The Manx Cat Guardians Boxed Set

by J P Sayle

  “Thank you for tonight and letting me help with your plans. I’ll see you out.” As he stepped past Aaden to the door, Greg’s arm brushed Aaden’s chest. The urge to simply touch the soft cotton of his blue shirt had his hands ball tightly at his sides.

  Feeling out of sorts, he sidestepped Aaden, walking through the lounge and into the hall. He opened the door when he heard Aaden pick up his jacket off the coat rack, shivering at the cold blast of wintery air hitting him.

  Unsure what was going to happen next, Greg paused and waited to see what Aaden would do.

  When Aaden walked past him out the door into the dark, cold night, Greg’s shoulders drooped.

  He glanced up as Aaden spoke, seeing a glint of mischief in Aaden’s dark depths. His sudden dejectedness lifted as Aaden spoke.

  “You want to come over to mine tomorrow after work? I can’t offer you a home-cooked meal. Remember, no kitchen, but I can do a mean takeaway.” Aaden’s hands fluttered at his sides, smug humour coating his words. It lifted the atmosphere Greg knew he’d created.

  He nodded at Aaden.

  “Yep, I would love to do takeout with you.” Wagging his eyebrows at Aaden, he was pleased when he grinned back.

  Aaden leant down, offering a quick peck to Greg. The disappointment was back as Aaden lifted quickly, not giving him the chance to take more. Greg huffed, his fringe tickling his brow. Aaden gave him a quick salute before turning on his heel and walking away, whistling.

  “Bastard, you did that on purpose.” Greg’s irritated shout was met with a howl of laughter that had his lips twitching in return.

  “You know what they say, Greg. Be mean and keep them keen.”

  The laughing words had Greg wanting to show Aaden mean. A smile lit his eyes as he watched Aaden get in his van, giving him a final wave and drive off.

  Oh, he wants to play games, does he?

  Greg shut out the freezing dark night and headed upstairs.

  He stopped midstep.

  Shit, he hadn’t shown Aaden around his home. He looked up at his bedroom door. It was maybe for the best. There was no way he would have stopped if they had gone in there. Though it would seem Aaden had a will of iron.

  Greg hastily ran up the remaining stairs and went to his underwear drawer, wanting to test that theory. He pulled it open and looked at the selection inside.

  He picked up a silky, rubicund satin pair of handmade, tight-fitting underwear. The labels were still attached. He’d ordered them on a whim a couple of years ago, but had never had the courage to wear them. Or the right man to entice, it would seem, until now.

  Greg rubbed the satiny material over his palms, enticed by the feel of silk against his skin. The urge to try them on and see exactly how they looked had him shimmy out of his clothes and his boring black underwear.

  The softness and delicate material had his earlier erection returning as it rubbed against his thighs as he pulled them on. His dripping cock poked up, making him reconsider. Not wanting to get them stained, he looked over at the bedside cabinet, seeing a box of tissues. He shuffled over to the bed and swiped up a couple to wrap around his leaking cock. Satisfied he’d solved his problem, Greg tucked his now enclosed cock into the silky material.

  A low groan filled the room as he let his body absorb the feel of silk sliding against his skin. He opened the wardrobe door, to reveal the full-length mirror stuck to the door.

  His breath caught in his throat at how the silk hugged him, showing off his attributes so prettily. He preened in front of the mirror. His tan disaster forgotten when the urge to unwrap his cock and feel the full effect of the silk on his skin had his cock pulse, leaking harder.

  Quickly, before he could give in, Greg slid the pants back down his legs. A silly grin spread across his face. Aaden wouldn’t know what hit him when he got a look at him in those gorgeous pants.

  Greg flipped on his phone, scrolling to a playlist. He hit play, going to the bathroom with the sound of “Breathe” by Jax Jones singing loudly.

  Greg’s grin stayed put as he stepped into the shower, only to drop when his mind replayed back their conversation.

  He scowled down at his deflating cock when the reality hit home. Aaden believed he wasn’t ready, and okay, he might have had an “oh shit” moment at the initial idea of forever. Then it had struck him that the idea of forever with Aaden was all he wanted. It more than floated his boat. Christ, he was already floating towards Aaden at a rate of knots at the very idea, never mind the reality.

  He wanted this, whatever this was.

  He’d, if he was honest, had wanted it from the moment they’d met. And, okay, he thought, in the beginning, it was only lust. There were so many reasons he wanted Aaden, and his body was only part of it. A big part, he acknowledged. But now, now he could feel it, deep inside, the need to connect and be with Aaden. Be with him, on every level.

  Aaden’s compassion, thoughtfulness, and downright over-the-top protectiveness showed a softer side he hid behind a hard exterior. Much like a boiled egg, the hard shell hid a soft, gooey centre, if cooked right. A centre, Greg wanted to dunk right into and take a big old taste of that lovely gooeyness. He’d witnessed what Aaden was capable of, sort of. The stuff with Joel and the torment he’d caused both Joe and Stuart had proven what lengths Aaden would go to, to help a friend.

  Greg heaved a heavy sigh at thoughts of what Aaden probably had endured in the army. That he’d only hinted at. There was something more Aaden was holding back. Greg’s intuition had hummed to life when Aaden had talked about some of his missions briefly. But when he’d probed for more answers, Aaden had shut up tighter than a clam.

  Washing himself, he let the evening conversations run through his mind.

  Greg checked as he got out of the shower that the fake tan had faded. He gave a loud sigh of relief as he trotted naked back into the bedroom, drying himself before dressing in his grey brushed cotton PJs.

  Settling himself under the navy duvet, he pulled the covers up. He grabbed the remote off the bedside cabinet along with his phone. He switched on the telly at the end of his bed, on the far wall. Relaxing back, he rearranged his pillows. Greg shifted sideways, grabbing his phone when he eyed the pants he’d left on the chair. His desire from earlier pulsed between his thighs, reigniting. He smirked at the phone as he typed out a text. The temptation to take a picture had him wiggling, his cock loving the idea of being encased in the silk with no barrier.

  Greg groaned, sending the text quickly before he changed his mind. He left his phone on the bed, trying to calculate how long it would take for Aaden to get home and see the text. As he snuggled deeper under the duvet, his eyes drifted shut as the news droned on in the background. He never heard Aaden’s ringtone as he rolled over, hugging his pillow. His mind already lost in dreams of battling Vikings.

  Aaden

  Aaden hollered up the stairs to Max, “Hey, where the hell are you? I want a quick word before Greg gets here.”

  His elusive cat had been hiding out all day while he’d worked like a Trojan. Though he had to admit it was worth it. The floors in the lounge and backroom glowed with life now they were sanded and sealed with varnish. That just left the hall, the stairs, and the upstairs spare bedrooms, which he had on his list for tomorrow.

  His back protested loudly as he bent to collect the remaining sander pads and tidy them away under the stairs.

  “Bloody, buggering hell.” His loud growl echoed off the empty hall walls as he limped towards the stairs.

  “You called.” Max’s snigger filled his head as a white head popped through the varnished banisters, peering down at him.

  Aaden ignored Max’s feline grin as he hobbled up the stairs, dragging his weary bones towards the bathroom with thoughts of a long, hot bath filling him with longing. He hankered to work out some of the kinks he’d gotten bending over the stupid sander, then on his hands and knees varnishing the floorboards.

  Limping into the bathroom with Max on his heels, Aaden tu
rned on the bath taps. Steam filled the room. Aaden moved to pick a bottle of Breathe, Lush bath soak, pouring some into the boiling water. The masculine scent of musk filled the steamy room. Breathing deep, Aaden let the aroma relax him as he stripped, adding some cold water to the bath before climbing in.

  “Arrghhhhhhhhhh.”

  His heartfelt rumble as he sank deep into the water the only sound as he settled his head on the bath pillow, shutting out the bright spotlights that he now wished he’d dimmed before getting in the bath. “It’s such a pity you can’t do tricks and turn the lights down for me, Max.”

  “Piss off, Aaden. I’m not a performing monkey, you know. I’m a bloody ancient cat and a king at that.”

  Max’s hissed reply had Aaden struggle not to laugh out loud at his outraged tone.

  “Okay, I’m sorry, but it would have been nice if you could have helped out, seeing as I have done all the hard work on our new home, while you have played hide and seek all day.” Aaden caught movement as he opened his eyes when Max growled.

  “What are you growling at?” Aaden rolled his eyes heavenward when Max gave him a “fuck you” stare.

  “Hey, I’m just telling it how it is. Anyway, stop sidetracking me. I had a thought earlier, and I’m not totally convinced it’s why you have been avoiding me. You mentioned the other day about how everything happened here, but with all the stuff going on it slipped my mind…”

  Aaden spluttered as Max interrupted.

  “You mean when Greg was all naked and angry. Is that when it slipped your mind? Or was it when you were getting ready for your date and Brad helped you pick out your clothes like a couple of giggling school girls. Or could it have been when you came home last night and all but ran for the bedroom to have a wank. Hmm…”

  Aaden roared, “Enough, you little arsehole.” The heat crept up his neck. He was aware it was more to do with his embarrassment than the water temperature.

  He grumbled as he eyed Max’s unblinking stare as he sat next to the bath in his line of sight, completely unrepentant. The urge to give him the finger had his hand curling into a fist to stop his childish behaviour. He forced himself to relax and ask the questions that had been plaguing him.

  “Because this island is where it all began, does that mean it has to finish here? I have been thinking about the fact that you never got to release Magnus, not once.” Aaden paused, waiting for Max to confirm his thought. The slight nod had him going on. “So, do you think that Greg and I need to do something to fix what happened? I find it strange how you never wondered why Magnus was never released before. Don’t you find it odd? From what you said on Sunday, it was like you’d had something blocking you from considering how you could make amends when you only released one soul instead of both. And now my dreams have changed, whereas before they were always violent—well, except when I was a teenager—now they’re back to what they were when they started, all hot and steamy. Christ alive, Max. They could burn the skin right off your body, no pun intended.”

  Aaden scrutinised Max, not sure what he was searching for, but the sting he felt at his betrayal still lingered. The doubt sat heavy in his chest as he tried to explain the difference in the dreams.

  “I’m thinking the fates or whoever it is, is trying to make me feel the emotions Óláfr felt. That somehow they will free you from the burden if we can fix what was damaged by Óláfr’s and your actions? The fact we are back here tells me that there is more to this than meets the eye. And that it’s not just your role as soul bearer or Greg and I being soulmates. Call me a pessimist, but I think there is more to this than even you know, Max.”

  Aaden trailed off when Max whined and rolled his fat body down on to the tiled floor, resting his large head on his paws, a thoughtful expression marring his brow.

  “No one is speaking to me. I can’t get an answer from Morgana or any of the others. Even Princess’s mother has gone silent. And I can tell you I do not like it one little bit. The funny thing is I would have given anything for a bit of peace and quiet, and now all I want is the noise. How bloody ridiculous is that.” Max’s loud exhale as he slumped back down after his little rant had Aaden clamp his lips tight to stop the grin from appearing, knowing that it would only piss Max off more.

  “Then we need to figure out what to do next. I had a thought about taking you to wherever you lived with Óláfr, see if that triggers anything. What do you think?”

  Max’s unamused gaze pierced his when the humour he couldn’t seem to hide surfaced.

  “Peel, it’s Peel. I teleported using my knowledge of the island’s landscape. The sign read Peel. It’s not far from here. We can try. I’m up for anything that fixes things. Not that I’m utterly convinced things can be fixed. I have a horrible feeling about all of this.” The sadness in Max’s voice had Aaden lean out of the bath. Dripping water, he stroked down Max’s soft fur.

  “What the hell, Aaden!” Aaden watched as Max scuttled back, shaking out his fur, dislodging the water droplets. His eyes threatening retribution as he stalked out the door, using one of Princess’s “kiss my arse” moves.

  Aaden leant back laughing. He shouted after his retreating backside. “She is rubbing off on you, my friend. You need to be careful, or she’ll have you just where she wants you.” The resounding screeching howl had tears leaking out of Aaden’s eyes and his sides aching as he washed.

  Finishing off, he rinsed and got out of the bath. His thoughts travelled a hundred miles an hour, and he tried to figure out how the puzzle pieces fitted as he dried and got dressed.

  Aaden leapt down the last few stairs, his mind now preoccupied with where Greg and he were going to sit and eat when he looked at the empty rooms and the rickety couple of chairs. His backside reminded him they weren’t the most comfortable things in the world. The sound of the bell had him grinning. As he checked his watch, his cheeks stretched tighter with pleasure at how early Greg was.

  He rushed to open the door.

  He stood stock-still with his hand frozen on the open door and his lips flapping, stunned.

  “Hey, big bro. You gonna let my freezing arse get out of this wind, or are you just going to keep gawping at me till I get pneumonia? Cause green snot is so not my colour.” His tinkling laughter floated on the night breeze, forcing Aaden to focus.

  “You never said you were coming today. The last text you sent me said Friday. If not then, it would be Saturday before you would get here.” His accusation had Nick instantly stiffening. Realising too late how put out he sounded, Aaden tried to backtrack. “I haven’t had a chance to get your room ready, the floors need sanding, and the beds don’t arrive until Friday morning…”

  The exasperated sigh Nick gave him as he pushed past had him shutting up.

  “I can share with you.”

  His words and the slight shrug of his shoulders as he passed had Aaden wanting to groan as his plans got blown to smithereens. Nick carried on, oblivious to the fact he’d just cock-blocked him.

  “It will be like old times when we shared a bedroom. You’d better not be a snorer. Otherwise you’re going to be relegated to whatever you were using before you got a bed. And knowing you, it will probably be some sort of torture chamber device, and I ain’t sleeping on whatever that was.”

  Nick’s musical voice died off as he walked down the hall and into the back of the house, exploring.

  Aaden knew what was coming before he’d even closed the door. He lifted Nick’s bags into the hall. He followed him into the kitchen, bracing himself.

  “What the fuck, man. I knew there was an ulterior motive for asking me to visit. You bastard, you could have asked me.”

  Aaden sighed, rolling his shoulders, feeling as if he was about to step into the ring with Mohammad Ali. It looked like it was going to be an epic fight if Nick’s angry holler, clenched thrusting jaw, and mutinous face was anything to go by.

  Where had the funny, smiling, happy-go-lucky boy gone?

  Aaden sighed, approaching Nick wit
h caution, not sure if he would try and lamp him one. No matter how small he was, Nick always thought he could better Aaden. The fact he’d failed every time didn’t seem to stop him from trying.

  Hell, I’d give him ten out of ten for effort.

  “Listen, I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to ask over the phone. I thought it would be better in person.” Aaden gave him his most winning smile as Nick perched his light jean-clad backside against the small ledge by the patio door, crossing his arms in defiance. The darkness reflecting behind him through the windows haloed his natural white-blond hair. The length, much longer than when he had last seen him, covered the collar of his dark denim jacket that hugged his small, muscular frame. His bright blue eyes glowered, pinning him in place.

  “You can stop that shit. It didn’t work when you were fourteen, and it won’t work now. I was never taken in by that pretend guile. That shit only worked on Mum.” His pale brow drew up, notching the scowl from pissed off to raging mad in one fell swoop.

  Aaden raised his hands, warding Nick off. “Okay, I should have asked first, but I did want to see you. It has been far too long, and I needed to talk to you about something.” His words had the scowl diminish slightly as Nick arched one brow, encouraging him to carry on.

  The loud knocking on the door had him cursing. “Shit, that is Greg. Just give me a minute okay, and whatever you do, don’t fuck this up for me with your snide comments.” Aaden issued the warning when he saw the light of understanding dawn in Nick’s eyes.

  “Well, well, well, it would seem that someone has finally caught your attention enough for you to stay put for more than two minutes. He must be some man, big bro.”

  Nick’s hollered response as Aaden rushed out of the room had his feet falter for a second before he carried on, cursing under his breath. They’d never really talked about his sexuality. Though his family knew he was gay, it just wasn’t something he liked to get into. Finding out you’re gay at fourteen had been superseded by Max, and at the time, nothing had competed.