13. AVA
AVA
“Vet is here,” Duncan announces, walking into the stall with another gentleman trailing behind him.
I met him earlier when he directed me here as I was looking for Zane. He discouraged me from coming in, but I was determined to see and apologize to Zane. Maybe I should have listened because this is not what I was expecting, but I’m glad I’ve stayed.
This is not the first horse I’ve seen die.
I did grow up in Texas, after all, but after being away for so long, I had forgotten how emotionally taxing it can be to let go of a beloved animal.
In his defense, Zane did try to chase me away, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave him after seeing how distraught he was.
The doctor is an older man, maybe in his late forties to early fifties, kind face, brown bright eyes, and a thick full beard. He’s on the shorter side, wearing a flannel shirt, jeans, and a cowboy hat.
Zane looks relieved at the sight of him. I could tell he was at the end of his rope—not because of his physical pain, but watching Lilly suffer for so many hours has been emotionally taxing for him.
“Thank you for coming,” Zane expresses.
Dr. Breyer nods with a tight-lipped smile as he opens his medical bag and starts getting ready to put Lilly to rest.
“Ava, I think you should go now,” Zane says dismissively.
“No.”
He gives me a disapproving look. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”
“I learned from the best,” I smirk at him.
He’s forgetting that he is the most stubborn man on the planet. I grew up under his wing—of course I picked up a few things.
He looks like he wants to argue further, but Lilly bucks, letting out a prolonged groan of pain, and we realize that we’ve tortured her long enough. Whether Zane likes it or not, I’m staying.
Dr. Breyer puts on his gloves and prepares two scary-looking needles. I know one has a sedative and the other an overdose of anesthetic drugs.
“Ready?” Dr. Breyer asks, holding up the first needle.
“No,” I reply as if the question is directed toward me.
Zane glares at me.
“Sorry,” I mutter, which makes him glare at me harder.
I clamp my mouth shut and let the doctor do his work. I watch with tears in my eyes as the first injection goes into Lilly’s neck and then the second. She takes deep, labored breaths and her head slacks, but she’s still alive.
“Now we wait,” Dr. Breyer announces.
The urge to reach out and take Zane’s hand is overwhelming, but I reel it in. I know he’s masking his true feelings, and I’m not about to expose him in front of his employees.
We all feel it the moment her heart stops, so that even by the time the doctor declares her dead, we know.
All the men take off their hats and pay their last respects before Dr. Breyer starts packing up. And that’s it—Lilly is gone forever.
Zane gets to his feet, shakes Dr. Breyer’s hand, and walks out of the stall. I quickly jump to my feet, grab the gift bag, and chase after him.
He’s headed for his cabin, taking wide steps that are hard to match, but I do my best.
“How are you going to bury her?” I ask, falling into step with him.
“We’re not. She will be rendered.”
“Oh, I guess that’s one way,” I mutter.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Diva, but that’s how we handle things around here,” he asserts.
“I didn’t mean—“
He shakes his head, cutting me off. “You should go in and get some rest. I am going to do the same.”
“Zane...”
“I’m sure Lilly appreciated you being there for her in her last moments. I do too,” he says as we get to the door of his cabin.
I guess that’s as much of a thank you as I’m going to get from him. He turns to me, tips his hat at me, and walks in, closing the door behind him. At least he hasn’t slammed it this time.
I’m about to walk away when I realize that I didn’t give him his gift—the reason I was looking for him in the first place. I have two options: I can leave and give it to him another day, or follow him in and do so now. I want to get this over and done with, so I open his door and let myself in.
I hear movement in the bedroom, so I track him there. He’s seated on the bed, shirt and shoes off, jeans unbuckled as he sits on the bed, hands supporting his head as he stares off into the distance.
He looks so broken and downcast that I want to pull him into my arms and hug his pain away, but I know that will be met with rejection, so I hold back.
I never thought I’d get to see this side of Zane.
Even when we were younger, he was always the cool, aloof one.
Then things happened and he became cold, grumpy, and emotionally walled off.
So getting to see him express an emotion other than anger is unnerving.
I hate seeing him hurting like this, especially when there’s nothing I can do about it.
Or is there?
He lifts his head up and meets my eyes, reflecting nothing but anguish. He doesn’t say anything, and I realize that I cannot leave with that image of him stuck in my head.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I drop the gift bag and it clunks onto the floor noisily before bridging the gap between us. I don’t give him a moment to stop me as I crawl onto his lap and kiss him, hoping to take his pain away.
His jaw slacks in shock, and I take the chance to shove my tongue into his mouth and kiss him deeper. His hand finds its way into my hair, and he pulls my head back, his wild eyes gazing into mine.
“What are you doing?” he rasps out.
I shake my head at him, unable to articulate what I’m feeling right now. I just want to take his pain away. My lips find his once more, and I can tell he’s doing his best to resist, but other parts of him are already reacting to me.
I reach between us and grab his hardening manhood over his jeans. He hisses and bites my lower lip, drawing blood. I taste the metallic, tangy fluid on my tongue, but I refuse to stop.
“Ava,” he groans in between kisses.
Ever so slowly, I feel his restraint cave as he kisses me back fervently, reaching for my top to bring it over my head.
“Fuck, I’ve dreamt about these,” he groans when he sees that I’m not wearing a bra underneath.
His words catch me off guard, and before I can question him, he latches onto one of my nipples, tugging with his teeth as his hand plays with my other breast.
A moan makes its way past my lips as I throw my head back, reaching into his jeans to grab his bare manhood. He bucks forward as I pull him out. He fills my hand, and I realize that I might have signed up for more than I can handle.
“Chickening out?” he asks when he notices the falter in my movements.
I shake my head. I put myself in this position, and I’ll be damned if I let it pass, especially with how good it feels and how turned on I am.
“Good,” Zane rasps out as he flips us around on the bed, trapping me under him.
My jeans and his come off next, and so do our underwear, allowing us to be skin to skin. I enclose my legs around his waist and bring him lower, his hard length brushing against my bare thigh.
Using one of his hands, he pushes his weight off me while the other wraps around his cock, bringing it to my entrance. I’m so wet, I’m basically leaking onto the mattress through my ass crack.
“Are you ready?” he asks, aligning himself with my entrance.
I nod, my eyes locked onto his. He lowers his lips onto mine and kisses me just as he slowly starts pushing forward. I’m no virgin, but it’s been a while and Zane is huge, so it’s a bit of an adjustment.
Inch by inch, my walls envelop him until he’s fully buried inside me, our lips attached the whole time. It feels good—full, but oh so good.
“Please move,” I plead with Zane when I feel him hesitate.
As if he was waiting for those two words, he starts pistoning in and out of me in steady movements, gradually increasing speed to a pace that we’re both comfortable with.
If someone told me that I’d be having sex with Zane less than seventy-two hours after I landed in Wrangler Creek, I would have laughed in their face and called them crazy, yet here I am, with him balls deep inside me.
Maybe I am the crazy one.
But if crazy feels this good, then I proudly embrace the title.
“You with me?” Zane asks breathlessly, pinching my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, making me cry out.
“Yes!” I scream.
That otherworldly orgasm we’ve been chasing takes control, and before I know it, I’m falling and taking Zane with me.
He roars as he empties himself in me while I bite his shoulder as my climax takes control of my body.
Once he’s done, he drops himself on top of me, and I savor the feeling of his weight on me.
We don’t say anything—it’s not the time or place—we just lay still, wrapped in each other’s arms, basking in this moment.
After a few minutes, Zane lifts himself off me, pulls out, and just when I think he’s going to kick me out, he bends over and picks me up, carrying me to the bathroom. It looks like he’s not done with me yet, which is good, as I’m not done with him either.