The McGilley Trilogy (33 page)

As natural as if she indulged in touching herself sexually on a regular basis, her hands glided down her neck, over her breasts to cup their weight in her palms. She hadn’t wanted sex for two years, hadn’t needed it to find pleasure in the life she had carved out for herself, and had been content to remain celibate. Closing her eyes, she imagined it was Donovan’s calloused palms kneading her pliant flesh, his thick fingers pulling on her turgid nipples, his face looking at her with unbridled lust, and knew she was no longer content to sit idly back while life passed her by. Leaning against the tiled wall, the small enclosure swirling with warm steam, she played with her nipples, enjoying the pleasant sensation, the spasm of pleasure that shot from her tips to her pussy as she pulled and twisted them just to the point of discomfort.

She cursed softly as tears welled, tears of frustration and time lost as she realized she was twenty-nine years old and she had, as yet, to experience the pleasure of enjoying an active, exciting, orgasmic sex life. Sex with Todd had been okay, nothing spectacular, pleasant but she certainly never moved mountains or even cried out with her climaxes. The thing she missed most was the feel of a hard body against hers, over her, the intimacy of a hard cock filling her. Donovan’s body would not only fill her, he was so large he would literally surround her in a cocoon of hard, male flesh and she imagined he would take her so hard she wouldn’t have a problem working up a sweat under him, something she had never done with another man.

Moaning at the image, she released her right breast, spread her legs and cupped her aching pussy, the dampness she felt most definitely not from the shower.
When her body decided to wake up from its long sleep, it did so with a vengeance,
she thought as she slid a finger into her slit and felt her slick walls contract around it immediately. Her thumb barely rasped over her clit, barely put pressure on that aching, tender knot, and she was exploding in climax, a long drawn out orgasm that had her thrusting her hips against her plunging finger over and over while pinching her nipple past the point of discomfort to a nip of pain, a pain that had her pussy creaming even more, her pleasure rising to a height she had never achieved before. By the time she was reduced to small shudders and was reluctantly pulling from her still clutching sheath, she knew Donovan McGilley could very well be more dangerous to her peace of mind than memories of her husband were.

Coming out of the tack room, confident he had finally gotten his anger under control, Donovan saw Ethan standing at Belle’s stall, a brooding look on his face as he watched the mare and her new foal. Walking over to him, he asked casually, “What do you think of him?”

“I think you have another winner, but at what cost?” The sarcasm in his tone couldn’t be missed, but Ethan didn’t seem to care.

“I’m not the one who was careless and left the gate open so she could get out and get clipped.” Donovan visibly forced himself to reign in his temper. The kid had taken a shine to Belle and he was just concerned. At least, he hoped that’s all it was. “Dr. Kingston thinks she’ll be fine, Ethan, and we’ll keep a close eye on her.”

Ethan took a deep breath and sucked in his own temper before turning to face his boss. “About the doc, I’m sorry about walking in on her. You never close the door. Man…” Running a nervous hand down his face, he looked at Donovan out of tormented hazel eyes. “I’ve never seen scars like that. What do you think happened to her?”

Donovan had spent the past thirty minutes working off his anger and thoughts about Anna, and now he was being reminded about the evidence of abuse she had suffered and just that quickly he felt anger on her behalf building. “It’s none of our business,” he returned shortly, defusing any more talk on the subject. “You and Tony keep an eye on things while I get a little shut eye. Call me if you see any signs of trouble.”

His house was within walking distance of the stables and Donovan used that quarter mile walk in the brisk early morning air to try to rid himself of the memory of Anna Kingston, her expertise in delivering Belle’s foal, her pleasure at their success and the sight of that gangly colt struggling to rise, her signs of abuse and the fact she hadn’t seemed phased by him, his anger or his knowledge of her secret. He was used to women coming on to him, drawn to him because of the McGilley reputation and rumors about what went on the second floor of Casey’s. Without conceit, he knew his indifferent attitude and aloof demeanor was a challenge for some women, most of them thinking they’ll be the one to draw him out of his shell. They saw his scar as evidence of a violent past that fascinated them and either acknowledged it by staring or studiously avoiding it, but never before had a woman simply looked through him as if he was of no consequence to her. And it rankled him in an uncharacteristic way.

The woman was an enigma, he thought as he let himself inside his house and headed straight back to his bedroom, a puzzle he found he wanted to solve in the worst way. He stripped off his clothes and fell face first onto his bed, sunshine from the floor to ceiling windows warming his body as he tried to fall asleep with a hard on for an abused redhead with a pair of soft grey eyes and a wall around her that rivaled his own.

As exhausted as he was, sleep eluded him for the next hour as his mind struggled with images of Anna’s abuse, wondering if the relationship was severed completely or there was a chance she could become a victim again. There had been no signs of recent trauma, and she didn’t have the look of a frightened, cornered victim, but he couldn’t rely on those facts to ease his mind. As if the mental images weren’t bad enough, his fucking cock decided he should be the one to give her pleasure instead of pain, to replace those bad memories with awesome ones of her splintering apart in ecstasy under his ministrations.

Cursing, he tried to picture her naked, tried to imagine what her nipple looked like on the end of the soft, plump breast he had gotten a glimpse of. Would it be small or big, a dark berry color or a lighter shade of rosy pink that most redheads seemed to favor? Even wearing baggy jeans, he was able to depict a round, soft ass that he itched to explore. He wondered if she had soft red curls shielding even softer folds and if she had freckles anywhere else besides the small bridge of her nose.

On a groan, Donovan rolled to his back and wrapped his hand around his stiff cock. Even though he considered his sex drive normal for that of a thirty-eight year old man, he never had been one to be led around by his dick. When he wanted sex, there were always women available and willing, more so since his return from overseas as a wounded veteran. But war changed a man, and for him it was a change that was a constant struggle to cope with. He tried drinking to forget those six weeks of captivity and what they had driven him to do, but when that resulted in blackouts his brothers quickly intervened and helped him to get his act together. Taking over the farm when Jed had retired had been a lifesaver and he was able to put aside his resentment of being discharged from the Marines after ten years of loyal service as well as keep to himself when the need struck him.

But the lingering effects of his own abuse at the hands of the Iraqis continued to plague him at odd times, which was why he had gone over eighteen months without sex upon his return home and why he now limited his sexual encounters to the club and, more often than not, participated in a threesome rather than take a woman alone. When he wanted or needed sexual release, he went to the club and got it. The women were into submission and the different kinks he enjoyed and the openness of the activities ensured he wouldn’t hurt anyone if he happened to have a blackout.

It had been that simple and uncomplicated for five years now. That is until Dr. Anna Kingston walked into his stables last night. Even though his only blackouts were after drinking too much, the lingering fear of having another one was always lingering just under the surface.

Tightening his hand around his cock, he admitted he wanted her, wanted to not only fuck her but to give her as much pleasure as he was capable of. This was a problem because he sure as hell couldn’t introduce a woman with no prior experience or interest in his alternative lifestyle to sex at the club, and, since that was the only place he fucked, that left him with no options.

Determined to put her out of his mind, he stroked his cock with faster movements, coating his palm with his seeping fluid and spreading that moisture down his length to ease his way. The entire wall in front of him was windows that gave him a stunning view of acres of green expanse, small hills topped with both white and red oak trees as well as a few sugar maples and white ash. He had a good view of the pasture right outside the stables and loved to watch his girls prance around like barely contained dynamos, but it wasn’t the stunning vista or the sight of his loping mares that held his attention this morning.

Spreading his thighs, he cupped his sac with his other hand, rolling his balls as he tightened his fist further until they drew up tautly, his imagination replacing his hand with Anna’s mouth, replacing the feel of his calloused palm with the feel of soft, plump lips. Just that quickly, his vision blurred as he came, shooting his seed in a high arc as he now pictured Anna riding him, her lush body swaying above his for him to feast on, her soft pussy contracting around his girth instead of his hard fist. His climax had worked to enable him to let go enough to fall asleep, but it wasn’t enough to keep him from dreaming of her and ways to give her pleasure.

Donovan entered Casey’s that evening wondering why he was bothering to meet the guys for poker night when he was in such a foul mood. A scant two hours of sleep followed by spending the afternoon keeping a close, personal eye on Belle and her new baby while obsessing over a redhead who seemed to have gotten to him in a short time didn’t bode well for the evening activities.

Grabbing a Pepsi from behind the bar, he headed towards their table where his brothers and Mitch were already seated. He hadn’t seen them since last night, but he knew Brett had been to the stables that morning and assumed he had told Colin about Belle’s foal. It was rare for Colin not to take Sheba out on Sundays, but Donovan figured he had been holed up with Olivia since last night. By the contented look on Colin’s face, he guessed the two of them had finally worked out whatever had been keeping them apart.

“It’s about time,” Brett said as Donovan took a seat next to him. “That new foal’s a beauty, just like his momma.” Brett clapped him on the back in congratulations.

“Yeah, he is, but that’s the first and last time I’ll breed out of season. Belle’s going to be okay, but I think I’ll let Mother Nature decide when they’ll be born from now on.”

“What’s wrong, did the new vet read you the riot act?” Colin asked as he dealt the cards.

Donovan picked up his cards and sighed in resignation after looking at them. He knew he should’ve stayed home tonight. “No, she didn’t, not that I didn’t deserve it.” Hoping they’d let it drop, he asked for three new cards and checked his hand again.
Nope, not any better
, he thought sourly.

“From what Tony could get out of Ethan, she was a lot prettier than Doc Sevign and affected you enough to send you to the tack room for a round with your punching bag.” Brett and Colin never teased Donovan about unleashing his emotions on that large leather bag. Whatever worked for him was fine by them. But this was the first time that Brett could remember Donovan getting frustrated over a woman and it had him wondering what caused that frustration.

“Really,” Colin pitched in, looking at Donovan carefully. “How pretty?”

“I would think you two would have enough to handle with Kayla and Olivia. You two finally get your shit together?” Donovan asked Colin.

“Now what’d I miss?” Mitch complained as he tossed two chips into the pile, raising the three of them.

“Colin actually hooked up with Olivia, as in all the way at the club, took her home last night and all day today.” Brett smirked at Colin and saw Mitch’s raise.

“It’s about fucking time.” Mitch smiled at his friend, saying sincerely, “Seriously, are you two good?”

“Yeah, we’re good, even if it is still hard for me to believe.” Colin share the facts surrounding Doug’s death with Mitch, and the guilt he had harbored the past three years thinking he could have prevented it or at least saved him if he had reported to work that day as he was scheduled instead of calling in sick because of his feelings for Olivia, feelings that were reinforced after their ménage the night before.

Whistling softly, Mitch replied, “No wonder you were so screwed up. Thank God you’ve finally pulled your head out of your ass. I was about to make a play for her myself if you didn’t.”

Donovan listened to the three of them banter back and forth, glad the attention had switched to Colin. He didn’t want to think about Anna, the effect she had on him after their short acquaintance. He was confident that this urge to seek her out, to replace her memories of pain and fear with nothing but pleasure would pass shortly and he’d be able to move on without her grey eyes looking at him with such calm indifference and scarred body haunting him.

By Monday afternoon, Donovan knew it was hopeless. He obsessed about the damn woman all day, to the point he was taking out his irritability on the hired hands and had everyone looking at him warily and keeping their distance. It didn’t help that Belle was also irritable, her constant neighing to be let out to pasture getting on his nerves. Anna’s instructions had said she needed to be kept stalled this week to rest and heal from the difficult birth. The day was cool, the unusual warm weather they had been having gone, replaced with a typical sunny, but brisk day. All of the horses had been itching to be turned out this morning, and it didn’t help Belle’s disposition to be the only one not allowed to play. The good news was she was healing nicely and being an attentive mother, just like she had been with her two previous foals.

Donovan had also been itching to get out and by noon, he had saddled Champion and taken him for a run. But even after an hour of vigorous riding, he still found himself thinking constantly about Anna, worried that whoever had hurt her could still get to her even as he imagined what her ass would feel like under his hand, that soft flesh turning pink and warm as he showed her how she could get pleasure from pain. By the end of the afternoon, Donovan had come to two conclusions. One, he needed to go see Anna and see for himself that she wasn’t at risk of further abuse, and two, a sexual relationship between the two of them was out of the question.