The Lawson Boys: Marty

by Angela Verdenius

  Cleo came around the corner of the doorway, her pink nose twitching as she smelled the food. Mrs Broune picked her up, cooing, and Cleo started purring but continued to eyeball the containers of food that were going onto the table.

  “Here.” Mr Broune fished in his pants pocket and came out with a little tin. “I’ve got you sorted, cat.”

  Cleo took one look at the tin and started wriggling in Mrs Broune’s arms. With a sigh, she put her down. “I don’t know why I bother holding her when your father comes. That cat just knows he always has something for her.”

  Laughing, Belle watched as her father opened the tin of salmon and tipped it into Cleo’s bowl. It was ritual repeated almost every time he came to the house.

  “Just doing it so she doesn’t bother us.” Mr Broune tossed the empty tin into the bin. “Damned cat.”

  Tough talk for a man who bought the damned cat a Christmas present every year.

  Holly placed the vase of orchids on the kitchen bench and they all sat down. No sooner had they started dishing up than again the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it.” Mrs Broune, ever the mother, gestured to the containers. “It’ll get cold.”

  Belle was contemplating a dish of noodles when voices sounded. She froze at the deep tones. Surely not? She looked up and across the room, right into the brilliant blue eyes of Marty Lawson as he followed her mother into the kitchen.

  “It’s Diana’s boy!” Mrs Broune beamed with pleasure. “He’s come for lunch.”

  “He has?” Holly glanced meaningfully at Belle.

  Mouth hanging open in surprise, Belle stared at him.

  Marty held up a bag with the same Chinese takeaway logo on it. “Room for more?”

  “Absolutely,” Mrs Broune replied.

  Getting to his feet, Mr Broune held out his hand as Marty approached. “I’m Belle’s father, Howard.”

  “Mr Broune.” Smiling, Marty shook his hand.

  “Howard, please.”

  “My parents always brought me up to respect my elders, Mr Broune, especially if they were close to my family.”

  Belle couldn’t believe it. Marty Lawson was in her kitchen, charming her parents, oozing good ol’ boy charisma, and making her blood heat just by looking at him in his jeans and t-shirt and remembering how hard and strong his body was above her…behind her…pushing into her-

  A kick to her shins had her wincing.

  “Get a grip,” Holly whispered.

  Shaking her head, she pushed her shock - and lustful thoughts - aside and rose to her feet.

  Marty, already coming around the table, stunned her by brushing a kiss across her cheek before taking one of the spare chairs Mr Broune handed to him and neatly placing it beside Belle’s, politely forcing Holly to shuffle around next to Mrs Broune.

  Her parents hadn’t missed the kiss he’d given her, and she knew that though too polite to ask about that now, she’d be getting a grilling later, mostly from her mother.

  Great, just great. She sank back onto the chair.

  Placing the bag on the table, Marty sat down. “I’ve brought quite a bit, so there’s plenty for all.”

  “Big appetite?” Belle couldn’t help but ask, glancing sideways at him.

  “As you know,” he returned, facing her fully and grinning.

  To anyone else that grin appeared friendly, but going by that gleam in his eyes that was just for her alone, it was more…predatory.

  Belle blushed. Again. And damn it, that blush hadn’t escaped her mother’s notice. The grilling to come was getting hotter.

  “We had dinner in the city,” Belle rushed to inform her mother.

  “But she has yet to see exactly what I can eat and how much,” Marty informed them, but the way he cut his eyes to her with a very lustful glint in them made her almost squirm in her chair.

  Surely he couldn’t possibly mean…? Catching sight of Holly giving herself a discreet little face fanning, Belle swallowed. Oh cripes, he did mean something a lot more carnal than food eating.

  Looking away, she forked noodles onto her plate before replacing the container on the table.

  “Here.” Taking the bag from Marty, Mrs Broune put the containers on the table and hurried to get him a plate and cutlery.

  “Thank you, Mrs Broune.” Taking the plate, he smiled warmly at her mother.

  Utterly charmed, her mother got him a cold Diet Coke and even popped the tab before placing it on the table before him along with a glass.

  Turning to Mr Broune, who was watching closely, Marty said, “I couldn’t help but notice that you drive a Subaru. That model isn’t made anymore, which is such a shame. It was one of the best around.”

  Oh great, he just had to touch on her car-mad father’s favourite hobby. Way to win him over.

  Almost brooding, Belle bit into a piece of honeyed chicken. When she glanced up, Holly’s eyes were laughing. Traitor.

  Listening to the conversation, Belle had to admit that Marty had a winning way. He managed to draw her not-so-car-mad mother into the conversation of cars and had a lively debate going on within minutes. A few words thrown at Holly and motorbikes entered the conversation.

  Silently Belle continued to eat, listening with half an ear and wondering what the hell Marty was planning, because if he thought for one second that winning over her parents would make Belle willing to throw herself under him again, he had another think coming.

  Just the thought of being under him again…oh boy. Her blood warmed. Because he was sitting right beside her, she couldn’t help but notice how expressive he was with his hands. Those big hands with long, dexterous fingers, that gestured with such masculine grace. The t-shirt fitted him snugly, outlining the heavy muscles of his chest, and even though she refused to look directly at it, out of the corner of her vision she couldn’t help but notice the muscles in his arms bunching as he moved them. Bunching impressively.

  So strong, holding her so easily, positioning her to his satisfaction, ensuring she had satisfaction in return, controlling her as he pushed her higher…

  Now she was the one fanning herself, albeit mentally.

  “That’s a wonderful idea. Isn’t it, Belle? Belle?”

  Registering finally that her mother was speaking to her, Belle looked up. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Isn’t it a wonderful idea?”

  Belle looked blankly at her.

  “Sweetie,” her mother said patiently, “haven’t you been listening to anything?”

  “No,” she replied truthfully. I was too busy thinking lustful thoughts.

  A hard knee nudged against her thigh and she jumped.

  “Sorry,” Marty said innocently when she turned to glare at him. “Didn’t mean to bump you.”

  Right. His face was all politeness, but his eyes sparkled with a definitely naughty-boy gleam.

  “No worries.” She nudged him back a little more forcefully and the gleam in his eyes grew hotter.

  Oops. Flustered, she switched her attention to her mother. “What did I miss?”

  “Marty was just saying how he was going to ask you to show him the sights while he’s here.”

  So that was his plan. “There’s not much to see.”

  Now her mother looked a little pained. “He did show you some of the city.’

  Sure, like the pub where her photo was taken. But knowing that her mother was now feeling a little embarrassed by Belle’s less than enthusiastic response, and no way could she hurt her mother, Belle turned to Marty and smiled, but only with her mouth. “But even so, I’ll show you what there is.”

  “Delightful.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Do you think I’ve seen the best yet?”

  She ignored the double meaning. “I only have this afternoon and tomorrow, though. I start work on Monday.”

  “I’ll take what I can get.” The twinkle in his eyes was somehow - how the hell could a twinkle be dirty? “I’m sure we can fit a lot in.”

  Holy cow.

  �
�I’ll make sure of it,” he added, and before she could think of a cutting retort that wouldn’t alert her parents to something going on - and there was no way on God’s green earth that anything was going on between her and the Lawson boy - he switched his attention to Holly. “So, do you have a car as well or is the motorbike your only pride and joy?”

  Within seconds the chatter was on again between everyone at the table, except Belle, who was engaged in trying to unobtrusively shift her legs because a hard thigh was now brushing against hers.

  She nearly jumped out of her seat when he suddenly rested his arm along the back of her chair and leaned towards her, looking her directly in the eyes as he asked, “Ride with me?”

  Ride with him? She swallowed. He’d already ridden her, twice, and…His sudden knowing grin made her want to bloody well slap it right off his handsome face.

  He gave her a wink, hiding it from her parents by reaching up and pushing back the hank of thick blonde hair that would insist on falling over his brow. “Or we can take your car.”

  Of course he’d been talking about cars. Riding in cars. Oh, how she wished she could just fall in a hole right now and pull it down on top of herself. But refusing to relinquish her calm façade, she smiled. “My car.”

  “Ah, a woman who likes to be in control.” Marty grinned at her father. “Isn’t that always the way?”

  This produced good-natured ribbing between her parents.

  Belle couldn’t help but notice that Marty kept his arm on the back of her chair, his big body angled towards her, his masculine scent invading her senses and scrambling her brains.

  The only way to escape his lethal zone was to stand up and start gathering the empty plates.

  Immediately Holly followed. “You stay there, Mrs B. I’ll help Belle clear away.”

  “Thank you, sweetie.”

  Bending forward to pick up Marty’s plate and cutlery, Belle froze when she felt a hand brush across the side of her ample bottom. How dare he take liberties? He would dare, though, because he was doing it while her parents were focussed on each other as they discussed their plans for the rest of the day. She gave him a glare before straightening and stepping back out of reach of those wandering hands.

  He gave her an innocent look in return.

  Safely behind the counter, she filled the sink with hot, soapy water and wondered how the hell she was going to get through the remainder of the weekend in his company.

  “We have to go, Pumpkin.” Her father stacked the empty containers in the bin. “Your Mum wants to go shopping. Again.”

  “If you didn’t eat everything in the house, sweetie, I wouldn’t have to shop for food so often.” Mrs Broune patted Belle’s cheek. “Have a great weekend, Belle.”

  Going by the gleam in her mother’s eyes, it was clear what she was hoping.

  Mentally rolling her eyes - she was doing a lot of that today and if she weren’t careful, they’d roll clear out of her head - Belle started to put the sponge down. “I’ll see you out.”

  “No need.” Marty got up. “I’ll see you out, Mr and Mrs Broune. Least I can do for allowing me to share food with you all.”

  “Such a gentleman,” Mrs Broune cooed.

  Belle narrowed her eyes at Marty behind her parent’s backs and he winked in return as he followed them from the kitchen.

  Picking up the tea towel, Holly whispered, “Good grief, the man is sex on two legs!”

  “Huh.”

  “Did you see the size of his muscles? Oh my God, I think he has a piercing in his nipple. Oh, Belle, you lucky girl. He’s a bad boy!”

  Belle stared hard at her. “Finished?”

  “Bad boys are so hot.”

  Belle sighed.

  “I bet the sex was hard.”

  “Holly!” she hissed.

  “Bad boys always know how to do hard sex. Make the tongue fall out of a girl’s mouth.”

  “Geez.”

  “Speaking of mouths, did he-”

  “No!” Her blood went all hot and thick at just the thought.

  “Never mind, I’m sure he soon will.” Holly leered. “Tonight?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Maybe I should give you some lessons on oral sex.”

  There was no way her mouth just watered. Grappling to subdue the picture that rose in her mind of doing it to Marty, she snapped, “Oh for-”

  “No doubt he knows what to do, but you? Sweet cheeks, you haven’t sucked on a-”

  “I’m not talking to you anymore. Dry the bloody dishes and go home.”

  “Was his - you know…” Winking, Holly held out one arm and bent it at the elbow, easing her forearm up and down suggestively. “Big?”

  Rolling her eyes, Belle grabbed the sponge. His shaft had felt huge, but she wasn’t about to tell Holly that.

  “I bet it is. If he stood up, we’d probably see the outline of his co-”

  “Holly.”

  “Outline of my what?” The cheerful, deep voice came from directly behind her and she dropped the sponge in the sink.

  Oh yeah, that muscled chest was pressed against her back now, one big arm coming over her shoulder to pick up the sponge and hold it out to her. She snatched it from him and with relief felt him shift back. Her nerves were rioting at just his nearness. Good grief, she had to get a grip!

  “Muscles,” Holly replied, unfazed. “I couldn’t help but notice how ripped you are. Into weight lifting, obviously?”

  “Yep.”

  “Any particular reason?” Belle asked sardonically, now that her parents had left and not worried what her friend thought. “Or do you find it attracts the sheilas?”

  There was silence for several seconds and she could swear she felt his eyes burning two holes in the back of her head, but his voice was it’s usual cheerful tone when he replied, “Actually, I was a scrawny kid who was shamed into it by a girl I was sweet on.”

  “What a bitch,” Holly stated.

  “I’d say she made me what I am today, but that wouldn’t take into account my other experiences.”

  “I bet.” Belle placed a freshly washed plate in the drainer.

  Picking up the plate, Holly leaned back against the sink. “And the nipple piercing?”

  “Another legacy of a misspent youth.”

  Marty sounded nearer and she could swear his lethal zone was again crowding her aura. A glance behind her showed him leaning back against the counter within an easy arms-reach of her. She returned her gaze to the sink.

  “I was trying to impress a Goth chick,” Marty continued. “Luckily I only got the nipple pierced.”

  Holly smirked.

  “Hey, don’t laugh. It bloody hurt.”

  “But you kept it,” she pointed out.

  “It grew on me. Plus it gave my mother a cow when she saw it. That was amusing on its own.” Marty laughed.

  Why was it no surprise to Belle that Marty had been a handful when he was younger? Now she could remember her mother reading bits out of Mrs Lawson’s letters years ago. Oh yeah, she could understand fully now.

  “No hankering to take it out now that you’re a big boy?” Holly queried.

  “Not at all. I like it.”

  Placing the last dish in the drainer, Belle started on the cutlery. Yeah, she rather liked the piercing too, if she was honest. It added a rough, tough air to him, clasped securely in that brown nipple that topped off that heavy swell of pectoral muscle. Oh God, yes…

  Blowing a stray curl back from her eyes, she plunked the cutlery in the drainer and pulled the plug.

  Marty was still talking to Holly about misspent youths and the stories they swapped of mischievous deeds would normally have made Belle laugh, but she was more intent on shifting from Marty’s lethal zone. It was wrapping its perverted tendrils around her, trying to draw her in.

  Or maybe it was her over-heated imagination.

  Marty snagged her around the waist as she made to move past him, easily yanking her into his side, tucking her in
securely as he looked down at her, his blue eyes twinkling devilishly. “And what about Belle, Holly? Was she a bad girl, too?”

  Not in the least surprised by Marty’s move, but not particularly wanting to put on a display in front of her friend who was watching with interest, Belle glared up at him. “No.” God, did his body have to feel so warm and strong and protective? Yummy? Now she was directly in his lethal zone. Uh-oh.

  “It’s true.” Holly dried the cutlery as she spoke, dropping them into the appropriate slots in the cutlery drawer. “Belle was always the good girl, always neat and clean, tidy, sweet, helping everyone.”

  “I can see that.” His gaze turned thoughtful, drifting across her face. “Did you not once do something bad?”

  Holly grinned when Belle shook her head. “Liar.” When Marty raised his brows at her, Holly continued, “I was being teased the first day we met and she tripped up the boy who pulled my hair. We both ended up in the principal’s office.”

  “Bad girl after all.” His eyes twinkled.

  “Belle always stood up for me,” Holly said staunchly.

  “You did the same,” Belle reminded her.

  “Been best mates since we were kids.”

  “The best kind.” Marty gave Belle’s waist a little squeeze.

  That made all sorts of hot zings go through her veins to her loins. After all, the last time he had a grip on her, she’d been bent over the counter with him behind her. That didn’t do her determination to remain calm any good. She had to get away from him before her knees started sagging.

  She was saved from shoving away by Cleo, who came around the corner of the counter, took one look at Marty, gave a happy ‘mrrp!’ and fell over onto her back. Releasing Belle, Marty squatted down and proceeded to rub her belly, telling her the whole time what a sexy little beast she was, which made Holly laugh and Belle, in a few seconds of insanity, wish she was lying on her back with Marty rubbing her and telling her what a sexy little beast she was. However, she was neither sexy, a beast, little, or about to lie on her back for him, so she used the moment to move away from him with dignity intact. Unlike Cleo, who didn’t give a hoot about dignity, her furry belly proffered for Marty’s skilled stroking and her purrs rattling through the kitchen in unabandoned bliss.