Ollie Morgan [Seven Brothers for McBride 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove)

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Ollie Morgan [Seven Brothers for McBride 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) Page 6

by Anitra Lynn McLeod


  Touched, Ollie squeezed his arm a little tighter around Jonas’s shoulders. He was a beautiful man. Even with tears tumbling down his cheeks, he still looked unbelievably handsome. Blond locks obscured his pale blue eyes but highlighted the rich redness of his lips. Last night they’d been lost in one another’s embrace, but there had been a frantic kind of fear about what they were doing because they both knew it undoubtedly wouldn’t last.

  “I want to be with him, too,” Ollie confirmed softly.

  “I understand that. Trust me, I do, but I simply can’t allow this to continue.” McBride lowered his voice. “Don’t you understand that I’m the one who will pay when you’re inevitably caught?”

  “But we won’t be.”

  “Jonas was my father’s companion for years. Everyone in town knows what he looks like. Eventually, someone will recognize him. No matter what you say, no one is going to believe I didn’t know.”

  “I don’t look much like I did when I was with your father.”

  “It’s true. He was heavier then, and drank much more blood.” Ollie thought Jonas was stunning either way, but without a constant influx of blood, he had lost weight and his skin was paler. Not ashen, not sickly, but pale like he eschewed the sun in favor of the night, which was much more likely given Jonas’s temperament.

  “Someone is going to recognize him. And that’s another thing you haven’t thought on. Where will he get his blood from? If he drinks from you, where will I drink?” As soon as McBride asked the question, there seemed to be an answer that came to him, one he clearly didn’t care for given how he shook his head. Ollie would give just about anything to know what McBride had thought of in that moment.

  “He will drink from me, and you can drink from my brothers.” Ollie saw another strange flash of what he could only call longing in McBride’s eyes. The idea appealed to him on some level, but Ollie had no idea why.

  “I don’t think one man will be enough to sustain him. Not for long, at any rate.”

  “My need for blood is almost nil.” Jonas looked up at McBride. He still wasn’t dressing himself, but he used his clothing to hide his body. McBride thought that Jonas had shaved his hair to make himself appear more thrall-like, but the truth was his body hair had always been sparse. When he’d decided to go all-in for his transformation, he’d had what little hair there was removed by electrolysis. Ollie had loved the effect, but frankly, he wouldn’t care if Jonas had hair or not because he loved the man, not his body.

  “And you wouldn’t mind me feeding from your mate?” McBride looked at Ollie, frowning when he saw the scarf.

  “I understand that is the way of things when I’m a thrall. So no, I wouldn’t be upset.”

  McBride moved close to Ollie and removed the scarf. With gentle hands and probing fingers, McBride examined the scars on either side of Ollie’s neck. When he touched the one he’d made on top of Jonas’s old one, Ollie couldn’t help but utter a small, needy cry. As valiantly as he struggled to remain unmoved, he simply couldn’t. He felt as if he were betraying his love by falling victim to the needs McBride evoked.

  Ollie looked up just in time to see McBride looking at Jonas. Despite his efforts to stay indifferent, Jonas looked upset. The worry lines around his eyes and mouth deepened. McBride stroked the scar again while watching Jonas. He was better able to control himself, but it was still clear Jonas wasn’t happy with what McBride was doing.

  “I drank from him the other night and shared a meal with him.” McBride lowered his mouth to Ollie’s neck so that the words caressed the scar.

  Ollie shivered and would have closed his eyes, but he was determined to watch Jonas. Perhaps if they could survive this little test of McBride’s, he would let them stay together. It was doubtful, but something in Ollie refused to give up. He swore he would do anything to be with Jonas. If that meant feeding McBride on a nightly basis, he would find a way to make it happen.

  “His blood and his food were both richly satisfying.” McBride licked along the scar, making Ollie struggle to stay upright. Ollie wanted to sag down to the floor in a puddle of ecstasy. When Jonas teased his scar, the emotions were more profound. With McBride, all Ollie felt was submissive, needy lust. “I love to watch him fist his prick when I drink. I swear, a rousing release makes his blood a dozen times sweeter.”

  Jonas obviously struggled to remain impassive, but each word that tumbled out of McBride’s mouth to caress Ollie’s scar pushed Jonas closer to the edge. He might long to be a thoroughly submissive thrall, but there were still too many parts of him that were entitled gentryman.

  “Surely you must know what I’m talking about.” McBride parted his lips, making Ollie tense for a bite, but he just ran the sharp edge of his canine along the scar. “How wonderful he tastes when his arousal peaks.”

  Ollie realized Jonas was tightening his fist along his clothing to hold himself back. And that was when Ollie knew that no matter how much Jonas wanted to be a submissive thrall, he was and always would be a landed gentryman. Any moment now he was going to strike out at McBride, which was obviously McBride’s intent. He had tried telling them the truth, and when that didn’t work, he’d opted for showing them.

  “But maybe I will try him from this side.”

  Before Ollie realized what McBride’s was doing, he pushed Ollie’s head to the side, exposing the scar that Jonas had made on the other side of his neck. When he licked it, Ollie felt nothing, but Jonas winced as if he’d been struck.

  “Please don’t.” Jonas reached out but dropped his hand before he made contact.

  “But he belongs to me. If you were a true thrall, you would have no need of his blood at all.” McBride had thoroughly ground his point in both their faces. Neither of them could fight their true natures. They could change their names, dress differently, switch roles, but they would always be slaves to the essential parts of themselves.

  “I never meant to fall in love with him.”

  Looking at Jonas now, Ollie understood how desperately he’d worked to stop his emotions toward him from deepening. “I couldn’t help but fall in love with you.”

  Their confessions seemed to soften McBride because his hard hold on Ollie’s neck eased.

  “He’s all I have left.” Jonas hung his head. “Please don’t take him away from me.”

  McBride let Ollie go. There was no reason to continue with the charade. McBride wasn’t hungry. He just needed to clarify the truth for all of them. “Get dressed.” Turning away, McBride stood looking out the bedroom window toward the fields.

  Ollie helped Jonas dress. Jonas was trembling so badly that Ollie had him sit on the bed so he could pull up his socks and then put on his shoes. When Ollie looked over his shoulder, he caught McBride watching, but not with hatred in his eyes. If anything, McBride looked like he understood exactly what the two of them were going through.

  But how could McBride know? He was the sheriff, and holding to the law was his ultimate responsibility. Having his slammer break a rule that was also taboo should have put him in a rage, but he wasn’t. Had what Ollie said last night tempered McBride’s fury? Ollie had never thought of himself as that persuasive, but he would like to be. Or perhaps the answer was that McBride was that understanding.

  “He gave all his money to me. I want to give it back.” Ollie rose to his feet, but he didn’t even try to bring Jonas to his. He was shaking and silently crying, breaking Ollie’s heart each time a tear dotted on his tailored shirt. Even when he tried to look lower class, Jonas couldn’t help but look utterly exquisite and beautifully put together. His lavender shirt and mulberry trousers were perfectly matched to his socks and his shoes.

  “I think that’s for the best.”

  “But where will I go?”

  “Somewhere other than here.” McBride looked out Ollie’s window toward the field again.

  Following his gaze, Ollie looked at all the work they had accomplished in half a day. They were a good crew, and they worked hard.

/>   “I will work twice as many hours a day.”

  “That’s not it, Ollie.”

  “I will work, too.” Jonas rose and stood by Ollie’s side. Against his tortured tears, he still managed to look strong. “Together we will be able to get a lot done in a day.”

  McBride reached out and grasped one of Ollie’s hands and one of Jonas’s. He flipped them over, examining their palms. “Do you see this? One hand is hardened from long hours of work, and the other is soft because of idleness.”

  Jonas yanked his hand away. “I doubt your palm was always so callused.” Lowering his voice, he added, “Or your heart.”

  “My hands are harder now, and so is my heart. I had no choice but to step into my father’s shoes after he died unexpectedly.”

  That snapped Ollie out of his daze. “You can’t think Jonas had anything to do with that?”

  “Can’t I?” McBride focused his intense gaze on Jonas. It was as if he could strip him down to his core elements with his focus alone. “You left quickly and under cover of night.”

  “I left because I was afraid to stay.”

  “Afraid of what? Getting caught?”

  “Of being accused of something. But more than that, I was desperate to let Ollie go so he could have a normal life.” Jonas met Ollie’s gaze. “I really tried to stay away.”

  “I thought maybe Caleb threatened you.” It appeared his attack on his brother today had been unwarranted.

  “No, Caleb left me alone. He glared at me constantly, but he never touched me or spoke to me.”

  Somehow, that just made Ollie feel worse. “I’m so sorry that I can’t fix this.” As the dominant partner in their relationship, Ollie felt that it was up to him to make things right, but he didn’t know how. Perhaps this was part of McBride’s plan, too.

  “That’s you, my beautiful Ollie. Always trying to make things work.” Jonas leaned close as if he would kiss Ollie, but he stopped and darted a glance at McBride. “Please don’t reprimand him for my mistake.”

  “I won’t have to if you leave quietly.” It was a powerful threat. If Jonas caused any problems, McBride would punish Ollie, something that Jonas clearly didn’t want on his conscience.

  Ollie wanted to drop to his knees and beg McBride to let Jonas stay, but he knew that wouldn’t change his mind. McBride was a compassionate soul, but he was right. He simply couldn’t allow anything illegal on his farm. He could lose everything.

  “As soon as I have my funds, I will go.”

  Chapter 9

  Jonas didn’t want the money back from Ollie, but without it, he wouldn’t be going anywhere. “A quick trip into town and we can make the transfer.”

  At that, McBride’s face hardened.

  Jonas almost asked why, and it was clear Ollie would have, too, but Jonas shook his head sharply, cutting Ollie off. Something bothered McBride. Was it the delicacy of transferring funds from Ollie’s account back into Jonas’s? It would be easy to claim it was a simple mistake. As his prior owner, there could be multiple reasons why a transfer was made in error. A dozen excuses popped instantly to Jonas’s mind, so that couldn’t be what caused McBride’s hesitation. But one thing Jonas had learned in his life of leisure was that people often spoke up to fill the void of silence. The longer he and Ollie remained quiet, the more likely McBride would be to talk.

  “No one can go into town.”

  Jonas and Ollie exchanged puzzled yet hopeful looks. If they couldn’t transfer the money, Jonas couldn’t leave. But Jonas didn’t think that meant McBride was going to let them stay together. Again, they chose silence over idle talk or pointed questions that wouldn’t be answered anyway.

  “I was going to ask Ollie to leave the field and become my personal chef.”

  It was a great honor. But McBride said he was going to ask. Past tense. Perhaps he no longer trusted Ollie after this subterfuge. If Jonas had cost his love a job he would truly enjoy, Jonas would never, ever forgive himself.

  McBride’s attention strayed out the window, prompting Jonas to look that way, too. All he saw was one of the brothers. Even from a distance there was no mistaking that it was Caleb. Jonas shuddered. His monstrous form was unmistakable. However, when Jonas assessed McBride, he noticed that he did not look upon Caleb with fear or loathing. Ollie had said that McBride had tamed Caleb without using brutality, and Jonas wondered how he had accomplished that feat. Watching McBride watch Caleb, Jonas noticed that McBride’s gaze was intense. But what caused that determined focus?

  And then the truth became apparent when McBride’s tongue swirled around the tip of his extended canine. It wasn’t Ollie who made him famished for blood. It was Caleb. McBride didn’t seem to even be aware that he was looking at Caleb while massaging his teeth with his tongue.

  A dark plan came to Jonas then. He had never considered himself a devious man. Having been at the losing end of the neighbor’s horrid demands and manipulations, Jonas swore he would never be able to inflict such torture on another. But now that his love was on the line, he thought perhaps he could. In another life, under different circumstances, Jonas never could have conceived of such a plan, but he would do anything to have Ollie, even violate his own code of conduct.

  Even as the details filtered into his mind, Jonas knew he had to be subtle. Delicate timing and innuendo would be far better than simply bashing McBride over the head with this shocking discovery. It would be too pedestrian to accuse McBride of lusting after Caleb and then using that as a wedge to get what he wanted. McBride would simply dismiss the notion, fill Jonas’s pocket with funds, and send him on his way. No, that would not do. What Jonas had to do was trap McBride in his own lust. He had to make the idea seem palatable to him by making it the lesser of two evils.

  “Please allow Ollie to cook for you. I know that would be his most proud achievement.” Jonas moved away from Ollie, which clearly caused him some distress, but Jonas vowed to be strong to see his idea through. “I would hate to think that I cost him such an honor.”

  McBride’s attention was still focused on Caleb, but he nodded as he kept rubbing his canines with his tongue. “I would like that, but not if he’ll poison me for taking you away.”

  “I would never hurt you.” Ollie shook his head. “Cooking is how I express the creative side of myself. Using food as a weapon would be against who I am.”

  Turning from the window, McBride finally stopped fiddling with his teeth. “You wouldn’t want revenge on me?”

  Ollie met his gaze. “I’m angry, but I am still your faithful slammer.”

  It was obvious from the expression on McBride’s face that he would never fully trust Ollie again, and that was a shame, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Only time could heal a wound like that. Time and attentive actions that demonstrated Ollie’s trustworthiness. That meant that if Jonas were to do this, he would have to go it alone. If things turned ugly, he didn’t want Ollie blamed for any of it.

  “Since we cannot go into town, I propose I stay up at the big house with you.” Jonas ignored the stricken look on Ollie’s face. He had to in order to put his plan into motion. Soon enough, they would be able to be together forever. What would stun Ollie was that it would be with McBride’s blessing.

  Chapter 10

  McBride realized his mistake halfway between the brothers’ homes and the big house. He never should have allowed Jonas and Ollie to walk together. He knew from prior discussions that Caleb did not like Jonas. He didn’t know why, exactly, he just knew the hatred was deep and abiding. The notion that Caleb didn’t like Jonas because of what he’d done to Ollie was part of it, but Ollie said Jonas had always been afraid of Caleb. Since his neck was untouched, McBride knew he’d never drunk from him, which was Jonas’s right, so he must have been fully in fear of the eldest Morgan brother.

  McBride saw Caleb running their direction from the field. “Hurry into the house.”

  Unaware of the impending danger, Jonas and Ollie stopped and turned rather than f
ollowing his order. Once they saw Caleb, they ran for the house, but it was too late. McBride tried to head Caleb off, but he was surprisingly fast for a big man. He darted around McBride, causing him to turn that direction, but when he did, Caleb spun on his heel and turned the other way.

  “Damn it!” McBride hurried after him, but he wasn’t going to make it in time.

  Jonas and Ollie had just barely stepped onto the porch when Caleb snarled and reached for Jonas.

  Caleb didn’t yell, scream, or do anything other than lift Jonas up by the collar of his shirt and shake him violently.

  Ollie bellowed and slapped ineffectually at Caleb’s massive fist while Jonas turned blue from lack of air.

  Reaching out, McBride wrapped his hand around Caleb’s wrist, squeezing until he had to let go. Jonas stumbled into Ollie’s arms while McBride moved Caleb back.

  “Take him in the house, Ollie. I’ll be there in a moment.” McBride didn’t let go of Caleb until he had pushed, pulled, and practically dragged him back to his own home. Once they were inside, McBride slammed the door. The first thing that struck him was Caleb’s alluring scent, and the second was the unending fury in his eyes. Had McBride not intervened, Caleb would have strangled Jonas to death, and McBride would have had to arrest him for murder. The thought of Caleb being taken away like that scared McBride, reminding him that his emotions were already far too fully engaged. He had to do something, anything, to put distance between them.

  “If you sell my brother to that degenerate, I’ll—” Caleb abruptly stopped talking.

  After waiting a moment, McBride asked, “What? What will you do?”

  Visibly trying to calm himself, Caleb took several deep breaths before he spoke again. “Jonas took advantage of Ollie when he was a boy.” Caleb crossed his arms over his chest. His stance made it perfectly clear he’d made up his mind about the situation and he wouldn’t be budged.

  “A boy?” McBride lifted his brows. “We both know slammers aren’t sold until they are of age. Since you were sold as brothers, the youngest, Bailey, had to have been eighteen at the time of the sale.”

 

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