The Manx Cat Guardians Boxed Set Read online

  A strangled growl escaped as Martin glanced back sceptically at the man who sat next to him on the plane. How, pray tell, had he invited such drivel?

  He wasn’t bloody scared. Take that back. He was if this moron didn’t shut up for the hour they were on the plane. Sighing, he moved his shoulder. Hoping to block any further conversation, he purposefully slapped his headphones on. With his eyes closed, he concentrated on just getting through the next hour. Having rushed through departures, pleased it would not be much longer, he’d already texted Brad as they’d prepared for take-off.

  Brad’s rapid response had been disconcerting. He had to have been holding the phone, waiting. Delighted at the very thought, he’d relaxed. Well, that was until the man next to him had sat down.

  Focusing on the music playing, he listened to the words Olly Murs sang, “You don’t know love till it feels like you’d die if it were missing.” This gut-wrenching need to possess that ate at you? Was this love? The urge to protect Brad. Brad there, always in the background, making him struggle with day-to-day things. Common sense would say it was too soon to make such dramatic declarations.

  The edgy feeling seemed to dissipate with Brad. The contentment surprised Martin, especially, when the C word, commitment, was no longer a dirty word. But it seemed to be the only word, for him and Brad.

  Last night’s images of Brad in the throes of passion tormented him. His naivety was intoxicating. The squashed confines had him wiggling his arse, trying to get comfortable. Shifting, Martin could feel his trousers shrink. Martin moved the table down, casting a quick glance at the chatty man.

  His piling workload mocked. Emails stayed unopened. A contract was stuck in his briefcase. His lack of concern was disconcerting. It would appear Brad was tempting him to change habits of a lifetime. Work had always been his salvation in the past. Now, it seems to be the enemy taking him away from Brad.

  He fidgeted at the idea of change. The chatty man gave an expectant look. Realising he was making eye contact, he slammed his eyes shut. Nope, he just could not take it. “Bang your head against the wall” filtered through his headphones. Laughter bubbled. He rubbed his mouth but kept his eyes shut. The words were very apt. He twiddled the wire from his headphones as excitement balled tight in his belly.

  Not long. No, not long. How long had it been since take-off? Not wanting to open his eyes to look, he sighed his displeasure towards the chatty man. The hour dragged. The thud of wheels was a welcome relief. Martin pulled his headphones free from the iPhone, and his fingers flew with anticipation. He felt chatty man lean into his space. What the fuck! Was he reading his text? Turning, Martin stared. His brows rose, asking a silent question.

  A flush rushed up chatty man’s face. He jerked out of his seat and rushed to get off the plane and away from Martin’s angry glare. Martin ignored him. He didn’t have to wait long for his phone to vibrate.

  His lips twitched in pleasure. It was so on. Almost swaggering, he grabbed his stuff, a smile lighting his face. Brad wasn’t going to know what hit him.

  His black-and-silver R8 roared to life. Vibrations made his backside buzz as he hit the accelerator. Unleashed power thrummed through his hands. She was a thing of beauty. His precious. Transporting her had made him worry, but he’d survived his nerves. Just. He almost acted like an expectant father, checking her over to see she was still intact after the trip. Though she now had a rival for his affections. Buoyant laughter filled the small space. He had a feeling Brad would kill him for comparing him to a car.

  Brad’s simple response to his text had him smiling. Warmth spread at the thought of him waiting at home for him. Martin floored it. His eagerness died when the hulking, slow-moving tractor pulled in front of him. He was sulking as time ticked away. “Pass the bloody thing. Can’t you see nothing is coming.” Ranting, taking chances, Martin flew past several cars. The horn blasts grated, but he kept going. He had places to be; people to see.

  “Bloody Sunday drivers.” Huffing in frustration, he decreased the speed, not wanting to upset the fairies. “Hello, fairies, see you later.” The Manx were a superstitious lot. It seemed to be ingrained into the very fabric of the island. The Fairy Bridge was a big part of the island’s folklore history. The tree that sat by the bridge had hundreds of messages attached to its trunk. When pinned onto the tree trunk the hope was that the fairies would grant your wishes.

  Martin had always been superstitious. It’s something he believed you never messed with, ever. Waving, he made a little wish, carrying on home.

  Pulling up outside Brad’s, he noticed the curtains flutter. His insides clenched in anticipation. As he got out of the car, the loud crack was all the warning he got. He turned just in time to catch the flying missile that was Brad. Legs twisted and wrapped around him. They gripped in a stranglehold as their lips bashed together.

  He was unsure who was making the greedy noises that had his hips pulsing, but Martin didn’t care. Hardness met hardness, grinding. Martin’s fingers gripped, kneading Brad’s firm arse. He groaned as it flexed and withered under his hands. Violent need pushed to be unsheathed. He pulled back, gasping, trying to get a hold of his sanity.

  Slightly shocked by Brad’s behaviour, he had to admit it didn’t harm his ego one little bit. “Did you miss me, baby?”

  Brad’s large grin had Martin inhale sharply. His senses seeked the familiar ripeness. Brad made his mouth water. God, he was irresistible. Martin desperately wanted to take another taste. As he moved forward, his tongue already knew what it wanted, licking at Brad’s mouth, seeking entry. He hummed in pleasure, letting it vibrate as tongues stroked. Martin tasted the unique flavour that was Brad. His hands tightened as time seemed to stop.

  How could there be anything more than this driving need to possess? His want for this man was all-consuming. With heaving chest, Martin staggered towards the open door. Privacy. They needed privacy, now. The urge to take him on the grassy lawn was becoming far too tempting. His foot caught, making him rethink. Falling on his arse and squishing Brad would not be a good start.

  The disappointed whine Brad made as he pulled back had Martin choking back laughter. Brad’s pouty lips tempted him to carry on. “Unless you want me to rip off that very nice outfit you have on, then ravish you in front of the neighbours, we need to stop.”

  A devilish gleam had him all but swallowing his tongue as Brad tempted the beast by wriggling his bottom enticingly. Martin inhaled hard, attempting to stop Brad’s hips from driving him out of his mind. To get him to stay still was nigh on impossible as Brad picked up his pace. Groaning from the heat that flooded his body, Martin issued a warning growl.

  “You’re playing with fire, baby. I have no problem spanking that tight little butt in front of everyone.” His threat only seemed to encourage. He realised his mistake too late when a painful moan escaped as Brad ground harder. Hell, he had created a monster.

  Brad’s words added fuel to the inferno, blowing his mind.

  “Both options sound good.”

  Brad immediately hid his flaming face in Martin’s neck. Thinking Brad was embarrassed by his statement, he was shocked to feel Brad sucking hard against his neck. His eyes crossed, and his cock battled within the confines of his suit trousers. The urge to come surged hard and fast. Gasping past the need, he struggled to drag in air.

  When had breathing been so hard? Every breath intoxicated, air whooshed out as Brad’s mouth travelled higher up his neck. Oh hell, Martin knew he was in so much trouble as his mind shut down. Thinking was so overrated. Sounds penetrated past the lust. Feet travelling across gravel had reality piercing his lust bubble.

  Blinking rapidly, Martin struggled to understand what he was seeing. Ms Stevens’s veneer cracked. Her hate oozed, coating them both. Martin’s desire wilted, and he shuddered. The hatred had him pulling Brad closer, wanting to protect him. But this was no contest. A prize fighter couldn’t have landed a better punch to his gut. He was just grateful Brad had his back to her.

>   With a dazed expression, Brad looked for why he’d stopped. He didn’t want to let him go, but as he pulled back, he reluctantly let him slide down. As not to lose contact, he tucked him into his side, putting a protective arm around him. Brad’s flaming face spoke volumes as he tried to pull away.

  “Shush, baby, it’s fine.” Unsure who he was reassuring, he hugged Brad tighter. Undaunted, Martin slipped into politeness. Blatantly ignoring the hate, he gave her a blank expression. This was not his first rodeo, and he was sure it wouldn’t be his last dealing with hate.

  “Is there something I can do for you, Ms Stevens? We were just on our way out.” As if confirming it, he bent, picking up Brad’s forgotten jacket. He watched as she attempted to mask her feelings.

  “Err, no, I was just going to say welcome back.” Her voice was tight and harsh.

  It made Martin seethe at the intrusion. She knew, he could hear the insincerity, and that she would rather he was anywhere but near her home with his gayness.

  Aiming for polite, even if it killed him, he gritted his teeth, “Well, it was nice to see you, but we are in a rush.”

  With the realissation he’d not hidden the edge of steel when she frowned. Fuck her. He had her card marked. Having had enough, he took Brad’s hand, pulling him behind him.

  “Come on, Brad, places to explore.” Casting Ms Stevens a warning glance, he dragged open the car door, all but shoving Brad inside. His plans to change into something more comfortable could wait. He just wanted to enjoy this time with Brad and get away from fake sincerity.

  Once he had settled, he turned to Brad. “Okay, where is your most favourite place to visit on the island, baby?”

  The undivided attention Brad had with his dashboard had his brows rising. What was this? “Brad, is everything okay? I just want to know what part you like the most so we can start there.”

  As he fidgeted with his seat belt, Brad’s gaze flittered between him and the belt. Martin waited, giving him time.

  “Well, I don’t go out much. When I was little, we used to go the beach in Kirk Michael because I loved it, and now I have access to that from my back garden. I haven’t felt the need to go any further.”

  Halting, Brad cast a quick glance at Martin before plucking at the seat belt as if it was too tight.

  What was he missing here? Feeling the beginning of a headache, Martin rubbed his temples to ease the pounding. He breathed deep, not wanting to push, well, not yet. He wanted Brad to trust him.

  Martin gripped the steering wheel, trying to be positive. He smiled at Brad. “Well, let’s make it special. Discover the island together, then decide where we like best.” The undeserving devotion reflected in Brad’s tropical gaze had Martin struggling to contain his feelings. God, it was a heady feeling to have that devotion aimed right at him.

  “Now, do we head north, south, east, or west? You pick, Brad.” His husky voice betrayed his emotions. Brad’s eyes gleamed back at Martin. There was understanding in their depths.

  Brad broke the spell by suggesting the south of the island. He wanted to visit the Calf of Man. Brad’s fixation on seeing a seal in the flesh was adorable as he bounced in his seat. Not convinced Brad wouldn’t be disappointed, Martin did what he asked. The early tension dissipated with each mile.

  Martin’s earlier disappointment at the interruption was forgotten at Brad’s enthusiasm. Brad’s confession that he’d researched date options on what he called “Google-a-tron” had him beaming that he’d given it so much thought. Trying to keep it light, Martin talked a little about his past. Brad’s playful mocking about the nine-year age gap had them both laughing.

  Martin chided, “You know what they say. You’re only as old as the man you’re touching.” Giggles tickled his senses, even though Brad scowled as his words finally registered.

  “I’m not sure that I am happy about that!” Brad’s frown looked at odds when his dimples winked to life.

  Parking, he opened the car door. The brisk wind tugged hard at their clothes. He reached in and grabbed jackets. It may have been bright and sunny, but it sure as hell wasn’t warm. Martin shivered, huddling into his coat as Brad dragged him towards what appeared to be a monument.

  Martin observed Brad, as his eyes searched the cliffs. The wind had his curls whipping about his face. The sun-kissed skin only made his blond hair seem brighter. Haloing his head, it competed with the sun as it shone, glinting as Brad moved. Flushed rosy cheeks and excited tropical green eyes glowed. Breathtaking. The urge to pull his phone out and take a picture and capture Brad’s joy had him halting. He needed a moment to deal with the emotions flooding him.

  Brad’s excitement, however, was contagious. He pulled Martin along as feet slipped on the dewy grass. Brad seemed oblivious, pointing ahead of them.

  “See there, that’s the Calf of Man, but the smaller piece of land between is where the seals bask.” Racing forward, he didn’t let go of Martin’s hand. Brad’s joy had Martin looking at the rock. “Oh, my God, see there. Jesus, they are huge.” Brad’s eyes grew as big as saucers. His fascination was clear. His gaze riveted as seals lumbered across rocks, slithering their hulking bodies in and out of the water. Water glistened on their large bodies as they settled on rocks.

  The sky’s blue was hardly hindered by a cloud, allowing the sun to glitter off the water. The wind drove white waves to move over the rocks. Martin inhaled the saltiness. The air cooled his skin, even as it refreshed. It washed away the dregs of tiredness Martin had felt from travelling. Contentment filled him. He pulled Brad to the grass, revelling in the moment. He let their fingers link as they watched the show. Time seemed to slip away as Brad laid his head on his shoulder.

  Martin felt the wetness seeping into his trousers. The chill in his arse had him get up. “You ready for something to eat, or is it too soon? I could probably do with a coffee right about now.” Brad nodded as Martin pulled him to his feet.

  His eagerness explained as he spoke. “The café here has a good reputation for great cakes.” Brad’s dreamy expression at the word cake had jealousy rearing its ugly head. He knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t stop his feelings. He didn’t resist the urge to kiss his pouty lips.

  He readjusted himself as he pulled back. “God, you’re adorable. Do you know that? Come on, cake beckons it would seem.”

  Seated, Brad no longer appeared as at ease. He fiddled with the wooden number and avoided looking at Martin. Questions pushed at him, driving him to get to know and understand Brad better. He hesitated. His gut clenched as he gently touched Brad’s hand, offering silent support for what may be difficult questions for Brad to answer. “Brad, tell me a little about your family.” As if shot, Martin felt Brad’s body jerk hard.

  Chewing on his lip, Brad avoided eye contact. Unrepentant, wanting answers, Martin pushed on. “Have you any siblings? I can’t be the only one blessed with the dreaded sister.” The softness attempted to soothe as the questions seemed to grate.

  Convinced he wasn’t going to answer as he pulled back, Martin was surprised as words tumbled out.

  “There are five of us, including me. My mother and father, along with two sisters. Both of whom are older, one by a year, the other by two years.”

  Brad licked at his lips repeatedly. Martin tensed at his nervousness. Waiting for what, he wasn’t sure, but he knew it was not going to be good as Brad’s eyes lost focus as if reliving a memory.

  “I am not close with my family. My dad was quite controlling. I was a very big disappointment to him for many reasons. None of which I could change, which only made things worse. My sisters were spoiled brats, where I was left to my own devices. My dad didn’t like the fact I looked gay, or that I was small, or not butch, too pretty for a boy. The list was never ending. It didn’t seem to matter what I did. I couldn’t change it. I never came out to my family. I didn’t need to. It was pretty obvious from an early age that I was different. Whatever I did, that included breathing, appeared to inflame his anger.”

&nbs
p; Brad’s dismayed expression had lead settling in Martin’s stomach. The words had annihilated his earlier contentment. He inhaled past his rage. Brad’s apparent acceptance of his situation ripped at his heart.

  “My dad used to use a belt to beat the manliness into me. Beat out the gay. He did other things to, too long to list. But if I am going to be naked in front of you, well, it’s just best to let you know now the scarring is pretty bad on my back.”

  Martin blinked back the tears as the braveness obliterated his control. Lifting Brad from the seat effortlessly, he placed him in his lap. Brad’s lips wobbled, but he carried on as he snuggled into Martin, as if seeking his heat.

  “If you aren’t interested any more, then I understand. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  Brad’s passionate plea had Martin cradling him closer. Martin used his actions to show that he didn’t care about the scars or his past. He was precious. Fuck, he was beyond priceless to him. His initial anger died as Brad cuddled into his chest, nuzzling his neck. He was comforted by the feel of Brad’s even breaths against his skin. Brad had given him so much to him, his trust. Possessive thoughts careened through Martin. ”Mine.” Brad was his to protect. No one was ever going to harm him again. The silent vow cemented his feelings. Brad was his forever.

  A timid voice penetrated past his turbulent thoughts. “Number six, I think these are your sandwiches?” The young girl blushed, smiling shyly while peering down at them. Her freckled face was nearly the same colour as her hair.

  Brad jolted at the voice, burying his face in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. Unable to stop the chuckle, Martin responded, “Yes, thank you, love. Just put them on the table. You can take the number. We aren’t waiting for anything else.”

  Letting loose a full-wattage smile towards her, he thanked her. Martin chuckled when she got flustered. Being kind, he ignored the clatter of dropped cutlery and focused back on Brad who hadn’t moved.