[Siren Allure ManLove: Erotic Alternative Paranormal Romance, M/M, shape-shifters, HEA]
Craig MacCarrick thought he’d seen it all. He’d collected a fortune and lived well with his Pack. Yet he would give everything up for one more day with the man he’d always love, Matthew James Kashmerle.
Matthew has a bad habit. He dies a lot. And none of it is his fault. The Fates, who never make mistakes, really messed it up. Unfortunately Craig didn’t know this and Matt couldn’t explain.
Morta has had enough. Nona has made a mess, and now no one is offering to clean it up. It is about time these men were put in their rightful places so she can go back and watch her soaps.
With determination, a little luck, a dilapidated farmhouse, an evil hunter, an interfering Fate, and a musty laundry room, these two men may finally find each other.
It is a long shot, but they are both hoping.
A Siren Erotic Romance
2011, Glasgow Airport
Matt looked down at the man who’d taken him from Sheik Unbar, otherwise known as Fred Lancaster, Mr. Kingdom’s plaything and illegal gold and stone dealer.
He remembered everything from his past now, all three hundred seventy years of it. The scent he sensed on that plane had plagued him for years. But now he remembered Craig MacCarrick, now Kashmerle, had been his soul mate. What had triggered the release of his memories he did not know, but he knew it was linked to Craig Kashmerle, his scent in the plane, and his lingering presence in the people who’d rescued him. But it had pushed the cloud away that had covered his mind for so long that he had forgotten it was there.
Matthew looked at the man below him and remembered Alden, too, unfortunately. He didn’t feel the animosity he’d expected toward the man who’d taken his place. He remembered their last conversation and his instructions. Alden continued to call up to him about his lover and how he’d never been in love with Alden. He remembered Morta’s words. “A Band-Aid on loneliness.”
Matthew had had Joe, who had loved him and kept the loneliness at bay for years. Well, until they’d been taken. He would stand by the pact they’d made before they’d been forced apart. They’d promised when they found themselves free again they’d go back to Valletta and their hidden den in their tree and place a note, leaving an address where they could find each other whenever they got out. It was a “no matter what” promise, too. Matthew was going to go back and leave that note telling his lost lover that he was free and near or in Kashmerle. Whether he’d mention Craig or not he did not know. Hell, he didn’t know if the man was his spirit walker this time, though he hoped the Fates were not that cruel.
Matthew listened to Alden’s words, squawking with anger and pain at the reminder before him. Craig still had to find him.
“Don’t go, please don’t go. There is someone you have to meet. He needs you back. He has missed you every single day for the last two hundred sixty-odd years.”
Two hundred and sixty-six, Matthew thought. Two hundred sixty-seven on the fourth of March.
“Please, listen,” Alden said, and he turned in the air to look at him. “Craig Kashmerle. If you are who I believe you to be, that will mean something to you. He’s here at Kashmerle, and he still loves you. Please go home. You know where it is. Go find him, he’s always been yours.”
Matthew understood what Alden was saying, but he knew he couldn’t just fly onto Craig’s roof and let himself in. Craig had to find him, and he had some things he wanted to find out about his beloved Kashmerle and the company that a certain Irish wolf had started. Plus a side trip to Valletta. He dipped his head at the man he had tried to hate and headed off. If Craig wanted him, he could bloody well find him.
* * * *
Kash stood naked on the roof of his apartments. Matthew was supposed to be out there. According to his ex-lover Alden, he was now a peregrine shifter. That was kind of appropriate, he figured, as he thought of the peregrine tattoo covering his back. He’d had it done on the two-hundred-fiftieth anniversary of Matt’s passing, as he had loved the small, graceful bird of prey. Kash had said at the time there were no peregrine shifters, but apparently, there was one now.
He hadn’t believed what the men told him when they’d returned from India, especially when they said he’d flown off when they’d landed in Glasgow, but he couldn’t deny what the Fates had said. Morta had never cut his thread. Nona said she’d respun the thread with his spirit walker in it, and Decima had made sure Matt kept all his memories. But the part that cut deep was the fact they said he couldn’t come to him but Kash could go and find Matt.
Why hadn’t he known? He should have known. Doubts began to flood back into his mind. Even if his Matthew was reincarnated, he still may not be his spirit walker, or even worse, not really Matthew. Though, either way, that would not matter, as this time Matt was a shifter, so he’d last as long as Kash would.
What was he thinking? If—and this was a big if—if this was his Matthew, he couldn’t treat him with so much condescension. His Matthew had been honest and loyal and had never left his side in eighty-one years. But they’d been apart longer than they’d been together.
“And whose bloody fault was that?” Morta’s voice pierced his ears. Looking around, he saw her perched on one of the towers’ pillars. He realised he was naked but didn’t flinch. She’d only laugh, and he was in no mood for humour.
“What do you want?” he asked, wishing he’d already left for his flight.
“Oh nothing, just enjoying the view.” Morta cackled, swinging her legs in the cool evening air.
The woman was evil, and he wanted nothing to do with her. He shifted into his eagle and opened his wings. “Keep your eyes open, boy, otherwise you’re going to miss it.” He heard the voice, not sure whether it was in his mind or through his ears. He looked to Morta, but the pillar was empty.
Keep your eyes open? Did he take that literally, or did it have a deeper meaning? So much for flying and letting his mind wander freely. He lifted off and headed out over the ocean, trying to find the peace he’d missed for so, so long.
“I just wanted to say thank you,” Matt said, licking his lips and not taking his eyes from Kash’s body.
Kash smiled and ran his hand down his chest, passing his navel and finishing at his groin. He slid the hand round his sac and moaned as his other hand came down to stroke his cock. He wasn’t sure what it was about this man, but he felt they were connected, yet there was no bond. He wasn’t his spirit walker, but God, he wished he could be.
“Oh my God,” Matt had whimpered.
“Could you wash my back?” he’d asked, turning so his buttocks faced Matt.
“Oh yes, of course I can.” Matthew pulled off his boots and rolled up his pants before wading into the stream. His hands had trembled as he rubbed the soap over Kash’s back. But when they came down and tentatively glanced over Kash’s tight, firm buttocks, both of them had moaned. Kash had turned to face his beautiful assistant, who was trembling all over by that point. At least they were both reacting the same way.
Kash had smiled and asked softly into his ear as his very erect cock had rubbed on Matthew’s belly, “Would you care to help dry me, sir?”
Matthew had swayed in front of him and said, “Please.”
Kash had rinsed in record time and grabbed his newly collected pants, putting them on before picking up his shirt and Matt’s boots. He grabbed Matthew’s hand and headed straight up to his room. Although the room was small, it had a large bed which completely filled half of the space. The mattress was filled with hay that did not smell stale, and it was covered in soft woollen blankets. There was a small table and chair to the side and a chest on the opposite wall. There was only a small window over the bed, but it did have a piece of linen over it.
Kash stopped at the threshold and turned to look at Matt. “Your escape is that way,” he’d said, pointing down the hallway to the stairs.
“I don’t think so,” Matt had replied in a whisper, and he had gently pushed him back into his room before carefully closing the door behind them.
Kash hadn’t believed his luck. This beautiful man was in his room and slowly running his hands up his body, trailing his fingers through the damp curls springing up on his chest. Kash shuddered. Men like this didn’t fall for men like him. This refined man should be with a gentleman, not Craig MacCarrick, thief, scavenger, and eagle shifter.
“You should find someone better,” he mumbled, placing his palms gently on Matthew’s hips.
“Better, like that gentleman downstairs who was all set to force himself on me? I don’t think so,” he’d said. “I like a man who has strong hands to hold me with, soft lips to kiss me with, a firm body to lean on, and a good heart to love me with.” Matt had smiled at him. “You…” He’d paused, and Kash had filled in the blank.
“You, Craig MacCarrick, I believe have all of that and much, much more.” Matt had looked at him with his beautiful pale green eyes. If you didn’t look closely you’d think they were gray. Kash remembered thinking he’d never seen anything so beautiful. Matt’s skin was so smooth and pale, his hair a sandy blond with gold highlights. His nose was straight and not too long, and with those delicate pink lips, Kash had been lost. He knew this man was going to own him, and they hadn’t even kissed.
Matthew had slid his arms up Kash’s body and around his neck. He was sliding his fingers through Kash’s wild, curly hair. Kash smiled, as he thought Matt was trying to hide the way they were trembling. Matt had gently pulled his face down and brushed his lips against Kash’s very tentatively. Kash had taken pity on Matt and pressed their lips together, taking control of the kiss. He’d started off gentle, but the passion that exploded between them staggered him, and soon their lips were crushed together and Kash’s hands were pulling Matt’s clothes from his body.
Oh, Matt’s body had been a sight to behold. The pale, smooth skin of his face covered his entire body, no scars, no imperfections, just beautiful, pale creamy skin. Matt wasn’t sculpted with muscles, but he was still lean and firm, but Kash loved that slight softness to his body. He knew on a cold night this was the man he wanted to cuddle up with. Kash had run his rough, calloused hand down Matt’s chest, watching his soon-to-be lover shiver. Matt was only small, and Kash had picked him up so easily, laying him down on the blankets. He’d ripped off his pants and dropped them on the floor so quickly in his need to feel Matt’s body against him.
It was heaven.
Matt had looked up at him and said, “Show me love, give me tenderness but also passion, make me feel alive and necessary, someone you could learn to love.” And that’s exactly what Kash had done.
Kash had kissed his way down Matt’s body, sliding his tongue along his collarbone and below, sucking gently on those small brown nubs. Matt had whimpered when Kash had lifted his head up to see the look on his face. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” Matt had cried out.
“Never!” was his only reply before he continued his exploration.
Matt had let out an insane giggle when he’d licked around his navel. Kash repeated the motion and was given the same reaction.
“So have I found a sensitive spot, sir?”
Matt had giggled again.
“I think so, and please, Craig, call me Matt,” Matt whispered, looking down at Kash with molten desire in his eyes.
That was the first time he had heard Matt’s name, and from that moment, he’d known this was his Matt.
As Matt giggled, Kash rocked back and looked at Matt’s pulsing cock. It was pale with a perfect pink head that was leaking pre-cum. Kash had needed a taste, and he’d dipped his tongue into the small slit on the top.