by B J Wane
Colin damn near saw black as she closed around him, damn near lost his balance as the pure pleasure of his climax started from his balls and ripped up through his cock to spew inside her in a volcanic flow of ecstasy. By the time he came to his senses, his body had automatically slowed down and was now caressing her slick sheath with mellow strokes until he could pull out of her completely.
As Donovan released her hands, Colin bent over her and said quietly, “I love you too,” before kissing her quickly and stepping back, not giving her a chance to reply. Tucking his cock away, he released her legs and helped her sit up. Taking her hand, he said, “Let’s talk.”
Part Three
Donovan & Anna
Chapter Nineteen
Donovan tucked his spent cock back in his jeans as he watched Colin lead a dazed and sated Olivia to a vacant armchair, appreciating the sight of her still red buttocks before Colin pulled her down onto his lap. When Colin wrapped his arms around her, a look of contentment on his face that he hadn’t seen in years, Donovan felt nothing but pleasure at seeing his brother finally happy. Leaving the bondage room, he went in search of Brett, but when he spotted his oldest brother cuddling Kayla on his lap, his look much the same as Colin’s, he suddenly felt a pang of envy and isolation. The three of them had always been close, and he owed both Brett and Colin more than familial gratitude for being there for him when he had returned home after being released from the hospital and the service. He owed them his life and his sanity. But with the addition of Kayla, and now Olivia, into their lives, he saw changes coming, changes that he would never be a part of.
Waving nonchalantly to Brett when he caught his attention, Donovan left the club and headed out to his truck, his need for his horses and his solitude taking precedence over everything else. His thoughts quickly turned to his mare, Belle, and worry for her agitated state took his mind off his brother’s good fortune and onto more pressing matters. Every once in a while, one of his horses slipped past his guard and, for inexplicable reasons, came to mean more to him than was wise. Champion, his prize stud of twelve years, named because of the foals he had sired that had grown to become champion show horses, was one of those horses, and now he was planning to keep Belle for himself despite the income he was giving up by retiring her from breeding. Even if he hadn’t decided months ago to make this her last pregnancy, the mare’s stress level since getting clipped by a car a few weeks ago was putting her health in jeopardy and that alone would have signaled the end to her breeding. His girl’s health came first, their money making offspring second.
Everything was quiet as he pulled into the stable yard, but as he got out of his truck and headed inside, he could hear a high pitched, stressful neigh coming from inside. Hurrying to Belle’s stall, he saw her pacing in circles, her sleek brown coat glistening with sweat, her tail raised high indicating she was in labor almost six weeks early. Stepping into the stall as he reached into his pocket for his phone, he talked soothingly to the agitated mare while waiting for the after-hours veterinary service to pick up.
“Easy girl,” he soothed as he stroked her soft nose. “This is Donovan McGilley. I need a vet at McGilley Farms a.s.a.p. I’ve got a mare in premature labor, and the way she’s acting, I think something’s wrong. Thank you.” Snapping the phone shut, he breathed a sigh of relief that a vet would be here as soon as possible. With all his experience in assisting with the birthing process when needed, he never attempted a difficult, potential life threatening birth without professional help.
Twenty minutes later, he heard a vehicle pull up and assumed it was Dr. Kingston, the vet filling in for Dr. Sevign. Relieved, he stepped out of Belle’s stall and was surprised to see a short curly redhead enter his stable and his first thought was she was too young to be of much use to him or Belle. What was Dr. Sevign thinking putting someone like this in charge of his clients, even temporarily?
Anna Kingston saw a tall, broad shouldered man standing in front of a stall halfway down the center aisle of one of the nicest, well maintained stables she had ever been in. Dim lighting allowed her to see enough of the stalls and horses to note the superb condition of both as she quickly headed his way, the stressful sounds coming from the mare in trouble urging her to a faster pace.
“I’m Dr. Kingston,” she stated brusquely, barely glancing at the man she assumed was Donovan McGilley. “What’s her name and how far along is she?”
Surprise held Donovan silent and immobile for about five seconds as the woman looked through him as if he wasn’t there, her sole focus on the horse as she stepped around him and entered Belle’s stall. He was used to two reactions from women, attraction and fascination, and wasn’t used to women ignoring him, including the scar that ran down the left side of his face. Even though he usually ignored both common reactions from women he was meeting for the first time, he was finding himself oddly piqued at Dr. Anna Kingston’s complete dismissal of him as a man. Shoving aside his bruised ego, he followed her into the stall and quickly found himself admiring the way all her concern and focus was on his beloved mare.
“Her name’s Belle and she’s barely at thirty eight weeks. She was clipped by a car a few weeks ago and has been stressed ever since.”
Anna sent him a look of chastisement over her shoulder as she set her bag down and laid a soothing palm on the mare’s heaving, extended belly. “You use artificial lighting to mate her out of season?” she asked coolly.
Her tone rankled, more so because Donovan happened to agree with her obvious disapproval of the practice of increasing light by using electrical lights in the stable to stimulate receptor centers in the brain which in turn triggered the production of reproductive hormones. Normally, this occurs naturally in the spring with the longer days of daylight which enables breeding to take place in the summer thus allowing for the birth the following year after 340 days gestation. Summer births are optimal for the health of both the mare and the foal since that’s when the most grass is available for grazing to help a mare’s milk supply, but for the first time, Donovan had caved to the artificial lighting practice to ensure a birth near January first, the official birthday of all Thoroughbreds. Ego and pride in producing several champions in the past had tempted him to switch tactics this one time, and if he discovers that has anything to do with Belle’s current problems, he knew he’d never forgive himself.
Anna sighed, wishing she had kept her mouth shut when she saw the look of worry and regret on his face. It was obvious this man cared deeply for this horse. “Relax,” she murmured, “that wouldn’t have anything to do with what’s going on. I just don’t approve of messing with Mother Nature.”
“Normally, I don’t either. What’s wrong with her?”
“I’ll examine her to make sure, but I think she’s breech, which means it’s going to be a long night.” Opening her bag, Anna pulled out elbow length latex gloves.
Worry made Donovan ask sharply, “Do you have the experience to handle a breech birth, because if not, I need to get someone else here now.”
Anna straightened slowly and looked him squarely in the eye for the first time. “I specialized in equine care in veterinary school and have been practicing in Lexington for three years, Mr. McGilley. Whether you feel I’m qualified or not, I’m all you’ve got because she’s not going to wait for you to find someone else, even if you could at this hour.”
Her eyes were the color of pewter, stormy grey and once again looked at him as if she didn’t actually see him. Her voice was soft, but she spoke with a steely edge, and he found his cock stirring at the challenge her attitude presented. Donovan watched her clip her chin length dark red hair back at the sides before pushing the sleeves up on her sweatshirt, trying to ignore his misplaced lust and concentrate on the matter at hand.
“I’m worried about her. She means a lot to me,” he said by way of an apology.
Pulling the gloves on, she said, “I’m going to need your help, so roll up your sleeves and prepare to get messy.”
> Birthing was messy and nothing he wasn’t used to even though this would be his first breech. But it wasn’t worry over that prospect that had him clenching his jaw and setting aside lust for anger. As she slowly pulled on her gloves in preparation for an internal exam, he noticed the odd angle of her ulna in her right forearm, a sign of a serious break that wasn’t set properly. And the only kind of break that would cause such an odd alignment was a spiral fracture, generally caused by someone twisting an arm until it snapped. Rage infused him, the intensity of which he hadn’t experienced since those early days after his rescue from being held as an Iraqi prisoner.
“I could use a little help here.”
Anna’s cool rebuke accompanied by Belle’s distressed neigh worked to temper his rage and he moved to Belle’s head, gripped her bridle and crooned softly to the agitated mare as she suffered the pain and indignity of Anna’s exam. Dressed in baggy, faded jeans and a sweatshirt, Donovan was unable to detect any other signs of abuse. She had an attractive face, pale as most redheads were with a small smattering of freckles around her nose and a wide mouth that was made for kissing or sucking cock. There were no signs of abuse on her creamy skin, no visible scars or lingering bruises, but, most often, abusers shied away from leaving any telltale signs of their actions where anyone could see them. His unobserved physical exam of her did note the shape of full breasts and rounded buttocks even though the clothes she wore were loose. The stirring of his cock returned and was not only surprising but unwelcome at this moment. Donovan wasn’t a man to be attracted easily or led on by his cock.
As they labored through the night right along with Belle to safely deliver her foal, Donovan’s anger on her behalf was replaced by admiration for her skill. Three hours later, both of them sweaty and bloody along with Belle, a gorgeous colt was safely delivered onto the fresh, clean hay.
“He’s perfect,” Anna beamed after checking over the gangly baby and the tired momma. “And Belle should recover with rest and care.”
Damn if he didn’t want to hug Anna for helping both him and Belle through this ordeal, but he quickly suppressed that surprising reaction, choosing to return her smile instead. “Thanks to you. I owe you an apology; you definitely knew what you were doing.”
Anna sensed apologizing didn’t come easy to this man, and, pleased with the outcome of the last grueling hours, she found it easy to forgive him for his surly attitude earlier. “This little guy makes my third successful breech delivery. Unfortunately, I had one that ended in a stillbirth.”
“Those are always hard to take. I hope that wasn’t a favorite shirt.” The plain pale blue sweatshirt was splattered with evidence of the birth and was definitely slated for the trash.
Looking down, Anna pulled the shirt away from her body and said ruefully, “No, it’s an old one I saved for just such an occasion. I have a spare in my truck. If you have someplace I can change real quick, I’ll write out some instructions and leave some antibiotics before I leave.”
“You can use my office. I’ll wash up while you get your shirt.”
Donovan spread some fresh hay around Belle and her foal while Anna changed, happy to see the little guy suckling greedily at her teat. He had been afraid Belle wouldn’t be able to produce milk after her ordeal, especially since the delivery was so early, but so far, for tonight at least, it looked like she was going to be able to provide for her baby. He was just turning from closing the stall gate when he saw Ethan open the door to his office. It was too late to call out to him that the office was occupied and the sight that greeted both Ethan and Donovan was enough to shock both of them momentarily.
Anna, her bare back to the door, turned her head at the sound of it opening. Remaining calm, she clutched her clean shirt to her chest as she said with a calm collectiveness she was far from feeling, “Do you mind? I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Sorry,” Ethan mumbled red faced before turning guilt stricken eyes to Donovan.
It definitely wasn’t the enticing side view of one very full breast that caused the rage Donovan had suppressed and almost forgotten about to come roaring back with a vengeance, but the three long wide scars running from Anna’s shoulders down her back to disappear in the waistband of her jeans. He knew from experience those scars were made by a leather strap, knew from experience the pain she endured in getting those scars and knew from experience the rage consuming him over the abuse she had suffered was possibly lethal.
But, possibly more than the sight of her marred soft skin, the calm, cool indifference in her grey eyes as she looked at them had him seeing red and clenching his hands into fists. Without a word, he turned and made his way to the tack room, breathing a sigh of relief when he heard his office door close again.
Chapter Twenty
Anna slipped her arms into the clean, button up shirt, her hands trembling as the bile lodged in her throat threatened to come up. For over two years she had managed to keep the physical proof of her husband’s abuse hidden from everyone except her doctor. In the space of less than thirty seconds, her mortifying secret had witnesses and her guilt and shame over the reasons for Todd’s rampage against her came rushing to the surface. Calling on the strength that had gotten her through those days of constant pain and terror at her husband’s hands and the determination to put it behind her after she was free of him, she shored up her defenses and left the office.
Neither Donovan nor the young man who had unsuspectingly exposed her were anywhere to be seen so Anna gathered her bag and her courage and followed some sounds coming from the last room down a narrow corridor. The tack room door was open and her eyes were immediately drawn to the corner where Donovan had his back to her and was pounding the hell out of a hanging punching bag bare handed. It wasn’t his angry, flushed profile that had her shocked into stillness or the violence with which he was attacking the leather bag that had her rooted to the spot. It was the instant arousal she was feeling at the sight of those thickly muscled arms bunching with each swing, the pussy tightening response she experienced as she instantly pictured him shirtless, wished she could see his bare back and watch those strong shoulder and back muscles glistening with sweat as they tightened with each exertive swing of his arms.
Anna’s concern over the laboring Belle had kept her from paying much attention to Donovan other than to make note of his good looks, large size and surly attitude, all of which she had easily set aside to give her full attention to saving Belle and her foal. Over the past few hours she had grudgingly found herself admiring and respecting him as he labored tirelessly alongside her in delivering the foal, his love and concern for the mare obvious in both his soothing patient demeanor and turbulent, emotion filled green eyes. His relief at the successful birth was palpable and before she could question the unexpected jolt his smile gave her, she had quickly retreated.
But seeing him now while still reeling from having been exposed and wondering what he was thinking about what he saw, her stiff nipples and damp pussy evidence of the reawakening of her dormant libido, threw her off her game and she remained mute while she struggled inwardly to get herself under control.
“You don’t want to be in here, Dr. Kingston,” Donovan cautioned, his breath as labored as his roiling emotions. “You need to go.”
Yes, she did, Anna thought, but not before she finished her job. “I have some instructions for you, things to watch for the next few days. She’s not out of the woods yet.”
Donovan heaved a deep breath, dropped his raw knuckled hands and reluctantly turned to face her. Those grey eyes so devoid of emotion didn’t shy away from him, her pale face not showing even a hint of mortification at her exposure, and that just made him even angrier on her behalf because he knew what it took to keep yourself so tightly in check.
“Who hurt you?” he demanded roughly, surprising both of them with his question.
Shaking inside, Anna cursed his intrusiveness and her unaccustomed weakness where he was seemingly concerned. “I’ll set them on your de
sk. Don’t hesitate to call the answering service if there’s a problem, otherwise I’ll come out and check her in a few days,” she said stiffly before turning quickly and leaving, barely noticing the beautiful sunrise as she pulled away from the McGilley stables and a man who’s simple question and concern threatened her hard earned peace of mind.
For almost three years Anna had studiously avoided any situations that might put her in contact with any of the McGilley’s. She cursed fate that had put her on call tonight and sent her out to their farm, but was able to breathe a sigh of relief that it was Donovan McGilley she encountered and not his brother, Colin. As she tiredly drove home, Anna remembered the night a week before her wedding that she had allowed her friend and fellow veterinary student, Diane, talk her into going clubbing, something she, as the daughter of a preacher, had never done. Wanting to have at least one unconventional experience before duty and guilt forced her to tie herself to a man she didn’t love, she threw caution to the wind and followed her more experienced friend blindly that night.
It was Mexican night at Casey’s and after two margarita’s, she was just tipsy enough to agree to let Diane try to wheedle an invite to the private second floor club, a club that rumors ran rampant about, rumors that had her curious enough to want to see for herself. At twenty-six, she wasn’t a virgin, but the two guys she had slept with, also fellow veterinary students, hadn’t given her near the pleasure her secret stash of erotic romances had indicated could be had. She had begun to think that all the hype surrounding sex and orgasms was just that, something found only in fiction, until she had witnessed it firsthand that night.