemed to be all he was capable of right now, especially as the sight of her bare breasts spilling free as she unclasped the front of her bra had his cock hardening to full erection.

“Why? You want me, and you need me. Why not take what I’m offering?” Anna didn’t know what was driving her more, the sixth sense that was telling her she shouldn’t be here, that she should be with her husband, not anticipating being fucked in a barn by a man who wasn’t keen on the idea, or the feeling she got that Donovan needed her more right now than Todd ever would. Desperation made her add softly, “Please, Donovan, don’t shut me out.” She didn’t think she could take it if he shut her out right now. Running one finger over her right nipple in a light, tantalizing caress, she prayed she was doing the right thing.

Swearing, Donovan strode to her, backing her until her breasts bounced with the jarring impact of coming up against the unyielding wall, caging her between his arms braced on either side of her. “Damn you,” he grated harshly as he felt himself giving in, felt himself succumbing to the urge to take her just like she was asking for, God help them both. Swooping down, he kissed her ruthlessly, grinding his mouth on hers, invading her mouth with ruthless intent, giving her an idea of what it would be like if he took her now.

Anna vaguely heard a ringing in her ears as she kissed him back, recognized the sound as her phone, then simply ignored it as she moaned into his mouth and her hands came up to clutch at his shoulders.

Releasing her mouth, Donovan tried to ignore the pleasure just feeling her knead his shoulders gave him and instead tried again to dissuade her. “Is this what you want? Be damn sure, Anna, because once I’m inside you I’m not going to stop.”

“Yes, damn you, this is what I want,” Anna admitted as she struggled with the vulnerability that admission made her feel. There was an uncomfortable struggle going on inside her, a fight between what her guilty conscience told her was right and what her traitorous body told her she needed. Just looking at Donovan’s hard face, his eyes boring into hers with barely suppressed rage and an intensity that bordered on pain, his body as unyielding as his look, and she knew her body was going to win out over her mind. She knew she was past the point of no return when she found the sight of his damp armpit hair sexy.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he rasped as need and lust overrode common sense and he gave in to the inevitable. He couldn’t fight himself and her both and right now he didn’t even want to as he grabbed the zipper on her jeans and jerked it down.

Anna quickly toed off her right shoe and wiggled her leg out of her jeans as he released his engorged cock, the plum shaped head looking as red and angry as Donovan. Not giving her time to undress any further, he simply grabbed her buttocks, lifted her and impaled himself on her, driving into her slick sheath in one hard thrust that had her gasping at the shear rightness of being fucked by him.