Blind Beauty

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

ISBN: 978-1-77130-717-8

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: JC Chute

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.

BLIND BEAUTY

The Witches’ Mischief, 2

Elyzabeth M. VaLey

Chapter One

James Macintosh reined in his horse at the top of the hill,

nothing around but green trees and the winding dirt road, slowly
filling with snow. The bitter wind made his eyes water and he shrunk
down into his big coat. His horse––Faith––snorted, clearly expressing
her unhappiness.

James, on the contrary, felt a strange sense of relief course

through him. He was alone. Alone, in the middle of nowhere, and he
was glad. Raising his hand in silent farewell to everything he left
behind, he veered his horse and continued down the path away from
everyone. Here, amidst nature, there was no one to mock him for his
looks. No one to gaze at him with disgust or feigned interest.

His lips twitched and he smiled wildly. Kicking his horse’s

flanks, he set at a gallop. He would never return.

If his family wanted to see him, they could go visit him at his

new home. Otherwise, communication between them would be
explicitly via the post or none at all. James didn’t mind. After five and
twenty years, he had had enough. Enough insults, enough whispers
behind his back, enough laughter at his expense. He would retire to
the countryside and never look back upon the city that had officially
named him the ugliest man ever to set foot on Earth.

James’ heart constricted at the painful memories and he tugged

on Faith’s reins, slowing her down. He was perfectly aware that he
was nothing like the other men. He was not handsome. He was not
manly. He was tall and gangly. His hips were narrow, his build light.
His lips were too wide and full, his cheekbones too high and his right
cheek marked by a crisscross of scars. There were even those who

said his eyes were as dull as his brains. It mattered little to them that
he had received top grades at school. James sighed. To make matters
worse, he was a clumsy dancer. He liked conversing, but few wanted
to engage in conversation with him. He went to assemblies and balls
out of habit and respect for his parents, as they wished him to marry
soon. Unfortunately, no lady was interested in such a pitiful man.
James didn’t really mind––he had other tastes. Luckily, he was not the
first-born son of the Macintosh family, so he had no need to secure an
heir.

However, despite liking his secluded, quiet life, James could

no longer handle the disgusted faces, the leering grins and the pity in
many people’s eyes. Why, even his brothers teased him. No, if he
were going to lead a solitary life he would do it somewhere far away
from the town that had hated him from birth. With that in mind, James
had secured a house in the countryside, near the Belmont forest.
There, he would remain at peace, away from everyone’s inquiring and
dismayed glances.

All that was behind him now. James focused on the path

before him, squinting through the thick snowflakes that had suddenly
begun to fall. He had left the nearest town to his new home about an
hour ago, convinced that he could make it before the looming
snowstorm struck. He cupped his hands over his mouth and nose and
blew his breath on them, warming them up. Concern ate at him.
Perhaps, he’d miscalculated the distance. He could have sworn that
the town, his new home, was little more than a two-hour ride away.
Trying not to make much of it, he patted his horse’s head,
encouraging her as she trotted through the thickening white blanket at
her feet.

“Just a little more and we’ll be home. The servants are

probably waiting for us. You’ll have a double ration of oats and I’ll
have warm cabbage soup.”

Faith snorted in reply and quickened her step, clearly looking

forward to the promise of a meal. Abruptly, the animal stopped.
James glanced about, trying to discern something in the white flurry
swirling around them.

“Faith?”
He caressed the animal’s neck. Swiftly jumping off, he looked

at her. She didn’t seem in pain, but she was not moving, either. James
worried his bottom lip.

“What’s wrong?”
He tried tugging on her reins, but she didn’t budge, instead

whinnying as if annoyed. Stooping, he checked her legs. James was
almost finished when something barged into him, throwing him off
balance. He cried out in surprise and landed on his bottom. The
creature landed on top of him, snuggling into his arms.

“Morgana! Morgana,” someone called out.
The something in his arms squealed and James started.

Carefully, inspecting the bundle in his arms, he couldn’t help the drop
of his jaw as he realized he held a little girl with large blue eyes.

“Morgana.”
James glanced at the child, who had squirmed at the sound of

the woman’s voice.

“Is that your mama?” James whispered.
The little girl nodded.
“Morgana.”
There was an undoubted note of panic in the woman’s tone.
“Let’s get her over here, shall we?”
The little girl nodded in agreement. Cradling her in his arms,

James rose to his feet.

“Over here,” he called loudly.
He jumped when a woman with vivid green eyes appeared

behind his mare.

“Morgana.” Relief and a little anger laced the woman’s voice

as she spotted her child. “I’m so sorry, sir. While making our way to
town, she slipped out of my grasp. She has a prankster’s soul.”

“To town, in this weather?” James frowned. He tried to set the

child on the floor, but she hugged him tighter.

“The storm caught us by surprise,” the woman said, shrugging.

“It has eased, so we can still make it.” James suppressed a shudder at
the woman’s smile. Something about her made him nervous, though
he could not say what exactly.

“It’s a long way to go on foot,” James said, pulling back to

glance at the child. Big blue eyes bore into his face, gazing at him as
if he were the most beautiful man on earth. Uncomfortable, he cleared
his voice and returned his gaze to the mother.

“Perhaps, I can offer you a coach. My home is still a while

away, but it is much closer than town. You will be safer there until the
storm fully passes.”

“You are kind, Sir, but your horse doesn’t seem to want to

move,” the woman keenly observed.

“Aye. I know not what is wrong with her. I thought she had

hurt her foot with a stone or something of the sort, but cannot find
anything.”

“Ah, why don’t you let me have a look?”
James shook his head. “No, thank you. I wouldn’t want you to

get hurt. Faith can be a bit testy about who touches her legs.”

The woman laughed. “Worry not, Sir. I will be careful. You

just make sure to hold little Morgana.”

James hesitated, but the woman was already inspecting his

horse. Taking a step back, he finally managed to place the child
named Morgana on her feet. He was about to turn back toward the
woman, when the little girl tugged at his coat. Smiling, he crouched at
her side. Morgana grasped his face with her tiny hands and smiled.

“You are pretty,” she said, conviction ringing in her voice.
James eyes filled with tears at the compliment and the child’s

innocence. He shook his head, willing them away. Only a child could
be capable of seeing beauty in someone like him.

“How old are you, little Miss Morgana?” he asked, changing

the subject.

“I’m five, Sir,” she replied, waving her open hand in front of

his face. “Why are there tears in your eyes?” she asked, wisely. James
shuddered as she placed her gloved hands on his eyes, covering them.

James chuckled. “You’re a bright young lady. I am just

touched by your kindness. It is uncommon.”
“Because I said you were pretty?”

“Yes. Not many people think so.”
“Then, they’re blind.”
James frowned, surprised by the vehemence in the girl’s tone.

He started to get up, but she pulled at his hand, bringing him down
again.

“Mama says that beauty is not on the outside, but on the

inside.”

“A lot of people don’t see that,” James said quietly.
“Mama says I can see it best because I’m blind.”
James’ eyes widened and his mouth opened in shock. He saw

no indication of blindness in Morgana’s eyes. They were wide and

bright, demanding and knowing, as if she could see the world around
her.

“She can see, just not like the rest of us. Not yet, anyway,” the

woman said, cryptically. “This was in your horse’s hoof. I believe it
might have been what caused her to stop.” The child’s mother handed
him a nasty looking thorn, as large as his thumb. James frowned.

“I wonder where it came from? Poor Faith.” He patted his

horse, and she nuzzled him in return. Smiling, he turned toward the
woman and the child. “How can I repay your help? I do insist on you
returning home with me. Morgana can ride Faith,” he added, turning
toward the child, who graced him with a beautiful smile, then shook
her head.

“No?”
Morgana giggled and shook her head again, joined in laughter

by her mother. The tingling sound made James’ flesh prickle with
awareness. A profound sense of happiness infused him, and he joined
them.

“Surely, there is something I can do for you?”
“There is nothing you can do for us now … but perhaps, in the

future, there will be.”

“I promise then, that if at any time in my life you or your child

should come to me for help, I will aid you. What is your name, so that
I may recognize you?”

The mother chuckled. “I am Soussanna, and she, as you

already know, is Morgana. Remember it well, James Macintosh, for
we will return.”

Then, taking her little girl’s hand, she turned her back on him

and continued down the path in the direction of the town.

James watched them go, until they became a speck in the

distance. Climbing his horse, he resumed his way toward home.
Suddenly, reflecting back on the odd encounter, he frowned. A shiver
racked his body and he bent his head to look back.

He’d never told them his name.

Chapter Two

He hadn’t been riding long when snow began to fall again.

James cursed his luck. Worry gnawed at him for the woman and her
child. Setting his unease aside, he veered Faith around and hurried
across the path, hoping to catch up with them. He didn’t get far, the
snow quickly becoming a maelstrom. An enshrouding fog rolled in,
mingling with the icy flakes and obstructing his vision.

“Soussanna, Morgana?” he called out to them, hoping they

would hear him, but there was no response.

Thick and wild, the snowflakes piled around him. His body

ached from the bitter cold, his clothes not warm enough for such a
blizzard.

“Keep to the path, Faith. They can’t have gone that far.”
The horse obeyed, following his direction, her head bent low

to keep the flakes from her eyes. Their progress was slow. Every few
steps, James would pause and call out the woman’s name, to no avail.
The snow did not give them any respite. To complicate matters, the
sky began to darken, the light of the day quickly fading. James cursed.
Night was falling and he was nowhere near home. If possible, he was
farther away.

Defeated, he turned Faith around. They would return home.

That’s when he realized he was no longer on the path. Snow still
swirled around him, but the wind was not as acute, for he was
surrounded by trees. Panic burst in his chest. They were lost and not
only that, they were lost in a snowstorm. They would surely freeze to
death. Snow clung to his lashes and he could barely feel his toes.
James could only imagine how his mare felt. A night out in the open
like this would almost certainly kill them. Swallowing down the fear
that coursed through him, James patted Faith, brushing away some of
the snow atop her head.

“The best thing we can do is to try and find some shelter, girl

… perhaps by some trees, or in a barn. No point in looking for the
path now. We’d not find it with this weather and the growing
darkness.”

Purposely changing directions, he led his horse further into the

trees. At least there, they would be protected from the stronger winds

and perhaps he could find some dry twigs to start a fire. James lost
track of time as they immersed themselves deeper into the forest.

“Aye, over here!”
James’ heart lost a beat at the friendly voice. Looking around

in the gloom, he saw a feeble light glowing in the distance. He led
Faith toward the source, relief coursing through him at the sight of a
man with a lantern and a cabin at his back, waving at him. Dread
quickly replaced his emotions as he recalled another time when he’d
been invited to a house, only to be escorted out moments later because
he was not fit to be in the presence of the Lord and Lady.

“Your visage, Sir, is most displeasing to the Master and

Mistress of this household.”

“Why did they call me, then?”
“They wanted to see for themselves what the rumors were all

about.”

The man he was approaching, however, showed no indication

of asking him to leave. Quite the contrary––bundled up so that only
his eyes were visible, he was energetically waving

“Mortimer Randywine at your service, Sir,” the man said,

offering his hand even before James could dismount. James took it
and shook.

“James Macintosh.”
“A pleasure, a pleasure. Do come inside … you’ll not be going

far with this storm, and forgive me if I’m wrong, but we think you’re
lost.”

“We?” James asked, dismounting his horse.
“Aye, me wife and I.” The man’s dark eyes sparkled. “She

was the one that saw you going in circles round our house, she was.”

James smiled. “I do believe I’m lost, Mr. Randywine,” he said,

following the man to the back of the house, to the stable.

“Mr. Randywine?” The man burst into laughter. He clapped

James on the shoulder, and waved him inside. “No one calls me that.”
He took Faith’s reins from him. “I’m Morti. You won’t mind if I call
you James?”

James shook his head. “No, I don’t mind,” he paused, “Morti.”
“Not used to treating people by their first name, eh?” The man

turned to look at him, his eyes gleaming with mirth.

James shook his head and looked away. Something strange

was afoot, for twice in a day he had not been stared at in revulsion.

Then again, he reasoned, as he followed Morti to the back of the barn,
perhaps the dim light didn’t allow the man to see his features well.

“We’ll leave the horse in the pen with Hazel. He’ll like a

lassie’s company.”

Handing him the lantern, Morti led Faith into the pen with

Hazel. She snorted and eyed the other horse suspiciously. James
laughed.

“It’s all right, Faith. Better here than outside.”
“Hang that lantern on the hook behind you,” Morti ordered as

he disappeared into the shadows. James did as asked and Morti
appeared behind him moments later with a brush and worn towel.
“Pat her dry while I fetch some food for the both of them.”

James set to work, brushing off any remaining snow from the

beast and patting her dry as best he could. He scratched Faith behind
her ears and she nuzzled him, content for the warmth of the enclosed
barn.

“Here you go, pretty horse. What did you say her name was?”
“Faith.”
“Ah, Faith.” Morti patted her as she bent down to eat the

offered meal. “Well, that settles them. Come along, James. Let’s get
you inside and warmed up.” Grabbing the lantern, Morti once more
led them out into the cold. It didn’t last as they jogged up to the small
house. James blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the light as he
stepped inside.

“You found him.” A woman’s pleasant voice sounded from an

adjoining room. James couldn’t help returning the woman’s smile as
she approached him. “Introduce us, Morti,” she said, giving her
husband a sharp nudge in the ribs.

“Of course. I apologize.” Morti’s voice came out clearer than

before, and James turned around to face him. He barely stopped his
jaw from dropping at the sight. Morti was not what he expected.
Beneath the layers of cloth lay a man of remarkable beauty. Tall and
broad, James could tell that he was a man of hard muscle and
strength. James’s cock twitched expectantly. He swallowed hard,
nerves coursing through him. It would do no good to allow these kind
people to see where his attention lay.

Morti’s dark eyes perused him with interest before his lips

split into a wide grin, as if he knew what James was thinking. James
felt a blush creep down his neck. He averted his gaze.

“James Macintosh, this is my wife, Deidre Randywine.”
“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Randywine. How do you do?”

James bowed his head.

The woman laughed and clapped her hands together. James

looked up, startled. She was red to the roots of her dark hair. James
felt his heart sink.

Was she laughing at him?
“I am fine, Sir. Please call me Deidre. We are unaccustomed

to formalities in this house.” She reached for his hand, squeezing it.
“Come now, remove your boots and follow me. You must change
clothes or you will catch cold.”

“You are too kind.”
Deidre laughed again, the sound full of happiness. James took

off his boots and allowed himself to be led to the room at the back,
the couple’s bedroom. He couldn’t believe these people were
accepting him and not asking him to leave. One time, at a ball, he’d
been politely asked to leave because the woman found him disturbing.

“Take off those wet garments. I’ll see if something of Morti’s

will fit,” she said with a blush. Morti’s boisterous laugh echoed in the
room.

“Woman, have you seen him? Don’t bother with the clothes.

Wrap him in some blankets and set him in front of the fire.”

“But you don’t think he’ll catch cold?” she asked, eyeing him,

and then turning to her husband.

“No, we’ll keep him warm.”
James frowned, surprised by Morti’s tone and unsure what he

meant by it. Deidre however, seemed to know exactly what he was
talking about, because a sly smile crossed her lips before she looked
at him with a twinkle in her eye that made pinpricks of awareness rise
on his flesh.

“Well then, blankets it is,” she said, moving off to another

room.

James remained rooted to the spot, unsure if he should strip or

not. Morti grinned at him, his white teeth gleaming under the
fireplace’s light.

“Go on, remove your clothes. Deidre will be right back.”
For some reason, James’ mouth went dry at Morti’s words.

Regardless, he brushed them off as his overactive imagination. With a
nod, he began to remove his wet garments. His double-breasted coat

went first, then his waistcoat. His hands fumbled with his shirt for an
instant, before he pulled it off. James hesitated. Should he also
remove his trousers?

“Yes, the breeches must also go.” James gazed up at Morti. His body
quivered as the large man sauntered to him. Dark eyes danced over
his face, before Morti slid his hands across James’s breeches.
“They’re wet.”

James nodded. He made to take them off himself, but Morti’s

large hand landed over his.

“Allow me.”
James breath hitched as the other man expertly plucked at the

buttons at his fall front, drawing it open. He groaned as Morti’s
fingers brushed against his quickly growing erection. Morti didn’t
speak. Again, he lightly stroked James’ cock. James closed his eyes,
fighting to gain control of his body. He shouldn’t allow this.

“Don’t fight against what your body wants,” Morti’s voice

drifted up to him. He moaned from deep as velvety warmth wrapped
around the head of his cock.

“This…”
“Feels right,” Morti supplied, nuzzling his cock. Abruptly, he

stepped away. James opened his eyes. Morti grinned at him
mischievously. Placing his hands on each side of his hips, he slid the
remainder of the garment off him. James shivered, unsure of what to
do.

“Lie on the bed.”
He hesitated. Morti’s firm hand curled around his arm, leading

him to the four-poster bed dominating the bedroom.

“Lie back.”
Nervous sweat broke out on his brow and he did as told. He

glanced at Morti, expecting more direction. His mouth watered as the
other man started removing his clothes. Morti was more than James
expected. He was broad and thick as an ox. The muscles on his arms
and legs bulged. It was like watching a man of steel.

“Farm work is hard work,” he offered as an explanation,

noticing James’s blatant stare. “This, though, is nature,” he said,
stripping his trousers and grasping his thick cock. James didn’t know
what to say. He’d only been with another man once and he had not
possessed such a fine member. Morti’s cock was long and thick, so

thick, that he doubted he could curl his hand around it. He wondered
how his wife managed with it.

“Deidre,” he cried, sitting up.
“I’m here, James.”
James glanced at the doorway. She stood there, partially

hidden in shadows, blankets in her arms. Her cheeks were flushed and
her chest rose and fell rapidly. How long had she stood there?

“Don’t stop,” she said, coming further into the room and

shutting the door.

“But,” he protested meekly. He glanced at Morti’s large

erection and felt a new wave of lust swirl inside of him.

“It is pleasurable for me to watch Morti with another man.”
James hesitated. Deidre smiled.
“If it makes you more comfortable, I shall remove my

clothing.” Though James didn’t answer, Deidre began to take off her
clothes. His cock hardened further as the wife of the man next to him
did away with the rest of her garments.

“She’s a beauty.” Morti’s rough voice sounded next to his ear.

Goosebumps broke over his flesh and James tore his gaze from
Deidre to look at Morti. The large man grinned at him. His calloused
hands slid over his chest. James’s breath snagged. Lower and lower,
those playful fingers went until they rested at the top of his cock.
James groaned. Eager to be touched, desperate for more, yet afraid to
ask, he still did not believe that this was happening to him.

“Touch him,” Deidre commanded. James looked toward her,

finding her seated on a bench near the fire, her hands between her
legs. “Suck him, Morti,” she urged.

Morti’s broad grin was the last thing he saw as he dipped

between his legs and licked his cock from top to bottom. James
moaned, his body arching at the sensual touch. He grasped Morti’s
hair, beckoning him to suck him. Morti chuckled hoarsely and
wrapped his lips around his engorged member. Swiftly, he took him
into his warm mouth.

“Yes.”
His fingers curled around Morti’s head as the man sucked and

licked him. His devious tongue rolled over the head of his weeping
cock, drawing a new wave of liquid ecstasy to drip from him. Morti’s
moan reverberated across his whole being and James cried out,
pumping his hips in and out of his mouth. He lost sense of his

Chapter Three

James breathed hard. His head swam and he had to keep his

eyes closed for fear that if he opened them, he’d discover that it had
all been some sort of fantastical dream. The gentle touch on his arm,
however, felt very real. Up and down, up and down, a finger trailed a
path over his right arm. It was a sensual caress, meant to soothe and
arouse at the same time, and one that was fulfilling its commitment.
His loins stirred. Smooth lips found his, brushing against them in an
intimate way. James moaned. The lips pressed harder, the tip of a
tongue snaking across his mouth, pleading entrance. James opened.
Wet and delicious, the tongue slid into his recess, rolling over his own
tongue and creating a wild dance. James groaned. The kiss deepened
and he found that he could move. His fingers tangled in Morti’s hair
and he brought the older man closer. A deep groan came from the
other man as his cock brushed against James.

James reached between them, sliding his fingers across the

thick member. Liquid coated the top and he dexterously spread it over
the whole length. Morti growled low as James wrapped his hand
around him.

“Suck him, James.” Deidre’s voice drifted to him and he

remembered that she was there too. Sitting in front of the fireplace,
watching them with avid, lust-filled eyes. James pushed at Morti,
forcing the other man to lie on his back. Straddling him, he did what
he had wanted to do ever since he caught sight of his bulging muscles,
and pressed his mouth to them. Again and again, James touched the
other man’s hard muscles. He traced every vein and every crevice
with his tongue, taking in Morti’s salty tang. Passion induced hunger
slammed into him. His cock was at full mast again, the muscles in his
ass contracting as he thought about receiving Morti’s erection deep
inside of him. He eyed the thick appendage in front of him. First, he
would taste him. James licked the head of Morti’s cock, rolling his
tongue over the red bulbous tip repeatedly. Morti groaned and huffed.
His breath came out in heavy pants, yet he refrained from hanging on
to James’s hair. A sudden idea occurred to James. Swerving around so
that his ass was hanging above Morti’s face, James faced Deidre on
the chair. The voluptuous woman smiled at him. Her eyes were fixed
on them, her fingers expertly plucking at her own folds. James cried
out in surprise as Morti grasped his hips and lowered him to his

mouth. His nether region throbbed in wanton desire as Morti’s tongue
slid over the puckered hole at the back. Eager to take a taste of his
own, James opened his mouth as wide as possible and slid the other
man’s thick cock into his mouth.

They groaned in unison. Slowly, James took more of Morti’s

cock. A little bit more and then he’d pull back, only to take more. He
began to build a rhythm, when Morti’s finger joined his tongue in his
exploration of his backside. James threw his head back and rocked his
body against the invasion. It felt so good. Another wet finger joined
the first, sliding in and out of him and creating a burning pain.
Ecstasy.

“More,” he cried, eyes tightly shut. “More.”
Cool spittle slid across his crack as Morti’s tongue penetrated

him once more. James moaned. Suddenly, warm, musky-smelling
hands grasped his face. He opened his eyes to find Deidre looking at
him with an unreadable face.

“More,” she whispered. Kneeling at his side, she angled her

mouth to his and kissed him deep. James groaned into her mouth as
Morti retrieved his fingers. He bucked, eager to have something
inside of him again, the throbbing inside of him having only increased
with the recent invasion.

“Lie on your stomach, James.” Deidre whispered in his ear,

licking the shell and drawing a shiver from him, before releasing him.
He didn’t ask questions and did as he was told. Morti rolled out of
bed, away from his line of vision. He laid there, bottom in the air,
waiting desperately for someone to touch him and bring him to new
heights. Suddenly, cool liquid slid across his rear.

“Oil,” Morti explained.
Small fingers prodded his backside and he realized they were

Deidre’s. He moaned at the pleasurable sensation, rotating his body
against them.

“I want your cock inside of me, James,” she said, breathlessly,

“just as much as you want my husband’s.” Another finger joined the
others, this one larger and coarser.

“Yes,” he cried out. “Yes.” James had been with other women

before and the experience was pleasurable, but to lie with both a man
and a woman would be a new thing. His head swam just to think of it.

Deidre rolled onto the bed. “Lift your arm,” she ordered,

sliding beneath him. James kissed her, hard. She moaned against him,

arching her back and pressing her soft breasts to his chest. His cock
nudged her parted legs. The heat he found there beckoned him to sink
his cock in it, balls deep. He didn’t have time to grasp it as Morti’s
larger hand curled around it, leading it into his wife’s waiting womb.
No sooner had the head slid through, James plunged deeper. Deidre
cried out. She wrapped her arms around him, slid them to his ass and
grabbed hard. James groaned, the ache there increasing as she spread
his cheeks. Something hard and thick prodded at his backside and he
mewled. Yes.

Slick and thick, Morti’s cock began to ease its way inside of

him. Slow and careful, the large man pushed the head of his member
into James’s contracting rear.

“God, yes,” he hissed as the thick appendage split him in two.
“Don’t move … not yet,” Deidre groaned.
James closed his eyes and waited for more. He knew there was

more. As soon as he had received and grown accustomed to the large
head, the rest of Morti’s cock slid in. Burning pain made him cry out
but it was quickly forgotten, replaced with the pleasurable sensation
of being full.

“Now, now, we move,” Deidre said breathlessly. She lifted her

hips, grinding herself against him. At the same time, Morti pushed
deep. James cried out. He was on fire. Burning from limb to limb in a
fire of erotic pleasure. Again and again, their bodies moved in unison.
Sweat coated them, making them slick and wet. Groans, moans, gasps
and harsh breathing were the only sounds in the room along with the
crackling of the fire. Again, and again, and again until fire turned
liquid and erupted out of them, one after the other.

The sky was clear the next morning, the storm gone. James

stood at the door to the Randywine home, hesitant to leave and yet
knowing he must. The night he had spent with the couple had been
beyond anything he had ever lived and yet, he was still afraid that it
was all a dream. The couple had not commented on his appearance
once and that, more than anything, made him think that perhaps he
had fallen asleep in the snow and was in truth close to death.

“Well, it looks like the worst of the storm is over. You should

make it home all right.”

“Will you come visit me as we talked about?” James asked.
Deidre took his hand and squeezed. “We most certainly will.

Why do you think we wouldn’t?” she asked him dubiously.

“Well,” he cleared his throat.

Deidre cocked her head to look at him. “You worry too much about
your looks, James. Has no one ever told you that beauty is in the eye
of the beholder? For us, you are truly beautiful.” She cupped his
cheek tenderly. “If you hadn’t been, we never would have invited you
to bed.” She lowered her voice. “Morti doesn’t take kindly to
strangers ever since his step-brother vanished.”

“His step-brother?”
“Aye, we know not what happened, but we got the missive

nearly one month ago that he had fled the city.”

“What are you two whispering?” Morti asked, as he brought

Faith from the stables.

“Nothing at all, dear,” Deidre said, winking at him. “I shall

leave you two to say goodbye. The chickens won’t feed themselves,
after all.” Standing on her toes, she planted a pliant kiss on James’s
mouth. “Farewell, Sir.”

James watched her go back inside, unable to stop the smile on

his lips.

“She’s truly something, is she not?” Morti asked, watching his

wife lovingly. “It was actually my brother who met her first.”

James turned to look at Morti, surprised at the way the

conversation had turned. The large man grinned at him.

“I’m not deaf and Deidre is not too discreet. My step-brother,”

he frowned. “He is a good man, but he has a nose for trouble. I would
not be surprised if he managed to land himself in some mischief and
had to run off.” Morti passed a hand through his wild brown locks. “I
wonder…”

He shook his head.
“What is it?” James asked.
“I was given something for him and was to see him this

month, at least before he fled. Now, not knowing where he is…”
Morti’s lips dropped, sadness filling his gaze. “It will be more useful
for you. Wait here.”

A few moments later, Morti returned with an engraved silver

flask.

“I’ve filled it with brandy,” Morti said, grinning. “It’ll keep

you warm on the way home.”

“Thank you.” James grasped his hand affectionately. Morti

squeezed. His face became quizzical as he stared at their joined hands.

“Thank you,” he said after a moment.
“For what?”
“For last night, and for making Deidre happy even though…”
He paused, seemingly at a loss for words.
James chewed on his bottom lip, and then broke out into

laughter, suddenly understanding the other man’s predicament. “Even
though it was you I wanted to plough into.”

Morti looked away, a light pink tainting his cheeks.
“It’s all right, Morti. Deidre is not the first woman I have lain

with, though she has been the most enjoyable.”

Morti gave him an apologetic smile. Abruptly, he grinned.

“Maybe next time we can do something different.”

James smiled, a blush creeping up on him at the promise of a

next time.

“Well, I better be off.”
Storing the flask on the horse’s saddlebag, he mounted Faith.
“You’re a good man, James Macintosh. I am glad we have

met.” He smiled warmly. “Now, remember, follow the line of birch
trees until the one with the three holes. Once you see her, turn right.
From there it is straight down until you reach the path.”

“Thank you, Morti.” James squeezed the other man’s hand.

Truly happy for the first time in a long time, he lifted his hand in a
sign of farewell before leading Faith back to the forest.

James rode through the forest at a tranquil pace. Snow was

thick on the ground and he had no wish for Faith to slip. The sky was
clear and blue, and from what Morti and Deidre had told him, he was
probably no more than an hour or so away from his home. He shook
his head and laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet forest and
sending a flock of birds flying into the sky. Moving away from his
birth town was the best thing he had ever done. James still couldn’t
quite believe that four different persons had looked at him, not with
disgust, but with admiration. He was shocked, to say the least.
Perhaps, it had to do with the water they drank in this part of the
country, he thought, amused. To imagine that just the day before he
had been looking forward to being a recluse in his own home. Now,
though, with the knowledge that Morti and Deidre were so near, he
looked forward to seeing them again. He would never be the most

popular gentleman of the English society, but at least now, he’d have
someone to see. His heart soared and he relaxed. Nonetheless, things
could change. It had happened to him before. When he was close to
two and ten years, Alfred, his dearest friend, or so he had believed,
became his worst enemy from one day to the next.

James sighed. He glanced about, certain the tree Morti had

spoken of must be near. Spotting it in the distance, he encouraged
Faith to walk faster. The sound of a twig breaking echoed in the area.
The hair at the back of his neck stood on end. James’s eyes roved the
area. His flesh prickled in fear. The forest was eerily quiet. He
fingered the gun at his side, prepared to pull it out at the first sign of
trouble. A birdcall sounded nearby. The hairs on his arms rose.
Another bird chirped, except that it wasn’t a bird. The sound was too
high pitched and precise. Something flew past his hand just as he
pulled out his gun. James cried out in shock and pain. His weapon
clattered to the floor. Kicking Faith’s flank, he made ready to flee,
holding on to her reins one-handed. The beast set off at a run,
whinnying and rearing when a group of men cut off the path.

“Well, well, well, what have we got here?”

Chapter Four

James fought to control Faith as she skittered nervously. The

smell of his blood coupled with the strange other men made her
anxious.

“Easy now, girl,” he said softly. “What do you want?” he

called out to the group of men quickly surrounding him. There was no
response forthcoming. The circle around him closed, making escape
an impossible feat. James lifted his chin and squared his shoulders. He
knew not what they wanted from him, but he would not go down
without a fight. The evening he had spent with Morti and Deidre had
infused new life in him. There were still good people out there and if
it was only to see the sunrise another day, he would battle for his life.

One of the men took a step in his direction and Faith neighed

anxiously. James returned the man’s glare. His eyes were almost lost
amid the grime on his face and his black beard. His hair, which hung
dirty and greasy to his shoulders, did not help.

“You aren’t a woman,” he said, coming closer. His clothes

were torn in several places and his boots were worn. James chanced a
glance toward the rest of the men. They all looked dirty, hungry and
haggard. A glint of desperation twinkled in more than one eye. He
swallowed. If encountering a band of thieves was ill, finding ones that
were desperate was almost a death sentence.

“No, Sir. I am a man.” Considering the nervous quake rushing

through him, his voice came out strong and potent.

“So it seems.” The man grinned, displaying a mouth full of

yellow and decayed teeth. James recoiled. The thief’s tone was laced
with wicked intent.

“Take his money and get on with it, Pete.” James jumped at

the unexpected voice. Deep and melodious, it seemed out of place
among the band.

“Silence,” snapped the man called Pete. “I think we can still

have some sport with him. A pretty lady and a pretty boy can have the
same uses.” James kicked out as the man grasped his knee, lightly.
His foot connected with the man’s chin, and he doubled over cussing.

“Hold him down,” he bellowed.
He kicked Faith’s flanks, desperate to make a run for it, but

one of the men threw himself at her, pulling the reins from his weak
grasp. Faith reared up, catching him by surprise. With nothing to hold

onto, James struggled to remain atop the horse. He leaned forward but
shouts and more expletives filled the air. The man named Pete pulled
at Faith’s reins and she reared again. James flailed about wildly and
slipped. As fast as he could, he rolled away from his scared animal.
Jumping to his feet, he ran for Faith, but strong arms wrapped around
him impeding his progress.

“No.”He struggled against the man, desperate to help Faith.

“They’re going to hurt her.”

“Let go of her, all of you. You’re scaring her.” James searched

in confusion for the voice that had also told Pete to take his money.
There were a few protests, but finally the men released Faith. She
stood panting, eyes wide and wild. James struggled to get to her, but
the man holding him was made out of iron and he was too light.
James’ mouth dropped as one of the largest men he had ever seen
approached his horse.

“Easy now, sweet thing. I’m not going to hurt you.” He

stiffened, a strange tingle bathing his body as the man’s baritone
voice reached him. It was the same man as before. James watched in
awe as Faith snorted and inclined her head toward him. The man
reached for her, gently sliding his hand across her muzzle and over
her neck, grasping her reins.

“Sweet horse. Come.”
James mouth popped open as Faith obeyed to the soft tug of

the reins and the commanding yet gentle voice and moved forward.

“Good job, Richard. She’ll fetch us a pretty penny,” Pete said.
The man named Richard gave no reply, his dark hair

obstructing his face as he petted Faith.

“What do we do with him?” the man holding James asked.
“Give us your purse,” Pete ordered, sneering at him.
“It’s in my saddle bag,” he said. “Please, don’t take Faith,

she’s—“

“Richard, see what you can find.”
The man gave no reply, searching in Faith’s bag for a moment,

before producing his purse.

“Here,” he said, throwing it at Pete’s feet. Nerves fluttered

deep in James’ belly as the man named Richard turned to look at him.
The air went out of his lungs at the penetrating gaze.

“There’s nothing here but a few shillings and farthings,” Pete

cried out. He kicked at the dirt, furious. “That’s nothing. Not worth

all the trouble,” he muttered under his breath. His head snapped up,
his eyes locked on James. His gaunt features became a mask of pure
evil as a grin split across his features. “You look like you could have
much more.” He rubbed his hands. “Tie him up and bring him along.”

****

James’ head swam. Nausea swirled inside of him. For a while,

he’d kept his eyes open, hoping to discover where he was being led,
but soon he lost his bearings. He stopped fighting, preferring to keep
his energy for later. There was no point in struggling when he was
firmly tied down and being carried like a sack of potatoes from one
man to the next. The only man that did not lug with him was the one
leading Faith. Much to his chagrin, his beast had not acted up again
ever since the large man had taken over her reins. He held the rear of
the line of thieves and more than once James found himself gazing in
his direction. He wasn’t the only one looking: unreadable dark eyes
bore into his.

At some point, James guessed he must have dozed off, for

when he opened his eyes again, the sun was high upon the horizon
and they were entering a cavern.

“Did you bring food?”
“Aye, Bernard caught some coneys.”
James didn’t hear the rest of the conversation as his bearer

dumped him on the floor near the mouth of the cave. He watched the
rest of the men file inside, all except the one named Richard, the one
leading Faith. He trembled, his teeth chattering loudly as panic for his
beloved animal rushed afore. Had the man run away with her? Then,
before he could contemplate any darker fates, Richard appeared at the
cavern’s doorway.

“Please,” James blurted, “Faith.”
James gasped, taken aback by the kindness in the man’s brown

eyes and the curve of a sensual mouth through a curtain of raven
locks.

“She is safe.”
James’ nodded, relief coursing through him as he took the man

for his word. He didn’t contemplate the idea that he could be lying,
for sincerity was clear in his gaze. Richard turned his back on him and
moved further inside.

“So what do we do with him?” he heard someone ask.

“I say we have some fun with him,” another man proposed.

James’ searched for him in the crowd, balking at the sight of a balding
man with hooked nose. “He’s pretty enough to pass for a girl.”

“Aye, but he isn’t.”
“No one will know,” someone added.
“I don’t think it’s wise,” Richard said. James’ eyes riveted

toward him. His heart was ready to jump out of his chest. Was the
man helping him? Awareness flooded his synapses, making every
nerve in his body come alive as Richard’s eyes found his. “We should
ask a ransom for him.”

James’ stomach cramped painfully. A ransom? Who would

give anything for him? He clenched his jaw. He was going to die this
day, he was certain. He lowered his head, his silky hair curtaining
around him. He had no great plans in life, but he would have liked to
see the sunrise another day. He would have liked to ride Faith and feel
the wind against him in an intimate caress that made him believe he
was free. He would have liked to see Morti and Deidre again. He
would have liked, even if it would never be possible, to pretend for
one more day that someone out there could love him.

“A ransom?” James snuck a glance at the group of thieves.

Pete sat atop a boulder, rubbing his hands on his dirty trousers and
looking at him with curiosity. One of the men stirred a pot over a low
fire, while the rest of the men glanced from the food to Pete. “Do you
think he’ll be worth something?” Pete asked, rubbing his hands
together.

“A ransom, or we could sell him.”
James felt the color drain from his face. Sell him?
Richard nodded and confidently strode in his direction. Firmly

grasping his chin, he twisted his face left and right. James bit back a
gasp as tingles of awareness spread from where Richard touched him
down to the south of his anatomy.

“He’s scarred, but someone will want him. His mouth,” at that

moment, Richard stroked the pad of his thumb across his bottom lip,
drawing a strangled gasp from him, “is pretty enough for sucking
cock.”

James closed his eyes, unable to bear the embarrassment. Not

again. He couldn’t bear the shame of being told that he had a mouth
made for carnal pleasures and little else. Richard’s thumb slid across
his chin like a caress and James felt the prickle of tears at the back of

his eyes as his body responded with enthusiasm to the touch. Was he
so starved for attention that he responded to a man that wanted to sell
him into prostitution––or worse?

“However, I think we’ll make more of a profit if we ransom

him.”

James took in a lungful of air, unaware that he had been

holding his breath up until that moment. A touch on his chest caused
him to open his eyes. Dark eyes found his face, a flicker of emotion
seeming to pass through them before disappearing. Richard tugged at
the lapels of his coat, checking the material.

“Though dirty, his clothes are made out of good material.

There might even be some gold thread. I also noticed he had liquor
and paper in his saddle bag.” Unexpectedly, Richard pulled his hair.
James cried out. “His hair is clean and he’s well groomed. Not a trace
of a beard.” Just as suddenly, he released him, returning to stand at
Pete’s side. James shivered, though if it was from cold or the loss of
the other man’s body heat, he wasn’t sure. He strained his ears to hear
what Richard was saying.

“I’d bet my hair he’s the son of some rich landowner. If he’s a

firstborn son or an only child, we could get some good money.”
James could almost see the wheels churning inside Pete’s head as he
glared at him from his spot near to the fire.

“You say his clothes are good, and that he had paper and

liquor in his bag?” Pete gave Richard an enquiring gaze. The larger
man nodded. “He must certainly be rich.” The leader of the brigands
scratched his head and gave James another look before turning his
attention to Richard. “Bring in the paper and the liquor. We could use
them, and this will take some careful planning.”

Chapter Five

Richard petted the prisoner’s mare. What had he called her?
“Hope?”
There was no reaction from the animal. He stared at the beast,

racking his brain for a name. Hope, Beauty, Love, Trust, Faith. That
last one sounded right.

“Faith,” he tried. The horse’s ears twitched and she nudged

him with her muzzle. Richard chuckled. “Faith, it is then.” He rubbed
his hand across the horse’s snout before reaching for her saddlebag
and pulling out the flask he’d seen earlier. Grasping it tightly, he
brought it into the light. He hadn’t been deceived. This was his
flagon. He recognized the engraving and the dent at the bottom.
Furthermore, he turned it in his hands. Yes, there was the scratch.

“How did your master come upon this, eh, Faith?” he asked

softly.

The horse snorted in reply but Richard paid it no heed. He

unscrewed the cap and sniffed. The familiar rich, fruity flavor
assaulted his nostrils. His heart hammered and his mouth dried. One
taste, just to make sure. He groaned as the smooth liquid went down
his throat, leaving in its wake a pleasurable flame that settled like a
warm glow in his stomach. He cracked his neck. Definitely his
brother’s own brew.

Richard resealed the cap and huffed. “So it seems that not only

does your master have my flask, he also knows my brother…how else
could he have gotten some of this?” he asked the horse, holding up
the flask for her to see. The animal nipped his hand, clearly hoping
that he was offering her something to eat. He pulled back, smiling.
“That’s not edible for a horse,” he said. Faith eyed him dubiously
before turning her head to explore the ground near her. Richard’s gaze
followed.

“Hey.” Grasping the horse’s reins, he pulled her back. “You

can’t eat that, it’s poisonous.” He undid the coil of rope holding her to
the tree to walk her to a safer location, when he stopped in his tracks.
“Dear God,” he muttered under his breath. “Have I gone mad?”
Before he could question his sanity, he crouched and took some of the
berries he had just stopped the horse from eating. Looking back over
his shoulder, he checked to make sure the thieves were busy inside

and not paying heed to him. Hands trembling, Richard reached into
the saddlebag again, searching until he found what he needed.

“Yes, your master definitely has some resources.” Grasping

the handkerchief tightly with one hand, he dropped the berries onto it.
He glanced at the cave before bending to retrieve some more berries
and placing them on the white cloth.

“You better pray this works,” he whispered. Turning his back

on the cave, he opened the flask, grasping the cap between his teeth.
Controlling the shaking in his hands, Richard held the kerchief with
the berries above its mouth and squeezed hard. Dark drops dripped
into his brother’s brandy, mingling with the amber color of the drink.
Richard squeezed until no more liquid emerged. Quickly shutting the
flask, he stared at his hands. His tattered gloves were ruined, but
fortunately his fingers hadn’t stained.

“It seems luck is on our side, so far, Faith,” he said, removing

his gloves and hiding them deep in the saddlebag, along with the
tainted handkerchief. He shook the contents of the flask. “Now, let’s
just hope it holds and this works.”

Richard vigorously shook the contents of the flask once more.

He opened it and sniffed. The pungent smell was the same, but now
he could only hope that the flavor had also remained. Tingling nerves
coursed through him and knotted his stomach as he walked toward the
cave. He stopped mid-way, remembering that he was to bring the
paper too. Turning back, he fished the sheets from the bag, making
sure that they hadn’t stained. Breathing a sigh of relief, he took a
moment to lean his head onto the horse’s side. Richard gulped. What
was he doing?

“I have to tell you,” he whispered to the horse. “Your master

is most fortunate that I happened to leave you next to a poisonous
plant.” The horse snorted. Richard patted her reassuringly. “It’s lucky
I noticed too and you didn’t eat any.”

The horse shook itself as if to get rid of him. Richard absently

patted its head again. He needed a moment more to compose himself
before returning to the thieves. He wasn’t sure what he was doing
anymore or why he was doing it. The prisoner had him out of sorts,
not only physically but also emotionally and clearly mentally as well.
In his lifetime, Richard had been attracted to other men, but he’d
never acted on it. Now, his mind was telling him one thing but his
body was craving another and he couldn’t put a stop to it. He’d had no

need to go up to the man and touch him, brush his thumb across his
lips, or tangle his fingers in his hair. He didn’t have to rescue him, for
he had no need for further trouble either. He was already deep in shite
as it was, thievery and all. Yet, here he was crushing berries and
mingling them into liquor in the hope six men would fall asleep,
giving enough time for him and the lad to escape.

“For what?”
He rubbed his palm against the coarse material of his trousers,

hoping. Hoping that there was more to the man’s blue eyes than just
fear. Hoping for a kiss. For a touch. For a whisper of skin against
skin.

“I’ve gone mad,” he murmured. He turned the flask in his

hand. He would do it regardless. Even if he got nothing out of the
prisoner, no one deserved to be kidnapped and abused. No one.
Straightening his shoulders, Richard gave the horse one final pat and
returned to the cave.

“Took you long enough,” Pete muttered, taking the parchment

from his hands.

Richard flinched. “I couldn’t find it,” he lied, glancing at

James. His blue eyes were large, trepidation as clear as two drops of
water. Richard’s heart constricted. Would James trust him to get them
out of here?

“Well, let me have them,” Pete ordered, stretching his hand for

the paper and flask. Richard handed them over without a word,
carefully watching as the leader of the group set the papers aside and
took a swig of the golden liquid in the flask. He wiped his mouth with
the back of his hand. “Blazes, that is good.”

“Let me have some,” George said, reaching for the flask.
“Now me,” Oswald said, also reaching for it.
Richard’s nerves stretched to the point that he felt physically

ill as Pete stood up and waved the flask in the air, denying everyone a
sip. The man was not known for his generosity, but Richard could
only hope that if enough pressure were put on him, he’d concede for
the others to have a swig.

“I want some too,” Richard put in, taking a menacing step

toward Pete. It was time to make use of his muscles. He curled his lip
in a snarl and slapped his fist against his other hand. Warren and
Archibald got to their feet, imitating him. Richard watched amused as
color drained from Pete’s face.

“Fine,” he cried, throwing the flask at Richard. “You can all

have some, although, being so small and us being so many I doubt
there’s enough for all,” he murmured, sitting back, down, defeated.

Richard grinned. “If we all take small sips there will be

enough.” He opened the flask and pretended to take a sip, then closed
it and presented it to Warren. One by one, the flask circled the room,
all the men taking a sip. By the time it came back to him, it was close
to empty. He offered the remainder to Pete, a peace offering that
would place the man in his good graces one more. Pete eyed him
dubiously for a moment, then snatched the flask and drank down the
remainder of its contents. Carelessly casting the silver flask in a
corner, Pete returned his attention to James. Richard shuddered at the
look the thief was giving the young man. Undisguised hate,
frustration and lust, packed into a man that reeked of death and looked
like it too. He observed James. The young man seemed to be
oblivious to the stare. He sat with his knees against his chest, his head
resting on them, looking out of the cave.

Good.
“Shall we speak about his future?” Richard proposed, settling

next to Pete. The man turned towards him and shook his head.

“Not with an empty stomach. How much before those rabbits

are ready?” he yelled at Bernard.

“They’re about ready,” the man answered, eyes narrowed. The

men set into motion, pulling out some cutlery and bowls they’d stolen
some time before. Finally, they lined up before Bernard, who served
them more or less equal rations. Richard sat in a corner, enjoying his
food in silence just like everybody else. The sound of the crackling
fire and chewing filled the cave. He ate, although the food was
tasteless and the thought that the prisoner was probably hungry too
kept gnawing at him. Unable to stand it any longer, he voiced his
thoughts.

“Pete, shouldn’t we feed the prisoner?” If we’re going to

ransom him or sell him it is best that he’s in good condition, at least if
we want our money’s worth.”

Pete glanced up at him, stifling a yawn. Richard’s heart

skipped a beat. Was it working? Scratching his grimy beard, Pete
made a show of looking at James. “Aye, I guess you’re right. If there
is anything left, give it to him.” He glanced at his own empty bowl

then looked back up. “I’m going to take a nap. Keep guard, Richard,”
he said mid-yawn.

Richard didn’t bother to answer. Instead, he walked to the fire

in the corner and checked the pot for any remaining broth. There was
nothing there, as he’d suspected. Trying not to be seen, he took his
bowl, which still had a few spoonfuls, and approached the prisoner.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched as some more men lay
down, eyes closed. The frantic hammering of his heart was so loud, he
was afraid they’d hear. Still, he somehow managed to act normally.
Kneeling next to the prisoner, he felt his breath hitch as the man
turned blue eyes on him.

“I thought, I thought, you’d like something to eat.” He was

breathless. Good God, he was breathless. What was wrong with him?

The man blinked, his long dark lashes touching his pale cheek

in an intimate caress. Richard swallowed as those blue eyes looked at
him again, piecing right through him, searching his heart and soul,
exploring him as if he held the key to a riddle.

“I’m bound.”
A shiver ran down his spine at the sound of the decadent

voice. The man before him was a contradiction, so dainty in
appearance and yet with a voice so dark and rough.

“I’ll feed it to you,” Richard supplied. He wet his lips, feeling

the back of his neck burn as those blue eyes dropped to his mouth. “I
can’t release your bonds or Pete will kill me.”

The prisoner nodded in understanding. Richard smiled.
“What is your name?” he asked while ladling the spoon with

some broth.

The man hesitated, clearly uncertain whether or not he should

give out his name.

“James.”
“I’m Richard.”
Richard’s hands trembled slightly as he offered James the

food. He couldn’t take his eyes away from his mouth as it opened and
received the spoon. Richard’s cock twitched as the prisoner’s lips
dragged over the utensil. Without a word, he fed him another
spoonful. James’ lips snagged on them again, soft, red, delicious. He
wanted to taste them, to grasp them between his teeth and tug, to nip,
caress and love them until they became red as cherries.

“More, please.”

Richard’s cock hardened at James’ request. More. He wanted

more too. He wanted James under him, on top of him, all over him.
He wanted those lips dragging over his erection just like they trailed
and hitched on the spoon. He started as the spoon clanked against the
empty bowl, realizing for the first time that while feeding James, he
had done naught but stare at his lips. Richard lifted his eyes to James,
worried that the other man would repudiate him. Instead, he met eyes
darkened by unspoken passion. His heart skipped a beat and he
looked away. Was he imagining it? It didn’t matter … they couldn’t
do this. Not now. His mouth dried as he surveyed the men in the cave.
They were all asleep.

Chapter Six

A slow burning fire made out of liquid heat consumed James.

He’d forgotten where he was, the peril he was in, or his appearance.
Everything became secondary. Everything lost importance. He lost
himself to the man before him, Richard. He hadn’t touched him, but
he didn’t need to. His dark eyes, fastened on the man’s lips, proved
enough to make his body react.

Somewhere in his mind, something told him that he should

feel nothing, for hadn’t the man kidnapped him with the others?
Hadn’t he robbed and perhaps murdered with the others? He knew not
what other crimes Richard was responsible for and the sensible part of
his brain told him to step away, forget him and try to escape. Yet, he
couldn’t. He was tied down hand, foot and heart. One look from
Richard was all it took to keep him pinned to the floor, docile like a
cat whose belly was being rubbed. His eyes appeared filled with lust
and something more complicated James couldn’t quite decipher.
Something he, too, felt in a deeper part of himself.

Richard looked away, clearly as overwhelmed as he was.

James took in a shaky breath. He glanced at the sleeping thieves,
surprised that they had succumbed so early. Richard stood and left
him without a word. James watched him as he picked up the discarded
flask and some other things he couldn’t see, from the back of the
cave.

From the start, the hefty man had been more understanding

than the others. He had taken Faith away from danger, had distracted
the other men so they wouldn’t rape him. Richard had fed him and he
had suggested they sell him. The world came crashing down over
James’ head as he realized that it had been Richard who had
suggested he be sold. Distrust pierced his heart, mingling with panic.
Perhaps, he thought, Richard wanted the profit all for himself. Fear
gripped him in a deadly vise and wouldn’t let go. Cold seeped his
bones, making him shiver, teeth chattering loudly. How was he going
to get out of this? James recoiled as far as he could as Richard
crouched at his side, a large hunting knife in his hand.

“We have to go,” he said, reaching for him. James opened his

mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Go?

“Don’t scream,” Richard said, his eyes widened in alarm as he

glanced at the sleeping thieves. “I poisoned them but I don’t know

how long it will last.” James froze as the large man reached around
him and cut his bindings. Big, calloused hands covered his wrists,
massaging them and bringing circulation back to his hands. The hands
moved toward his ankles, repeating the same operation. James
couldn’t breathe. Panic mingled with inexplicable yearning flowed
from his limbs.

“Come on.”
He froze for one moment, unsure if he should follow Richard

or stay. The choice was obvious and he forced his legs to move. It
would be much easier to get rid of one man than six.

James trembled from head to toe as he followed Richard

outside. His heart seemed stuck at his throat and his stomach rolled in
a dance that made him want to heave its contents. He forced his limbs
to move behind the other man. He couldn’t be sure he was
trustworthy, but he didn’t have any other options. He didn’t know
where he was or how to get back home. The only thing he was certain
of was that home was no longer an hour’s ride away. His heart
flopped in his chest as Richard led him to Faith. The prickling of tears
gathered behind his eyes at the sight of his beloved horse, unharmed
and tranquil. He turned toward the man, speechless.

“I thought you wouldn’t want to leave without her.”
James nodded. He dipped his head, hiding his face in his

horse’s neck, glad to have her back and overwhelmed by the man’s
presence. He was being too kind.

“We must go.”
James gasped as firm fingers grasped his shoulder, sizzling

lightning coursing through him. He veered around, surprised to find
Richard looking as confused as he, his tanned face darker by a red
blush that spread down his neck.

“Certainly,” he managed to say, gathering Faith’s reins.

“Would you like to ride her?” James snapped his mouth shut.
Whatever had prompted him to ask that? To his relief Richard shook
his head, long hair hiding his face.

“We’ll ride together,” he said.
“Wh-what?” James stammered.
“Only for a short while. We can get further away if we ride her

together than if we walk.” He took the reins from James and easily
mounted the horse. “Come on, you shall ride in front of me, as you

know how to lead her better.” Richard glanced back toward the
cavern of sleeping men. “Hurry,” he said.

James couldn’t refuse, not when the men could wake at any

moment and pursue them. He climbed atop his horse, as told. His
back molded to Richard’s, his body betraying him as it melted into the
other man’s embrace. Richard pulled him hard against him, his body
enveloping James in an almost suffocating hug.

“Go,” he whispered huskily into his ear, his breath fanning it.

James pressed his thighs against Faith’s flanks, hoping the animal
would understand, considering the strange position she was in. She
did, for she set off at a trot in the direction Richard indicated. They
galloped in silence, trees whirring by them, snow flying when they
swept past. James’ eyes widened and he barely controlled the urge to
order Faith to stop as he realized their impasse.

“Richard, the hoof prints, the snow.” James pointed at the

visible trail. “They’ll track us down as easily as the king’s hounds
trace a fox.”

Richard’s breath was warm in his ear. His hair tickled his

temple and James had to suppress a shiver.

“I know.” Richard chuckled. “Don’t worry. I have a plan,

besides wishing that they’ll wake up during the night and we’ll be
miles away by then or that it snows heavily again.”

James wished he didn’t have to worry, but he couldn’t relax.

The problem wasn’t so much the thieves that could pursue them at
any moment, but the man behind him. He was too close, too
comforting, and all too desirable. James shifted in his seat again,
trying to find a comfortable position. One in which he wasn’t pressed
up tightly against Richard’s groin. One in which James didn’t imagine
he felt the length of Richard’s cock hard against him. Because, he was
convinced it was his imagination. Otherwise, how could a man like
Richard be interested in him? It didn’t make any sense. In his
experience, men like Richard were ladies’ men. They seduced, fucked
and discarded women. He wasn’t a woman and he’d been rejected too
many times in his life. He didn’t need this. He didn’t need more pain.
Richard’s fingers brushed against his side, the fingers digging into his
flesh and distracting him as arousal flared in every centimeter of his
flesh.

“What got you into thievery?” he asked, attempting to forget

how close their bodies were.

Richard grunted in reply and he fell silent once more, fishing

his mind for a topic of conversation. It came up blank. He thought
about asking Richard to stop. Faith was probably tiring, though she
didn’t show it and surely, they were safe by now. He should ask.
James knew he should, but he couldn’t. He was losing his mind,
falling prey to the liquid fire that was consuming him inside and
outside. He wasn’t sure if the man was hard, but he was. His cock was
stiff and throbbing, the idea of taking or being taken by Richard
flashing through his mind every time Faith bounced.

What would it feel like?
Flesh both silky and hard as steel brushing against him, an

intimate caress, deep and longing. They’d become one man, writhing,
gasping, and moaning. James’ breath hitched, the tightness in his
breeches becoming uncomfortable. He clenched his teeth together and
grasped the reins so tightly the material cut into his hands. He
scrambled to regain his bearings, to remember whom he was with and
what had occurred in the last 48 hours. He couldn’t trust Richard, but
neither could he trust his treacherous body. He was not a beautiful
man. Surely the thief didn’t want him. The thief. That’s right, Richard
was a thief. He had no morals, no scruples, no—James groaned as
Faith skipped over a fallen log, throwing Richard’s body against him,
the erection he was sure he was imagining grinding against his
bottom.

Chapter Seven

“James.”
Richard had to stop this madness. He had to create distance

between them because if he didn’t, he’d stop the horse and claim
James right then and there, regardless of their plight. Regardless of
everything. His erection was straining against the other man’s tight
ass, relentlessly pulsating ever since they’d meshed together on that
horse, their bodies tight against one another. His cock was twitching
and begging to fill the dark cavern of delight just inches away from
him. He wanted James badly, and if his ears didn’t deceive him James
wanted him just as much. His groan hadn’t been one of pain or
distaste. It had been a sound of pure male arousal, the same sound
Richard was forcing himself to swallow back time and time again.

“James.”
Hoarse. His voice was raspy and low, and God—James

glanced at him, large blue eyes brimming with unspoken desire and
fear.

“We have to stop. Faith is probably tired.” Where? Where had

he found the strength to utter those words? James nodded and looked
away, easily controlling his mare to a standstill. Misery shrouded
Richard. He knew what it was that had given him strength: it was the
fear he still saw in James’ eyes. That was something he didn’t want to
see. It was absurd of him to consider that James liked him. He was
one of his abductors, despite saving James’ life. His proximity was
having an effect. That was all.

James scrambled off Faith and Richard followed, uncertain

what to say or if he should speak at all. He led the way, James and
Faith trailing behind him through the heavy snow. Richard crossed his
arms over his chest, keeping his hands in his underarms. He was cold.
Not only in a physical way, but also inside. Ever since they descended
from the horse, an uncomfortable silence had settled over them like a
cape. The forest path was wide enough for them to walk abreast, but
James kept his distance. He was desperate to break the silence, to cast
it aside and speak, but he kept his head down, his eyes on the invisible
trail ahead of them.

“Do you think they will follow us?” James’ quiet voice

reached him from behind. Richard chanced a glance at the other man.

“I’m uncertain. I believe they will, if only because of their

pride. Though how far they will search, I cannot say.” He paused,
considering his next words. “We have not stolen anything of value to
them.”

“Not even me?”
Richard veered around so fast, the world spun. Dancing blue

eyes full of laughter gazed at him.

“You jest.”
“Yes.”
Richard smiled, pleasantly surprised by the turn of things.
“We should continue heading that way,” he said. He remained

silent for a few more steps, trying to find a way to tell James that he
was more than valuable. “You are valuable,” he blurted, incapable of
finding the right words. “To me, you are priceless.” James’ face
turned ashen and Richard wondered what he’d said wrong. “I
apologize. Sometimes I let my tongue wag before my brains can catch
up. I’m a constant source of trouble. I meant no disrespect.”

James barely looked his way as they continued to trudge

through the forest. Light was quickly failing, the oncoming night
creeping. The temperature dropped and the moon rose, the soft white
light bathing everything and creating a land of ice and shadows before
their eyes.

“Where are we going?” Richard glanced at James. His face

was grim, his hands in his pockets.

“Well.” He cleared his voice. “I thought we’d cross the river,

just in case, to lose the villains,” he explained. “Then I shall guide
you home. Though, you must tell me where that is.”

“Oh,” James chewed on his bottom lip as if perusing the

question. “I recently acquired the Grant home. It was where I was
headed before this ordeal. Do you know where it is?”

“Aye, it’s a few hours ride from Belmonte, far away from all

the surrounding towns and villages. Looking for solitude, eh?”

James didn’t reply. “How about you?” he asked, “Where is

home?”

Richard shrugged. He wasn’t sure what he would do. He had

no home to return to and the idea of asking his brother for help
frightened him.

“Do you have a home?”

James’ quiet question stirred his heart. Richard used to have a

home, or at least that was what he thought. His life had been nice and
comfortable until his employer took to thinking that he was bedding
his wife. As if.

He ran his fingers through his hair, swearing as they tangled.

Ever since he joined the thieves, he hadn’t bathed or combed his hair.
Good God, what James must think of him. He probably looked like a
barbarian or worse, like a wild bear. Smelled like one, too. He
groaned and stole a glance at the man silently padding behind him,
leading his horse. No wonder he looked scared of him half the time.
Richard blew his breath onto his hands, warming them. Abruptly, he
remembered James’ earlier injury.

“How’s your hand?” he asked, changing the subject and

glancing at James’ injured hand. “You’re lucky it was Oswald that
shot you. The man couldn’t kill a bear if it stood a foot away from
him.”

James gave him a fleeting smile. “It’s okay. I’ve had worse.”
“You have?”
James nodded, not offering any more information. Richard

thought of asking, but then again, he too had deflected his earlier
question. Perhaps, that had always been his error. Hiding from people
behind a mask, pretending he was someone he wasn’t. Everyone
thought him large and stupid. The handsome brute, without any brains
… He was the piece of meat the women looked for when in need of
excitement in bed and men mocked for his uselessness. He had to
admit that it was a comfortable life, living like that. He answered
questions with a grunt or a fist. He didn’t have to worry about
anything because no one minded him. Yet, with James everything felt
different. James, even through his apprehension, seemed to care and
Richard managed––for him––to talk more than he had in a lifetime.
What was worse, he wanted to talk. He wanted to share his hopes,
dreams, and emotions. He wanted James to know how he was feeling
and in turn, he wanted to know the blond man inside and out. It was a
strange thing, and something he’d never experienced before.

“I used to have a home.” Richard swallowed, nerves making

his palms sweaty even in the cold. “Fairford, down south, close to the
sea. My family is from there.” He chanced a glance at James to see if
he was listening. He was. Quickly returning his gaze to the path, he

continued. “We grew up poor but we were happy, at least until Mama
married a third time.”

“What happened?”
Richard shrugged. “He wasn’t a good man. Beat her and us.

My brothers started to leave. Some went into the army, others found a
profession, others,” Richard swallowed hard, remembering his
youngest sibling. “Died.”

“I’m sorry.” He bit back a surprised gasp as James grasped his

arm, his blue eyes full of sincere sorrow.

“Aye.” Richard scratched his beard, in an attempt to get rid of

the sad thought. “That was the last straw for me. I picked up my
things and left. One of my brothers took me in. I lived for a while
with him, but I knew it was not a permanent solution. Eventually, I
found an apprenticeship and installed myself there.”

“What did you learn?”
Richard smiled, glancing at James. A funny feeling spread

across his chest. James hadn’t removed his hand from his arm.

“Carpentry.”
“Is it so?”
Richard chuckled at James’ unsuppressed enthusiasm. “Yes.

You sound excited,” he pointed out with a smile. James flushed. He
removed his hand, and placed it back in his pocket.

“I’ve never been too handy with manual things.”
“Nothing wrong with that. I’m sure you’re good at other

things,” he said. James looked away, a slight pinkish tone highlighting
his cheeks.

“So what happened?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

“Why did you leave? Didn’t you like it?”

“Like it?” Richard shook his head. “I didn’t like it. I loved

carpentry. The feel of the wood, rough and primeval in my hands... To
have the ability to mold it, bend it to my will. To make it something
beautiful and useful.” Richard paused, recalling the sweet smell of the
sawdust permeating the air, the sweat coating down his back as he
sawed into the wood, making it into something else other than a tree.
He glanced at James, who seemed to be waiting for him to continue.
He was beautiful. Had he the material he would have carved him,
immortalized him in wood forever. His mouth dried and Richard
struggled to continue.

“Why did you leave?” James prompted as if on cue.

“I had to. My employer thought I had bedded his wife and he

threatened me.”

“That’s horrible.”
Richard nodded. He didn’t tell James that the threat had been

more than verbal. He’d been pulled out of his bed, stripped and
assaulted. The townspeople had gathered round to watch the
spectacle. The carpenter had screamed at him and accused him in
front of everybody of bedding his wife. She didn’t deny it, either.
Shocked, Richard stood there. Naked, confused, hurt that no one came
to his defense. Conscious that everyone thought him a dupe and he
was little more than the town’s fool. Someone pushed him and he fell,
hard. There was laughter. Uproarious. Mocking. The horrible sound
still echoed in his ears at night. A kick was aimed at him and he’d
snapped. The laughter died and turned into screams. The dirt turned
into blood. He’d been so close to killing a man that his hands still
trembled when he thought about it.

“Is that how you finished with the thieves?”
Richard nodded, glad for the distraction. “Yes.”
“Why not go to one of your brothers? Surely, they would have

helped you.”

“Indeed.” Richard muttered. “They would have,” Morti had in

fact offered. Barely living three days’ ride away, as soon as he heard
the trouble Richard was in, he offered him shelter and solace. “I
couldn’t put them in that position. Especially my eldest brother…after
all he’d done for me, I couldn’t put his life at risk. He had a wife now,
a farm. He was living a happy life.”

James’ brow knitted together, as if he were deep in thought.

Richard found the gesture endearing. “The carpenter meant to kill
you.”

“Yes.” Richard sighed. There would be no way out of this. “I

almost killed him, instead.”

James didn’t say anything, he simply placed his hand on his

arm again, comforting. “So you left town and encountered Pete and
his band.”

Richard nodded. “Yes. I ended up in these same woods and

they discovered me. They thought they could steal from me but I
played my usual role. No intelligence, a lot of muscle. I didn’t have
anything they could steal anyway, so instead I offered to help them
out in case of, well,” Richard shrugged, “violence. In exchange I’d

have something to eat and somewhere to stay, even if that cave was
none too comfortable.” He managed a smile, but James’ stern gaze
dissipated it.

“Only muscle? You are more than brute strength, Richard.

Anyone can see that.” James licked his lips and looked to the floor.
“You wouldn’t have gotten me out of there otherwise, nor would you
be offering to guide me home. Your plan was brilliant and…” He
lifted his face to Richard’s. “You’re a good man. We wouldn’t be
here otherwise.” James punctuated his words with a swooping gesture
that encompassed their surroundings.

Richard’s neck burned and his heart pattered in his chest at an

alarming rate. Something akin to butterflies fluttered in his stomach.

“Thank you,” he muttered. Flustered, he passed a hand

through his hair, the need to justify himself suddenly imperative. “I
know I shouldn’t have run off like that. Maybe I should have tried
talking with the carpenter, his wife, the police, but I just wanted to get
away. I needed to get away. I guess I brought the whole thing upon
myself.”

“What do you mean?”
Richard blew his warm breath on his stiff hands. “My life was

all ‘pretend’. I did what people told me to do. I acted like they thought
I should act, but I never…” He looked at James. The man returned his
gaze with one of his own. Richard’s heart jolted at the sight of the
man before him, eyes bright and cheeks rosy from the cold. There was
no harsh judgment, no skeptical smile on his lips, simply curiosity. “I
never did what I wanted to do. I never stood up for what I wanted. Do
you understand?”

“I do,” James whispered. “More than you would know.”
“Tell me about it,” Richard begged. Without thinking, he

grasped James’ hand, squeezing the soft yet strong fingers. James
shivered but he didn’t remove his hand.

“Don’t you have any gloves?”
Richard grinned. “They stained with the berries. They’re in

your saddlebag.”

James stopped walking to search in the bag. With a triumphant

smile, he pulled out Richard’s gloves. “I don’t care that they’re
stained and if the men catch us, they will know you poisoned them
anyhow.”

Like a splash of icy water, they became silent, recalling why

they were trudging through snow at night. James handed him the
gloves and put his hands in his pockets, drawing away from him.
Anxiety grappled with loss deep inside of him.

“I never stole anything,” he blurted aloud, desperately trying

to rekindle the connection he’d felt with James, only moments before.
“I’d barely been with the band for two weeks when you appeared and
they’ve been holing up most of the time. Pete is a drunkard, and the
other men…”

“You did steal something,” James interrupted. Richard felt his

blood drain from his face. He looked at James, surprised to find the
other man smiling broadly at him. Richard gaped and James started to
laugh. “My flask,” he said.

Relief swept through Richard and he joined in the laughter.
“I believe you are mistaken,” he said. “For that is my flask. I

lent it to a woman with a baby a few years back. She was traversing
town and didn’t have anything upon her. People didn’t want to help
her because she looked old and sickly. They thought she would infect
them but she had a baby.” Richard shook his head, outraged at the
way his townspeople had acted. “I fed her and offered her my room
for the night without my employer ever knowing.” He smiled. “The
next morning she asked one last favor of me, something so she could
carry milk for the babe. The only thing I had was my flask so I
offered it to her. She promised to return it and said that my kindness
would one day be repaid, but I never saw her again, and you can see
how well my kindness has been repaid,” he muttered.

“Well, it wasn’t a woman who gave me the flask. It was a

man.” James had grown thoughtful, his light brows almost meeting in
the middle as he pondered something. “Does one of your brothers live
in the forest?” he asked.

Richard nodded. “Yes, Mor…”
“Mortimer Randywine.”
“That’s my brother. You’ve met?”
“I lost my way in the forest during the snowstorm and he

found me. When I left, he told me that a woman had given him the
flask to return to his step-brother, but since you had vanished he
thought I could put it to better use.”

“Sounds like my brother, always helping others.” Richard’s

smile waned as a sound caught his attention. Bloody magpie. “This
way,” he said, grasping James’ arm and pulling him to the left.

“What is it?”
He shook his head and put his finger over his lips, indicating

they should be as quiet as possible. Richard guided them toward a
shadow clump of trees silently wishing that Faith were a dog and not
a horse. He guessed the thieves poison had probably already worn out,
but he couldn’t fathom how they could have reached them so fast.
God knew what they would do to them if they found them. Richard
had no doubt that he would be killed. His eyes riveted toward James.
Startled, he realized that they stood shoulder-to-shoulder, James’ hand
in his. Warm, strong, comforting. All he had to do was twist his head
and find James’ lips. Heat warmed the back of his neck and his cock
twitched in appreciation of the idea. He looked away, straining his
ears for the out of place sound that had caught his attention in the first
place. Had he imagined it? They waited in strained silence, their
breaths held. Time elapsed slowly. A cool breeze made his eyes
water. They’d been standing there for too long. It was time to move
again, lest they freeze to death. He turned his head and froze.

James was looking at him, blue eyes gentle and mouth slightly

parted. Richard took in a shaky breath. The way James was staring at
him…He dug his nails onto the soft moss off the tree at his side, but it
was to no avail. He had to have a taste of that soft mouth. Just once,
just this once he would do what he wanted to do. He dipped his head,
uncertain. James closed the distance between them, his soft lips
brushing over his in a kiss that warmed him inside and out. Richard
groaned. Surely, this was some dream, a marvelous dream. He applied
more pressure to the kiss, nipping at James’ bottom lip. James gasped
and pulled away. Richard blinked. He struggled for air. James turned
away from him and tended to Faith, who was calmly eating some
leaves. Richard swallowed. He could taste a little of the man and he
wanted more. Much more.

“James.”

Chapter Eight

James petted Faith absently. What had he done? One moment,

he was hiding, cowering in fear behind some branches and the next—
he rested his cheek on Faith’s smooth back. The next he was looking
at Richard and admiring his strong jaw, his wide lips, his dark eyes.
He didn’t mind the beard or the wild hair. The man before him was
appealing to him on a baser level and before he could stop to think he
was touching his lips to him. James swallowed a groan. One taste,
he’d taken a taste without permission and the memories returned to
him in a terrifying rush.

What’s wrong with you? How dare you kiss me?
“James.”
He squared his shoulders. He thought he saw something in

Richard’s eyes but he shouldn’t have presumed. Presumption always
led to trouble, just like with Alfred. James passed a tired hand across
his face, wishing he were in his new home, away from everyone and
everything.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“You didn’t mean to?” Richard’s face transformed, anger and

repulsion in his features. “You didn’t mean to?” he repeated.

James shook his head, unable to find the words to say what he

really felt. He was lying through his teeth, as he always did. It was a
question of survival. If you lied and said that things didn’t hurt, you
survived. You lived through the cruel laughter, the pushes, and the
cuts. Yet, this time, it didn’t seem enough. Pain squeezed his chest.
He had meant the kiss, of course he had and if given the option he’d
have more, but men like Richard didn’t look at him in that way. He
wasn’t what they wanted.

You are disgusting. The other boys warned me not to be your

friend, that you were not like the rest of us, but I felt sorry for you.
They were right. You’re ugly and stupid.

But … Alfred … I thought—
That I would appreciate your frog mouth on mine? What kind

of idiot are you? I like girls, not monsters.

“Come on, then. I clearly made a mistake,” Richard snarled,

and stalked off.

James followed a few steps behind, his legs trembling so badly

he thought he would collapse. Faith snorted and touched her head to

his back, pushing him toward Richard. He shook his head. It wouldn’t
do. They had to get out of here, away from this dark forest and its
dangers.

They walked in silence for a long time, the night wearing on.

He was exhausted. His head hurt and his stomach growled. The broth
Richard had fed him at the cave long gone. Furthermore, there was an
ache in his chest he couldn’t shake off. They didn’t speak, marching
in silence through the forest. He wanted to ask how far they had yet to
go, but he didn’t dare. Dawn found them still in the forest, walking in
silence. James didn’t know how long he’d be able to take it. If it had
at least been a comfortable silence he could have dealt with it, but this
was a silence that spoke of hurt. It was a silence full of tension.

“I’m sorry,” he finally blurted, unable to keep quiet any

longer.

“What?”
“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have kissed you. I guess I got

caught up in the moment.”

Richard’s gaze flared and he turned his back on him once

more. James balked. Should he say anything else?

“I know I am not attractive and I understand your disgust…”

the words tumbled out of his mouth.

“Not attractive? Disgust?” Richard froze, glaring at him with

open astonishment. “Are you blind?”

“What? No.” James’ brows knitted together.
“You must be if you consider yourself ugly,” Richard snapped,

marching through the forest in large angry strides. “There is no need
for you to search for poor excuses to appease me,” he grunted.

James was stunned. He didn’t understand what was happening.

Normally, people repudiated him because his distasteful countenance.
He was, as he’d been told repeatedly, a sour sight to the eyes, but the
man before him seemed aghast that he should even consider such a
thing. Indignation flared in his breast as he considered the only viable
option: Richard was mocking him.

“Excuses? There is no need for you to taunt me, sir. I am

quite aware of my defects as they are.”

“Defects?” Richard rounded up on him. James recoiled in

trepidation. “What are you talking about?”

He was tired of living life like this. He had moved to the

countryside for a reason and he would see to it that no one mocked

him again, even if he lost his guide through the forest and starved to
death.

“Don’t you see it? The feminine lips, the narrow hips, the

girlish face structure, the scars. I am by no means a handsome man. I
don’t even look like a man.”

Rough fingers grasped his chin, tilting his head up.
“The full lips that demand kisses every second of the hour, the

eyes that speak volumes with just a gaze, the scars that show your
bravery under the cowardice of others.” His other hand slipped to his
hips, and he pulled him snug against him. James gasped at the rush of
adrenaline as his nether regions came to contact with Richard’s
erection.

“And the hips, perfect to draw you into me.” Richard licked

his lips, his gaze narrowing on James’ lips once more.

“I have more scars,” James said, desperate to find an anchor to

hold onto, something that would keep him afloat the dark sea of desire
dancing in Richard’s eyes.

“I don’t care about scars, James,” Richard whispered, lowering

his head so that his forehead was touching his and his dark hair was
around them, creating a private curtain. “I also have scars. Inside and
out. We all do.”

“You want me?” he whispered, uncertainty lacing his tone. His

heart drummed so loudly he thought Richard could hear it.

“More than anything I’ve ever wanted,” Richard replied,

brushing his lips against his. “You are blind to your own beauty,
James, not only your external appearance but also that which you
harbor inside.” Richard placed the flat of his palm against James’
chest, above his heart. “I barely know you but for a few hours and I
can see that you are a good man. You have been hurt in the past and
though you are not physically powerful, you still stand strong as an
oak. You are intelligent, well mannered, and caring. You are beautiful
inside and out.”

Speechless, James shook his head. Tears stuck to his lashes.

No one had ever said anything remotely similar to him. Richard
kissed him softly, the touch of lips barely a whisper.

“Let’s take you home.”

****

James sighed, strangely content. His mind was still reeling

with what Richard had said but he forced himself to push the thoughts

away and relax. He couldn’t. Richard’s words echoed in his mind and
the knowledge that he had bathed in the same copper tub caused his
body to react in most decadent ways.

The trek through the last leg of the woods still felt like a

dream. They hadn’t spoken a word since their conversation. All their
communication for the remainder of the excursion was done with
glimpses and glances. By the time James saw his manor in the
distance, he wasn’t sure any of it had happened. Except, for that one
moment when Mathilde had led Richard away to bathe and he’d
turned back to smile at him. James groaned. It was only a smile, an
upward curving of the lips, but even hidden beneath his heavy beard,
it spoke volumes. James shuddered. There was promise and a certain
longing in Richard’s eyes that even now he was afraid to face. What if
he was wrong? What if he wasn’t enough for the large man? What if
there was nothing there but a slight fancy of his imagination? What
if, now that they were safe, it had all been but a momentary madness?

James shook his head. He’d asked Richard and he’d responded

that he did want him. Perhaps, they would only have a night, a few
hours, but he would have it and live with that memory even if it were
the only thing he’d ever have. His cock responded to the idea with a
twitch and he knew that he had to do it. Water dripped from his body
as he quickly stepped out of it, drying himself off with the woven
linen Mathilde had placed nearby. He donned his clean clothes, a shirt
and trousers, dismissing the vest and coat laid out for him. It was
unorthodox, but after the hours spent in the forest, he felt the need for
some ease of movement. Standing tall, James went in search of
Richard.

Chapter Nine

James knocked softly against the guest bedroom door. No

sound came from inside. Bracing himself, he opened the door a sliver.
He glimpsed inside the dim room. The curtains had been drawn and
the only source of light came from the roaring fireplace to the right.
His gaze wandered over the window seat, across the simple rug and to
the four-poster bed.

His heart jolted at the sight of Richard. He lay on his side,

covered in blankets and fast asleep. A certain sense of relief mingled
with disappointment coursed through James. He drew the door closed,
stopping at the last moment as Richard’s voice filtered through.

“Don’t go.”
A fresh bout of nerves made his flesh prickle and the hair on

his arms stand. For an instant, he contemplated pretending that he had
not heard, but the feeling didn’t last as his feet propelled him into the
bedroom.

“I thought you were asleep,” he whispered, closing the door

behind him to keep the heat inside. His jaw dropped as he took a good
look at Richard. The man grinned, sharp dimples digging tiny holes
on his cheeks and giving him a mischievous air. “You shaved,” he
blurted out.

Richard chuckled and nodded. “Horace, your manservant,

aided me.” He patted the bed, offering James a seat. James hesitated.

“You still fear me?” The heavy tone in Richard’s voice

squeezed his heart and he moved toward Richard, even as his mind
quaked with nerves.

“No,” he confessed, sitting at the foot of the bed. “I don’t fear

you.” He licked his lips, searching for the right words. “I fear us.”

“Us?” Richard sat up, the blanket dropping from his chest,

revealing that he wore nothing underneath. James’ breath hitched as
the other man scooted forward. His fingers itched with the urge to
touch him, to run his digits across the hard expanse of flesh and tangle
them in the coarse hair heavily dusting it.

James nodded, unable to voice his concern as Richard brushed

his thumb across his bottom lip.

“There is a connection between us, James. You know it as well

as I do.” Richard grasped his hand, and kissed the palm before placing
it on his chest. James gasped at the contact, the flesh below hard and

warm, and the heat exuding from it causing his body to react in turn.
“We could turn our backs to it or we could let the flickering flame
that’s dancing between us grow into a wild fire.” Richard leaned into
him, skimming his lips with his own. “All my life I’ve lived behind a
mask, James, but no more. I want you and I admit it openly. Embrace
this.” He pressed his lips hard against James’ mouth, causing him to
groan.

Almost unconsciously, James moved closer. His other hand

curled at Richard’s neck, deepening their kiss. He wanted this as
much as the other man, perhaps even more. The tip of Richard’s
tongue slid over his bottom bow, beckoning him to open. James
complied. He moaned as Richard’s tongue slid against his in an
intimate caress. He responded by rolling his tongue against Richard’s,
sweeping in and pulling back. Richard groaned and pulled him onto
his lap. James grasped his shoulder, holding on tightly as his world
became nothing more than the sensual touch of Richard’s mouth, the
heat of their bodies and the arousal building in him. Even through the
blankets he could feel the pressure of Richard’s erection prodding his
backside.

“I want to taste you. All of you,” James whispered, pulling

back to brush gentle butterfly kisses on Richard’s jaw.

“And I you,” Richard replied, tangling his fingers in his hair

and kissing him softly. Richard’s hands moved beneath his shirt, the
coarse hands bringing tingles of pleasure to James. Carelessly, he
shoved his shirt off and cast it aside. He advanced toward Richard,
but the other man stopped him. Grasping his chin between his fingers,
he gazed deep into his eyes.

“How could you ever doubt your beauty?”
Sincerity, desire, and emotions he couldn’t quite put a name

to, danced in the dark orbs. James didn’t reply. Placing his hand over
Richard’s, he nuzzled into the embrace. Richard smiled. Turning his
head, he kissed James’ cheek. The one with the crisscross of scars,
created by a band of children that knew no better than to harm those
they didn’t understand. Tears welled in James’ eyes at the tenderness.
The sadness vanished as Richard peeled the blankets off him
completely and kneeled at his side. He kissed his jaw and ran the tip
of his tongue across it, stopping to suck on his chin. James groaned. A
part of him wanted him to close his eyes and enjoy the attention being
lavished on his body but another part, wanted to look, touch and taste.

The thought became lost as Richard slowly plucked the buttons on
James’ trousers. His fingers brushed against his plump cock,
hardening it further. His ass clenched in excitement as the flap finally
fell to the side, fully revealing his manhood. James groaned and
slapped the eager hands away. Richard chuckled as he scampered to
his feet and removed the rest of his constraining garment.

“Beautiful,” Richard said huskily.
“Like you,” James said, finally finding his voice. “Inside and

out,” he said, taking Richard’s outstretched hand and climbing back
onto the bed with him.

Richard wrapped his arms around him, drawing him into his

embrace. James lay over him, grounding his hips against Richard’s,
fighting the urge to squirm or grab his erection. He planted a kiss on
Richard’s soft mouth and sat up, straddling him. Richard watched him
with twinkling eyes, waiting for him to make the next movement.
James observed his lover splayed out beneath him.

Richard was impressive, as he knew he would be. Hard, toned

muscle flexed beneath him, taunting him to take a taste. His mouth
watered. James’ gaze dropped further, landing on the thick rod
standing at attention next to his. The purplish head gleamed with
precome under the firelight. Richard wasn’t long like James, but he
was thick.

James slid the tips of his fingers across the hard length,

bending down at the same time to kiss across Richard’s pectorals.
Richard groaned, wiggling beneath James. With the flat of his tongue,
James pressed against the hard little nub of Richard’s nipple, drawing
a strangled moan from him. In response, James’ cock throbbed and
his ass clenched.

He lavished attention on the other nipple, tweaking one with

his fingers while licking the other. Richard’s hips undulated beneath
him, mimicking lovemaking. A tremor ran through James at the
prospect of becoming one with the man in his arms. He kissed down
Richard’s stomach, smiling against the way his muscles rippled at the
sensual touch.

James kissed a path to his thighs, suckling on the soft skin of

his hips. Richard squirmed and cursed but James ignored him. He
couldn’t help smiling at the loud intake of Richard’s breath when he
nuzzled his furry sacks. He touched the tip of his tongue to them,
drawing lazy circles against the silky skin. Richard growled from

deep within, the sound reverberating through James and causing his
cock to drip clear fluid. He slid his tongue higher, tickling the hard
length of his cock from base to top. Richard’s hips lifted off the
mattress and an expletive dropped from his lips. James chuckled to
himself. He teased the leaking crown of Richard’s thick cock, inviting
another curse. Opening his mouth wide, James took in the bulbous
head, moaning with pleasure. He had only done this once before and
it was nothing like this. Richard’s cock tasted good. He couldn’t
explain it but there was something about the musky flavor on his
tongue that amped his arousal. Delighted at the discovery, James
swirled his tongue over the head and swallowed more. Richard’s hand
curled around his hair, spurring him on without constraining him.
James moaned and reached for the base of Richard’s cock, pressuring
it before sliding his fingers further down while drawing his head back
up to the tip. He sucked him back into his mouth, and idly played with
Richard’s hole, teasing it in gentle circles.

“James.” Richard croaked his name and pulled his hair, a fair

warning of what was to come. James paid him no heed, redoubling his
efforts instead. His lips around Richard’s cock he teased with his
tongue and sucked from top to bottom and back again. Gently, he
pushed a finger into Richard’s tight ring of muscles. Richard groaned
and released James’ hair. He inserted another finger inside, probing
and exploring the sweet passage in a seesaw movement. Without
warning, Richard’s hips arched and he exploded. Hot jets of semen
filled James’ mouth and trickling down his throat as he eagerly
swallowed it.

Taking a shaky breath, James pulled out his fingers and looked

at Richard. The sight before him brought his arousal to new heights.
The large man had his eyes closed. His mouth parted as he struggled
for air. James’ body tingled with desire, his cock throbbing almost
painfully and his backside clenching and unclenching, begging for a
solution to his predicament. James grasped his cock and spread the
clear fluid coating the head like a glistening cape. He shuddered as
arousal slammed into him. Barely holding back, he stroked his length.
His breath picked up and he groaned as he felt the warning tingle on
his sack that announced his oncoming orgasm.

“Don’t you dare put that to waste…”

Richard's dark sensual voice cut through him, breaking his

concentration. James squeezed his cock and looked at his lover. A
playful smile grazed his lips. "I demand a taste," he said, sitting up
and pushing James against the bedspread.

James didn’t have time to react as Richard pulled him into his

throat again and again. His balls tightened. Almost desperately, he
tugged Richard’s hair.

“Stop,” he begged between heavy breaths.
Richard sat up, grinning wildly. James bit down on his bottom

lip and breathed heavily threw his nose. After an instant, he glanced
up at Richard.

“I want to…”
“I want it too,” Richard replied. He rolled back onto the bed

and spread his legs wide, offering himself to him. James groaned and
his mouth watered just as his cock throbbed angrily. He didn’t waste
any more time and kneeled between Richard’s legs. Wetting two of
his fingers with his mouth, he brought them to the other man’s hole.
Richard grasped his thighs and spread himself wider.

James hesitated. Sweat coated Richard’s body, his rippling

muscles glistening under the firelight. He was open and vulnerable for
James. Richard had his own scars, one with James couldn’t see but
that lay beneath the hard exterior. Yet, he was perusing him with open
trust and emotion. The mask he’d spoken about earlier, now gone.
James’ heart constricted. They had walked through a storm together
and come out victorious. There would be more, but he suddenly knew
that at Richard’s side, the sun would always be there for them to
grasp, together.

“James,” Richard grunted, bringing him back to the matters at

head. He winked at Richard and bent his head, licking his lover’s
entrance in tight circles that drew whimpers from his pursed lips.
Finally, he probed the clenching hole, making sure that it was
drenched with his saliva before inserting two fingers. Richard moaned
and quivered beneath his touch. His head thrashed from side to side as
James spread his fingers wide inside of his tight channel, opening him
up for what was to come.

Unable to hold back any longer, he pulled out his fingers and

placed the head of his cock against Richard’s opening. Slowly, he
breached through the tight ring of muscles, marveling at the way they
accommodated to his girth. Richard cursed. No doubt, at the burning

sensation but he also arched against him, silently begging for more.
James pushed his way inside. His grunt mingled with Richard’s as he
finally seated himself deeply into the hot channel.

“Are you okay?” James asked through clenched teeth.
“Yes,” Richard hissed.
Breathless at the tightness gripping his cock in a vise, James

pulled pack. Richard gasped. James drove himself forward again,
grunting. James leaned forward, holding himself up by his elbows he
kissed Richard hard while pistoning in and out of his heat. Richard
reached between them, jerking on his once more erect cock.

“James.”
His name tumbled from Richard’s lips like a prayer. James

shut his eyes and drove himself into Richard one last time, crying out
his name as his orgasm washed over him. He collapsed into Richard’s
arms, breathless, sweaty and happier than he’d ever been in his life.
Coarse, equally sweaty hands stroked his hair and his back.

"Beautiful,” Richard whispered into his ear. He kissed his

temple. James turned his head and pressed his lips against Richard’s
in a gentle kiss.

“Beautiful,” James murmured bumping his nose against

Richard’s. He felt the other man smile as he bent in to kiss him
softly, tenderly, lovingly.

Epilogue

Soussanna grasped Morgana’s hand as they watched the happy

pair of men walking through a flower garden that was just beginning
to bloom. A measure of pride mixed with satisfaction flourished in
her breast. At long last, Soussanna had been able to repay the man
called Richard the favor he had once conceded to her. She glanced at
her daughter, who seemed absorbed in observing the two men. James
Macintosh owed them a favor now, even if he would never know the
extent of their deed. Her brows knitted together as an icy cold seeped
through her ancient bones. Something told her that in the future, when
they came to claim their favor from James, she would no longer be
around. She shuddered, hoping her impression was wrong.

Morgana pulled at her hand, demanding her attention.

“Mama,” she said. “Was it really necessary for Mr. Macintosh to meet
the Randywine couple?”

“Why, my child, of course, that was a key element.” Turning

her back on the lovers, Soussanna led her daughter away from the
house and back to the path. “The small things are many times what
create the ripple effect of larger things. If James had not met the
caring pair before the thieves, he would not have battled for his life.
The thieves would have done away with him and he would have let
them, for he had nothing to look forward to, nothing but solitude and
eventual despair.”

Morgana nodded, understanding clear in her eyes. “It makes

sense, but wouldn’t have Richard helped him regardless?”

Soussanna shrugged. “He would have tried, I am certain, but a

man that cannot see his own worth would have been unable to see
further than his own nose. He would have been blind to all around
him, kind and unkind, as he was before.”

Morgana made a small sound of disapproval at the back of her

throat and glanced back toward the country house in the distance.

“I’m glad it worked out.” The child smiled and pulled away

from Soussanna’s hold. Skipping ahead, she began to chant a nursery
rhyme taught to her at a younger age. Soussanna shook her head,
marveling at her daughter. One moment, she was an ordinary child,
singing, playing, learning––and the next, she was a woman wise
beyond her years.

“I am also happy … but where shall we go now, child?”

Morgana stopped in her tracks and closed her eyes tightly.

Soussanna observed her. Sunshine illuminated her features and a soft
wind blew her dark locks across her face. Her little nose was wrinkled
and her mouth set in a thin line of concentrated determination as she
saw things behind her lids that only she could glimpse.

“South,” Morgana finally said. “There’s a man and three

women that need our help.”

Soussanna smiled. Crouching, she gathered her child in her

arms and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Off we go, then. There is still a
long way ahead.”

The End

www.inadreambeyond.blogspot.com

Other Books by Elyzabeth M. VaLey:

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