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    Damaged Goods
    Damaged Goods
    Damaged Goods
    Ebook247 pages4 hours

    Damaged Goods

    By Susan Mac Nicol

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    THE SWEETEST GIFT

    Tragedy and horror shaped Jackson Grady's life, leaving him orphaned and scarred. At eighteen he's ready to claim his future, but who could love his disfigured face and damaged soul? Definitely not a big, burly, beautiful Irish Traveller who is entirely the stuff of dreams.

    Dare Rowan didn't mean to become obsessed with the blue-eyed man he first saw across a field, but that porcelain skin and innocent air demanded another meeting. Jax has the face of a wounded angel, and the rest of the young man is as heart-breakingly perfect. Jax is beautiful in every way and teaching him about love and life will be something Dare will embrace. Like unwrapping and savouring the candy at the shop where he works, Dare will show this young man everything Jax desired but never thought he'd have, and take Jax to new highs while he holds him through the lows. Between them, they’ll find out just how sweet life can be.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBoroughs Publishing Group
    Release dateApr 28, 2016
    ISBN9781944262242
    Damaged Goods
    Author

    Susan Mac Nicol

    'The Official Stuff' Susan writes steamy, sexy, and fun contemporary romance stories, some suspenseful, some gritty and dark, and she hopes, always entertaining. She’s also Editor-in-Chief at Divine Magazine, an online LGBTQ e-zine, and a member of The Society of Authors, the Writers Guild of Great Britain, and the Authors Guild in the US. Susan is also an award-winning screenplay writer, with scripts based on two of her own published works. Sight Unseen has garnered no less than five awards to date, and her TV pilot, Reel Life, based on her debut novel, Cassandra by Starlight, was also a winner at the Oaxaca Film Fest.. 'The Unofficial Stuff' Susan loves going to the theatre, live music concerts (especially if it’s her man-crush Adam Lambert), walks in the countryside, a good G and T, lazing away afternoons reading a good book, and watching re-runs of Silent Witness. Her chequered past includes stories like being mistaken for a prostitute in the city of Johannesburg, being chased by a rhino on a dusty Kenyan road, getting kicked out of a youth club for being a bad influence (she encouraged free thinking), and having an aunt who was engaged to Cliff Richard. Connect with Susan: website: authorsusanmacnicol.com facebook: Author-Susan-Mac-Nicol twitter: SusanMacNicol7 instagram: susiemax77 linkedin: susanmacnicol

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    • 5/5
      It was really good. Love can heal deep wounds. Enjoy.

    Book preview

    Damaged Goods - Susan Mac Nicol

    THE MEN OF LONDON

    From Camden to Swiss Cottage,

    there’s no escaping love.

    THE SWEETEST GIFT

    Tragedy and horror shaped Jackson Grady’s life, leaving him orphaned and scarred. At eighteen he’s ready to claim his future, but who could love his disfigured face and damaged soul? Definitely not a big, burly, beautiful Irish Traveller who is entirely the stuff of dreams.

    Dare Rowan didn’t mean to become obsessed with the blue-eyed man he first saw across a field, but that porcelain skin and innocent air demanded another meeting. Jax has the face of a wounded angel, and the rest of the young man is as heartbreakingly perfect. Jax is beautiful in every way, and so will be teaching him about love and life. Like unwrapping and savouring the candy at the shop where he works, Dare will show this young man everything Jax desires but never thought he’d have, and he’ll take Jax to new highs while he holds him through the lows. Between them, they’ll find out just how sweet life can be.

    DAMAGED GOODS

    A Men of London Romance

    Susan Mac Nicol

    www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

    PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

    DAMAGED GOODS

    Copyright © 2016 Susan Elaine Mac Nicol

    Smashwords Edition

    All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.

    ISBN 978-1-944262-24-2

    Ebook formatting by Maureen Cutajar

    www.gopublished.com

    Jax crept into Clay and Tate’s story in Feat of Clay and demanded his own book. Such an incredible soul deserved to find his own happiness. It’s not easy being him in a world that often demands perfection in every way, especially in the physical. Every day there are people being made to feel less simply because they don’t meet this image. Well, this book is dedicated to everyone who’s different in any way, who’s ever been discriminated against because of what they look like or where they come from. You are all worth it. Never forget that YOU matter.

    ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

    As always, to my readers and the people who enjoy my books. Without you, there would be no Jax. No Dare. No Men of London. And to my wonderful beta readers JP Bilbao, Rita, Kirsty, Joanne and Valerie—thank you from the bottom of my heart for making the book better.

    CONTENTS

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 15

    Chapter 16

    Chapter 17

    Chapter 18

    Author Note

    About the Author

    Also by Susan Mac Nicol

    DAMAGED GOODS

    Chapter 1

    Jax was being watched and it wasn’t the first time. He sensed eyes on his back; someone was out there in the ever-present shadows. He took out his EarPods, switched off the music and laid his iPod down beside him on the blanket. He turned around again and glared through his prescription sunglasses at the spot in the garden where he believed his mysterious observer to be. Jax couldn’t see clearly that far away, given the state of his eyes; distance was a blur and he did his best work close up. His scowls obviously hadn’t deterred his watcher. He opened his mouth to snarl out a challenge to whoever was lurking in the shadows then shut it promptly when a loud hail drew his attention.

    Jax? Where are you? A voice echoed from the back porch of the rambling Victorian red brick house he lived in. It was a large, three-storey affair situated on a leafy street in Camden. Jax turned from where he knelt planting gladioli corms and squinted in the direction of the voice.

    In the garden, Randy, he called, sitting back on his haunches. Jax had been out here over an hour trying to prepare the bed for an influx of what he hoped would be beautiful flowers. He knew he’d probably planted a couple of the corms upside down; sometimes it was hard to differentiate between the top and bottom. He gave a mental shrug. The bulbs would either grow or they wouldn’t. He rather liked the idea of someone down under in Australia having a flower bursting through. He gave a soft chuckle at his silliness and stood up, stretching as he did.

    The sensation of eyes on him seemed to disappear and he frowned. Whoever it was must have left, flown like the proverbial bird. He wondered what the hell was so fascinating about him that someone had to spy. It had been a few times now he’d noticed his spine tingling.

    He stretched again, scratching his belly absently.

    God, you have dried mud everywhere, my lad. A chuckle sounded in his ear as Randy, his boss, quasi-father figure and owner of the halfway house, Castaways, where Jax lived, leaned in to brush errant streaks of dirt off Jax’s front and back. Randy mimicked a West Country accent with his next words. You look a right farm boy. Especially in that damn hat.

    The wide-brimmed straw hat Jax wore was his favourite. It had the dual purpose of keeping the sun off his face and bright light out of his sensitive eyes. It also made him look like a character from The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. All he needed was the Aw, shucks piece of straw in his mouth.

    Jax grinned as the blurry figure of Randall Pierce shifted into clearer view. The portly, short man and his wife Jen held a special place in his heart. Three years ago, at age fifteen, Jax had come to Castaways as a damaged and insecure young teenager and had stayed on ever since. It was his home now, together with the other much younger boys and girls who each had their own reasons for being there.

    The familiar scent of Old Spice gave Randy away every time. Jax tilted up his chin, looking out from beneath his sunglasses with slightly narrowed eyes. For some reason no one had ever been able to explain, it helped him see better when he did that. He stared at the other man, making out familiar bearded features and warm brown eyes.

    The pang of longing for the days when he’d taken his full sight for granted whipped through him, but resolutely he pushed it back into the depths where it belonged.

    There was no place in Jax’s life for regrets and self-commiseration.

    I’ve only got a few bulbs to go. He gestured at the bucket beside him with the last remaining corms. Hopefully we’ll get a gorgeous display when they all decide to bloom.

    You’ve done a great job, lad. Randy punched him lightly on the arm. Jen sent me out to find you. She says there’s lunch for you in the house. Toasted ham, cheese and marmite, your favourite. Randy’s lips twisted in distaste. I really don’t know how you can eat that marmite stuff. It’s terrible.

    Jax laughed. Hey, don’t knock it. Haven’t you ever had any marmite tea when you’re feeling sick? It’s the best pick-me-upper.

    Randy made a face. Ugh. No thanks. Go on with you, inside and clean up. You haven’t eaten today, have you? He tutted.

    Jax shook his head in amusement. I’m eighteen, Randy, not one of the little kids who needs supervising. He’d turned eighteen five months ago, in October, and it had been a milestone for him. Now legally an adult, he was able to manage his own affairs, including now having a say in the trust fund his father had set up for him.

    Jax batted Randy on the chest playfully. He and Jen tended to protect him too much sometimes. It was fantastic knowing good people cared about him, but occasionally it made him feel a little stifled.

    Randy looked shamefaced. Yeah, sorry. I forget sometimes. I’m so used to that young kid from three years ago.

    Jax smiled. Don’t apologise. I understand. You’re used to mothering the younger ones. He turned to go then swung around. Have you seen anyone strange around here lately? I’ve had this really weird feeling someone is watching me from over there. He gestured towards the wooded area on the garden boundary.

    Randy looked over in the same direction with a frown. Nope. Must be your Spidey senses kicking in. I’ve not noticed anyone over there, and no one’s come to the house who shouldn’t have. Maybe you have an admirer, he said slyly.

    Jax gave a harsh laugh. Oh, that must be it. Someone fancies damaged goods. He rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore Randy’s irritated snort.

    *****

    He wasn’t stalking his fantasy. He wasn’t.

    Dare clamped his lips together mutinously as he hunkered down behind a towering oak. The tree lay on the outskirts, in the garden of a large Georgian house. From a distance, Dare watched as the beautiful blond man he’d been observing, thank you very much, tenderly placed what looked like flower bulbs in the rich soil. The man—whom Dare had first called Angel, though he now knew his name was Jax thanks to the younger kids playing in the garden yelling to him—leaned over. His pert jean-encased backside pushed out into the air and Dare swallowed, mesmerised by the enticing sight. A pang of guilt washed over his skin at the sneaking knowledge that yes, he could actually be deemed a stalker.

    I’ve only watched him a few times, Dare murmured under his breath. It’s not like I’m some pervert checking through the windows. I mean, the guy is in plain sight and there’s no boundary fence, so why shouldn’t I look? Anyone would. God, he’s gorgeous. A flawed angel with those blond curls and blue eyes.

    His wistful voice echoed in the quiet of the forest surrounding the large house called Castaways. It was some sort of place for homeless kids, Dare thought. He’d found this vantage point by accident one day when he’d been out gathering bits of greenery for his boss, Sally, an eccentric seventy-year-old woman who owned the sweet shop he’d managed for the past three years.

    Some weeks ago, Sally had decided she wanted to display certain wildflowers in their place of work. She was also heavily into aromatherapy at the moment, so she sent Dare out each week to pick new blossoms and plants to further her ambitions to be a flower child, as Dare teasingly called it. He hadn’t minded. It had become a pleasant routine to take the short tube ride to Camden to perform what Sally loftily called his ecological duties. This secluded part of the woods around the area was the best place she knew of to find the flowers. Dare had caught sight of the beautiful man in the garden tending to a bunch of what looked like unruly kids, and now, having seen his Angel, Sally could send him out every day and Dare wouldn’t mind.

    "But that would make me a stalker, he said to himself. So I’m not one now—yet." He huffed and ducked back behind a bush as Jax turned to stare fixedly in his direction from underneath his wide-brimmed straw hat, an item Dare found rather endearing.

    How the hell does he do that? It’s as if he knows I’m here. Must be because he doesn’t see all that well. Maybe his other senses are enhanced, like Daredevil.

    Jax’s stare from behind dark glasses was disquieting to say the least. The first week Dare had spotted his mysterious stranger, Jax hadn’t been wearing his hat or glasses. His porcelain skin had appeared blotted with small flecks as the sun shone upon him.

    Underneath puckered eyelids, Dare knew Jax’s eyes were pale blue. The previous week, Jax had ambled over, dangerously close to Dare’s hiding place, to retrieve a ball one of the kids had thrown. Dare had held his breath, hoping not to be seen. But the man had gotten close enough for Dare to notice the colour of the sky reflected in Jax’s eyes.

    Up close Jax was a tarnished beauty; a vision of blond, pale sexiness and innocence. Dare had been captivated. He’d picked up that his man-crush didn’t see well. That was obvious from Jax’s cautious gait and careful steps when he walked. He never participated in any of the real rough and tumble with the younger children.

    On a previous occasion, Dare had heard Jax jokingly tell one of the kids that he’d be the easy winner in a game of Blind’s Man Bluff. The fact Jax had been hurt somehow made Dare’s heart ache in his chest. He wondered if it been due to a car accident.

    Dare heard a man call out and Jax turned and shouted a response as he stood up and stretched. Dare lost his breath as he ducked behind the tree. Jax’s long, slim arms reached towards the sky as his tee shirt drew up over his belly, revealing an expanse of creamy pale skin and a tight stomach. Dare closed his eyes, willing his groin to cool down.

    "Look at you, you are a damn pervert, he muttered. Lusting after a guy you’ll never have. He’s probably straight anyway, or got a boyfriend. I need to get laid. It’s been too long."

    His insides squirmed at the reason for his current lack of sexual activity other than his own hand. The last man he’d been with over two months ago had crushed him and left him feeling wary and more than a little nervous about trusting anyone.

    Dare renewed his observation and then sighed as Jax and the other man, named Randy, made their way up to the house.

    Time to make the journey back to the shop with his small bag of wildflowers and grasses. Sally would be waiting impatiently, tut-tutting at his tardiness. Dare grinned sheepishly to himself as he gathered his tote bag stuffed with foliage. He’d been gone longer than expected thanks to Jax.

    Sally was going to clip Dare’s ear when he got back.

    *****

    Jackson Grady, don’t you talk about yourself like that. I won’t have it, son. You’re one helluva catch for the right ma—person.

    Jax noticed the quick correction. He felt sure Randy had been about to say man, but as Jax hadn’t really told anyone yet what the hell his sexual preference was, Randy had played it safe. Jax knew Randy had his own suspicions about the way Jax leaned.

    His sex life to date had been relegated to a quick, chaste kiss with a girl at fifteen—something he’d not enjoyed—and since then, nada, nothing. Just his imagination and his right hand. He’d never even French kissed anyone. He believed he had a thing for men rather than the ladies; his early school years ogling his school mates’ torsos and their dangly bits in gym class and showers, plus his current gay porn stash, attested to that. However, back then, Jax had hugged that fact tightly to himself, for fear of reprisals closer to home.

    Now what he needed was the chance to test out his theory with a real, live human being of the willing male persuasion.

    Jax huffed. Oh yes, I’m quite the catch. He tried not to sound bitter but didn’t think he was succeeding. Let’s drop this topic, shall we? I’m not in the mood to talk about it. He leaned down and picked up his iPod off the blanket on the grass. Nodding at Randy, Jax shoved the EarPods back in and turned up the volume.

    He picked up his gardening tools and placed them in the straw basket Jen had given him to use. When he’d finished cleaning up, he turned to look at Randy, who was still standing there with an exasperated expression. Jax knew that his churlish display of angst was unwarranted.

    He’d never been on a date, never had any level of intimacy with another human being, male or female. He was an amateur in the dating and relationship department and it sucked. He wanted what his friends Tate and Clay had—a significant other to spend time with and laugh, support and hopefully have sex with. Jax didn’t see that in his future. Who the hell would want him, looking as he did?

    At the thought of Tate and Clay’s tempestuous, passionate relationship, Jax’s chest constricted. There were two men who deserved each other. God knows they’d fought hard enough to get where they were, but oh, how he envied them.

    He became aware of pudgy, impatient fingers snapping in front of his face as the music of Evanescence swelled to a crescendo in his ears. Resignedly, he hefted the basket onto one arm and removed one of his EarPods to hear what Randy was saying.

    That’s bloody better, young man. God, you can be an irritating little sod.

    Randy’s tone of affection belied his harsh words.

    Despite himself, Jax grinned. I’m a teenager, old man. It’s just how we roll.

    Yes, well, Randy muttered. No excuse for rudeness. Now are you going up to the house to eat that damn sandwich or shall I tell Jen to chuck it in the bin?

    Suddenly Jax was famished and the thought of iced peach tea and a sandwich got his taste buds salivating. Keep your pants on. I’ll go eat the damn sandwich.

    The two men grinned at each other and for the hundredth time Jax blessed his lucky stars he’d been fortunate to find a place at Castaways with Randy and Jen. When Jax had left the hospital, he hadn’t been ready to live on his own, despite the money he’d inherited. He’d been on his own then, his entire family gone.

    Another regret he pushed down into the depths of his personal no-fly zone.

    Randy smiled happily. Good. I could do with a cuppa myself and another one of those pork-and-pickle monstrosities Jen makes. Come on. I’ll bring up the empty seed cartons for recycling, and you take the basket. Make sure you wash those tools off before you put them in the shed. You know how Jen hates mud all over her stuff.

    Jax rolled his eyes. Yes, oh slave driver. He mock bowed as he chuckled at Randy’s low growl. I shall do as I am told. I am but a mere serf doing Master’s bidding.

    I get the feeling you rather like that idea, Randy murmured slyly. "I know you’ve been watching those films on your computer, the ones with the cute slave boys and the sexy overlords. What’s it called? Arabian Knights or something?"

    Jax’s fair skin prickled with heat from his blush and he thought he’d go up in flames from embarrassment. So much for thinking he’d been keeping his obsession a secret. Arabian Knights was indeed a show he was fixated on, a contemporary, sexy Scheherazade-type tale with a mostly male cast and a real Game of Thrones feel—another show he was addicted to. It cemented for him the interest he had in men, given the times he’d wanked off in bed to the memories of both shows. It took Jax a long time

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