The Manx Cat Guardians Boxed Set

by J P Sayle

  She wondered how long he was going to pace? She needed to move things along, so she paced beside him, nuzzling her head against his leg. She pushed her will against his, actively encouraging him to leave. She was pleased as hands balled, and hands hesitated over the lock.

  With one more little push she waited.

  She jumped back as the door flew open, slamming against the wall. It went unnoticed as Brad stormed out.

  Princess gave chase, not wanting to miss a thing. She gleefully skipped behind Brad.

  Brad

  Brad felt like a tightly sprung coil, waiting to unleash its spring. Powering through anything within reaching distance, he held his fury barely leashed. He vibrated, the detonator on his temper unstable. The explosion was right there waiting. The slow build, no less deadly, he felt it suffocating him.

  He struggled to drag in air. Shaky fingers raked at his unruly hair that was dishevelled after hours of abuse. His insecurity fought the fury. Who the hell had he been on a date with? He had his number, messing with his head. He wouldn’t tolerate cheating. No Siree!

  His fingers ripped at his T-shirt, and threads teared under the abuse. His hands twisted as they imagined the invisible man with Martin. Violence, abhorrent to him normally, rocked his foundation. He gasped for breath, and his legs wanted to give way. He was forced to sit for the umpteenth time. His laboured breathing made his ears buzz. Fingers gripped the chair. He hoped it would steady his thundering heart. He needed to hold something other than Martin’s neck.

  It was useless. He fought a losing battle as his fury built to fever pitch. Leg muscles tensed as he paced in front of his door. “Just go over and give him a piece of your mind.” The jiggling keys clanged. He jerked back. No, no, he couldn’t, could he? His eyes caught the elaborate-styled basket that sat on the hall table. The intricate design was beautiful and filled with sweetness. Thoughtfully precious that when Brad had received the text he’d then been dumbfounded. A date that was not with him. What the fuck?

  Fury planted their ugly seeds inside him. Watered with every glance outside, overnight they had outgrown their pot. Stalking across the floor, he’d attempted to ignore the beauty of his first real boyfriend’s gifts. Or that they fitted him so perfectly, so touching. Brad tried to shake off the feelings that were building.

  He rolled his eyes as he glanced down at Princess as she nudged his leg. Urges built; becoming unbearable, making him storm out the door. Memories battered against his insecurities; words slashed as deep as the belt. Ugliness, a living breathing monster, digested all his newfound confidence. Emotions felt as if they were crushing his bones to dust, leaving him feelings of worthlessness. The vileness blinded him, hauling him into his past.

  “Useless, ugly fucker, weakling, can’t even defend yourself. A little fucking pansy, crying like a girl!” Brad could feel himself flinching. Trepidation built as he remembered his body purging. Blood flowed on burning, exposed skin, flayed by the hand of revulsion. Noxious, twisted hate sprayed him, and the open wounds left behind. Brad’s survival seemed almost impossible as hate invested the soul.

  Brad gasped. His knuckles were raw when his vision cleared as the door flung open. His stomach jerked, and nausea rolled through Brad. Attempting to avoid Martin’s anger, he involuntary stepped back. He remembered too late what had brought him over. He was upset he’d shown weakness, and his expression turned mutinous as he glared back. He felt the remnants of his past fade as his anger resurfaced.

  Brad let the words flow unchecked. “What are you playing at?” He jabbed his finger into Martin’s chest. Seconds ticked by as words died. His eyes finally comprehended what little Martin was wearing.

  Fuck, he nearly swallowed his tongue. He glued it firmly to the roof of his mouth just in case it rolled out and licked all that golden honey skin. He could feel the saliva pool, and he struggled to swallow past the stark desire. Brad’s cock nudged forward, trying to reach its target.

  Fuck, he was huge. As he was staring wide-eyed, greed pierced deep inside, and his hands itched to strip those tight black briefs away. Brad felt envious of a little scrap of cloth as he barely held on to his control. He ignored Martin’s scowl, and his eyes devoured flexing muscles that highlighted his exact strength. Lips tingled with the need to explore all the valleys and dips. Artwork adorned his chest. The eagle flew on his pec, drawing the eye to broad shoulders. Indecipherable words tapered towards slim hips. Gold bars glinted in the sunlight, making his brown nipples stand to attention.

  Brad pushed forward as his thoughts registered. Martin’s shocked expression pleased him to no end. Brad shoved him back. Martin moved as directed, and the door slammed behind him. The wince was gratifying, after everything. Registering Martin’s pallor, he realised the fucker was hungover.

  He drilled a finger into his chest. “You do know you are a little underdressed to be answering your front door. It could have been anyone.” Brad’s temper pushed against his common sense.

  He observed as Martin glanced down. “For fuck’s sake.”

  Gobsmacked, he watched Martin retreat. His words penetrated past Brad’s lust.

  “Coffee. Lots of coffee.”

  Brad bellowed after him, “Please.” He smirked at the groan he heard coming from upstairs. Serves him right. He went in search for the makings of breakfast. He found what he needed, and he got to work. His own rumbling stomach alerted to the fact he needed food.

  Brad liked the kitchen’s design, but it was no competition against his. The oak was lovely but didn’t hold a candle to the teak and walnut.

  He opened the patio door to let some air in, but the stale smell of alcohol still lingered. Sneering at the door, he needed to figure out how to approach monogamy.

  Hot fat sizzled, spitting out and burning his fingers as the spatula hit the frying pan. Jerking back, he sucked his fingers. Warily, Brad turned, not having heard Martin come in. Waiting, he braced himself, not hearing the question the first time. Brad asked Martin to repeat it. “What did you say?” When he spoke, Brad turned and noticed Martin’s colour was better.

  “I think I just fell in love with you. Well, that is if you are going to share that big breakfast and the great-smelling coffee.”

  Not wanting to give in too easily, he couldn’t help the sigh as the words melted him to a puddle of goo. He fanned his face. Fuck, was it hot or was it just him? Appearing oblivious, Martin grabbed coffee and chatted as if nothing had happened. Brad’s joy was short lived as questions sparked his earlier anger.

  What the hell was happening? Was he playing with him? His insecurities unsettled him further. If this was love, you could keep it! Martin’s causal demeanour aggravated him further.

  “Thank you, baby, you’re a lifesaver. I am not sure what time I got home last night. I may have had a bit too much to drink.”

  Brad seethed, and he found himself interrupting.

  “Around two fifteen am.” The accusation was loud in the deafening quiet that followed.

  Martin’s awed look made him rethink his words. “What? You weren’t spying, were you, baby?”

  Brad’s guilt warred with the indignation that Martin had gone out without him. Frustration won as he let loose. “You”—his finger wagged in Martin’s face—“got in at two fifteen am this morning, and you were more than a little drunk.” Huffing, he paused to draw in a breath. “You could hardly walk. It took you several attempts to even get your front door open. In the end, the poor taxi man had to let you in.” The ranting died as Brad noticed Martin’s knowing look. He hunched over the stove, feeling rattled at speaking so forcefully. He knew Martin wouldn’t let it drop at his next words.

  “Were you watching for me, baby, hmm? Were you worried about what I was doing? You don’t have to be. I only have eyes for you, baby, no one else.”

  Brad shuddered as the rumbling words caressed, playing havoc with his already overloaded system. The strike of those words hit right at the core of his worries. Astounded by the needs those simple
words gave him, he pushed away from the cooker. Letting his legs and arms snake around Martin, he climbed his jungle gym. Their lips clashed as bodies ground together; tongues glided, fighting for supremacy. Brad sucked hard. The rich flavours of Martin mixed with coffee inebriated him. Needy moans increased as the wildness pulsed uncontrollably between them. Why weren’t they naked already?

  Brad’s hands ripped at clothes when the clawing need consumed him. Confused when Brad felt his eyes water, he choked as he pulled back and noticed the pungent smoke filling the air. What the fuck?

  Jumping down, he grabbed the burning bacon that spat angrily. Feeling shamefaced, he took the pan, rushed outside, and hoped there wasn’t too much mess. Scrubbing at his face and breathing in the cool fresh air, he willed his wayward cock to behave. He couldn’t believe his behaviour. They’d been animals, clawing at each other. Humans didn’t do that, did they? He’d been a total beast, a beast. He was aghast. What the hell was happening to him?

  Wringing his hands, he grappled with reality. Giggles tumbled out. Brad could hear the hysteria. He couldn’t carry on like this. Momentum built as he realised they had resolved nothing. Storming back inside, he hissed. “We need to talk. I want to know what it is you want from me. You have been all over me, sexing me, getting me all wound up. Touching, sucking, and licking at me, making me all hot and horny.” He glared at Martin. Words tumbled unhindered. “Then you send me the most amazing flowers. What do I do? I go to the chemist and get lube and condoms.” He paced, his body vibrating. Jerking hands yanked at hair that stood bolt upright. “Then,” accusation fired from his eyes, “then you come over and get me talking about my past. You get all in my space again kissing and touching me, and then you leave.” The howl sounded inconsolable.

  He trembled as the rant took hold. “Sweets, bloody sweets. You give me a perfect gift no one, and I mean no one, has ever done before.” Brad gasped for breath, and his hands waved accusingly. “No one has ever been that thoughtful enough to consider what I like. It made me feel so special. Then, and then,” Brad’s sparkling eyes heated, searing Martin. Locking on its target he stepped into Martin. “I ask if you want to do something, but you are too busy going out with someone else, ‘having plans’.” Hands air-quoted as he got closer to Martin with his anger very much in control.

  “You get off your face with God knows who. Staggering home at two fifteen in the morning. What have you got to say for yourself?” Breathless, Brad’s chest heaved while he dragged in much-needed air, trying to calm his pounding pulse. He met the tempest blue of Martin’s.

  Reality hit Brad. They were clashing Titans. The thought had self-preservation kicking in as he stepped back. Fire burned from Martin’s intense gaze, singeing him. Incredulous that he had woken the desire that seemed to be melting off his very skin, Martin imprinting on his very soul. Brad’s hands shook at the frenzied need inside him.

  Martin’s rasping words burned with desire, igniting sparks of lust. “If you’re going to run, you better do it now because once I have you, I won’t be letting go. Ever.”

  Brad’s legs quaked. His body moved, betraying him. The threat was deadly real but, his desire for more made Brad’s will to run fade.

  Martin’s throaty demand had him obeying. “Put your legs around my waist.” Mindless, Brad obeyed. “You’re mine now. I can do whatever I want to you, and you will let me.”

  Brad felt pliancy seep into all his limbs, and he hugged Martin tight.

  Brad barely registered the mess of scattered clothing as Martin carried him up to the bedroom. Martin’s masculinity stamped everywhere with dark colours: navy, deep bleeding reds, blending with rich burgundy. An imposing queen-size bed filled the room. The satinwood frame gleamed, emphasising the intricate carvings.

  The sun filtered through partially closed curtains, casting a hazy glow. Rainbows ebbed and flowed over the walls as the sun caught the floating crystals strung on wires. Clinking melodic sounds were created by wind chimes as the breeze moved through them, soothing Brad.

  Martin’s fiercely commanded, “Strip.”

  He lowered Brad to the floor. He was captivated by the heat of Martin’s gaze, and Brad’s hands moved to obey. Each piece he removed pulled the wired tension tighter. He was sure it would snap at any moment. It rippled between them.

  Martin’s hand pointed, indicating the rest of his clothes. “Everything.”

  Brad bent to remove the last barrier. His cock waved its surrender. But his doubts snapped and stung, even when Martin’s expression heated. His deep blue eyes burned while exploring every inch of his naked body. The following touch of rough fingertips to his groin made him shiver. His arousal climbed with the barest of touches. Excitement had his cock twitching, leaking with approval.

  “When did you do this, baby? How did you know how much I love the feel of bare skin against me?” Martin’s humming approval teased Brad’s now naked flesh, enthralling Brad further. Brad’s hands tightened with the urge to thrust.

  Martin’s words registered. “I love how your skin feels without the hair, all smooth. God, what you do to me, baby.”

  Brad couldn’t stop his body from quivering. Firm warm hands cupped his balls, rolling his sac.

  “So smooth, baby. I can’t wait to feel them in my mouth.”

  Brad’s nails dug hard into his palms. His hips rocked into the warm touch. Breathless, he trembled. He panicked that he wasn’t going to last much longer and embarrass himself. Brad moaned as Martin’s hot fingers moved lower, pressing against his pucker. Seeking more, Brad widened his legs. Seconds later he felt bereft when the heated warmth pulled away. His confusion changed to pure lust at Martin’s demand.

  “Lick my fingers. Get them nice and wet.”

  The growl reverberated through Brad’s chest. Not losing the connection, he sucked. Warmth soaked onto his tongue as the taste of body wash clashed with Martin’s rich scent. Martin was hypnotising him. He could feel it as he pulled his spit-coated fingers towards Brad’s cock. Wet fingers glided before Martin gripped him firmly, sliding rhythmically. Brad groaned at the dirty image Martin was creating. His cock glistened with his saliva, mixing with pre-cum. The visual ramped up Brad’s pleasure.

  Brad locked his legs to hold himself steady. His hands twitched with the need to touch Martin. His ears rang before he wheezed out when his body reminded him to breathe. Martin’s experimenting hand twisted, building pressure at the blushing head of his cock. The constant leaking aided in the torture. He whimpered in pleasure, and his legs wilted under the onslaught. Martin caught him before he landed and pushed him on the bed, bouncing him onto his sore arse.

  “Arghhhh.” He leapt straight back up. With throbbing arse, Brad watched the horror grow across Martin’s face. Thinking it was due to his girlie screech, he couldn’t stop the heat from rising with mortification.

  Martin grabbed him and spun him around, making him dizzy. “Christ, what did I do? Did I hurt you? Where did I hurt you? Let me see.” Martin’s babbling words had Brad casting him a sheepish look.

  Martin seemed still perturbed as his hands examined his backside, which only added to his embarrassment and mortification. “Come on, spill. Why did you yelp? Did I hurt you, baby?”

  Brad pointed down. The bruise was not as noticeable as it had been two days ago. The greenish tinge blended with his honeyed skin.

  “How the hell did you do that?” His gentle touch was at odds with the snarling harshness. It made Brad mumble.

  “I may have had a little accident when I was waxing.” Convinced his face was glowing, he hid behind his hair. Silence had him hesitantly looking back at Martin. He glared down at Martin’s silent shaking shoulders. “It wasn’t funny. I hurt myself.” He was horrified at how whiny he sounded. As he exhaled, Brad’s heart thundered as hot breath caressed seconds before plush lips grazed his tender flesh. Swirling, wet patterns painted his tender skin as warm air blew, cooling. Aching tiny shivers left a trail of fire.

  “Does that feel
better?” Martin stroked, titillating him further.

  His buttocks pushed back into the questing tongue.

  “I can’t hear you, baby. Does that feel better?”

  Brad fought to get the words past the lust. “Uhg, emm, yeah, oh God, please, anything. Don’t stop.” Moaning, Brad writhed. His hips pulsed, showing Martin what he wanted. Martin manoeuvred him to the soft bed. The cotton teased his stomach when Martin placed him face down. As Brad splayed his legs, Martin tilted his arse.

  “Much better. Now I can play, and this won’t hurt your poor cheeks.” Martin’s voice vibrated, making his empty hole ache for more. Warmth heated his arse, awakening his nerves when hands kneaded, spreading him wide. Whiskers abraded his tender skin seconds before wetness teased his pucker.

  “Argh… Fuck—oh God… what are you doing… argh.” He was babbling. Brad’s world turned upside down. Martin’s magic tongue painted figure eights across his pucker, loosening his tight rim enough for him to penetrate with the tip of his tongue. Gasping, he bucked hard, seeking friction on his neglected cock.

  “You taste amazing, baby. Even here, you taste of wild cherries. It’s such a turn-on the way you taste and smell. I can’t get enough of you.” Highlighting what he had said, he delved down, making Brad groan anew.

  Shaking, he knew he was close to coming, and hips jerked back hard. Howling, searching for more. He frowned in disappointment when Martin stopped.

  “It’s all right, baby. I am not stopping. I needed a few supplies. I’m going to make you feel real good, baby.”

  Tightness gripped Brad’s balls, and his orgasm receded as the sensation increased. Brad panted through the ache. “What the hell is that you have put on me?” He tried to lift, but Martin’s firm hand continued holding him down.