The Lawson Boys: Marty

by Angela Verdenius

  “You’re holding me, so I guess…yes?” When he didn’t reply, the silence growing longer, Belle was wise enough to now recognise his tactic of forcing someone to face the truth. He just let them stew in what he’d told them and he didn’t argue.

  He spoke the truth.

  “I believe you.” She smiled, relaxing a little, the fact making her happier, but it didn’t stop her own insecurities.

  With the skill of a man used to reading faces and body language and going by his own gut instinct, Marty titled his head slightly. “Okay, so the problem is yours.”

  She sighed. “I guess so.”

  “No worries.” Just as quick, his smile flashed across his face. “We’ll work on that together.”

  “We can always turn the lights off like Tre-” Horrified at what she’d just said, bringing in another man’s name right into the moment between them, Belle gasped at Marty’s frown. “Oh Marty, I’m so sorry, I-”

  “He turned off the lights when you made love?” He growled.

  “I…well…I asked and…Please, I’m sorry I brought it up.” Cheeks burning, she bit her lip.

  “Trevor is an arsehole.” A muscle in Marty’s jaw flexed. “I’m telling you right now, Belle, there will be no hiding anything between us. Ever.”

  “But maybe to start with-”

  “No.” His tone was resolute. “I won’t have you thinking I don’t love your body. I want you to know that I’m making love to you, not a fantasy.”

  That thought had never crossed her mind, her eyebrows rising in surprise.

  “You’ll see every part of me, Belle, and I’ll see every part of you.”

  Cringe factor right there. Belle winced.

  His palm lightly smacking her bottom cut off her thoughts. She gaped up at him. “Did you just smack me?”

  “A warning tap, woman,” he growled. “Right now I’m starting to feel all caveman and if Alan wasn’t about to come back at any minute, I’d rip your clothes off and feast both eyes and mouth on you.”

  That had her blush flaring brighter. Not to mention her heart rate shot up. And her knees went a little weak. Holy cow. Marty going all caveman was a bit of a turn-on.

  Okay, a lot of a turn-on.

  “I’m warning you right now.” His eyes glittered with heat and darkness. “No lights off, no hiding. I’ll teach you to love your body if it kills me, and it probably will, at the same time I’m going to be exploring you and making you mine, marking you any way I can.” His slow smile was smooth and wicked. “Inside and out.”

  God above, she was going to have a heart attack any minute. Her heart was pounding out a delighted tattoo at his words and the decadent gleam in his eyes.

  “And Belle.” His voice was now all dangerous silk.

  “Y-yes?”

  “You ever dare to tell me that I don’t love your curves and you won’t be sitting for a week.” The threat was accompanied by another light smack to her derriere.

  Oh God, that both thrilled and chilled her. Deliciously so. Oh God, I am a pervert! A second thought hit her. Yay! Oh my God, Marty’s perverting me. Yay! Oh no. And then he was kissing her, hot and deep and totally decadent, and all she could think was Oh yeah! Heck yeah!

  By the time he stopped, her senses were reeling deliciously and her knees were weak. She’d never met a man who could make her knees so damned weak. Fingers hooked into his shirt, she leaned against him in drowsy, heated pleasure.

  Marty smiled down at her. “Belle?”

  “Mmmm?”

  “Care to explain this now?” He held up a piece of paper, one that had been crumpled at some time.

  “What’s that?”

  “Here, let me read it to you.” One arm around her waist, obviously very content to keep her snuggled against him, Marty read out with obvious relish, “‘Need Your Virginity restored? Call now!’”

  The delicious haze surrounding Belle vanished. “What the - where did you get that?”

  “It was in the console of your car.” Neatly evading her snatching hand, he held the offending piece of paper up out of her reach. “Interesting. Honey, were you thinking of reclaiming your cherry? Because I didn’t think it could be done.”

  “What? No!”

  “Be a waste of time anyway.” Grinning widely, he added, “I’d just pop it again.”

  Her cheeks flared.

  “So,” he drawled, enjoying himself way too much. “Care to explain this?”

  “I went shopping and some idiot left it under my windscreen wipers.”

  “Really?” He studied the paper, his eyes twinkling. “Going by the little heart shapes in place of the dots atop the letters ‘i’, and the rounded hand writing, I think you’ve been conned by teenagers.”

  One lunge up and she managed to rip the paper from his grasp. Crumpling it in her hand, she glared at him.

  He looked back down at her, his eyes dancing with laughter, his deep laughter rumbling in his chest. Her lips twitched, the humour of the moment sliding over her, and before she knew it she was laughing with him.

  Gathering her close, Marty chuckled into her neck, tickling and heating her at the same time. “Oh honey, you are so easy.”

  “Apparently so.” She snuggled closer.

  His hand tapped her bottom lightly. “I meant as in teasing.”

  “Only with you, oddly enough.”

  “My sister and brother find me odd.”

  “They’d know.”

  Another tap on her behind. Cripes, if he kept that up, she’d be all over him like cream on a sponge cake. “Do you mind?”

  “Not at all. Like it, in fact.” Another tap, then he rubbed lightly. “I like doing this, too.”

  It was so absurd that she started laughing again.

  His hand drifted lower, cupping under one generous bottom cheek, halting her amusement as heat flooded through her.

  Marty’s voice deepened. “How about we explore this a little further?”

  Oh yeah, that sounded just right. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Oh baby, just leave yourself in my hands and-”

  The sound of the front door opening was accompanied by Alan’s voice. “Hey. Sorry to interrupt.”

  Belle would have leaped out of Marty’s arms but his hold on her didn’t relax. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Alan enter with Sugar tucked under one arm. She couldn’t stop the bush filling her cheeks, but Alan just flopped down onto the sofa and Sugar spilled into his lap. She jumped off with an excited yap and hurtled around the sofa, her one bright eye fixed on Marty.

  “Look out.” Marty released her. “Sugar’s like a little rocket.” The tiny poodle launched herself up at Marty, who caught her with an ease that proved it was an old routine between them. Holding the excited dog in one arm, her little tongue licking his chin, Marty smiled ruefully at Belle. “Um...sorry.”

  Amused, Belle reached out to let Sugar sniff her hand. “Because of the dog?”

  “No. Alan.”

  “Yeah,” said Alan from his slouched position on the sofa. “I heard that.”

  “He’s a good friend,” Marty continued, ignoring him. “But shit with timing.”

  Alan managed to rouse himself enough to flip Marty off before picking up the remote and again flicking the TV onto the football game. “I gave you privacy. I took your dinky dog out for a walk. I’m a great friend.”

  “You could have stayed out longer. A lot longer.”

  Alan grinned over his shoulder, his gaze going from Belle to Marty. “Oh ho!”

  “Yeah, oh ho.” Marty frowned at him. “If I have to, I’ll pay you to go away for the afternoon.”

  “There’s not much left of the afternoon.” Feeling shy around his friend’s obvious knowledge of what was transpiring between them, Belle scratched an ecstatic Sugar behind the ears and sought to change the subject. “What happened to her face?”

  All amusement left Marty as he looked down at Sugar. “I was driving home late one night and she came runni
ng out of the bushes near a house. The car in front of me hit her, dragged her under the car for a couple feet before he could stop. She was a mess. Eye hanging out, face all torn up, bleeding.” He smoothed her ears, rewarded by the lick of her tiny pink tongue. “I rang Tim and he took care of her. The microchip she had gave us the owner’s number, but it turned out she’d died and her nephew had inherited everything. He didn’t want the dog, however, couldn’t care less about her. He was happy for her to be put to sleep.” Marty’s mouth tightened. “I bought her from him.”

  “Bought her?” Belle repeated, surprised. “But he didn’t want her, he could have just given her to you.”

  “Not once the greedy bastard saw how much Marty cared,” Alan said from the sofa. “I was with him that night. That prick asked an exorbitant price and old softie here paid it without a quibble. Now he’s got a girly dog he dresses in pink clips and ribbons, with a pink collar and lead. The cushion in her basket is even pink. Your man is touched in the head.”

  Your man. Just the words made her feel warm.

  “You can talk,” Marty said. “You were threatening to do a cavity search on him when you found out what had happened. You’re just lucky he never heard you or he’d have made a formal complaint.”

  Alan just waved this away and subsided into silence, absorbed once more in the football game.

  Looking at the tall, muscular, devastatingly handsome man holding the tiny poodle gently in his big hands, Belle felt the warmth inside her expand, flowing out, filling her.

  Marty truly was a special man.

  She just hoped she could live up to a man like that.

  He glanced up, his blue eyes inquiring. “What?”

  Belle smiled. “Think Sugar and Cleo will get on?”

  “Hey, they’ll both have me. What’s not to be happy about?”

  “Modesty,” Alan drawled, “Thy name is Martin Lawson.”

  “Alan,” Marty retorted, “Thy name is Dog Sitter.”

  Alan groaned.

  Crossing to the sofa, Marty handed Sugar over to Alan, who took the wriggling poodle with a resigned air.

  “Belle and I are going out,” Marty said, “and Sugar is staying with her Uncle Alan, aren’t you, diddums?”

  Alan held Sugar up and studied her. “Well, diddums, we’re having Kentucky Fried Chicken tonight. You might get the shits from the herbs and guess who’s going to clean it up? Not Uncle Alan, that’s for sure.”

  Marty swatted Alan lightly across the back of his head. “Take the crumbs off the chicken, give her only the meat. It’s a treat.”

  Alan leered at him. “Going out all night?”

  Marty’s eyes darkened as he looked across the room at Belle.

  She blushed. Oh boy.

  “I’m for sure going to be late.” His eyes heated. “Really late.”

  Chapter 8

  Waiting in Belle’s lounge room while she changed her clothes into something a little more appropriate for dinner, Marty had time to clear his head and rein in his libido. He was determined to court her with the diligence of a suitor from the respectable days of a bygone era. Well, for him, anyway. He was used to sex on tap, almost. He’d never had trouble finding a pretty partner, an eager participant in sharing an enjoyable few hours followed by gratifying sex.

  But Belle was different. He wanted to prove to her that this was more than just amusing himself, more than a quick date and sex. More than just about him. More than just about her. It was them.

  Tonight he’d wine and dine her, and tomorrow he’d commence the fine art of wooing, starting with flowers and a box of chocolates, taking her to the finest restaurant again that the town had to offer, and set about convincing her that he was the man for her.

  He started off just fine, being his usual charming self, witty if he did say so, making her laugh, making her eyes sparkle, making himself feel pretty pleased with how things were going between them. He chatted about everything under the sun to cure her of her sudden shyness - his job, his plans for the future, his parents, his siblings, his dog Sugar, her cat Cleo, her plans, her life. Flowers, gardens, anything he could think of, and he was rewarded by her relaxing, her speech becoming more natural, the laughter in her eyes.

  Yes, he started off just fine, but her laughter was a warm balm to his ears, her sparkling eyes sucked him into the brilliant depths, her lips were so plump and juicy looking, and her cleavage - dear God save him, but he wanted to dive right in there and have a wallow in that generous bosom. He might not be able to make out the outline of her nipple - clearly the woman had some serious heavy-duty bras - but the curves of that luscious bosom just about had his tongue falling out of his head.

  Manfully he fought to keep his eyes from wandering downwards, not wanting her to get the wrong idea, but holy cow, was it a battle. Especially when he thought about what lay lower and how she’d felt when he’d sunk deep inside her, all hot and wet and tight.

  Women might be able to multi-task, but Marty could do it with the best of them. He managed to think about her ample, luscious body and the secrets hidden from his sight, as well as keep up a witty conversation, even if now and again his voice did grow a little husky with leashed desire. It was admirable considering how much his stiffening shaft ached.

  Finally he was taking her home in his rental car, and then he was in her house and kissing her, making her giggle, taking her in his arms.

  Yep, dinner was nice. The restaurant was nice. The evening was nice. But right now was bloody awesome, in his opinion. The best part of the evening, in fact, because he had Belle right where he wanted her - in his arms.

  Half naked.

  Hot and sweet and curvy.

  Silken skin and sizzling passion.

  To be truthful, he’d half imagined that he’d be able to stop after just a kiss and cuddle and leave her wanting more, while he manfully proved himself capable of controlling his libido for a few more days to prove to her that…well, it didn’t matter now because that resolve was shot to hell. However, he could be gentle with her, that much she deserved.

  Good intentions.

  However, one kiss, one caress, and heat was building. Belle’s little hand foraging curiously under his shirt to splay along his spine and her other sliding down the back of his jeans had hot sparks sputtering along his nerve endings, and when the tip of her tongue touched his lips, well, Jesus, he nigh on exploded.

  He tried to be gentle, tried to be considerate, but Belle seemed to have a natural instinct at finding and pushing some of his erogenous buttons. The sensitive nerves along his spine had her fingertips trailing up them. Her nails scraped lightly across his buttocks beneath his briefs. A soft thigh was rubbed against his and nudging higher to press lightly against his scrotum.

  For sure her knee wasn’t pressing against his shaft, because that was hard and pressed between their bodies.

  Nipping at his lips, she made him seek her mouth, dodging him when he got too close, laughing softly, teasing, stoking his flames until he growled and tangled his fingers in her hair, holding her mouth still so that he could plunder deep, taking mercilessly, wanting to master her and be gentle all at once.

  “Belle.” He was actually panting when he lifted his mouth, something he’d never been reduced to so fast in his entire history of sex - and it was a considerable history. Looking down into her sweetly flushed face, he almost groaned when she licked her soft, swollen lips. “Jesus, don’t.”

  “What?” Her breath was a warm puff across his mouth and he could swear he felt that swirl of air enter him to dance teasingly along his tongue.

  “I’m trying to be gentle. To take it slow.”

  “Really?” She peeked up at him from beneath thick eyelashes. “Why?”

  “Because.” He gritted his teeth.

  “I thought this is what you wanted.” Her nails scraping down his spine had him arching slightly.

  “I do. Christ, I really do. But I’m trying to make our first time special.”

 
“Our first time? Our first time was across the kitchen bench.” Cheeks flushing, her gaze went a little shy. “That was …special.”

  How he loved that about her. Equal parts bold and shy, she was such a sweet woman, yet he knew there was a passionate minx lurking beneath the surface just waiting for the right man to break her free.

  He was the right man and he sure as hell was going to break her free, but he’d had it all planned. Dinner, a nice drive, a kiss leading to more, restraint, courting and then more, until finally he had her flat on her back beneath him and was driving into her - after, of course, first having driven her mad with teasing kisses and licking. A lot of licking. Everywhere. Slowly. But damn it, here he was, a couple of kisses, a few caresses, and he was so hard he could have pounded nails into wood with his shaft.

  Holy cow, this had never happened to him before in his life.

  Closing his eyes, he gritted his teeth. Be calm. Be cool. You can do this. You’re not a freakin’ virgin, you can hold on. Be cool!

  “I liked how you took me across the bench.”

  That husky announcement had his eyes popping open.

  “I like how you took control.”

  His gaze fell to find her looking shyly up at him, the desire and determination in her bright green eyes telling him how hard she was trying to be honest with him, that in itself an aphrodisiac.

  “Don’t you want to take control now?” she whispered.

  “God yes.” Oh God yes.

  “So why are you…you know?” She moved back just a little, a tiny cloud of doubt filling her eyes. “Have you changed your mind?” She swallowed, the desire in her eyes fading a little. “It’s okay, I-”

  No bloody way! The caveman inside him howled at her retreat, not liking it one bit. Not one bloody bit. She’s all mine and I’m going to make sure she know it, make sure she never doubts it again.

  Grabbing her upper arms, Marty almost let his carnal side have free rein, holding on only just long enough to lower his face to hers and capture her wide-eyed gaze as he growled huskily, “Oh no, Belle Broune. You aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Marty, I-”