GuardingMason

by HaydenWest

  Mason Stanton was a rock star. One with a stalker. His manager assigns a man to him that is suddenly the star in all his fantasies. One afternoon, everything changes.

  Donavan Culpitt is used to guarding all sorts of people. What he isn’t used to is falling for his client. An unexpected discovery leads him and Mason on a new adventure. But things aren’t always meant to be and there are times when relationships can be torn apart.

  Will they find their happily ever after?

  Guarding Mason

  by

  Hayden West

  MM, GAY, ROCKSTAR, CONTEMPORARY, EROTIC ROMANCE

  Twisted E-Publishing, LLC

  www.twistedepublishing.com

  A TWISTED E-PUBLISHING BOOK

  Guarding Mason

  Copyright © 2018 by Hayden West

  Edited by Marie Medina

  First E-book Publication: April 2018

  Cover design by K Designs

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2018, Twisted E-Publishing.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  All characters engaging in sexual situations are over the age of 18.

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Also By Hayden

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  “Whoever is sending the threats is becoming bolder. You can’t ignore this any longer. You have to take it seriously.”

  Mason “Rock” Stanton continued to stare up at the ceiling from where he lay on the couch in the suite. He began counting the swirls as he swung his left foot back and forth, skimming the plush carpet.

  “How serious do you want me to be? I’m not cancelling my tour, people pay a lot of money for those tickets. The show must go on, as they say.”

  His manager rolled his eyes and lobbed an orange from the mosaic bowl on the table. Rock snatched it out of the air. After rolling it around in one hand, he began peeling it, working diligently to get it off all in one piece.

  “Stalkers would freak most people out.”

  He raked a hand through his hair. Rock wasn’t like most people. Never had been. Growing up in a hugely abusive home, the thought of someone threatening him from a distance barely registered. To him they were nothing more than scared wimps who didn’t have the stones to face him and issue the threat to his face. The foster homes hadn’t been any better.

  “If that’s the reaction he or she’s looking for, they should have picked another to be their intended victim.”

  Jordan grunted. “At least you’re not ignoring this.”

  Having finished peeling the orange, he popped a slice of the succulent fruit and bit down slowly, smiling as the juice spilled over his taste buds. Oranges were a weakness of his.

  “It’s your job to worry about my safety. You do it so well I won’t play to the panic they want me to have, but I won’t argue with you about having extra security around.”

  “Good, because it’s more than that.”

  Rock paused but didn’t sit up, merely waited for his manger to continue.

  “I’m assigning you a bodyguard.”

  “You forgotten my security detail?”

  “No, but this is different. You’re going to have a personal one as well.”

  That information had him jackknifing to a sitting position. “I’m sorry, what?” Feet to the floor, he slanted his gaze toward Jordan who had his business expression on. “You know I like my privacy.”

  “I don’t care, Mason.”

  Shit. My real name, not my nickname. If I thought the expression was just for my own benefit this proves I was seriously fucking wrong.

  Jordan continued, “You may be willing to play fast and loose with your life but I’m not willing to do so.”

  Mason hid his sigh. That wasn’t it at all. He had zero intention of doing that despite his devil may care attitude. Still it wasn’t worth his time trying to explain it all to his manager, so he shrugged and got to his feet.

  “Whatever you think best, Jordan.”

  Suspicion flowed in his manager’s gaze. Mason didn’t flinch.

  “Any questions?”

  “What about?”

  “The bodyguard I hired.”

  Mason ate the rest of his orange within a few bites, not speaking until he’d swallowed the last bit.

  “Nope, no questions. You want him here, he’s here.”

  Jordan gave him a rare smile. “Thank you. I’m glad, and I want you to meet him before we head home tonight.”

  Not what I wanted to hear.

  “Fine.” He began toward the door to his adjoining suite. “Let me know when he’s arrived.”

  “He’s here now.”

  Mason paused, eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Where?”

  “Waiting in my suite. I’ll get him.”

  Great, now I have this shadow earlier. I thought I would be home before this starts.

  Clenching his hand five times around the doorknob, he then turned back as if he didn’t want to crawl into the king-sized bed and yank the covers over his eyes and sleep. He’d gotten back from last night’s party no more than an hour ago. Bottom line, I’m fucking exhausted. While he’d not wanted to go, he had an image to uphold and maintain.

  “Come out here, Mr. Culpitt.”

  A shadow shifted in Jordan’s doorway before a man stepped into view.

  Mason couldn’t begin to explain how pleased and grateful he was for having learned years ago not to show emotion. The man coming into view was everything his dreams and fantasies were made of. Gruff, bearded, muscular, and sexy as fuck walked through the doorway.

  Christ, his dick began to thicken instantly. The board-shouldered man stood beside Jordan, topping him by about three inches. His hair, a messy blend of darks and lights, his beard as well. Slashing eyebrows were above eyes of the richest green.

  “Donavan Culpitt, this is Mason ‘Rock’ Stanton.”

  Mason didn’t move while the man perused him.

  One sharp nod. “Sir.”

  That voice was sexy personified. He needed more for his dreams and long lonely nights when it was him and his hand.

  “What are your credentials?”

  “Airborne Ranger for years. Been in personal protection since.”

  If his question had upset him, the man didn’t show it. “What am I supposed to call you?”

  “Donavan is fine. Donavan. Mr. Culpitt. Up to you.” A lazy shrug rolled those massive shoulders.

  He had a whole list of names he’d like to call him, but none were ones he should be mentioning now.

  “Good to meet you. I’m going to bed.” He spun on his heel and marched into his suite where he shut the door behind him with far more force than necessary. He didn’t care. Right now, his cock was having a mutiny on his jeans doing its damnedest to escape.

  Resting against the door for a moment, he rubbed himself through his jeans, needing the relief. A low moan escaped him at the pressure, and he clamped his mouth shut as he undid the single button on his jeans.

  This is going to suck.

  Wearing only his boxers, he made his way to the bed and slid between the sateen sheets, room dark and silent. With a groan, he curved his hand around his penis after freeing it from the opening in his boxers.

  * * * * *

  Donavan closed the door behind him and quickly flicked his gaze around the interior of the mansion. It was ra
ining outside, and the staff was off doing whatever they were doing for the day. The house was quiet.

  In his hand he held three more of the stalker letters as well as one that was new, with a death threat. Correction, he held copies, having turned over the originals to the police. He’d been at this job for five months and had to admit it wasn’t all that bad.

  At first, he’d been worried about this man he’d been hired to protect. Personally, he hadn’t any use for rock stars, who flaunted their wealth and got into stupid situations just because they felt they were above everything or everyone else.

  This guy, Rock, was different. He put on weight when they got home, but on the road, Donavan noticed how he lost it. Traveling was hard on everyone but doing the shows, the appearances, and everything else, took its toll. Even so, through it all, Donavan easily noticed that in the hotel room the man there was completely different than the one the public saw.

  Right now, however, he had to discuss what he’d just gotten done discussing with the cops who’d come to pick up the evidence. Donavan shrugged out of his leather jacket and hung it on the hook before he made his way to the stairs and took them a few at a time to the second floor. He stayed on the other wing of the house from his client and yet he knew exactly how many steps it was from his room to Rock’s.

  Donavan didn’t know where Jordan the manager was. Typically he popped over every few days but had been absent all week. They were leaving next mouth to begin another tour; and personally, he’d like this stalker thing wrapped up before then. The leads had been worthless in his estimation. So he’d been doing his own investigation and hopefully these new ones that just came would help him get to the bottom of it all.

  As he neared Rock’s room he glanced once more at his watch. An hour earlier than he’d told him he’d be back.

  Donavan nearly turned back but wanted to get this over with, so he could turn his attention back to figuring out the identity or identities of those involved. The man’s door sat cracked, and he slowed as he neared.

  “Ohh, yes. God yes. Right there. Just like that.”

  He stopped instantly, both pissed and curious. Pissed because he hadn’t been made aware of anyone coming into the house to see Rock. An act that made his job harder to keep him safe if he wasn’t aware of guests. Curious because the man’s voice was so deep and raspy, much like it was when he performed on stage, just even more so.

  Palm on the butt of his sidearm, Donavan moved closer. If the man was in danger, he’d get him out of it then beat him for being so foolish by having someone over without allowing Donovan to clear the person. Honestly, he’d never seen Rock with a woman outside of the few that were picked up after concerts.

  It was rare and she was gone soon after with a smile on her face.

  Donavan inched closer, ensuring he couldn’t be seen from the interior of the room. Eye to the crack of the door, he scanned for anyone. Nothing. The sounds continued to flow, and he had no doubt this was sex he was about to walk in on.

  Whatever it took to keep the client safe. He was there for a reason in that house, and it wasn’t to sit idly by and let the man get hurt, so he’d have to get over his embarrassment and next time, let him know he was bringing in someone for sex.

  Pushing into the darkened room, he paused, allowing his eyes to adjust. Nothing in here but he could see the flicker of light in the bedroom. Moving through the sitting area, he neared the actual bed space and drew up short.

  Mason wasn’t having sex with a woman. He was watching porn on the television. Gay porn.

  Lying propped up on his pillows, he was naked and held in his own hand a very impressive and thick cock. Fully erect, the bulbous head oozed pre-cum as he stroked.

  Donavan’s heart thundered in his chest, his grip on the weapon wobbling for a moment. Are you fucking kidding me? He’s jacking off to a guy being filled from both ends?

  His own pants suddenly far too tight, he slid his sidearm back in the holster, eyes fixated on the thick cock he wanted in his mouth. Donavan flicked his tongue over his lips before casting a brief glance behind him. This wasn’t something he wanted someone to walk in and see.

  He’d not known that Mason watched gay porn. The man barely showed any interest in anything unless he was on stage. Otherwise Mason tended to keep himself locked away from most things, opting to write his music in his studio or room.

  This, this was an entirely new side.

  Donavan approved. In one flash, he went from viewing Mason as a client to someone he wanted to fuck. Someone he longed to see on his knees before him as he fed the man his thick cock, loving the way his eyes would water as he struggled for air but refusing to give up the shaft in his mouth.

  Moving his stare from man to television and back to the stroking hand, his shifted his own dick in his pants.

  “God yes,” Mason moaned, tugging on his nipple with the hand not on his cock. “I need it. Harder. God, harder.”

  Donavan stopped watching the television and focused strictly on Mason. Need unlike he’d ever had pulsed through him, dancing beneath his skin like a live wire.

  I have to get out of here. I can’t stand here and be a voyeur as he wanks off. Yet I can’t bring myself to leave.

  He’d just about talked himself into it and had actually turned around to walk away.

  “Fuck me, Donavan. Make me come as you fill my ass with your cock.”

  The way his name rolled off Mason’s tongue was enough to make his dick jump in his pants.

  Making a split-second decision, he entered fully and moved up beside Mason, bending at the waist to cover his hand and cock with one of his own.

  “I have every intention of doing that, but right now, I want you to come for me.”

  “Shit!”

  Mason jumped, but Donavan held him down. “Oh no, you don’t get to turn me on that much, and shut me down.” He tightened his hand on Mason’s dick. Facing the rock star, Donavan stared without blinking into the man’s brown eyes.

  “I’m going to learn every inch of you, what makes you scream, what makes you whimper, and most importantly,” he leaned closer, “what makes you beg.”

  “Donavan.”

  His name poured from Mason’s lips on a breathy whisper of need.

  Pumping Mason’s cock, Donavan claimed the man’s mouth, and thrust his tongue deep. The ridges of the stiffness he held drove more blood into his own shaft, made him long to free it and put Mason’s hand on it. Stare at him and kiss him while they jacked each other off. Soon enough, right now, he had him where he wanted him.

  Chapter Two

  Mason wasn’t entirely sure how he’d gone from watching porn and fantasizing about Donavan to having the bristle of that very man’s beard against his skin as his tongue thrust throughout Mason’s mouth.

  He knew he should be affronted and push him away. Should fire him and get as far away as he could before the man could spill his secret about his sexuality.

  But holy fucking Christ, it’s heaven to have his touch on me. To experience the rasp of his beard, the brush of his calloused skin along my cock. The tight grip tugging and pulling, drawing me so close to the edge only to not allow me to come. Holding my balls, in a grip almost too tight for me to bear, so I teeter on that edge of pain and pleasure.

  He didn’t and he wasn’t about to. Tipping his head farther back, he opened his mouth more, allowing Donavan’s probing tongue to have more access.

  “Better,” the large man rumbled.

  Eyes closed, Mason turned himself over to this experience of touch. The man’s grip was heaven.

  Up and down Donavan fisted him, and Mason bucked into his touch.

  “Is this what you’ve been doing since I came into your life? Watching porn and jerking off while you call my name out?”

  “And if it has been?” His throat was tight, he needed more air but he couldn’t seem to make his lungs work properly.

  “Then we’ve been wasting time. I could have been in here, every d
ay, fucking your ass, sucking on this cock, right here. Instead you’ve been watching people on television with enlarged dicks wishing it was me.”

  Pushing his hand through Donavan’s hair, he nipped at his lower lip. The facial hair was such a turn-on. He couldn’t wait to have it moving all over his skin as the man enjoyed his body.

  “We don’t have nearly enough time for what I want to do to you. We have to meet your manager and inform him about the latest threats. I just got back from the cops, and he will be back within thirty minutes.”

  “So, what are we doing then?”

  Donavan dipped closer and flicked his tongue along one taut nipple only to follow with a graze of his teeth.

  “Like I said. I’m going to make you come for me.”

  Thank God. “Get on with it then.”

  “You think it’s smart to rush me?”

  He tightened his grip on his dick, the strokes no longer long and smooth, these were jerky and short. Nearly harsh with the tugs but Mason didn’t care. He thrived on that line between pain and pleasure.

  Looking down his chest, he smiled at the hand dusted with dark hair that held his swollen cock.

  “Probably not.”

  “You don’t. But a promise is a promise. I’ll be back later tonight to finish this.”

  Mason didn’t say a word, even though his dick jumped at those words. The moment he closed his eyes, Donavan pinched the head hard enough to get his gaze back open.

  “Watch. Don’t take your eyes off my hand as I make you shoot your load all over my hand and your belly.”

  He wasn’t going to turn away for anything. When Donavan pushed two fingers against his lips, he opened, allowing the man to slide them into him. He swirled his tongue along them.