Lord of the Grrr's (32 page)

Chapter Four

Scenic farmland and a well maintained Craftsman-style bungalow built in 1920 with 2,495 square feet of living space. Property includes a barn, shed, grain bin, and unfinished garage. Situated on twelve acres, this property has never changed hands since it was built. Foreclosure auction, 9am courthouse steps. Price starts at $150,000.

Rafe read it twice before clearing his calendar for the first Friday in January. He wanted that house.

"Janice! Can you pull the records for a house for me, please? I'd like to go see it and want to reach the former owner." He yelled through the office.

"No problem, Mr. Canis. I'll email you the contact information soon." She yelled back. While their intercom system worked fine, they more often than not yelled whatever they needed to reach each other. While they were on their more formal behavior around clients, the office rarely saw visitors.

He had been thinking of heart of pine floors and period tile when the familiar ding of his computer alerted him to the email.
Martin James. The Graham Cracker Bakery. Now residing at 137 Rosewood Apt 24.

The name was the first thing that made a slow spreading sickness engulf him. The bakery name was the second.
Jiggly James
. A lifetime ago he was in love with him but all of Rafe's popular friends hated him. To blend in, he became the worst of the worst around the boy, all while dreaming about him at night. He had become insanely popular with his classmates, while Martin faded away.

The Graham Cracker Bakery
. That bakery helped give him strength and a place to rest after a hunter took him for prey and the resulting chase pitted him in the middle of a rival wolf pack and a hell of a fight. He had made it just to the alley when Martin the bakery owner appeared offering food and water. His inner wolf remembered how he had stroked his head and whispered lovely things. He had to see him and hope that he didn't recognize him from high school, or at least could forgive him.

Rafe checked the clock on the wall and saw it was just in the middle of the lunch rush, 12:30, and decided to hit the bakery rather than his home. At only three miles from the office, it made for a relaxing break from his normal lunch routine of combing through housing markets on his phone.

He arrived just in time to see a beautiful dark haired man, Martin, rise up to kiss a smug looking businessman. While his eyes were closed, his wandered along the sidewalk. Rafe knew that type. He made his way in as Martin expressed apologies for the lack of professionalism before he had even looked at his customer. When he did, his smile ceased and his entire body went rigid.

"Homeland High." It was all he said as he went behind the counter.

"Yes, and I'm terribly sorry. I just found out today where you were and I came here to apologize for the wretched way I treated you then. There are no words to make it better but do know I truly regret it." The words came out of him in a rush before he could stop them.

Martin wrapped an apron around his waist and secured its long sashes before continuing. "I lived. Why are you really here?" He still didn't look him in the eye and kept focal points throughout the bakery instead.

"You don't believe that I came by to apologize?" He asked as he eyed the corner where he and Martin laid asleep together that night he was injured. He closed his eyes briefly and could almost be transported right back to that evening, even smell the eggs he scrambled up for him.

"Not for a moment do I believe that."

He produced a card and got to the business end of the trip. "Canis Realty. I'm very interested in buying the house that is coming up for sale Friday." He tried not to use the word foreclosure.             

"So let me get this straight. My former high school bully, the one that damn near drove me to drop out of school, wants to take my house away from me, too?" He was pacing and the sight of him doing so, the smell of his anxiety, was making Rafe's wolf anxious as well. Rafe started to back away and took long, deep breaths to try and relax.

"I assure you I'm not taking your house away. Your bank did that. I merely wanted to buy it and had hoped perhaps I could see it prior to the auction, for a fee of course." The fee was a spur of the moment thought, trying to smooth over his intrusion. He realized in hindsight that it probably wasn't winning him any brownie points.

"I don't need you. I don't need your money. Now get out of my bakery." Martin said as he pointed toward the door.

Chapter Five

Brad looked left, then right, then left again, sure he saw something in the corner of his eye.
Perhaps it was just nerves
, he thought. His hand hovered over the handle of the Osprey Inn and Suites room #201 before he finally grasped it and turned. On the other side waited Grant House, a 22 year old blonde pool boy with a passion for money and the men who had it. While he clearly made it known that he was after a marriage to keep him funded in the lifestyle that he had grown accustomed to, Brad was stringing his along. In due time, he'd dump him and marry Martin.
What a different era today where we have the right and the expectation of wedded bliss
, Brad thought.

They'd been seeing each other a couple of weeks now, Brad and Martin. He'd settle down and raise some kids with the "right" type of man, but for now, all he wanted was to slip inside that hot  young thing waiting on the bed.

Grant smirked as Brad slipped off his coat and watched it fall to the floor.  One by one, he fingered the buttons of his shirt until it eased off his shoulders. Kicking his shoes to the side, he held his with one arm while his free hand worked his pant zipper.

"I've got about an hour and then I have to be back across town, we've got to make that hour count. You've got the room all night, feel free to hit the spa later." Brad  grinned at his as he laid down on top of him, letting his tongue lick his neck up to his ear. "You know all the things that I like. Make me moan, Grant"

The lean blonde boy slid down to take him into his mouth as he swirled his tongue around Brad's thick bulbous cock head. He used long, wet strokes up and down his shaft to build him up before plunging all of Brad's eight inches into his throat.  Brad's hand snaked down the bed and found the boy's hardness. His hand clenched and pumped him hard as the young man moaned around his cock. Brad loved that sensation. If Martin would ever do that, then he may actually fall in love with him. There was something about that vibration going around him as he was being sucked that sent him over the edge.

He put his hand to the back of Grant's head and guided it to and from his cock at the rate he wanted to be blown.
He likes to tease me, thinking if it lasts longer there'll be a ring soon. I just want to cum and get out of here.

Brad's hand worked the boy with an expert touch, and he knew Grant was close to his own orgasm. He was flush and his breathing was already starting to be erratic. If there was one thing Brad knew it was how to push Grant's orgasm button. He was so close to getting him to cum when his phone went off.

Hey baby, thinking of you. Hope you are missing me
.

A text from Martin. Brad texted him back with one hand as he was still pumping the pool boy with all his might with the other hand. He just had hit "send" when the blonde's orgasm came crashing, spurting long strands of cum all over the hotel's expensive bed linens.

Miss you tons. Thinking of you right now.

"That was the office, Grant, let's wrap this up." Brad said to the panting boy as he gripped his head with both hands and grunted hard into his face. After a few deep and hard thrusts, he finally came and shot it straight into his mouth, not removing his cock before it was done.
He definitely did better this time around
, he thought,
didn't gag but once or twice. Next time I'm going to pop that sweet ass.             

While Grant had left the room to clean up, Brad was busy getting dressed. He still needed to get back across town and get ready to see Martin before the day was out. He wondered why anyone thought having more than one man was easy.

"And I was thinking, maybe next weekend we could go to the lake and rent a cabin. I'd love you to meet my parents." The young man said as he walked from the Inn's bathroom and realized that Brad was no longer in the room.

Chapter Six

Rafe was the first to arrive at the courthouse steps that chilled snowy January morning. While he never got to persuade Martin to let him in to see the interior, he was sure it was a flipper's dream. The 1920's were famous for the knob and tube wiring, but aside from having to completely rewire the home, the period styling of the tile and wood used in it would be kept. While the framework of the home would not change, Rafe was dying to get it completely renovated to new modern appliances.

Slowly as the morning progressed, people began to fill the steps.

"This may be a bit more difficult than I planned," Rafe mumbled under his breath. He'd brought $200,000 and hoped it didn't go higher.

He looked down on the flyer that was handed out to everyone that was there by the 9am start time and saw that his bungalow was fifth to be sold. So far the houses before it had been bought slightly above their starting bid price, so it bode well for the bungalow.

"Now we have the 1920's Craftsman up for auction, keep in mind there is acreage and farm buildings that go with the property. Do I hear an opening at $150,000?" Jason Marks, city clerk of Conner County offered to the crowd.

Rafe waited, not wanting to appear eager. Sure enough, another gentleman in the crowd bid.

Rafe's hand went up as he countered, "$155,000"

It was back and forth until the man that had originally bid announced, "$225,000,"

It was well above Rafe's cut off, but he couldn't stop himself before he looked the man dead in the eyes, flashed those jade and gold eyes of his own and stated, "$250,000. Final offer."

The steps were quiet while Jason surveyed the participants. "Going once? Going twice? You Sir, have just bought you a fine little Craftsman home for a quarter of a million dollars."

Rafe started further up the steps to the court office to pay for his home, get the keys, and see what there would be to do to get it ready for market.

It was a short drive to get to the sprawling property that sat off the road and far away from any neighbors. Secluded, peaceful, he could see why this had stayed in the family. He could see him living there, raising a family, keeping it for generations to come.

"I wonder what happened that made Martin lose it?" he asked himself as he walked up the cobblestone path to the front steps.

The key slipped into the lock like an old friend. He turned the knob and sharply inhaled when he saw the interior. The walls were wood not sheetrock, giving the inside a feel of a log cabin. The entire place was done in hues of hunter green, red, and deep brown. Period fixtures were still there and usable, like a time capsule from the ages. He didn't want to change a thing. However, the exterior needed help. A new roof, some new siding, fresh coat of paint, and some shutters rehung and the house would be perfect. He could almost smell the pies and cakes that had come out of that kitchen with its double oven.

He sat on the front porch rocking chairs and thought about how much it would take to refurbish all the buildings on the property, clean up the landscaping a bit and get it all up to code. Even with those estimates he knew he could turn a hefty profit in today's market by listing it online  with pictures of its interior. There was a draw to the property. He was torn on what he'd end up doing, but knew he needed to get started in the morning. After it was done, then he could sort out whether to keep the property for himself or turn it for a profit.

Chapter Seven

Rafe had spent all day and most of the afternoon getting permits to have the Craftsman house rewired and up to code. It had been a cold venture, not daring to turn on any type of heating until he knew what he was dealing with. With the day over, he drove to get something to eat and ended up at the Osprey Inn which was minutes from his office. They were somewhat known for their prime rib, and Rafe was in the mood for some beef.

He walked in just as a tall fellow and a staggering cute blonde guy were walking out. Rafe paused momentarily, knowing the tall man was familiar yet couldn't place him. His eyes closed and scanned his memory. The wolf in him started pacing with anxiety. The bakery. The man was with Martin and that blonde was
not
Martin.

Rafe had vowed not to be confrontational after high school was over in a self imposed exile from anger. Whenever he felt the need to start a fight, he went to the woods and let his wolf run out free. It was one of the easiest ways for the human him to calm, but his wolf had never been angered before. After the compassion that Martin had shown him when his wolf was injured, now the wolf was seeking vengeance for Brad's transgression.

Rafe spun around and took a few cell phone pictures. There were ten or so he was able to get before the man had put the younger gentleman in a cab and turned to go back into the restaurant at the Inn. It occurred to Rafe that they had never formally met, so he followed him back inside. The man was at the bar and Rafe took the seat next to him.

The two sat and ordered whiskey neats, with Rafe raising a glass to him.

"Unwinding before going back to work and to the little man, you?" Brad had asked him.

"Unwinding after work, no man to go home to."

"Name's Brad, and you are?"

"Rafe, Rafe Canis." He answered as he watched Brad choke on his whiskey.

"You bought my boyfriend's childhood home."

"I bought a home that was in foreclosure. You, however, are fucking a barely out of high school boy while your
man
waits for you at home, so do you really want to have a pissing contest on who is hurting Martin the most?" Rafe spit out, his eyes flaring. He’d been unable to keep himself from growling the word
man
because it wounded him to refer to Martin as this rogue's man, even in anger. He could just almost feel his teeth begin to lengthen and taste the familiar taste of sulfur in his mouth before beginning the breathing exercises to stop the transition from happening.

"Hey whatever you need to tell yourself, buddy." Brad's hands were up as he started to down his drink and walk away into the early evening chill.

"Good luck keeping Martin, asshole" Rafe whispered as he adjusted his collar, set a 20-dollar bill on the counter, and headed for the office.

Janice was just beginning to finish up for the day when he arrived. He went to take his coat back off when he waved his hand to signal her to go ahead and go. "But Janice? Can you slip the envelop that will be waiting for you in the morning in the post first thing when you arrive? It needs to be done urgently."

"Of course, Sir."

"Thank you, have a good evening Janice."

"Good day, Sir." Janice could smell whiskey on his breath, something that was entirely out of the ordinary for Rafe, an abstainer.

Rafe sat in his oversized office with his head in his hands. He knew what he was going to do, but he hated himself for it. Slowly, he sent every picture he had taken of Brad and his mystery man and printed them out, stuffing them into a large envelop and scrawled Martin's address on the outgoing label.

"Martin, you will think I'm out to hurt you, but I swear I only  have your best interests at heart. No one deserves to be second, especially you." He said into the night air as he dropped the manila envelop into the day's to-do basket Janice kept on his desk.