The Lawson Boys: Marty

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The Lawson Boys: Marty Page 10

by Angela Verdenius


  God above, she was going to go on fire! Blistering heat was spiralling through her and she strained closer and closer to the man who was surely going to make her combust, and-

  Abruptly his magic, carnal mouth left hers, his big palm was gone from her bottom, and as she stood there, swaying and more than a little dazed, she could only blink up at Marty in dreamy confusion.

  “Belle, I’m sorry.” He spoke quietly, huskily, and his eyes burning down into hers were filled with regret. “I didn’t mean for this - oh hell, yes, I did, but-”

  “Marty!”

  “Coming, Dad!” Marty called back over his shoulder before he turned once more to face Belle. “Look, I-”

  It was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over her. Belle shoved at Marty and to his credit he moved back, though he kept his hands hovering outwards as though to steady her.

  God, yes, she needed steadying, but not from him.

  “J-just go,” she stammered, her cheeks flaming.

  Oh God, how mortifying! He’d had his hands on her massive backside and her thunder thighs each side of his muscular thigh. He must have felt every flabby bit of her, no wonder he was sorry!

  Thrusting one hand through his hair, Marty looked down at her. “Belle, it was just going to be a kiss, just-”

  “I know. I know!” Oh God, how she did know. “It got out of hand.” Though how the hell that could happen with her, the angels in heaven only knew. “You got your kiss, now go.” Hands shaking, she attempted to straighten her skirt.

  Big hands brushed hers aside and Marty pulled her skirt straight, tugging it down, and she could only gape at him.

  “Okay.” He swiped his hand through his hair again, his grin a little rueful this time. “You look decent.” His gaze dropped to her chest and darkened. “Kind of.”

  Looking down, she groaned and hurriedly done up the four buttons gaping open, wondering when he’d even had time to undo them. God, the man had hands and fingers like an octopus!

  Not knowing where to look or what to say, Belle turned away. “You have to go.”

  “Belle-”

  “Please, Marty, just go.”

  There was silence for several seconds.

  “Marty!” Mr Lawson’s shout was closer.

  “Coming now.” Marty called back, a trifle impatiently.

  Oh thank God. Belle wanted to cry, groan and swear all at once. Her cheeks were hot - scratch that, her entire body was hot.

  “Belle, look at me.”

  Not in this lifetime. She started walking fast towards the bed. “I have to pack and you have to go. Goodbye, Marty.”

  There was silence for several seconds before Marty swore. She heard the door open and gave a sigh of relief when it shut again. Thank God he was gone, thank-

  “Belle, look at me.”

  He wasn’t gone. Sweet Jesus. “You’re going to be late.”

  “If you don’t look at me right now, Belle, I’m coming over to you.”

  How could such a threat sound so hot, sexy and threatening all at once? Mutely, Belle slowly pivoted around but she couldn’t meet his eyes, instead keeping her gaze on his jaw. That oh, so firm jaw. Down, girl.

  “This isn’t finished.”

  “It is.”

  “No, it isn’t.” That jaw tightened. “I’ll be back.”

  That had her gaze flying up and she was taken aback by the darkness of his brilliant blue eyes. “No need. I understand.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes.” No.

  “I’ll be back. Be here.”

  The order had her stiffening, embarrassment or not. “Maybe I will be, maybe I won’t. You don’t get to tell me what to do just because you amused yourself with a little groping.”

  He took one step forward, only to halt as his father called his name impatiently once more. Yanking the door open, he backed out, but just outside the door he pointed at her and said softly and dangerously, “Be here.” The door shut firmly behind him as he turned away.

  Belle nearly crumpled on the spot, barely making it to the bed where she plopped down on the edge of it and stared at the closed door.

  What had just happened?

  She’d been kissed, that’s what had happened. Kissed very hotly, very…physically. His taste was still in her mouth and she could swear she could still feel his hot, calloused palm on her bottom.

  Sweet Jesus have mercy, what she wouldn’t give to feel that again, but part of her cringed at the thought of the tall, muscular body, a perfect example of a man in his prime, a man who’s body and face had women taking third and fourth looks in his direction, pressed up against her own body. Her body that was so far from perfect. Too round, too full, and definitely not a body at which men bothered to take even a second look.

  The thought had a chill flushing out the warmth, vanquishing any tendrils of heat that were still curling languidly through her. Trevor had said he loved her body, had wined and dined her, made her see romance where there was obviously none, and he’d expertly seduced her, even giving in to her plea to make love in the dark so he wouldn’t see her imperfections. Come to think of it, it hadn’t taken much pleading and look how that had ended up. He’d taken her virginity, slept with her twice more - in the dark, to make her feel better, he’d said - and then blithely gone off to marry his fiancée.

  Dropping her face into her hands, she groaned in renewed mortification. Trevor had no doubt laughed about it to his friends, shared the saga of how easy it was to pop the fat girl’s cherry, all he had to do was whisper sweet nothings in her ear and she’d fallen on her back like a tipped over turtle. No wonder he’d been happy to have sex in the dark, no wonder he hadn’t quibbled, not even once. Her thunder thighs weren’t exactly on par with his glamorous bride’s that’s for sure.

  And damn it, Marty was Trevor’s friend, close or not, and he’d talked to Marty. Talked to him for God’s sake! Had he also shared what he’d felt while he’d had sex that night with her? All flab and rolls and like screwing a beached whale?

  Whoa. Realising that she was mentally tearing herself down, Belle straightened and shook her head. No, she was worth more than that, she wasn’t going to tear herself apart. What she had to do was go home and push this whole unpleasant episode deep down in a dark corner of her mind.

  As for being at the mansion when Marty returned, she had no idea if he meant that night or the next day, but she certainly didn’t intend to be alone with him again, even if it meant locking the bedroom door.

  Right now, she wouldn’t trust the male of the species as far as she could kick them.

  Now if she could only smother the memory of his magic, hot mouth on hers…

  ~*~

  The universe was conspiring against him. Marty cursed as he waited for the taxi. The meetings he had yesterday and the paperwork needing to be done ASAP at the office had kept him late into the night and way too late to go to his parent’s place to seek out Belle, he didn’t have her mobile number to ring her from home, this morning his car was dead for some unknown reason that his brother Alex would have understood, and now the taxi was late.

  Marcia had rung him at the crack of dawn, interrupting a boner-causing dream that involved Belle with her lush body and silky curls that had entrapped him in a siren’s caress. The fact that he could hear the early morning aerobic class in the background didn’t put him in a good frame of mind. Personally, he thought ringing anyone in the early morning was poor taste.

  However, that had never stopped Marcia. She’d rung to ensure he hadn’t forgotten their date that night and without letting him get a word in edgewise, she’d nattered on about what she was going to wear, the new aerobics instructor who was, apparently, a tart in lycra who didn’t know what she was doing, and the fact that the gym had run out of apple juice, a heinous crime.

  By the time Marty managed to cut her off with the excuse of his business phone ringing, he was no longer in the mood to go back to bed and try to recapture the boner-causing drea
m. Marcia had well and truly killed the mood, and he was also too much awake now to drift off.

  Sugar bounced around his feet demanding attention, so he dressed in shorts and t-shirt, clipped on her little pink lead and took her for a walk around the street. The fact that his girly dog was dressed in pink and his friends laughed didn’t worry Marty at all. There were worse things happening in the world, and if Sugar was happy, so was he.

  If he could figure out the issue of Belle, he’d be even happier.

  As he walked along, he dwelled on the previous days happenings. Belle leaving had surprised him, though he could understand why she did it, but what he didn’t understand was his reaction to it. He’d gone upstairs simply to say goodbye. At least that had been the intention at the forefront of his mind. Who knew what had been simmering in the back of his mind, because one look at her with her eyes snapping fire had had his libido firing up in turn. Meaning to claim one kiss, it had burnt totally out of control.

  Totally.

  Holy cow, totally.

  Her lush body was so soft against him, generous curves nestled close and the sweet scent of her inflaming his senses. He felt like he could drown in those brilliant pools of green, those eyes that held so much passion and sorrow and confusion. And heat.

  God, the heat. That lush body was all heat.

  And now she was going home. Just that knowledge alone had him cutting short the walk and heading for home, much to Sugar’s indignation, which he fixed by cradling her in his arms as he walked the last block home. Lying back in his arms, little feet dangling, she’d happily watched the world go past.

  A quick shower and he should have been in the car and off to his parent’s mansion in time to talk Belle out of leaving straight away. He wanted to explore this startling turn in their relationship a lot more. But then his business phone had rung, curse it, and he’d been stuck dealing with last minute hitches, resulting in several other calls he had to make, none of which he could do in the car on his mobile while driving.

  By the time he’d sorted everything out and finished the calls, it was getting late. A dash to his car and his hopes dashed in turn as it refused to start. Not wasting time, he’d called a taxi and now here he stood waiting for the taxi which was running late.

  Glancing at his watch, he swore. It was now going on for ten fifteen. He’d have to hot-foot it to the airport terminal instead of his parent’s house.

  The taxi finally pulled in and he practically threw himself into the backseat. “The domestic airport and don’t spare the horses!”

  The driver backed out onto the street. “Late?”

  “Whatever gave you that idea?” Marty phoned his parent’s house and his mother answered on the third ring. “Mum, has Belle left?” Stupid question.

  “Yes, dear. Why? Is something wrong?”

  “No.” Yes. Maybe. Shit, he didn’t really know. Talk about confused. “Do you have her mobile phone number?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  Damn.

  “Okay.”

  “Marty, are you sure everything is all right?”

  “Its fine, Mum.”

  “Okay. Your father is going to be at the office today. Cindy has the background paperwork on the Rawlins franchise and he wants to go through it with you and see what you think.”

  “No worries. I’ll be there by twelve. Gotta go, Mum. See you.” He flicked the phone shut and leaned back in the seat, watching the houses flash by as the taxi continued onwards.

  At the rate they were going, he’d be bloody lucky to even find Belle in the terminal.

  Even that hope, however, was dashed when the taxi was forced to halt due to a traffic jam. With a mental groan, Marty slumped back and closed his eyes.

  “Guess you’re not going to make the airport in time after all,” the taxi driver commented easily. “What time is your plane?”

  “It leaves at eleven.”

  “Huh.” The taxi driver checked his watch. “Hate to tell you this…”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m missing the plane.” Goddamn it.

  “You might want to call ahead and see if you can get the next flight.”

  “It’s not my plane.”

  “Meeting someone?”

  “Seeing them off.” Not wanting to talk anymore, Marty moodily stared out of the window.

  Damn it, damn it, damn it. After a few minutes of silence he relaxed and sighed. Maybe it was for the best. He didn’t really know Belle, he’d probably feel a lot differently in a day or two. He just had to give it a day or so, get back into his routine, and the memory of Belle would fade. The kiss was magical, sure, but maybe it wasn’t as magical as he remembered it. Maybe…

  Maybe he was just an idiot.

  What was he doing, anyway? Chasing after a woman he didn’t know, his usual smooth self vanishing to be replaced with going all caveman the previous night and ordering her to wait for him, and now he was chasing her plane.

  Not cool. Not cool at all.

  The mobile rang and he flipped it open. Work. Just what he needed.

  He was still chatting on it when a jet roared overhead and unable to help himself, he checked his watch. Five past eleven. Belle’s plane? More than likely.

  He didn’t even want to try and interpret the little fall deep inside his stomach.

  That’d teach him to miss breakfast.

  ~*~

  Wednesday evening, Marty walked into the gym and made his way to the workout room. Around him people sweated on treadmills and other exercise apparatus. He walked between them all, not even aware of the women eyeing him admiringly as he progressed.

  Going through a doorway into another huge room, he noted the aerobics class going on at the far end, the heavy beat of music filling the air. A quick glance over as he approached the weight area had him relieved to see that Marcia wasn’t attending the evening class. At least one thing in his personal life was going right.

  Spotting Alan picking up some dumbbells, he walked over to him.

  “Hey,” Alan said.

  “Hey,” Marty replied. “Mike here?”

  “Yeah. He’s over there bench pressing a cow.” Alan gestured to where Mike, his fellow cop and Tim’s friend, and hence now also Marty’s friend, was lying back on a bench, his massive muscles bulging under weights that probably did weigh as much as a whole cow.

  Marty looked back at Alan. “What are you lifting?”

  “Half a cow.” Alan’s gaze wandered back to the group of svelte women in leotards and sweats, bouncing around to the beat of music and dutifully obeying the aerobics instructor.

  Marty eyed the weights Alan held in each hand and estimated they were about five kilos each. “Really.”

  “Okay, a quarter then. Why quibble?”

  “I don’t know how you manage to ogle women so lewdly and never get thrown out.”

  “I’m a cop. I’m protecting them.”

  “How can you protect them from yourself?”

  “Let’s not get into puzzles, Marty, you’ll pull a mental muscle.” Alan slid a look his way as Marty dusted off his hands and picked up a heavy weight, making his biceps and triceps flex and bunch impressively. “Hmmm.”

  “What?” Marty curled his arm as he brought one of the weights up.

  “Where’s The Other Woman?”

  A muscle ticked in Marty’s jaw. “Who?”

  “You know. Belle.”

  “Belle’s gone home.” Stopping in the act of bringing the weight close to his chest, Marty’s eye narrowed. “And you say nothing to anyone.”

  “Ooohh.” Alan’s grin widened.

  “Ooohh nothing.” Marty pointed at him with one weight. “You haven’t been shooting off your mouth, have you?”

  Alan was insulted. “Hey, what kind of a bloke do you think I am?”

  “You don’t want to know that.”

  “Listen, I’m a copper. That means I know when to keep my mouth shut.” Alan grunted as he tried to lift his weight straight out. “I think
they’ve got the wrong weight marked on this thing.”

  “No,” Mike said from behind him. “It’s only five kilos.”

  “I think you’re wrong. It’s at least fifteen.”

  Grabbing one of the weights, Mike waved it around effortlessly before handing it back to Alan. “No, it’s five all right.”

  “Show off.” Alan proceeded to half-heartedly lift the weight, his gaze sliding once more towards Marty. “Lawson here has a problem.”

  “What?” Marty’s head snapped up.

  “He has feelings.” Alan nodded solemnly.

  Mike regarded Marty steadily. “Got a problem, Lawson?”

  “No.” Marty scowled at Alan.

  Alan simpered. “He’s fallen for this big chick who-”

  “Call her a big chick once more and we’ll see how you go swallowing five kilos,” Marty growled.

  “Struck a nerve, did I?” Alan laughed right before he took another look at Marty’s face and his jaw dropped. “Holy shit.”

  Realising that Alan was staring at him, Marty sighed. “Now what’s wrong with you?”

  “You’ve fallen for the big chick.”

  “What?”

  “Belle. The Other Woman. Hot damn, Lawson, you’ve fallen for her!”

  Replacing the weights on the bench, Marty shook his head. “Have you been sucking on the exhaust pipe of your car?”

  “I can see it, man.” Alan dropped his much lighter weights on the bench.

  Still shaking his head, Marty glanced at Mike. “You shouldn’t let him lift weights in front of the aerobics class, Mike. Everything goes to his head.”

  Mike just regarded him steadily.

  Straightening, Marty frowned. “What?”

  “You sweet on the lady?” Mike asked.

  “Sweet on the lady? Who?”

  “This Belle lady.”

  “Belle? Good God, no.” Marty couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t like he was dreaming about her…much. “What gave you that idea?”

  Mike exchanged glances with Alan, who smirked.

  “Oh for - seriously? You’re going to believe Alan?” Rolling his shoulders, Marty turned and surveyed the weights. Falling for Belle? Where did Alan get such a stupid idea? Cripes, he’d only thought of her a couple of times since she left. No big deal. “I’m not sweet on Belle or anyone else.”

 

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