39. Fable

Chapter 39

Fable

M y stretches today are going well enough. I feel like my leg is starting to grow stronger and stronger with each stretch. There's less of an ache there, but I still have a long way to go. At least I'm able to resume most activities, but there are some I'll just never be able to do. Not like I was gonna be an Olympic runner prior to this anyways.

I'm in the middle of my stretches when Gunnar comes running out of the barn, his expression less than the calm I'm used to seeing him. I straighten, frowning as Jethro starts wagging his tail.

"Come with me," he commands as soon as he reaches me.

"What?" I ask.

"I need you to come with me," he says. "Right now."

"I'm in the middle of my stretches?—"

"Now," Gunnar growls. At my expression, he adds more calmly, "I'm sorry. Look. I need you to come, no questions asked. I can't explain anything, but you have to come with me right now."

"I'm gonna ask questions, Gunnar," I growl. "What the fuck is going on?"

Rhett and Colt appear from the big house, and I frown over at them.

"I'm sorry," Gunnar winces before he grabs me around the waist and throws me over his shoulder. I screech in surprise. "I don't have time to argue."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I snarl, thumping at his back. "Put me down!"

Jethro barks at his feet, annoyed at my treatment, but following as Gunnar rushes with me over to the four-by-four. He tosses me in the back of it rather than the seat and before I can even get my bearings, he's already in the driver seat and taking off. I screech again, clawing at the sides of the little bed to keep from falling out of it. Jethro barks behind us, angry at being left behind as Gunnar speeds into the pastures.

"Where the fuck are we going?" I scream. "Gunnar!"

He doesn't stop for at least five minutes, until we can no longer see the big house and we're out in the honeybee fields. He doesn't take me anywhere near them. It seems like he literally just stops us in the middle of nothing, purposely away from all roads and all structures.

"What the fuck?" I growl, sitting up. "What's going on?"

"I can't tell you," he answers as he leaps out of the seat. "I'm sorry. I had to?—"

"Bullshit!" I snarl as he reaches to help me out of the back.

"You weren't moving, and I didn't have much time," Gunnar explains. For once, his expression is hard. "It's for your safety."

"Does this have something to do with the black cars always coming out here?" I ask, pissed off.

"I can't tell you why," he answers, his eyes on mine. "Just know that this is for the best."

I stab him in the chest with my finger as I get to my feet. "Fuck that! What are y'all hiding?"

"Nothing," he lies, and it's such a bold-faced lie, it only pisses me off more.

"How dare you!" I snarl. "How dare you throw me into the back of this thing like I'm worth nothing and kidnap me out here! I am not a member of this ranch! You can't just manhandle me like that!"

"I apologized," he growls.

"That doesn't matter when you won't explain," I hiss. "Why won't you tell me what's going on?"

His expression goes cold. "No offense, Fable, but we don't owe you an explanation."

My heart sinks. "You're right," I say before turning away.

I'd intended to storm away, to walk back to the big house or something. I don't care how long it takes me. I just don't want to be out here with him, with their secrets. I can't stand it. They're all such assholes.

His hand wraps around my wrist and jerks me back. "Don't do that," he snarls.

"Do what?" I yell back.

"You can't go back yet," he spits back.

"Fuck you," I shout. "I can do whatever I want."

He jerks me against him, his hands holding me in place. I struggle, pissed off, annoyed that he's stronger than me.

"Stop it," he growls.

"Or what?" I demand.

Immediately, I feel his hard length against me, as if this excites him, as if us being angry is fueling him. It only makes my scowl deepen.

"You mother?—"

His lips on mine cut me off. He claims my curse, swallows it, and consumes me. I'm damn near sure he inhales my soul through this kiss because I'm so lost within it only a second later despite my fury. My fingers curl into his shirt aggressively as he swallows my anger, as he feeds me his, until we're both suddenly desperately ripping at each other's clothes. I don't bother with my shirt. We don't bother with shoes. Hell, we barely bother with getting our pants down. One second, we're kissing, and the next, Gunar is pressing the front of my thighs against the back of the side-by-side's tailgate and bending me over it. My thighs are locked together by my pants around my knees, but he doesn't seem to care as reaches between us and runs his fingers through my folds. I'm embarrassed that I'm so wet, that I'm enjoying this as much as he seems to be. He groans and presses against my opening, sliding inside, working in. He's longer than Rhett had been, and it hurts a little when he starts to stroke deeper, stretching me until I'm mewing in both anger and desire. His hand covers my mouth, and I bite at his finger, making him groan and start to move faster. His other hand spears up under my shirt and shoves my bra up enough for him to grab a fistful of my breast and use it to start fucking me brutally against the tailgate.

"You feel so fucking good," he snarls at me just before he buries his teeth in my shoulder.

I cry out, my hands clinging to the edges of the truck bed in an attempt to hang on for dear life. He's rough and angry, but even in this moment, I can tell he's not angry with me. He's angry about the situation. Me? I'm angry at him, at all of them. So, I reach behind me and grab a fistful of his shirt, holding him against me, stalling his movements a little.

He hisses in my ear and wraps his hand around my throat, squeezing my jaw. "You think that's going to stop me from fucking you until you stop asking questions?" he growls.

"I won't stop asking," I spit in between gasps.

"Then maybe this will," he growls. He jerks out of my hold and out of me. The world shifts as he pulls me up and spins me. Before I can protest, he's shoving me to my knees and grabbing my chin. He presses his cock against my lips, and there's a desperation in his movements as he rubs the tip there, as he begs for entrance. Call me stupid, or incredibly turned on, but I open my mouth. Fuck, do I open my mouth. He shoves inside, silencing me as he runs into the back of my throat and groans. The moment my lips seal around him, he goes crazy, his hands spearing into my hair and clenching tightly as he gently fucks my face. I roll my eyes up to look at him and his head is thrown back, his expression twisted with angry ecstasy. His phone rings but he doesn't even bother looking at it. He just keeps fucking my throat, moaning when I gag, taking his pleasure from me.

I dig my nails into his thighs, and he only speeds up, into it. When I get ahold of his balls, he moans so loud, someone surely has to hear.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he groans. "Hurt me. Punish me for not telling you."

I close my teeth a little, running them along his cock as he strokes inside my mouth, and he jerks. His cock starts to twitch, and he snarls. "Fuck. No, not yet!"

I seal my lips and suck, hard, and a guttural groan leaves his throat as his cock starts to jump. He spills down the back of my throat, forcing me to take it all as he holds me to him as he pumps there, finishing while my own pussy throbs with need.

He looks down at me, his eyes hooded, his expression tight with desperation and embarrassment. "Your turn," he says, releasing me and going to lift me up, but I shove him back.

His phone rings again.

"No." I growl. "Take me back."

"Fable, I?—"

"I don't care," I spit. "Take me back. Now."

He glances down at his phone, checking to see if it's okay to take me back no doubt. He looks up at me. "I'm sorry. I can't?—"

I hold up my hand. "Just. Take. Me. Back."

He clamps his lips shut as I jerk my pants back up and right my clothing. I shove my hair back from my face and glare at him.

"Okay," he finally relents. "I'll take you back."

I climb into the passenger seat and cross my arms, refusing to look at him. He climbs in a moment later, his pants buttoned and his shirt fixed. We don't say a word the entire way back.