Learning to Forgive

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2013 Sam Crescent

  ISBN: 978-1-77130-255-5

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  LEARNING TO FORGIVE

  The Sinclair Men, 3

  Sam Crescent

  Copyright © 2013

  Prologue

  Molly glanced over at David’s three children. Blaze, Christopher, and little Trent Sinclair were so adorable. She loved each and every one of them. Even if their father refused to show them an ounce of love or compassion, they were her whole world. At twenty-five years old she never thought in her whole life that she’d be wishing to have a family. These three boys made her want so much more. David Sinclair was ten years her senior, but the way she felt about him was as if the age gap didn’t exist. Not that David would ever see her. He looked through her most of the time. She always felt invisible around him. No one would ever replace his wife.

  Admittedly, her fuller curves were nothing like his first wife. His first wife had been thin, slender, and beautiful. In comparison, Molly was much bigger, with large breasts and huge hips. No matter how many times she went on a diet, there was no dropping the pounds she’d gained since she’d left school. After a time, she’d given up the diets and decided to eat what she liked. She wanted to be happy with herself and her life.

  Shaking her head, she walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of hot chocolate. She didn’t know where David was. The boys’ father spent most of his free time at work. She’d been employed for five months so far. It had been the best five months of her life. How pathetic did that make her? She loved looking after three boys and taking care of a house for a man who didn’t even notice her.

  Blaze and Christopher didn’t seem to mind her. They never treated her nastily. Their attitude was mainly indifferent toward her. Trent was different. He always ran to her when he saw her. At school she’d heard him telling his friends that she was his real mom.

  It broke her heart. Trent was so young but seemed to know so much pain in his sweet little heart.

  A lot of shouting broke through her contemplation. She heard the harsh sound of David’s voice as he shouted. Molly put down her cup and rushed into the sitting room. David held Trent by his bed-time shirt. She couldn’t make out much of the words he spoke. The foul tone was all she needed to hear.

  Without thinking, she pushed past Blaze and Christopher sending the older boys to their room. Molly pulled Trent out of David’s grip. She slapped the older man’s hand away, shooting him a glare. David gave her all of his attention. She stared at him, seeing the pain and knowing there was nothing she could do to make it go away.

  “Don’t interfere, Molly,” David said.

  “Back off. He’s ten years old, David. Cool it off. I can smell the stench of scotch on your breath. Go in the kitchen and pour yourself some coffee or something non-alcoholic.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do.” David took a step closer. Molly pushed Trent behind her and took the step up to him.

  “I swear, David Sinclair, if you don’t back off, I’ll show you what for. I’m not against taking you out. I should also remind you, I’m not from the best part of town. I will bite and claw at you.”

  He stared at her for several seconds, threw his hands up in the air, then moved toward the kitchen. Her heart was racing from his anger. She hated confrontation, and yet, she would have taken him down. David would never have hurt her, though. He’d clearly been drinking and needed to know when to back off.

  The sound of sobs brought her out of her own thoughts. Trent was crying behind her.

  “Sweetheart,” she said in a soothing voice. Molly took his hand, walking up to his room. He hugged her close.

  She tucked him in bed and spoke to him with love before making her way down to David.

  He’d moved into his study. She closed the door behind her. All three boys were asleep; she’d checked on them. Trent had been falling as she tucked him into bed.

  The scent of coffee was more appealing than the stench alcohol she’d smelled on his breath moments ago.

  “You shouldn’t have gotten in the way,” David said. He was facing the fire that was blazing in the hearth. Even from behind he looked amazing. His normally short brown hair had grown to his neck. His shoulders were a thick set from lifting weights. She’d seen the subscription for a gym, and she knew he visited the place at least three times a week. Molly loved his hands the most. She’d listened to him play the piano and watched the videos where he’d built a tree house with his kids. David might be a businessman who worked behind a desk, but he also loved building things with his hands.

  She went to bed every night imagining what those hands would feel like on her body, the rough edges grazing her breasts as he nibbled her neck. Molly cut the thought off. She didn’t want to continue thinking about her and David. They would never happen, no matter how much she wished it.

  “No, I shouldn’t. Trent is not a man. He’s your son. A little boy.”

  David turned to face her. His dark brown eyes sent accusing glares her way. “I would never hurt my boy.”

  “You were tugging at his shirt, David. You were scaring him.”

  “You’re paid to take care of my home, not to tell me how to discipline my child.”

  “How dare you! Trent does not need your firm hand. He needs your love.” The man before her snorted at her words, and the sound made her angry. She marched over to him and slapped him around the face. “Don’t you dare, David Sinclair. You may control your business with an iron fist, but when it comes to children, you need to learn so much more.” Her voice had risen with each word she spoke.

  He caught her hand as she went to hit him once more. The anger inside her burned to a fever pitch. It was like a blackness had filled her, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth.

  “Do not hit me again, Molly.”

  She saw the threat in his voice. Her pulse pounded against her neck as he pulled her in close. She felt the heat of his body radiating from him. The glint in his brown eyes startled her. David wasn’t angry. She didn’t understand the change in him. “You’re like a little wild-cat taking care of her young,” he said.

  “I will not let you hurt those boys.”

  “They’re not your boys. They will never be your boys.”

  His words stung. She gasped as tears filled her eyes. David reached over with his other hand, running a thumb along her bottom lip. “Such fire and passion.” He leaned down, brushing his lips across hers. “Such love.”

  Molly gasped as his lips claimed her own. At first she stayed still, unable to respond. When his tongue peeked out and slid along her lips, she moaned and opened her lips for him.

  His grip tightened on her hand as he pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around his waist, whimpering as he nipped playfully at her lips. Nothing she did could rid the intense need that had arisen inside her. It was consuming, immense, and refused to go away.

  The dress she wore was torn from her body as David tugged at the fabric. She cried out only to have her lips kissed once again. He didn’t give her time to think, only to feel what his own need was doing to her.

  ****

  David knew h
e should stop. For the last five months this tempting, sweet woman had been in his home, and he’d spent the whole time lusting after her. From her large tits to her small waist, she was completely different from his first wife, Isabella. He’d spent many nights bringing himself to orgasm imagining his hands all over her body. He was desperate for her. His lustful thoughts hadn’t diminished once. In fact, the more he saw her, the stronger his feelings were.

  His feelings terrified him. Isabella had once been his whole world. Toward the end, before she was pregnant with Trent, she’d begun to turn into a bitter woman. She hated getting old and had spent a great deal of money on plastic surgery to bring back her youth. At thirty-five, she’d looked perfect to him.

  Cutting off all thoughts of his deceased wife, he cupped Molly’s large breasts in his hands. They were as full as he imagined. The weight of her comforted him. No matter what he did, she’d be able to take him.

  He didn’t speak as he tore the shirt from his body. Within seconds he took her down to the carpet in front of the blazing fire. David pressed himself against her feeling each of her rounded curves. He knew he could get used to the feel of her, to the beauty of her green eyes as she stared up at him. Everything about her screamed sweetness. He wanted to taste her sweetness and keep a piece of her with him at all times.

  Her nails scored a line down his back making him wince. David took hold of her hands, pressing them above her head to stop her from touching him. He leaned back and took his cock in his free hand while also keeping both of her hands trapped underneath him.

  Then in one smooth thrust, he seated himself up to the hilt inside her. She cried out in pain. He stared down into her eyes. Tears had filled her eyes. The pain he saw radiated out of her.

  “Was I your first?” he asked, praying he wasn’t. There was no way someone like Molly would be a virgin at her age.

  She didn’t speak only nodded her head.

  David closed his eyes. He couldn’t pull away. His need was too much to simply pull away.

  “I’ll make it good for you next time. I can’t stop, Molly.” David didn’t wait for an answer as he thrust inside her tight cunt.

  A possessive feeling swept through him. He was Molly’s first man. She’d never slept with or fucked another man before him. She was all his. He’d never been with a virgin before. He wrapped her up in his arms as he took her, hard. There was no stopping his lust.

  For five months he’d kept himself at bay. He could do it no longer. She meant the world to him. And there was where his guilt lay.

  Molly had been in his life five months, and already he felt more connected to her than he ever had with his first wife. It was a harsh, painful reality.

  He wished with all of his heart that he could claim Molly as his wife for the rest of his life. David knew he’d never give her up. Then he remembered he was inside her without a condom. There was no protection. If he orgasmed inside her, there was a chance of a baby. David sent a little prayer begging for her to get pregnant. He knew he was a selfish bastard. There was nothing he could offer her. His love had been taken with Isabella. When he was young he’d been told only one woman would claim his heart. His first wife had taken his heart. Molly would never feel his love. Even as all these thoughts played through his mind, he couldn’t give her up. He slammed inside her, pressing a hand between their bodies to finger her swollen clit. She climaxed around his shaft, which sent him over the edge and into oblivion.

  The only sounds that could be heard in the small room were of their heavy breathing. David didn’t say anything. Molly pushed him away first. He rolled onto his back and watched her get dressed out of the corner of his eye then leave the quiet of his study.

  He stared at the ceiling, his body slowly coming down from the high. If Molly was pregnant, he’d take her as his wife. His boys would have a mother, and no other man would touch her.

  David had seen the trail of his semen as it leaked out of her pussy while she was getting dressed. All he had to wait for was time. He closed his eyes and smiled. Never before in his life had he felt so damn happy. If Molly wasn’t pregnant this time, then he’d take her again and again until she was.

  He was a bastard, but he wasn’t the head of a successful business if he played nice all the time.

  Chapter One

  Twenty-five years later

  David stared at his wife. She was now fifty years old, and to him she looked every bit as beautiful as she did when they first met. They’d been together twenty-five years. A long time for some couples, to him it hadn’t been nearly enough time to be with her.

  Their time together had been rough, at times down right depressing. Their relationship could be as dangerous as the ocean at peak times. After two more boys together, he’d thought he could handle everything. However, he’d been wrong.

  “What?”

  “I want a divorce. I can’t stand this anymore. All the boys are gone. You have no need for me. You can spend the rest of your life mourning the death of your first wife. Please, let me go,” Molly said, pressing the papers against his hand.

  He licked his lips taking the papers from her. They were legal documents that would end his claim to her. His gut tightened at the thought of never seeing her again. They had two sons together, and he knew even with two boys, he’d never see her again. Luke and John couldn’t stomach him at the best of times. He knew those two had to be in on this sudden declaration of divorce.

  “No, I’m not signing this.” He threw the papers to the floor in disgust. For the last twenty-five years Molly had been his woman. There was no way he was letting her go after all this time.

  “I don’t accept that,” she said. “I want a divorce, David. I hate this life. I hate you.”

  “You don’t mean that.” He knew she loved him. Tears sprang to her eyes. David stared into her green depths, which reminded him of the first time he’d made love to her. He’d taken her innocence and given her their child. Luke.

  “You want to torture me some more? Is that it? Twenty-five years of being second best and you want me to spend the rest of my life knowing I wasn’t good enough for you?” Her voice rose, the anger and pain kicking him again and again.

  “Torture? Has being married to me really been that hard?” he asked, getting to his feet.

  “You really have to ask me that? Yes, David, it has. I’m lonely. I’m fifty years old, and in the last twenty-five years I haven’t known what it feels like to be loved. All your love died with Isabella, remember?” She ran her fingers through her hair. Even at fifty, the few shades of white did nothing to smear her natural beauty. Her blond tresses fascinated him. She was a natural blond and caring. Fucking hell, he loved her so much and had never told her. “I can’t do this anymore. You said you cared about me. If you did then you’d sign the papers.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t sign those papers. I love you too damn much to let you go,” he said.

  She turned on him, pushing at his chest. Her age hadn’t stopped her natural response to retaliate. How many times had she pushed him, or shoved him, when he drove her crazy?

  Too many to count. It was a small sign of how much she still loved him. “Don’t even think of saying that to me. You’ve never loved me, David.”

  David grabbed the papers and threw them on the fire. “I’m not letting you go. Get used to it.”

  She stared at the burning papers, tears trailing down her face. He went to comfort her but stopped when she faced him. “Don’t come near me. I want nothing to do with you.” Molly pulled the ring off her finger. In all the years they’d been married he’d never seen her remove the wedding band he’d given her. She threw the jewellery into the fire then walked away.

  David waited for her to leave before using a poker to pull the ring out of the burning flames. He left it to cool down then picked it up. Placing it in his palm, he felt the first of his own tears begin to fall.

  Molly had no idea how he felt about her. The divorce was clearly her final str
aw. He heard a door slamming upstairs, and he knew she’d gone into a guest room. She wouldn’t be in his bed tonight. He hated sleeping alone. Since the moment he placed that wedding band on her finger, she’d been his. The only time they’d not been in conflict had been when the door to their bedroom had closed.

  He had thought he could show her with actions rather than words how he felt about her.

  The phone rang, pulling him out of his thoughts. He picked it up and heard Luke on the other end.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “Hi, David. Where’s Mom?” Luke asked.

  “I’m your father, Luke. Please start using my title.” Luke and John had stopped calling him father since they’d become teenagers. His two sons by Molly and Trent, his youngest from his first marriage, couldn’t stand the sight of him.

  “Whatever. Is Mom there? Have you signed the papers?”

  “What?” David asked.

  “We know Mom was going to ask you for a divorce. We wanted to know if you were going to be a good person for once and let her go or if you were going to be a hard-ass.”

  “You convinced your mother to divorce me?” David said, yelling into the phone.

  “Let’s face it, David. You don’t love her. You never have. Let her go, and at last let her find someone who could love her.”

  “I don’t want to hear you talking to your mother about a divorce. This is none of your business. Do you understand?”

  Before he gave his son time to respond, he slammed the phone down with a growl. Where had he gone wrong? Blaze was going through his own divorce. Christopher spent most of his time matchmaking other couples. Trent was doing whatever it was he did, and the other two boys were conspiring to take his wife away.

  No, he wouldn’t let them take the only woman he’d ever felt so much passion towards away from him. He loved her too damn much.