The Manx Cat Guardians Boxed Set

by J P Sayle

  Sarah stroked his face. “I know. We’re good, and he is great. If he were even a tiny bit straight, I would be stealing that gorgeous hunk from you.”

  His play-punch had the desired effect of releasing the sadness. His smile dipped as her words hit.

  “Though I think you may have a bit of competition with the waiter.”

  Her laughter flitted through the bathroom door as she walked away.

  Hastily returning, Martin apologised to the couple whose table he’d tripped over in his rush. Rubbing his aching knee, he hobbled back to the table. His eyes locked on the handsy waiter who was leaning into Brad’s arm. Growling, with jealousy clouding his vision, he wrenched the chair out next to Brad. Eyes bored holes into the waiter. He pulled Brad into his side, possessively.

  “Yes?” Martin knew he was acting like an arse but was unable to stop the caveman act. He wanted to beat his chest and show this dickwad Brad belonged to him. Hesitantly, the waiter stepped back. He pointed at the bill he must have put down. Martin thanked him, feeling a little embarrassed.

  Brad’s astonishment was not helping. “You’re jealous.” His incredulous expression only made Martin feel more embarrassed.

  Brad’s hands yanked him forward, and he landed a hard kiss. Breathless, Brad’s next words had Martin wishing for privacy. “I love it.”

  Brad’s smirk made Martin laugh. How was he going to resist this flirty demon? Sarah’s eye roll had Martin squirming as she returned, knowing she had caught their conversation. As she sat, Martin chuckled when Sarah grabbed the chocolates off the plate. Brad’s pitiful eyes stared her down. It would appear their sweet tooth was another thing they had in common.

  Brad gave a winning smile. “It’s all right. I still have some chocolate orange cheesecake left if you won’t share, Sarah.”

  Martin chuckled at Brad’s happy grin.

  Sarah’s next question had them both freezing. “Where did you get it from, Brad?

  Martin watched Brad’s cheeks turn a rosy pink. Chuckling, he waited to see what Brad would do.

  Sarah searched both their faces. Her mirth twinkled at Brad. “So, where did you eat this cheesecake first?”

  His face grew puce. Brad’s mouth flapped open and shut as if searching for the answer. Martin knew she was fishing.

  “Leave him alone, Sarah.” The words had no sooner left his lips when Brad responded. Gawping, Martin felt mini sledgehammers of lust hit his crotch.

  “Off his cock and balls, and it was delicious with the added salty flavour.” Lips smacked together for effect.

  Oh Jesus, he created a monster. Sarah’s howls of laughter had everyone’s heads turning towards them. Attempting to change the subject, he searched for a safe topic.

  “Have you had a chance to look at your client list for me?”

  Her mirth was still evident, but gasping past the hilarity, Sarah eventually responded. “I may have someone that would be suitable. I will send the CV to you tomorrow. Impressive work experience, which was why I am a little surprised he has moved to the Isle of Man. I am planning a meeting Friday, if you’re interested?”

  He was all business as he mentally flipped through his diary. “What time were you thinking?” He’d have to check.

  “After two. My office?”

  He grinned in agreement. “That sounds like it might work. I’ll let you know. What’s his name?” The innocuous question had him looking at Brad as tension filled the air at Sarah response.

  “Stuart Wilson. I will email you the details tomorrow. Up to you when you look at it.” Sarah waffled on as he watched Brad clutch the table, his colour draining.

  “Brad, what is it? Are you feeling sick?”

  Icy-cold fingers gripped his. What the hell? Martin was at a loss as he watched Brad’s eyes wheel frantically. Ushering Brad quickly out the restaurant, Martin left Sarah to sort the bill. As they were sitting in the car, Brad’s glassy, unfocused eyes staring out the window made Martin worry his lip.

  Sarah’s departure went unnoticed. Brad’s distress was palpable. Unsure what had set it off, he rubbed his cold hands. Stifling heat filled the car, but it didn’t appear to be warming Brad. Fuck, maybe he should ring Sarah and ask her to come back and drive them to the hospital. He was not sure he could drive with Brad like this.

  He brushed his lips repeatedly over Brad’s. “Come on, baby, talk to me. You’re worrying me.”

  Small whimpers escaped. Brad sounded like a frightened animal. It was ripping his heart to shreds. Martin felt his own sobs rise as he begged, “Please, I need you to tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

  Brad’s sniffles filled the car before he burrowed into Martin’s neck. He whispered as if he was scared someone would hear.

  “I think I know Stuart Wilson. He used to work for my dad. He wasn’t very nice towards me.”

  Heavy silence followed. He breathed past the anger, not wanting to upset Brad further. It was the last thing he needed. Martin’s jaw ached, but he waited for Brad to continue. Words poured. Pain, hurt, and humiliation were at the forefront. Fear of his father’s retribution had kept him silent.

  “The taunts I could take, but the beatings.” Brad’s hands fluttered as he spoke. “If I defended myself when Stuart would leave, it would be ten times worse because I had humiliated him in front of his colleague. I learned it was easier to say nothing. The beatings lessened in frequency, but the ferocity… when he let it rip, he would flay me alive. I think that was when he did the most damage to my back. It took weeks to heal. I couldn’t even leave the bedroom. The maid used to bring my meals to me.”

  The matter-of-fact tone broke Martin, and sadness engulfed him. Martin could barely breathe past his tears. Blood seeped from his very soul, slashed by cruel actions of someone who should have loved Brad unconditionally. He was unsure who he was trying to soothe. His lips caressed, seeking a deeper connection. He could taste the saltiness of their combined tears. He tried to convey how deeply sorry he was for what Brad had suffered. Knowing that he couldn’t change Brad’s past was killing him inside.

  Brad’s gentle fingers tugged his hair. “I wasn’t going to tell you I love you till you knew it all, but tonight, I couldn’t hold it any longer.”

  Martin inhaled past his feelings.

  Brad trembled before asking his next question. “Do you still love me? Now you know I was so weak?”

  Martin restrained the surge of anger for the faceless bastard that had robbed Brad of his confidence. Joint sobs rose, tears mixing. Martin took solace from Brad’s crushing grip.

  “You are strength itself, baby. You are more than your scars. I love you. All of you.” He gripped Brad’s lowered chin. “Nothing will change that. Ever.” The time for gentleness had past. Brad ignited his passion.

  “Shit.” Martin pushed back, rubbing his elbow. “I don’t think the inside of my sports car is the place to be making out, do you?”

  Brad’s wet chortles relaxed the earlier tension.

  “Let’s go home.” The rightness of that statement settled deep inside Martin. They would figure out the logistics. Martin wanted them together. Always.

  Brad

  Brad woke feeling sweaty. Hair stuck to his face. As he pushed it out of his eyes, he registered the blistering heat. Brad pressed up, wishing Princess would move her arse off him.

  Thoughts fled as he encountered a naked thigh. Only then did Martin’s dark musky scent penetrate his sleep-muddled brain. Thrilled with pleasure, he slowly turned. Brushing his lips against Martin’s smooth chest, he watched him sleep.

  Memories of the evening flooded back. The gentleness Martin showed as he’d tucked him into bed with a sweet kiss. Nightmares he’d expected hadn’t happened, as if Martin had held them at bay. Encased in his protective arms, where it appeared he’d stayed all night.

  The heat of moments ago had him shifting. Martin held firm. Giving up, Brad settled into the embrace. Fragments of yesterday played over in his mind. Martin’s hot expression wh
en he’d arrived at the office. Hell, he’d never forget it. It had obliterated his well-protected barriers. He was unable to contain his love, and it had bubbled over. His earlier promises to himself were forgotten in the moment.

  He’d wanted Martin to consume him. Brad’s initial worries about what Martin’s work colleagues would think were lost under their passion. Emma though. Now she was a different kettle of fish. Her bitchy comments had him wanting to scratch her eyes out. It had only taken one look at Martin’s face. The clear contempt had stopped his concerns from spiralling out of control. Well, that and the kiss that had blown his brains all over the room.

  He smirked. Yes, he’d laid claim to Martin, letting everyone know they were a couple.

  Brad’s grin spread as he thought about Sarah. She had been a wonderful funny bonus. He wished his sisters were more like her.

  His thoughts drifted, and Brad absently exploring the tattoo on Martin’s pec. Things were just starting to come together between him and Martin. Then bam his past had him falling back to earth with a thud. He could feel the knots tighten inside him. It would appear his past was coming back to haunt him.

  Stuart, he was an enigma. He’d never understood what Stuart’s issues were. There had been a sadness that he wasn’t always able to mask. His cruelty had crushed Brad to the point he had avoided his dad’s right-hand man, grateful when the visits had decreased.

  Brad worried his lip. What would Martin do? He’d felt the anger in every fibre of his body. He had been unable to hide the wired tension, and it had finally triggered his outpouring. Cathartic in ways it had never been with the therapist. Relief made him feel lighter for the first time in years.

  He’d expected rejection, but Martin had cloaked him in love. That love had made his past seem irrelevant. It healed past wounds, ridding him of the evil that had somehow put roots inside him. Keeping itself alive until Martin’s declaration had yanked them out by the very roots. He could feel the difference deep inside him, almost as if Martin had planted a little garden of love instead. Sunflowers grew unfurling, seeking the love that nourishes the very heart of him, his soul. Martin’s love gave him confidence. A self-assurance his family had never cultivated. Funny, he’d never considered love could heal the damage. Even the scars seemed less somehow, no longer holding power over his thoughts.

  He’d been scared witless at the prospect of confessing his past, but Martin changed all that. His smile widened as reality started to really sink in. This wonderful man loved him. All that now lay in front of him; this wonderful man was his.

  Brad couldn’t resist, and he let his hands roam, drawn to the tiny gold bars. He tugged lightly, lost in his new truth. Seeing Martin’s response, Brad played with the puckered nipple. His heated breath made it rise further. Chuckling, Brad wriggled, finally noticing the pole trying to stab a hole in his stomach.

  Sleepy words drifted from above his head. “If you keep that up, you’re going to make me late for work.” Scattered, light kisses brushed the top of Brad’s head.

  Brad darted a quick glance at the clock. “Eh, I think we may have time.” Feeling emboldened, Brad moved back to those beautiful brown discs. Lips sucked as teeth gripped the gold bar, tugging. Martin’s sharp exhale was music to his ears. He thrust against Martin as their hard cocks got reacquainted. Brad’s lips tugged the nipple harder as his fingers teased the other nipple, twisting and pinching. He loved Martin’s jerky response and the leaky mess they were creating.

  Martin’s frantic question had him blinking, trying to re-engage his brain. “Where is your lube, baby?”

  Pointing to the drawer, Brad went back to driving Martin wild. Martin’s breathless moans excited him, but the slicked fingers aligning their cocks had his eyes rolling into his head. The feel of silk-encased steel sliding against his had sparks bursting behind his eyelids.

  Martin grunted, “Fuck, that feels amazing.”

  Brad groaned his approval as his hips sped up. Mindless, he chewed mercilessly on Martin’s chest. The finger teasing his crease had Brad pushing back. “Oh please, more please.” Gasping, his arse arching, Brad spread his legs, offering himself. Nerves awakened when slicked fingers sunk deep. “Oh yeah, right there. Oh fuck, harder!” Excitement spread between them. Martin’s hands worked in tandem. Slick, sweat-coated chests slid together, creating friction on Brad’s nipples. One finger became two, searching for his sweet spot. He felt breathless. Lights blinded him when Martin found it. Biting hard, Brad felt Martin jerk as his cum sprayed them both.

  Martin’s relentless hands had him barrelling towards his own pleasure. Cum gushed, joining Martin’s. The little aftershocks made him shiver, and he collapsed on Martin. God, he felt great.

  Martin’s hand waved in front of his face, dripping cum on to his chin. “Lick it clean, baby.”

  He groaned as his cock jerked in response to the husky command. Martin’s heavy-lidded eyes gleamed with lust as he watched Brad clean each finger. He put on a show, loving their combined taste. It was a heady rush. Not resisting the urge, Brad rose up fast, slamming his mouth to Martin’s plump, ripe lips. He slid in his cum-slicked tongue, sharing its bounty. The groan of approval was heady.

  Martin grasped his hair. His nails dug into his scalp as they ground together. Their most skin allowed ease of movement. Martin’s throaty moan had him grinding down.

  “Baby, you have to stop, or else I will be late for work.”

  Never ceasing, Brad pulled him closer and whispered, “You’re the boss.”

  His arse stung. The slapping noise had giggles erupting. “You think that will stop me?” Brad moaned, wiggling his arse up into Martin’s hot palm.

  Laughter filled the air as sheets tangled, and Martin’s fingers tickled mercilessly. Breathless, he pleaded, “I give up. I give up.” Martin’s mouth teased as he pinned Brad under him.

  “You are a bad influence.” Each word punctured with a soft kiss before Martin rolled off him.

  Brad watched Martin head to the bathroom, bottom swaying, enticing him to follow. Fuck, he could eat him whole. He considered following when the shower started. The slight movement by the door had guilt shuffling the lust aside. Crap, he’d forgot to feed Princess last night. He watched as Princess sidled up onto the bed, and stroked her head as she pushed up into his side.

  “Morning, my sweet. You hungry?” The head butt had him shuffling off the bed. “Eww, shit.” His skin pinched as dried cum flaked. He quickly sorted Princess and rushed back upstairs, hoping to catch Martin. Stopping in the doorway, he widened his eyes in surprise. The navy-blue pinstripe suit fitted broad shoulders as if made for him. Power radiated off him. The azure-blue shirt matched his eyes to perfection. The muted pale blue tie, for some reason, made his mouth water.

  Unconcerned by his nakedness for the first time in his life and feeling confident, he swaggered towards Martin. Words chanted, “Mine. All mine.” Touching, he pulled at the lapels, angling Martin so his mouth could reach. Nipping at Martin’s mouth, he sucked his lower lip between his teeth. Needy groans caressed his mouth.

  “Don’t forget you need to wait for me. I left my car in Douglas last night.” Smirking at the glazed expression, Brad sauntered into the shower, whistling. Fuck, he could get used to this.

  Leaning over the dashboard, he gave Martin a quick kiss but pulled back before things got out of control. He had already made Martin late. Brad felt domesticated when he asked Martin to dinner. He squirmed in anticipation and pleasure at his eager agreement.

  Martin gave him one last kiss. “Have a great day, baby. I’ll see you later.”

  Watching him drive off, Brad beamed at everyone while heading towards his car. His mind was full of ideas on how to make the night special. He pulled out his phone. Sparkling mischief had him skipping as ideas formed. Giggling, he followed his map heading to the shops for what he needed.

  Brad contemplated the clothes in front of him. He didn’t notice the shop assistant until he spoke.

  “Can I help
you, sir?”

  Brad’s smile widened in relief, his dimples flashing, completely oblivious to the others man’s reaction to him. “Well, I was thinking about, eh, maybe purchasing some of this, err, clothing.” Blushing, Brad looked away. Crap, this was harder than he thought.

  The gleam in the man’s eyes didn’t make him feel any better. The predatory perusal, nothing like Martin’s, made his skin crawl. He felt a little fazed as the man crowded into him. It took a moment to realise what was happening as spidery fingers touched his arm. Brad pulled back. Flustered and a little bit flattered that this man was interested.

  Tall and skinny, bleached blond hair spiked with product, his fringe fashioned to fall over one side of his face. It showcased his long, lean face, highlighting his almond-shaped dark brown eyes. Pouty pink lips bright and slick spread in a smile. The too-tight white jeans looked as if he’d sprayed them on. They didn’t hide the bulge that appeared to be growing. Alarmed, Brad looked up.

  The brown T-shirt hiding his skinny chest looked two sizes too big. A sweet, sickly smell of some kind of mixed flowers wafted with every hand movement. He moved back, his nose wrinkling. Brad tried to swallow past the pungent perfume permeating the air. He was perplexed as to why anyone would wear so much. He was lost in thought, and the question froze him in place.

  “Do you know your measurements? These garments cannot be returned once purchased.”

  The lisp had the slightly snooty voice sounding ridiculous, and he was convinced it was a put-on. No one sounded like that, did they? Not sure how to answer, he looked back at the garments hanging on the rack. There were so many colours and he wanted one, but he didn’t know what size he was. Finally, he answered honestly, as need won out. “No, no, I don’t know my size. I would normally just go for a medium.” Hopefulness dashed as dark eyes appraised.

  “They are size-specific thirty-two, thirty-four, thirty-six, and so on. I will need to measure you.” Spidery fingers pointed to the changing rooms. “Follow me.”