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Captain Jack's Wet Dream (MM)

TomCats 3

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: SCORCHING
Word Count: 27,419
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[Siren Classic ManLove: Erotic Alternative Paranormal Romance, M/M, older hero, shape-shifters, HEA]

Captain Jack Saylor is about to turn forty-five and he's uber-sensitive about his age. When his buddies at TomCats Resort in Key West throw a birthday party to cheer him up, Jack never expects a beautiful Asian man to jump out of the cake. Aran Suttirat, the twenty-one-year-old that arrived from Bangkok, is not Jack's usual type, but Jack's pheromones go into overdrive when the boy lands on his lap.

Aran is the new masseur, and he gives Jack a birthday massage with a happy ending the Captain can't forget. Jack is smitten, but the boy is too young for him, and besides, Jack's been commitment-phobic since losing his mate years ago.

Aran doesn't agree, and he'll do anything to change Jack's mind, including playing dirty. But can Aran bring Jack to his senses and convince him they can have it all?

A Siren Erotic Romance

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Excerpt

STORY EXCERPT

 

Jack picked up his bottle and held it to his mouth. Empty. Damn. Carefully avoiding the dancers, he made his way to the bar for another Corona. The music was loud, and Jack felt a headache coming on. At the bar, all the stools were occupied and Jack stood unnoticed behind two men who he recognized. They had taken a sunset cruise earlier in the week, and the sandy-haired man had flirted with Jack shamelessly. Nothing had come of it—then. Maybe tonight they could take things to the next level.

Jack was about to squeeze between them and make contact when the flirt turned to his buddy and laughed. “I’d do the Captain for sure. He looks great for his age.” The darker man smacked his lips. “Think we could get that daddy interested in a threesome?”

Daddy? Jack froze, horrified. He was nobody’s daddy and especially not to two men who were well into their thirties. Jack was turning forty-five for Christ’s sake, not senior citizen status, not by a long shot. He’d been told many times that he was hot. Yeah, but a lot of those times the compliment had been qualified with the words for his age. Those three words changed everything. He died inside every time he heard them.

His drink forgotten, Jack took a deep breath, ran his fingers through his hair, and walked toward the bathroom. He needed a few minutes alone. Jack stood at the sink and looked intently at his image in the mirror. When had he become a middle-aged cat? Did he really look forty-five? The years had passed so quickly. It seemed like only yesterday that he and the others had come here from New England, where their families had lived for years. They were young men on vacation who had fallen in love with Key West and stayed. When the opportunity arose to buy an abandoned cigar factory, they took it and turned the property into the popular all-male resort—TomCats. That time seemed so long ago, but it was only ten years. The other cat-shifters had been in their twenties. Although Jack had been the oldest, at thirty-five, Tom Kay had handled most of the transactions and became the unofficial CEO of TomCats, Inc. That was fine with Jack. He didn’t care about business. His love for the sea took precedence over everything else. TomCats charters was his baby, but he didn’t get too involved in the financial end. He was all about sailing and taking care of the sloop.

It was a good life, so why was he so fucking down? The face staring back at him didn’t look all that different. No wrinkles creased his angular features. His ocean-blue eyes were still sharp. So his black hair had a few streaks of gray, so what?

Fuck it. He knew he was still attractive. It was just that he was always surrounded by beautiful men, and being the oldest of the group they felt they had to tease and remind him of it all the time. He knew he was hot. He heard it enough. Daddy? Really? Give me a break.

This was bullshit. He wouldn’t let a few careless words bug him, not on his birthday. He splashed some cold water on his face, opened the door, and got blindsided by Tom Kay.

Tom slapped him on the back. “Hey, Stud.” The auburn-haired cat-shifter looked him up and down. “Not too shabby for your age.”

Jack bared his teeth at his friend and headed out toward the bar. He heard Tom laughing behind him. Jack normally liked hanging in the resort bar, but tonight it just depressed him. He wished he could leave, but he’d already committed to sticking around for Tom’s impromptu birthday party.

The weather had sent him into a funk all week, and yesterday when it had become apparent that he would not be taking the boat out on his birthday, Jack had holed up in his room and stopped answering his phone. It hadn’t stopped Tom Kay from getting on his case. The other shifter had paid him a personal visit. The redhead had talked and talked and talked, while Jack sat on the edge of his bed, trying to ignore him. Tom had insisted on champagne and birthday cake at midnight in the bar. Distracted and morose, Jack wasn’t interested, but finally he had agreed, just to get the other cat out of his room and his hair.

Now he was stuck. Damn it! Jack looked at his watch. Twenty minutes until the witching hour. His pals and everybody else in the bar would sing, he’d take a bite of cake—I hope it’s at least chocolate—and then he would make his getaway. He went back to his table, hoping the time would pass quickly.

Tom, that fucker, stood by the bar, with a shit-eating grin on his face. Jack fumed. Why did he let himself get boxed into this corner? He never should have agreed to go along with this party crap.

Jack looked away from Tom and his gaze lit on Aran, still out on the dance floor. Eyes closed, a slight smile on his face, Aran leaned his head back, oblivious to the people dancing around him. Aran was small, no more than five feet eight or nine inches, and yet he commanded the floor. The boy had a noticeable aura about him, a feline grace that lent itself well to the dance floor. He didn’t just dance. It was like the music was inside him, part of his soul.

Aran’s T-shirt and baggy boardshorts did nothing to accentuate his body, and yet the look made Jack’s mouth water and his dick hard. His gaze lingered on Aran’s perfectly formed calves. The sight mesmerized him.

This wasn’t the first time he’d seen Aran, but it was the first time he’d seen him dance and the first time he’d allowed himself to scrutinize the boy so closely. When Aran had first arrived in Key West, the sight of him had sparked so many painful memories in Jack that he had turned tail and run like a scared rabbit. He’d kept his distance ever since.

Now Jack found himself staring at Aran hungrily. The boy was sexy as fuck, and Jack couldn’t take his eyes off him.

 

ADULT EXCERPT

 

At first Jack worried about what was going through Aran’s mind. Did the boy think he looked old or out of shape? He tried to tell himself that he didn’t care what Aran thought of his body. The truth was, he did care—very much. But gradually Aran’s hands worked their magic on him, and he forgot to worry about how he looked. The relaxing atmosphere helped—the music, the candles…and those magic hands that made his stress melt away like ice under a hot Key West sun.

Aran’s quiet competence inspired Jack’s confidence, and his slow, soothing strokes hit all the right spots. Jack’s mind started to let go of all anxiety, and he drifted off. He barely noticed when Aran moved to sit at his feet. The young cat-shifter took hold of Jack’s right leg and started to work the calf muscles, finally ending at Jack’s toes, and then moving on to the left leg.

One last pull on the toes of Jack’s left foot and Aran reached for the bottle. “I just need more oil,” the boy said softly as he moved further up between Jack’s legs.

Jack could feel Aran’s knees gently pushing on the inside of his thighs, and he made a small sound of protest.

“Trust me?” Aran murmured.

“Yes.” Jack was surprised to realize that he did.

Uncapping the bottle, Aran poured more oil on his hands and let a little drizzle between the cheeks of Jack’s ass.

Jack’s relaxed mood disappeared in an instant, and he let out a guttural growl. His nerve endings were on fire, and his ass clenched in anticipation.

Aran paused in his ministrations. “Just relax, this will feel good.”

That’s the problem. It feels too good. Jack didn’t want to look like an idiot and he didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing, choosing to retreat inside himself. A wall came up, the one that barricaded his heart and emotions and protected him from getting hurt. Jack had never tried to block off his sex drive before. This would be a first. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore what Aran was doing to him but his whole body went tense as Aran started to knead his ass.

“Do you want me to stop?” Aran asked softly.

Yes! “No.” Fuck. Aran’s touch just felt too damn good, and Jack couldn’t force himself to end this.

Gentle fingers trailed down his crevice and ever so lightly over Jack’s hole. The fire in Jack’s groin grew hotter, and the heat radiated throughout his body. Instinctively, he pushed back against Aran’s hand, but Aran pulled away and asked him to turn over.

Is he trying to drive me crazy? Frustrated, Jack did as he was told and lay with his arms at his sides. Aran kneeled at Jack’s head and touched his face with light strokes and taps. A twinge of panic overtook Jack. The whisper-light touches felt more intimate than anything he’d experienced so far. They felt like expressions of affection, and Jack shied away from the signs of intimacy.

Once again, Aran seemed to sense his discomfort, and he moved his hands to Jack’s head. Now that felt good. Aran’s skilled hands left his entire scalp with a warm tingly feeling.

“You’re doing great,” Aran murmured. “Now, I’m going to help you release the stress and tension from your chest.”

Aran gripped Jack’s shoulders, pushing down on them together, then alternately. Then his hands slid firmly up the middle of Jack’s chest, fanning out and applying pressure to the muscles.

Damn, the kid was good. Tension drained from Jack’s body. Suddenly, Aran’s fingers danced over Jack’s nipples, making the nubs stiffen as he pulled on them, softly at first, then harder. Jack went taut as a wire. Aran didn’t give him time to think about it. His slick palms glided down to Jack’s abdomen and headed for dangerous territory, but they stopped at his belly, rubbing and kneading. 

Jack’s inner feline purred with approval. Kneading was a cat thing, and Jack wondered if Aran was enjoying this as much as he was. He actually felt disappointed when Aran stopped. More oil? Then Aran was leaning over him again, and he felt the boy’s hot wet mouth cover the head of his cock. Oh, fuck! He had a second to wonder how Aran got his clothes off so fast, and then Aran’s lips clamped around the crown of his cock and sucked hard. All rational thought left his head.

Aran’s engorged shaft hung over him, and the leaking tip brushed against Jack’s lips. The boy’s musky scent was irresistible and Jack gave in to temptation. He stretched his neck so he could tongue the slit. Delicious! The boy shuddered in response, and they rolled as one, so that they were lying on their sides. Jack rubbed his stubbled jaw along Aran’s shaft. The boy’s hips bucked, and Aran moaned around the thick flesh filling his mouth.

Like that, do you? Jack smiled to himself and did it again.

The boy writhed in his arms, and Jack held him steady as he followed the friction with soothing swipes of his tongue. Pleasure shot up Jack’s spine as Aran’s small hand slipped between his thighs and traced the crease of his ass. An oil-slick finger penetrated Jack’s hole, making him moan.

Intent on giving as much pleasure as he was getting, Jack swallowed Aran’s length, letting his throat muscles squeeze the boy’s cock. Aran gripped him tighter, and they lay entwined and absorbed in the mutual pleasure of sucking each other’s cock.

 

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