The Manx Cat Guardians Boxed Set

by J P Sayle

  Pulling back thinking sex with Stuart must be messing with his head. He crossed the floor casting another glance at Princess, shaking off the odd feeling at the base of his skull. Grabbing what he needed at the sounds of water filling the bath.

  Princess

  Princess knew Joe’s thoughts were on other things, so she felt safe enough he’d miss her dance of happiness as she headed to her pillow, preening with every step. Dancing around her little bottom sashayed. She struggled to sit still even for a second, excited at the turn of events. She couldn’t have planned it better herself.

  They had been unaware she had come into the room as they’d talked about Joel. The mere mention of that Joel person had her feeling as if oil had been poured on her fur. The feeling slid over her normally positive outlook and darkening it. Princess’s senses told her the evilness was still there, clinging, wanting to decimate Joe’s new life.

  Her tiny brow wrinkled, claws dug into her pillow wondering what the universe was playing at. They were happy, the union perfect. It sparked a light so bright she’d felt it vibrate through her when Joe had let Stuart past his fears and doubts. Yet, there was something dark and insidious waiting, she could feel it.

  She shuddered at the impending sense of doom that filled her. Her claws unsheathed, ready to fight to protect their bond with everything that was in her. Her eyes gleamed, fierce as any mother. Nothing would stop her from protecting what she felt belonged to her.

  Her only concern for herself was the mention yet again of Aaden. Her hackles had sat on high alert at the mere mention of his name. These feelings were different, confusing her with their mixed messages. She had been keeping her ear to the ground, hoping to hear any whisper of information, but as of yet nothing. Feeling her frustration grow, she had wondered if Aaden could be her next quest, though not convinced because he had his own cat, and guardians were never placed with other cats. The main reason was because all cats were territorial, making the urge to kill the weaker cat far too hard to resist.

  The smell off Aaden’s jacket definitely said he had come into contact with a feline and an unusual one at that. The scent not something she had ever encountered before, appeared ancient, otherworldly. Making her curious as to whether the cat was a guardian, though not something she had encountered before in her long life.

  There was so much more to life than the eye could see or the ear could hear. If you just chose to let go of the obvious and trust the universe to show you. Having tried several times to focus beyond, a sliver of doubt had her ponder if her mother was interfering.

  Her mother’s presence drifted across her senses making the disquiet deepen. Nestling down on her paws she prayed the feelings would settle and soon, unsure how much more she was able to tolerate before she became angry. The quiet chuckles had her silently seethe, not rising to the bait she closed her eyes, letting her body sag into the velvet pad cushioning her. Repeated chants of she would be fine, did little to allay the fear that slithered across the back of her neck at her mother’s cackle.

  Stuart

  “Greg, get your ass in my office now.” Not giving him a chance to move Stuart continued to shout through the open door. “Where the hell is the file for the FSA? I know I asked for it half an hour ago, and still I don’t appear to have it in my hands.” Rubbing at his weary face, Stuart felt anger stab at the headache behind his eyes.

  Why couldn’t these incompetents just do their job, do I have to do everything myself? Stalking to the door, he looked out noticing immediately every head turned away, no one making eye contact. What the hell is their problem? Searching for Greg, he caught sight of his red hair as he retreated into the boardroom.

  What on earth was his problem? Stuart gave chase, striding quickly after him, slamming the door behind them, he cornered Greg.

  Spitting his anger directly at Greg, “Well, where is the fucking file I asked for?”

  Greg shrank before his eyes making him feel like a complete prick. Realising it wasn’t Greg’s fault he was in a foul mood, he took several calming breaths, hoping to rein in his temper. Figuring work shouldn’t be affected by a certain someone arriving on the boat that evening, didn’t seem to help him at all.

  The last five days had been a revelation after Joe had dropped all his barriers. Stuart felt they were finally getting to build something special and he didn’t want anything or anyone coming between them.

  Greg’s trembling limbs had him focusing on his pale blue eyes. The gleam of unshed tears had him holding out his hands in a peace offering. “Listen, I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have lost my temper. But I need that file if we are going to submit on time.” Attempting to put some warmth into his smile, Stuart figured he’d failed when all Greg did was grimace at him.

  Stuart surveyed Greg’s jerking body, thinking he looked like he had a nervous tick. Greg’s trembling hands he noted clenched at his sides. Oh hell, he must have frightened the life out of him. Sighing in disgust, Stuart sank slowly into the chair next to Greg. The silence between them only broken by the creaking of the leather as his weight settled into the chair.

  Stuart thrummed his fingers impatiently on the large mahogany boardroom table, distracted by the sunlight filtering through the partially open blinds as it cast patterns across the wood. The dust motes danced on its gleaming surface resembling tiny night stars suspended in the air.

  Greg’s hesitant voice had him looking up, regretting it immediately when his woeful sagging lips made him feel crappier, if it was at all possible.

  “I put the file on your desk with all your others as soon as you screeched.”

  The brave criticism gave Stuart his first genuine smile of the day. It took a second to appreciate Greg wasn’t woeful at all, but quietly mad. Having brought them into the boardroom for privacy, he evidently hadn’t wanted to chastise him in front of everyone, even though Stuart hadn’t given him the same courtesy.

  It only reaffirmed to Stuart his decision to promote Greg to office manager. He may still be timid most of the time, but he was evidently learning to hold his own under pressure. Immensely pleased by that thought he offered another apology.

  “I seem to be making a habit of apologising to you over this last week. So I won’t break the habit of a lifetime.” Stuart’s lips curved up at Greg’s exaggerated eye roll. “I’m sorry for being a complete prick.”

  Greg’s genuine smile had him breathing a sigh of relief, knowing he was forgiven, again.

  “When does Aaden’s boat get in?” Greg hushed sympathy had Stuart’s fingers stilling.

  Stuart’s brows disappeared under his fringe, was I that obvious? He slumped into the chair, his hands fiddled with the lone pen left from their earlier meeting. Stuart distractedly twiddled it around, feeling his lunch turn into a ball of cement in his gut.

  Stuart saw no point in denying it. “In a couple of hours, five forty-five pm I think the boat gets in from Heysham.” The pen whirled across the wood, spinning in circles. Stuart felt as out of control as the pen, as it rolled to the edge ready to fall into oblivion.

  Stuart looked away, the light from the window drawing his gaze, the brightness had him thinking again how happy he’d been since Sunday. He’d spent a long time considering his feelings for Joe, he was now surer than ever that Joe was it for him, belonging solely to him. Their connection now seemed more profound, even extraordinary after Joe’s revelations, making the depth of emotions Joe evoked inside him hard to contain at times.

  His thoughts, as they always did, circled back to Joe’s request to top; the power exchange not something he’d ever considered before. The level of trust had Stuart shifting, feeling the sweat bead down his back. In principle he loved the idea of Joe being the first to touch him in that way, his cock was entirely on board jerked its ever ready agreement. His initial plans to let Joe top last weekend flew out the window when Joe had taken control.

  Stuart couldn’t help himself from getting lost in the moment, watching Joe pleasure himself just
for him. Knowing he was going to sink in where those fingers had been busy working to open Joe’s beautiful body. It had been too much to resist, losing his conviction to let Joe top under wanton need. Groaning at the memories Stuart forgot himself, pushing down, trying to calm the party in his trousers. Stuart caught Greg’s stunned surprise, his ordinarily pale blue eyes now appearing black, the pupils seemingly consuming the colour. Wow, how weird, Stuart lent forward to get a closer look. Greg pulling back had him still.

  Buggering hell, he couldn’t afford for Greg to get the wrong idea. He was with Joe, he wasn’t remotely interested in anyone else. His actions a second too late had Greg stumbling over his words. “Err, I’ll just leave you in erm… peace… with your thoughts.”

  Greg’s pale skin flushing a rosy pink made Stuart wonder if Greg wasn’t as unaffected as he’d stated in the past. Recalling their first meeting, he’d felt a small spark shimmer very briefly between them, but, Greg’s timid and reserved nature was off putting. Well, that and Martin’s office rule on no interoffice relationships. He’d let that earlier flicker die.

  He was grateful that hadn’t stopped them from developing a friendship, even with my bad temper he reflected. In the absence of Martin, Stuart had confided in Greg, needing an outlet for his concerns about Aaden. Not share how Joe would feel about his worries; he’d kept them from him, not wanting him to think he was like Joel: a jealous, possessive bastard. Even if under it all, he was starting to think he was.

  Greg opened the door making Stuart think he was leaving him to his pity party until he spoke. “Go, you’re useless like this. You don’t even know what you’re doing work-wise. Martin will have your ass in a sling if you mess up something because you’re distracted by your boyfriend woes. Martin entrusted you to keep things running smoothly, and you, my friend, are not doing a very good job.” The implication of his little speech had Stuart bristling before he sagged back, knowing Greg was only telling the truth.

  “Seriously, man. Go, it’s nearly time to shut up shop for the weekend anyway. Go and meet this mysterious man. You’ll feel better and at least get off my ass and back on Joe’s.” The quirky flick of Greg’s hands was his final parting shot as he was shooed Stuart out the door, encouraging him to leave.

  “Fuck it.” Stalking out before Greg, Stuart felt every eye in the office turn away. The silence deafening, well shit that told me. He actually must have been that awful for them all to be so silent, Stuart spoke without thought. “Right, everyone, go home.”

  Copying Greg’s earlier shooing motion, “Go, its Friday, enjoy, do whatever it is you do, see you all Monday.”

  Stuart couldn’t contain his laughter when the noise rose to deafening levels as people chatted, grabbing their things, while turning off their office equipment, before rushing all at once for the doors.

  Greg smirked as he strolled past. “Don’t forget to lock up.”

  The parting shot had Stuart looking around, “Crappity crap,” realising too late he was left to check everything himself. Huffing at his stupidity, and for not asking someone else to lock up, muttering the entire time it took to lock down the building.

  Stuart rushed out the office and headed down Athol Street, checking the time, not wanting to miss Joe at the boat. He took a right turn on to Prospect Hill, walking into the brisk wind. Feeling it push and lift his hair, blowing it into his eyes and blinding him for a second. He tried to remember when his next appointment at Mop Hair was. It surely had to be soon judging by the length he could now tuck behind his ear. Stuart felt harassed when the wind didn’t want to play ball, continuing to whip his hair into his face. Giving up, he hustled past several people, his appointment forgotten at the feeling of excitement growing in the pit of his stomach at seeing Joe.

  He’d hid the gratitude he felt towards Aaden for choosing to stay elsewhere, even though the proximity left a lot to be desired, his rational mind understood that renting the house opposite was a good move. His jealousy on the other hand was not so on board and it made him anxious.

  Moving with purpose, unaware of the stares he received as he moved along the street. The charcoal grey suit matched his eyes perfectly. The lines of the custom-made suit fitted him to perfection showing off the breadth of his broad shoulders and extenuated his slim hips as the jacket tapered in. The black Abercrombie & Fitch overcoat flapped about his long, lean legs. Powerful strides showed no hint of his injury as he moved with ease.

  Stuart ignored the people streaming out of the offices around him, not wanting to get caught in conversation with anyone. His goal was to get to Joe and check out this Aaden character, if that then required him to show Aaden who Joe belonged to, then so be it. He rolled his shoulders back, feeling the tension gather as he searched for Joe’s van. Approaching the sea terminal, he considered where Joe would park. Not seeing the van out the front he walked around the side of the building spotting the dirty silver van at the end of the car park by the sea wall.

  Stuart couldn’t stop himself from tutting at the state of Joe’s van. Hell, he’d even offered to wash it. He just couldn’t get his head around the fact that he had thousands of pounds worth of equipment inside that he was extremely particular about, but the outside was left a filthy mess. He wasn’t even sure if it had ever been touched by soap or water that wasn’t rain since Joe had bought it, he shuddered in disgust thinking about the ground in bird shit eating at the paint.

  Shaking off what would clearly cause an argument if he broached the subject again, he headed directly to the van, valiantly ignoring the grimy dirt splattered all over it. Okay, he nearly did.

  Looking out into the bay feeling luck was on his side when the boat was still heading toward the dock. Loud screeching had him looking up. Seagulls circled overhead, their eyes trained on the thrashing waves the wind was stirring up. Clouds billowed across the darkening blue sky. The sun’s heat no competition against the crisp wind. Stuart felt a small shudder pass through him, pulling his coat closer to avoid the chill. His muted grey tie waved annoyingly, flapping around his neck before he could tuck it into his jacket. Why is it always so ruddy windy here?

  Puffing a little, Stuart tasted the salty air with each breath he dragged in, the smell and taste reminding him of a family holiday to Cornwall. He couldn’t ever get enough of the sea as a small child. Fascinated by the constant movement, he’d watch it for hours sitting on the sand building sand castles, waiting for the waves to come and demolish them only to start again. He supposed it had been part of the draw to the Island, surrounded by water you were only ever minutes away from it regardless of where you were. It allowed the small child inside him want to go down to the beach and sit and build those sand castles again.

  Stuart wondered if he could still buy a bucket and spade, and if he could talk Joe in building sand castles on the beach with him. Amused by his own thoughts he caught sight of Joe as he jumped out of the van. Pleasure bloomed, filling him with warmth that spread when Joe turned giving him a big delightful smile as he drew near. Offering his mouth up, Stuart was uncaring of who may be watching. Following Joe’s lead Stuart lowered his mouth taking what he desired. The gentle kiss caressed his tattered nerves, calming the last of his fraying temper.

  Joe seemed to know what he needed and offered it without thought, pulling him closer he treasured the feel of Joe’s firm body as it moulded into his. Shivers not his own had him pulling back realising Joe was shaking, his hands icy cold.

  “Where’s your jacket, sweetheart?” The sheepish look had Stuart shaking his head. How someone with such a brilliant mind could forget to bring a jacket was beyond him. He’d watched Joe work through the most complex problems with such ease. Then he would flummox Stuart, forgetting the simplest of things, like turning off the tap. Memories of stripping a sodden Joe had him smiling. Soggy flooring seemed like a small price to pay for the fun he’d had after ruining the spare bathroom’s carpet.

  The loud horn had them both start, he laughed at what he expected was joint s
tartled faces. Stuart took little solace from the fact it had stopped him from going any further. Once he got his hands on Joe, he found it difficult to pull away no matter where they were.

  Tucking Joe into his side, they watched the boat trundle in, slowly coming into the mooring. A lone figure caught his attention on the deck, his sheer size making it impossible to miss him. Not one given to fanciful thoughts, he couldn’t stop himself thinking that there was a dark aura encasing him. Unable to make out his features, but his rigid stance seemed etched with a sternness that was more than skin deep. Stuart for some reason had the bizarre feeling this man didn’t have much light in his life.

  Shaking off his maudlin thoughts, he was shocked when the man’s giant hand lifted waving at them. Looking down at Joe, Stuart stilled at the beaming smile Joe was offering the stranger. No, not a stranger it would seem, holy fucking moly this is Aaden? The muscle-bound giant was Joe’s friend. Dread sat like a heavy weight on Stuart’s shoulders, making him physically have to push them back. He watched the figure move out of sight, feeling his stomach drop at the reality.

  “So that’s Aaden?” The gruffness of his voice didn’t hide the biting jealousy it would appear, if the hard stare Joe give him was anything to go by. He grumped silently, feeling the lash of Joe’s harsh glare. Stuart’s own temper wanted to surface making him clench his fists into Joe’s jumper. Lowering his head instead, bumping his lips over Joe’s icy ones, licking the seam warming them with his breath. He released a contented sigh when Joe responded, deepening the kiss. He gently cupped Joe’s head, tilting it to get a better angle. Stuart moved into Joe’s body letting his heat warm the cooling flesh that shivered under the old blue woollen jumper. He knew it would have more holes than the Manx roads, and that was saying something.