by J P Sayle
The urge to scream again came back. Only this time it came out in a strangled whisper as she thanked Gill and hobbled towards the lifts as fast as her legs would allow. Gill’s shouted offer of assistance made her cheeks burn with humiliation. Forcing her shoulders back and ignoring the agony in her feet, she walked as normally as possible to the lifts.
Gingerly stepping inside when the doors opened, Christina sagged against the mirrored wall when the doors slid closed. She was never more grateful that the day was over, until the thought hit she’d have to go back tomorrow. “Oh dear lordie! Why did I think Brody’s suggestion of paying off my debt this way would be fun?” Her question rang in the silent lift as it ascended. The mockery of the situation was not lost on her as the doors opened. She managed to get back to her room before the tears fell.
Nick
Nick silently seethed hearing Brody’s laughter through the wall separating their bedrooms. The flirty tone came through loud and clear. And was something Nick had never heard before. His hands racked through his mussed-up hair when questions buzzed around his head like angry flies attacking a dead carcass.
Who is he flirting with?
Was it Luke?
Had he decided that Luke might be a better bet than him after all?
Would Brody’s past attraction to physically bigger men make him forget our soulmate connection?
Each question turned his vision a deeper ugly shade of green. The jealousy ate at his confidence like a hungry baby attacking their first meal. Unable to sit still, he paced back and forth, listening to the timbre of Brody’s voice rise and fall. His eyes narrowed on the wall, willing it to disappear so he could find out who Brody was talking to.
Nick snarled at himself as he pressed his ear against the wall. The cold surface made him acknowledge what a dick he was being. No. Brody was the dick, being all flirty on the phone with who the fuck knew.
Throwing up his arms, Nick let out a string of curses, and stomping back to the bed, he flopped onto his belly.
This will not fucking do!
Was Brody playing me for a fool when he’d told me he loved me?
He buried his head in the pillow, willing his mind to think past the jealousy that was consuming him whole.
He’d not come this far with Brody to back down now and let some arsehole take what belonged to him. His jaw throbbed at how much running and chasing he’d been doing over the last few weeks. He might have run from a fight in the past, but sod that for a lark. He wasn’t gonna do that now. No. We are bloody soulmates, for God’s sake, and Brody was just going to have to accept his fate.
He belongs to me and no one else.
Feeling resolute, Nick rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. A big arse grin spread across his face as his mind worked on a plan to draw Brody’s attention right back where it should be: on him. Nick’s expression turned contemplative. Brody’s reaction to me in little more than scraps of lace, now that could work to my advantage.
As the idea took shape, Nick jumped up off the bed and headed straight for the wardrobe. Bemoaning the lack of choice while thinking about what he had at his house, he rifled through the full drawer. His brows pinched together with the urge to complain out loud. His hands were already sorting and discarding the pieces he’d bought with him, and the new items he’d purchased while living with Aaden.
His mouth twisted seeing how much he’d bought in the few short weeks he’d been at Aaden’s. A pink hue crept up his neck at his very obvious fixation now it was displayed in a colourful array of silks and satins spilling out of the dresser.
He eyed the overflowing drawer. He’d been around nine when he’d had his first secret encounter with a stolen a pair of his mother’s silky knickers. He chewed his lip and stroked the silk pants he held, trying to recall what made him want to try a pair on. He shrugged. His hazy memories gave him no clue, but it did summon up the feel of the soft glossy material gliding over his naked body. Yeah, he’d never forget that. Hell, he was reminded daily when he pulled on a pair of his much-loved manties. That feeling never grew old. If anything, he could tell his fascination had developed into more of an obsession as he eyed the drawer.
He stilled.
As he realised his fascination started way before Christina dropped into his life, he inhaled and exhaled loudly. Shit. Not something she could be blamed for, Shock horror!
No, that part of him had always been there, inside, waiting to emerge. Unfortunately she’d figured it out and used it against him, giving her the perfect opportunity to mess with his childish head. For her part, she treated his deep-seated wants like a new seedling in a garden. She’d fed and watered his thoughts as she would tend flowers, allowing them to flourish and grow. The roots of his needs had thrived deep into his soul under her ministrations, leaving him little defence.
He gave a frustrated sigh at how naïve he’d been, so willing to go along with the thoughts she planted indiscriminately into his mind. Her secrets and lies, his whole childhood was riddled with them. She’d tormented him with the idea he was secretly trapped inside the wrong body when he didn’t know any better. His childish mind had been unsure why he felt the need to wear feminine underwear. He’d worried for years about being stuck in a body that wasn’t meant for him. It turned his adolescent years into a minefield of misunderstandings. Any time he managed to get on solid ground, Christina would pop back and lob her mini-explosions into his mind and knock him right back on to shaky ground.
Nick stared unseeing into the open drawer, thinking of the one person who’d saved his sorry arse from doing something stupid: the unassuming Mr Connor Mathews.
Nick needed a place to hide out and regroup after his encounter on the way to school with a certain frustrated witch. So he headed to the one place he knew on school grounds. Going to the back of the school building, he checked over his shoulder to see if the coast was clear. Seeing no one watching him, he climbed up the old fire escape leading to the roof. He hastened his pace, scampering over the top of the wall when the rusty old steps creaked and groaned. He breathed a sigh of relief when his feet hit the filthy rooftop and he was hidden from sight.
Sweat coated his face, his pale blue short-sleeved shirt stuck to his skin along with his hideous polyester trousers. It was only eight o’clock, and yet it was hotter than a witch’s tit. He tugged at his school tie, dragging it down as he walked to the ledge overlooking the edges of the Dartmouth forest that bordered his home.
He chewed his thumb, thinking there were only a couple of days of school left before the summer holidays. He shrugged off the worry of his mum getting on his case for wrecking another pair of trousers and sat.
He plonked his head on his hands, blowing his fringe out of his eyes. The vivid blue sky did nothing to lift the darkness sitting inside him as he stared with dread at the forest. A forest he was growing to hate more and more, knowing what lived in it.
Nick thrust his grubby fist inside his mouth, trying to stop the choked sob from escaping. He was fourteen. Weren’t these supposed to be the best years of my life? Wasn’t that what Aaden and his mum kept telling him? He really wanted to be the same as everyone else. A little voice whispered in his ear, “You’re not and you know it.”
His lips trembled at the sound of her laughter when he struggled to come to grips with the thoughts of what it would be like to possess a different body.
A female body.
He groaned when the idea made him feel as if he was going crazy. Unfortunately the thought wasn’t new. He felt its weight pushing at his subconscious as if it was trying to materialise and transform into a reality.
He was sure a certain miss witchy poo, wasn’t helping now that she’d got her long talons into him. It seemed every time she appeared the thought would get stronger and linger longer. It was almost as if the thought had a life of its own. And that sucked, because he really didn’t know if he wanted it to have a life.
He scowled at the leafy green trees. He knew the bi
tch was in there watching and waiting for him to return so she could have another go at him. He’d lost count of how many times she’d tried, talking about his feelings as if they were her own and making him question everything about himself.
He sunk deeper into the dark place, the part of him that he hid all his dirty secrets away from the world, with one exception: Christina. He was pulled from his gloomy thoughts when a creaking caught his attention. Nick glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes widened in surprise at seeing Mr Mathews’s fair head pop up a second before his large frame came into view.
He scrambled to his feet, his heart pounding out of his chest as he searched for a place to hide.
“You’re all right, kid. I won’t snitch on you.” The guy’s meaty hands rose up as he spoke softly.
Nick thought he looked like he was trying to stop a horse spooking. Unsure what to do, he hovered by the ledge.
“For pity’s sake, sit. You’re making me nervous standing that close to the edge. I only came up here to get a minutes peace before I have to start work.”
The soft lilt of his voice helped ease some of the urgent need to run away. Nick obeyed, sitting back down warily.
For the most part, he tried to pay no attention to Mr Mathews, but it wasn’t easy. The guy stood around six foot four or five. His lanky, athletic body always made Nick wonder why he hadn’t taken up sports, like maybe basketball or something. The guy’s legs were the length of him—he was sure—and defined with more muscles than you could poke a stick at. Not that he’d looked too closely. Okay, maybe he had a little, but in his defence, he was a bit of a nerdy dreamboat. The messy fair hair and chiselled jaw, combined with his tweed jacket and corduroy trousers, that seemed to be his work uniform, gave him the appearance of an absent-minded professor. But his sexy dark almond eyes told him something different. Nick saw an inner strength and quiet intelligence that missed nothing and made him wonder if Mr Mathews had caught him coming up here and followed him.
Minutes dragged past, making Nick’s stomach bounce much like his feet were doing while he fought to hold his tongue. What was it about the guy that had him jonesing to spill his guts?
His fingers twisted in his lap as words poured out of his mouth against his will. “Do you believe in stuff… Like stuff you see on the telly, you know, the X-files?” Nick chewed his lips, his face flushing with heat. He was mortified he’d asked the stupid question when he heard a slow indrawn breath come from Mr Mathews.
He cast a quick sideways glance under his lashes at Mr Mathews, not sure what he was expecting to see. He turned to look directly at the teacher when instead of incredulity, he found a contemplative expression.
Before he could decide what to do, Mr Mathews spoke kindly.
“There is more to heaven and earth, Nick, than any one of us can see, and I for one believe we should have an open mind to all of it.” He paused, offering an encouraging smile. “Does that answer your question?”
The sound of a door opening in the hall pulled Nick’s head out of the past. He blinked slowly, and his gaze landed on the manties he held clutched in his hand. Swallowing the bitter taste his past left in his mouth, he fidgeted on the spot, feeling a little out of sorts.
Nick deliberated if calling Connor was what he should have done weeks ago. That maybe his head was trying to tell him something. That day so long ago had cemented the beginning of a friendship. A friendship, that at the time would have caused all kinds of shit for Connor. Because really, who made friends with a fourteen-year-old boy who you taught English to.
Yet somehow, the quiet teacher managed to get under his defences and help him sort his head out. It was only years later Nick learnt about his degree in psychology. Not that that would have made a difference. Connor was more open-minded than most, and that had helped him talk through the stuff in his head. Though Nick had given a very abbreviated version about Christina.
He made a mental note to give Connor a ring later. Feeling a little better for the decision, Nick inhaled and exhaled slowly, bringing his attention back to the open drawer. Laying down the pair of pants he’d held, his eyes caught on a pretty pink lace crop top.
Twinkling humour lit his face when he surveyed the contents of the drawer. He was embarrassed to admit he could probably fill a shop with what he owned here and at home. Made-to-measure lace body stockings, satin vest tops, stockings and suspender belts, mixed with his beloved manties.
An excited blush crept up his neck at the dilemma of what to choose to drive Brody to distraction. He pulled out a pair of pink frilly lace and fine silk manties and the matching top that had caught his eye and laid the set on the bed, considering what he needed to put over them that didn’t hide them completely.
He dressed, enjoying the soft scrape of silk sliding over his bare skin. Cerulean eyes narrowed on the mirror as he stood in the tiny scraps of silk and lace. He twisted around to see the material cupping his arse cheeks.
He gave low groan of approval, and he straightened his spine. He always got a confidence boost dressing in this way. Well, he did once he’d accepted this was a fundamental part of who he was. And yeah, some of his boyfriends in the beginning ran a mile when they figured out it wasn’t some sort of passing fancy. Which had made him reluctant to show the extent of his kink since then.
His lower lip puffed up as he chewed mercilessly.
Being someone’s soulmate, that has to mean they’d accept all of me, right?
Nick didn’t like the fluttery waves of nerves that coursed through his body at the thought of Brody falling short of his expectation. He felt an edge of desperation as his hands balled at his sides at the very idea of Brody rejecting him.
He muttered under his breath, “Stop that right now. You have nothing to worry about. I mean it. Stop it.” He willed his head to behave. Brody seemed genuinely interested, especially if Nick took into account how aroused Brody had got, even when he’d puked his guts up. So that had to mean something. His head derailed just thinking about Brody’s erection jutting proudly towards him. Wetting his lips, Nick sucked in a much-needed breath.
Seeing the effects his thoughts were having, Nick cursed. The glossy fabric stretched obscenely as his cock attempted to escape the confines of the silk. His hands lowered, and his fingers curled around his thickening shaft, slowly pumping his cock through the material. Nick revelled in the slide of silk against his hard length. A low moan left his parted lips when he increased the pace of his hand. The urge to let go and come after only a few strokes left him trembling.
He forced his hand to let go as his eyes were drawn to the wanton sight he made in the mirror. Desire-laden eyes, pink puffy lips, a thin sheen of sweat glistened off his naked torso, and his manties were drenched in pre-come. His lips curled up in a sexy sneer. Brody was going to eat his own tongue when he saw him like this, but only after he’d made him beg for mercy first.
His sole purpose now was to make Brody sweat. Nick strolled into the kitchen a few minutes later. He watched him fiddle with the cutlery, his gaze fixed anywhere but on Nick.
Oh no, that won’t do.
Nick took his time, swinging his hips seductively when he passed Brody on his way to the fridge. He swallowed a chuckle when he heard a tiny moan come from Brody’s direction. Opening the fridge door, Nick stretched up, allowing his top ride up to reveal his creamy smooth skin and the top of his pink manties.
He glanced over his shoulder, giving Brody a mischievous smile. Innuendo dripping from every word, he asked, “Any takers?” His hand hovered over the selection of cans in the fridge. His eyelashes fluttered down to hide the triumph at Brody’s glazed expression.
He hid a chuckle when Brody seemed to struggle to get his mouth to work and shook his head instead.
Nick took what Aaden asked for out of the fridge, plonking it down on the side next to him. Hips swaying, he walked back to the centre island and sat down next to Brody, offering him a big, toothy grin.
He’d judged the timing to perfe
ction for Greg coming home. He wasn’t at all surprised when Aaden confirmed dinner was nearly ready, after he’d asked using his sexiest voice.
Nick ignored the mystified look Aaden threw at him. Instead he sat back, making sure that his jeans slipped a little further down.
Greg’s loud entrance and storming into the kitchen sidetracked Nick from his game.
He watched Greg stalk angrily around the kitchen, bellowing loud enough for the other houses in the cul-de-sac to hear. The outburst had them all crying with laughter. Nick forgot his plans at the hilarity Greg caused. He gasped and giggled, laying his hand on Brody’s forearm to steady himself. He found his gaze locked with Brody’s and watched green turn to molten silver. The level of intensity between them held him captive. Nick wallowed in the passion. It affirmed how right he was to fight for what there was between them, for what they could have together.
They may have declared their true feeling of love for each other.
But to what end?
Sitting there in Aaden’s kitchen, he could feel the depth of emotion swirling around them. In that moment, Nick truly believed Brody’s feeling were as real as his own.
So what is stopping us from taking the final step?
Brody
With the dinner finished, Brody leant back against the high-backed kitchen stool, sipping the bold red wine had Aaden poured for him before he’d sat to eat. He listened with half an ear to Greg filling them in on each debacle Christina instigated during her first day on the job. It was only then that it registered how relaxed he felt. He did a quick scan of his body, and his lips rose as he found the usual work-related tension in the top of his back and shoulders wasn’t there.