Unforgettable Read Free Page A

back on the farm, heading back to the
bothy where Brodick would come.
    ***
    Johnnie muttered under his breath
the whole way back, about the cold, about the plan, about the weird noises, and
about the strange otherworldly aura of the MacFarland farm. Ian stalked
steadily forward, his heart beating more solidly, less panicked with each step
closer to the bothy. Brodick would be there. No way had the man changed his
mind in the months since they'd last met in Aberdeen. Not after he'd proven
himself a solid and faithful lover over the years.
    The quiet familiar nicker of
horses reached his ears before the bothy appeared in the darkness. His skin
prickled in familiar arousal. He stopped walking, eyes searching the darkness.
Brodick was near, he could feel it. His mouth stretched in a grin so huge he
thought his lip would split. Johnnie crashed into his back. "God's blood,
Johnnie! Are ye this observant on the battlefield?" Ian staggered forward
as a man appeared from the darkness and caught him as he stumbled.
    "I've got ye." His
lover's voice was a sweet husky whisper in the sudden stillness.
    Warmth spread in a weakening wave,
and tension left his body. "Aye, Brodick, that ye do."
    "Who's this, then?"
Brodick ducked his head toward Johnnie, who had finally fallen into blessed
silence.
    "'Tis my brother Johnnie. He
wanted to meet ye before we left." Ian glanced back over his shoulder to
see that Johnnie had fallen back a few steps and was studying Brodick with
intensity.
    "Ye were supposed to knock
him out."
    "I'd rather ye didna."
Johnnie found his voice again. "So ye are the MacFarland who's bewitched
my brother?"
    Brodick's low chuckle started a
fire in Ian's belly, stirring lust and emotion alike. "Tend the horses,
Johnnie. I’m still considering the benefits ta knocking ye out."
    Johnnie grunted, but he obeyed,
and Ian was alone with his lover again. At last. "I started a fire
inside."
    Ian didn't answer, just nudged
Brodick in the direction of the tiny hut. Brodick stepped backward, as sure
footed in the dark as any cat, or demon, or even old Clootie himself.
    In seconds they were inside the
rough shelter, and Ian had Brodick exactly where he wanted him, in his arms and
pressed tight to his body. Thank God the man had set aside the English trouser
he wore in Aberdeen and wore his family plaid with the linen shirt. "Ye
are a bonny lad, Brodick," he muttered against damp lips as he loosened
the wool garment with a flick of his wrist. The plaid fell in a puddle of
greens and blues and reds to the ground, but Brodick grasped his wrist,
stilling him as he reached for the fine cock that he'd dreamed of.
    "Yer brother?"
    Ian shook his head. "Johnnie
will sleep under stars. Like many of my kinsmen, he prefers it." He
captured Brodick's mouth in a deep kiss, coaxing Brodick's tongue to duel with
his as he lifted the man up to grind their cocks together again.
    Brodick pulled away, spread the
tartan on the ground. "Then come to me, my love. Let's say farewell to our
old lives in the place where our new lives began." He stretched out on the
fabric, raised his knees, and planted his feet firmly on the ground, giving Ian
a view of gleaming flesh flickering in the firelight. Brodick's long thin cock
lay against his belly. He stroked it slowly, spreading the glistening droplets
from tip to base and back.
    Ian groaned, dropping to his
knees, and pushed his own garments aside. His cock was thick and veiny, not
nearly as pretty a thing as Brodick's. "Aye…Brodick, let me inside."
He stared intently at the fine, still smooth hand that worked over Brodick's
prick with sureness.
    Brodick waved a hand toward the
entrance to the hovel where a satchel lay near the earthen wall. "In my
bag, there's a bottle of oil. It's for injuries of the skin, but it will do, if
ye donna mind the smell."
    Ian scrambled across the expanse on
his knees, lurching the final distance. He found a bottle, amongst the vials
and packets, and returned to his lover.