Marking What's Mine (A Marksman's Tale Book 1)

by Gianni Holmes

  I turned to look at him in surprise. “Really? Congrats.”

  He groaned. "This is why I didn't say anything earlier. I wanted to be hired for the job first. Don’t start having expectations."

  “God forbid,” I threw over my shoulder as I headed back to the living room to put my feet up. “Order the pizza. There’s money in the jar on top of the cupboard.” As if he didn’t already know this.

  I got lost in the re-runs they were showing of the Andy Griffith Show while simultaneously trying not to wonder what Mac was doing. Fuck, I can’t believe I missed him curling up into my side, an arm casually thrown over my waist.

  At some point, I heard the front door open, and Paulie went out. I would bet he hadn’t ordered the pizza yet, but that was fine. I wasn’t hungry yet anyway. I forgot about Paulie and what he was doing, probably chatting up to the new guy next door. That I didn’t want to think about.

  Sometime later, the front door opened again, and Paulie entered the living room, his face flushed. His eyes were full of excitement.

  “Where have you been?” I asked him, decreasing the volume of the television.

  “I went to render neighborly assistance,” he replied with a smirk. “I noticed the new guy had some furniture to get into the house, so I offered my strong muscles. He was grateful.”

  “Not interested in how grateful he was, Paulie.”

  He laughed. “Should I be so lucky! Anyway, just a heads-up that I invited him over to eat with us. I already called the pizza place from his house, and they should be here any minute.”

  I groaned. “You did what?”

  He shrugged. “Well, what did you want me to do? He was there when I ordered the pizza, and he’s new. Thought I’d make him feel welcomed.”

  “Is this guy even gay?” I asked him. “Not all straight guys like to be hit on by a gay dude, Paulie.”

  “I think he might be. Too soon to tell though.”

  The doorbell rang, interrupting my caution to him. “That’s either him or the pizza.”

  An excited Paulie hurried from the living room, and I shook my head. He was a grown up now and responsible for his own relationships. He should be able to make his decisions about his love life. Having experienced the heartbreak I had, though, I hoped he would be spared such a feeling of devastation.

  “Connor, join us in the kitchen, will you?” Paulie shouted. “Pizza’s here.”

  With a groan, I picked myself up from the couch and strolled to the kitchen to meet this guy my brother was already smitten with. Paulie was a friendly guy, but he didn’t date a lot. I had only met one boyfriend of his, and it hadn’t struck me as very serious. I was curious at this guy he had just met but seemed so excited about already.

  I entered the kitchen to find Paulie reaching for paper plates. I kept them for when he came around, otherwise, we’d always be stuck washing the dishes at the rate in which he ate. Two large pizzas along with cinnamon sticks were on the table. I smelled the Hawaiian just the way I liked it. A stranger stood in my kitchen, his back toward me. A familiar looking back, which was just ridiculous.

  At my entry, the stranger I assumed was our new neighbor, turned to acknowledge me. The smile he had on his face fell and my facial muscles froze. Sexual energy charged through the room between us, and all the time we didn’t speak, inside I was cackling my head off at the irony. How likely was it that the man I’d been busy screwing over the weekend would move into the vacant house next door?

  “Oh Connor, there you are,” Paulie announced, returning to the table. “This is Mac who just moved to the neighborhood. Mac, this is the older brother and mother hen I was telling you about."

  Mac seemed less likely to come out of his shock anytime soon, and Paulie was observing us with a frown. As good as he looked in faded blue jeans and a sleeveless T-shirt, I wanted to kiss him and pick up where we had left off. I stretched out my hand to him instead.

  “Mac, welcome to the neighborhood. I hope you like it here.” My voice came out strained and unbelievable. Damn right, it was unbelievable. Of the millions of homes he could have chosen, why here? The concept of a one night stand or a weekender was that the other party didn’t follow you home, and you’d never see them again.

  His eyes registered surprise and a hint of what seemed to be disappointment. He grasped my hand and a shiver ran through him and extended to me. “Thank you. It seems like a nice quiet neighborhood. Just what I was looking for.” The deep rumble of his voice reminded me of his moans and the way he gasped when I slid inside his hot body.

  “Check this out,” Paulie remarked, reminding us he was in the room. “Mac’s grandmother died, and he sold his old place to get the one next door. Isn’t that cool that he can own a house at twenty-one?”

  “Twenty-one?” I exclaimed and turned accusing eyes to Mac. Over the weekend he’d told me he was twenty-three. Not that there was much of a difference, but he had lied. He couldn’t even meet my eyes. He was guilty as charged. If this was karma's little way of teaching him about lies catching up with him, I didn't like being thrown in the mix at all.

  “Yeah, we’re the same age,” Paulie said, grabbing one of the boxes of pizza and piling slices on his plate along with cinnamon sticks. “Mac likes Hawaiian like you, so you get to share that box while I keep the pepperoni to myself.” Oblivious to the tension in the room, he pulled three cans of beer from the fridge and handed them to Mac. “We’ll pig out in front of the TV. Mac, bring the beer and the cinnamon sticks. Bro, will you grab your plate and the pizza for you and Mac?”

  There was no way in hell I would be able to stay and watch my brother fawn over the man I had done the same to over the weekend. I was already having a difficult time processing that Mac would be living here, not just in the same neighborhood, but next door. I could bump into him while going for a jog or checking the mailbox. Just the simple act of driving in and out of my home would now be tortured by the knowledge that I could run into him.

  “Actually, I just remembered I need to pick some stuff up,” I announced, backing away from the two guys at the table. They looked much better together anyway. They were of the same age and already seemed to be getting along. I couldn’t help feeling a little betrayed that Mac had walked into another man’s home so easily after the weekend we just had. The fact that I felt that way pissed me off. I didn’t own the guy, and neither did I want to.

  “Can’t it wait till later?” Paulie asked. Mac refused to look at me which was just as well. Fuck. I couldn’t believe he was here to disturb my peace of mind.

  “Sorry, it’s kind of urgent,” I remarked. “I’ll catch you later.”

  Without a word to Mac, I headed for the front door.

  Chapter Seven

  Sitting in my car across the street, my seat reclined so I could be comfortable, I crossed my legs and placed them on the dashboard. It was cowardly of me to not walk up to the front door and let myself in. It was my house after all, but five minutes ago when I had unlocked the front door, I had heard Mac and Paulie laughing. He was still here. Given that I had stayed away from the house for four whole hours before returning, I had been certain Mac would have left. What reason did he have to stay? He had to be as uncomfortable as me in the situation.

  I’d closed the front door before they noticed I had come in. Then I made my way back to my car, drove it a couple houses down the street on the other side so I could keep watch when Mac did eventually leave. I felt like a cop on a late night mission, waiting for the bad guy to make a move.

  I glanced at my watch and noted that it was almost ten in the night. He had to leave soon. I was choosing to believe Paulie had kept him there against his will. Knowing Paulie, he was good for that, making you feel guilty until you ended up doing what he wanted. There was just no way Mac would still be at my house after what happened between us. Hell, if I were him I would be looking for my broker to change my mind about the house. Who wanted a constant reminder of two nights in a hotel room with a stranger wh
o suddenly turned out to be a neighbor? For me, the memories were already bad enough. I could have done without Mac moving in next door.

  Paulie crushing on him made things worse. From the way he had looked at Mac, he was as attracted to Mac as I was. I ignored the feeling of possessiveness that threatened on the edge of my sanity. I was already struggling with whether I should talk to Paulie about what had happened between Mac and me or just let it slide. What was the likelihood of anything serious developing between the two men anyway? After the summer Paulie would be back in Atlanta to finish up his studies.

  As the minutes ticked by to almost an hour I became restless. I wanted to go to bed. It was getting late, and I had to be up early to get to the police station on time. On Friday, I’d received a transfer package for a rookie who would be assigned to our precinct. I had yet to check this officer’s information because I’d been in a hurry to get away for the weekend. Friday had been the death anniversary of my partner, and the memories surrounding the event had come crashing in. I would always regret not being able to protect him as he was slaughtered before my eyes by several bullets hitting him.

  A light turned on in Paulie’s bedroom, and I stiffened. I straightened in the seat, lowering my feet to the floor. He wouldn’t. Would he? The last time we’d had sex was in the wee hours of this morning. Could he really sleep with my brother less than twenty-four hours apart?

  Now more than ever, I could not venture inside the house until he was gone. I didn’t want to hear the protesting of Paulie’s bed under their weight. Neither did I want to relive the way Mac moaned when he was filled up, knowing his pleasure was at my brother’s hand. Fuck, I needed a distraction. At times like these, I wished I hadn't quit smoking.

  I closed my eyes to block out the sight of the light in the bedroom and tried to empty my mind. I rocked against the seat, willing away the small measure of anxiety that snaked up my spine. I wouldn’t get myself worked up about what I couldn’t change. So what if I had been a little foolish to think the time we had spent together meant something to Mac? I knew better now. I wouldn’t make an ass of myself by trying to interrupt them. Paulie was old enough to have sex with whomever he wanted. What did it matter if that was with the man whose body I had explored over the weekend? What did it matter that I knew the sighs and groans that spilled from his lips or the way he cried out when he was being fucked hard? It didn't matter one damn.

  A rap on the truck window jerked me out of my frustrating thoughts. I stared, confused at who had interrupted my musing. The person bent, and I felt myself dying on the inside when Mac’s face appeared before the window. Fuck, he would know I was trying to avoid him. He caught me red-handed, and there was no way I would get out of this. My brain scattered, deciding to leave me at the mercy of my useless tongue.

  Somehow, I managed to lower the window and keep a straight face like it was a regular occurrence for me to be avoiding home.

  “Hey, having car problems?” he asked me. “Why are you parked all the way over here?”

  I clutched at my thighs and squeezed to keep my voice normal. “Uh well, just giving you guys some privacy.”

  “What for?” he asked, confused.

  “You know.” I shrugged and glanced away from him to look straight ahead.

  “Can you get out of the truck, so we can talk?” He reached for the door and opened it before I could tell him no. Once he did that, it would have seemed petty of me to shut the door, so I unhappily climbed out of the truck, closing the door and leaning against it. On the exterior, I was a picture of perfect calm. On the inside, my brain swirled with turmoil. Having him so near to me was wreaking havoc on my libido.

  “You thought we were having sex?” There he went again with that little hurt tone of his.

  “You didn’t go up to his room?” The words were out before I was able to stop them.

  “I did,” he answered, “but not for the reason you think. He showed me a computer game he told me about earlier.” His face turned a crimson shade, and he placed a hand at the back of his neck and rubbed. “Okay, so there was a kiss, but that was all.”

  “Fuck!” The word just exploded from somewhere deep inside me. I hated my lack of filter tonight. “I mean you guys are adults and can do whatever you want.”

  “I didn’t kiss him, Connor. He kissed me.”

  “Look, Mac, you don’t have to tell me this,” I assured him. “I’m not going to turn into some jealous, possessive asshole who demands more from you.”

  He made a step back at the vehemence in my tone. “Right, because all you wanted was a fuck.” His tone was bitter. “I gave you two days, and you sneaked out in the morning when I was asleep. That was fucked up. You couldn't wake me to say goodbye?”

  “I had to get home and didn’t want to wake you.” The lie came so quickly that I almost felt proud of myself.

  He scoffed. “Whatever, man. Look, we’re cool. I won’t be in your way. It’s not like I’m stalking you or anything. And, for the record, I wouldn’t sleep with your brother after what we did. I keep telling you I don't sleep around. I am not that type of guy. ‘Night.”

  Let him go. I should have let him go, but he looked upset like the time I had suggested for us to take a shower before we had sex.

  “Mac,” I called his name softly, and when he continued to walk away, I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to me. If he wanted, he could easily resist instead of allowing me to draw him closer to me. I had no idea what I was doing, but I couldn’t let him go home feeling used. Yes, we had used each other, but it had turned out to be more, and that was what had scared me off to leave without a goodbye.

  “What is it?” he asked, his eyes hopeful in youthful gleam, and I remembered his lie.

  “You lied to me about how old you were.”

  He ducked his head. “Yeah, well all you needed to know was that I was over the age of consent. If I hadn’t lied, you wouldn’t have taken me back to the hotel with you, and I needed to go with you. I noticed you immediately as you entered the club, and I knew I would always wonder if I didn’t try.”

  Rarely was someone so open and honest about how they felt. It amazed me. I pulled him even closer to me as though in slow motion. My brain screamed for me to stop this madness, but I couldn’t. For the life of me, I couldn’t stop myself wanting Mac. I turned us with ease, him backed up against my truck, and then I moved in for the kill.

  His lips were exactly what I remembered, pliant, soft and insistent. I groaned, kissing him deeply and wiping away all trace of my brother’s lips from his. Tonight when he lay in bed, his hand reaching for his thick cock, it was my kisses I wanted him to think of.

  He moaned and grabbed the front of my shirt, hanging onto me as I plunged my tongue seamlessly between his lips. We were both transported back to the hotel, to the passion that burned between us, the lust that pounded through our veins, and the need to be inside each other.

  He sneaked his hand under my shirt to stroke my chest. When he reached my nipples, I reacted and pulled away. If I didn’t put a stop to this right now we would be climbing into the back of my truck.

  “Mac, don’t.” I reached for his hands and pulled them away from beneath my shirt. He was breathing hard, and I could feel the whisper of his erection against mine.

  “Let me guess,” he said, his tone low. “You’re already regretting this too.”

  This time when he stepped back I didn’t pursue him. I shouldn’t have pursued him earlier. I should have allowed him to walk away and forget about the weekend.

  “Come on, it’s kind of inevitable,” I pointed out. “You’re twenty-one for fuck’s sake, Mac. I’m old enough to be your dad.”

  “But you’re not,” he reiterated.

  I let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. “I don’t want living next door to each other to be complicated. You’re my neighbor now. If you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask, but that’s about it.”

  “Does sex count i
n the ‘need anything’ category?”

  My cock pulsed, and I groaned. “Mac.”

  “Sorry, my bad. Just teasing.” He pushed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Alright then, goodnight. See you around.”

  “Night, Mac.”

  I watched him go, walking across the street with long powerful strides. I gazed at his powerful back, the slope of his shoulders, and the swell of his ass. My heart squeezed with pride. He looked good, like damn good. Any man would be proud of owning him. It was a damn shame I couldn't be that man no matter how much we both wanted it. I had been burned before by a younger man. I had no intentions of letting it happen a second time. Once was enough to last me a lifetime.

  I was still standing there when he slipped inside his house and closed the door. Only then did I get into my truck and crawled my way home. Now that I had that all worked out I should have some peace of mind.

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning I came down the stairs, dressed in my uniform, I still had very little peace of mind and a headache to match. I hadn’t been able to sleep well last night, thrashing about in the bed, getting up several times to use the bathroom and the kitchen, before I eventually allowed myself to lie in bed and wonder if Mac was having the same problem. I finally fell asleep, but the alarm clock sounded way too soon after. In fact, I snoozed the alarm three times and was now on the verge of getting to the police station late.

  “Good morning,” I greeted Paulie who was flipping pancakes. “What time’s your interview?”

  “Morning,” he mumbled beneath his breath. “At ten.”

  I took the bottle of apple juice out of the fridge and poured myself a glass to down a couple of aspirins. I’d never get through the day without them. I replaced the juice in the fridge and observed Paulie who seemed to be sulking.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I asked him. “Not prepared for the interview?”

  “I am prepared,” he affirmed, piling pancakes on a plate.