by J P Sayle
“Oh, stop it. I don’t have any issues with my scars after Christmas.” Nick winced when Joe and Greg both groaned.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, will you stop that, I still haven’t seen Joe’s attempt at a porn movie.” He gave an accusatory glare at Joe, who just shrugged it off.
“It’s coming,” Joe hissed, then erupted into a fit of giggles at what he’d said, making all the men in the room follow suit.
Nick gripped his sides. The tears rolling down his face were now for a whole different reason. He said a silent prayer of thanks to whoever was responsible for giving him the opportunity to find these men, men who were now his closest friends.
Pulling himself together, he went back to the bed and rifled through the selection of underwear, looking for ones that still had labels on. He whooped when he found several pairs and offered them to Brad, Greg, and Joe.
“Go on, try them. You can’t beat the feel of silk against your skin.” He would have laughed at how eager Joe was if he wasn’t as eager himself to see what they’d look like dressed in his manties.
He’d never admit to how often or how long he spent pursuing the models when he went shopping online. No, that he really didn’t need to share.
He sat on the edge of the bed, chewing his finger when they all stripped down and picked a pair of manties to try. Nick shifted and pushed at his arousal, telling himself it was normal to be aroused with all the naked flesh on show.
He concentrated on fielding their questions, surprised at how many Brad had as he strolled to the wardrobe. Nick thought the soft lemon silk complimented Brad’s pale golden tan that remained from his recent holiday. The white lacy frills flirting with his buttocks didn’t harm either. Looking at Joe, he grinned at his choice of a plain turquoise silk pair. The fit had his eyes narrow in consideration. He squirmed uncomfortably on the bed as he saw the sheen of satin against Joe’s creamy skin.
Nick chewed his lip. “You want them?” A hushed silence followed his question, and he wondered if he’d said the wrong thing until Joe jumped up and down with excitement, shouting “hell yeah.”
Nick looked over at Greg, who nudged Brad out of his way so he could get a better look at himself in the mirror. The bold red silk, edged with lace, also fitted like they were made to measure and gave Greg’s freckled skin an instant appeal that had Nick thinking Aaden would swallow him whole if he caught him dressed like that. No sooner had the thought entered his head when his bedroom door opened and Aaden strolled through the doorway.
“Nic…”
Nick bellowed with laughter at Aaden’s slack jaw hitting the floor. Whatever Aaden was about to say was clearly forgotten at the sight of Greg wearing only a scrap of bold red silk. Greg pivoted towards Aaden, cocking his hip out and giving him a come-hither look. Brad and Joe, on the other hand, dived for their clothes, trying to cover up, which made Nick laugh even harder.
This was the best medicine for his woes. It surely was.
Christina
Christina rolled over onto her back, sinking into the lumpy mattress, and pushed her tangled hair out of her face. She groaned and squinted in the dim light at the bedside clock. Four o’clock.
No way.
As she glanced towards the window, the slither of brightness coming through the partially closed curtains said the clock wasn’t lying to her. She blinked slowly as her brain started to wake up and send her a video montage of what had happened the night before. Or should that be, the early hours of this morning. Not quite sure what time she’d left the Outback and staggered home, alone.
Alone.
Shit, am I alone?
Her eyes squeezed tight, and her breath stalled in her lungs at the picture of a tall, dark-haired man. Blood whooshed in her ears, making it impossible to hear if there was anyone else in the room with her. Too scared to move for a moment, Christina stretched out her hands tentatively across the bed on either side of her. Thankfully he fingers encountered nothing but cold, soft cotton sheets and no naked flesh. Her breath whistled past her dry lips. Too late she realised her mistake. She baulked on the taste of last night’s awful curry. She really needed to brush her teeth
She hesitantly moved to sit up, checking out the room as best she could in the dimness. Seeing no evidence that she’d done something she might regret, she gingerly got up.
“Okay. I got this,” she muttered and scrunched up her nose at the smell of her stale breath. Her stomach heaved. Clamping her lips closed, she breathed through her nose and stood up.
“Arrghhh.”
What the hell did I do last night?
Convinced there wasn’t a part of her that didn’t complain at having to walk, she tried to stretch up, lifting her arms and reaching for the ceiling. Moaning loudly when every muscle rebelled, she held the stretch for a minute. She felt every one of the years she’d lived, and that was saying a lot.
Taking her time, she crept to the bathroom and turned on the light. She rubbed her streaming eyes at the sudden brightness. Bemoaning her situation, she took a couple of steps towards the sink, only for her bladder to wake up and have other ideas. Her legs crossed at the sight of the toilet. The urge to pee was so strong she had to grip her thighs before she could move without wetting herself. Mortified, she crossed the floor in a mere second and plonked her bottom down. Only then she realised she was stark naked.
Startled eyes skimmed down her body. Her stomach sank to the floor in a well of panic. All the worries she’d had about what she’d got up to last night disappeared under a blanket of fear. In a daze, her trembling fingers touched the stain of blood covering her inner thighs. The wet bright redness smearing her fingertips made the situation all the more real.
Oh my God, I’m bleeding to death!
A strangled cry reverberated off the tiled walls. The horror built until she was gasping for air, and unsure what to do, she wailed for Morgana.
“Help me, Morgana, help.”
“Jesus, woman, what is all the hollering about?” Morgana teleported from the king’s chamber at his insistence when they both heard Christina’s panicked wailing for help.
Morgana avoided thinking about how upset the king was. Instead she gave Christina her full attention. She’d worry about the king later.
“Look, oh my God, I’m dying. Look, blood. I’m bleeding.” Christina screeched.
Morgana’s heart stuttered in her chest until she realised what she was looking at and where the blood was coming from. Her whiskers twitched, and humour lit her jewelled eyes as she struggled to answer without making Christina look like a right idiot.
“Christina, you’re menstruating. It’s…”
“I’m what?”
The alarm on her face as she squeaked was too much for Morgana. She roared with laughter.
“What the hell, Morgana. This is no laughing matter. I’m bloody bleeding here, and you’re laughing your arse off at me,” Christina hissed.
She scowled down at the mess, not understanding what menstruating was, but she felt whatever it was, it couldn’t be that serious if Morgana was laughing. Right?
Yanking off strips of toilet roll, she wiped at herself, only to get more alarmed when the tissue became soaked in more blood. A wave of dizziness brought back her fear she was bleeding to death. Her ears buzzed. Not hearing what Morgana was saying, she slumped to the side, resting her shoulder and head against the white-tiled wall. Immediately she regretted it. When she felt the icy cold tiles, a full-body shiver shook her and rattled her teeth.
“Come on, get off the toilet. I’m not having this conversation with you sitting on the loo naked. Use some of the paper towels there on the side, and I’d suggest a big pair of knickers if you have some, to hold them in place.” Morgana barely held it together as she prowled out of the bathroom at Christina’s wide-eyed panic.
How could someone live as long as Christina and not know about how the female body works?
Then it hit her. She was unsure if Christina would now experience things
as if they were the first time, now she was a human. A worried frown creased her brow at the thought of how else a woman could bleed. Morgana climbed onto the unmade bed, sniffing. A pleased growl rumbled up her chest at scenting only Christina. She really did not want to have to deal with a rampaging king if Christina had got up to no good.
At the sound of feet padding across the carpet Morgana looked up from the bed. She was pleased to see that at least Christina wore knickers, even if they were the size of a postage stamp.
Shaking her head, she waited until Christina climbed back into the bed, pulling the covers over her naked breasts. The tangled auburn hair flowing over her bare shoulders and ghostly white face gave her an air of vulnerability Morgana had never seen before. Feeling a little guilty for laughing at her, Morgana explained in full what was happening to her.
“Are you telling me I’m going to have to do this every month?” Morgana rolled her eyes at the horror-stricken question had.
“Christina, you’ve lived for ruddy centuries. How are you only now finding out what a woman’s body does?” Morgana asked in utter bewilderment.
“I might have lived a bloody long time, but I had magic, remember? Why would I be bothered by pesky women’s problems when there was no need? I mean, seriously, Morgana, who the hell would want to be leaking and bleeding all over the place? Don’t I have enough to worry about without that as well? I don’t even understand why a woman needs this menstruation thingy.”
Morgana sucked in a breath, willing herself to remain calm in front of such stupidity.
“How do you think babies are made? The tale of a stork delivering a baby is just that, a tale. It’s all connected, you dumb arse.” Okay, maybe not as calm as I would have liked.
Morgana hissed as she hit the floor.
Christina threw back the duvet and jumped out of bed, uncaring she’d dislodged Morgana. Her arms swung about her body. Her breasts heaved as she stalked across the carpet, swearing and ranting.
“How am I supposed to know this stuff? Hey, tell me. I wasn’t given the fucking idiots guide to being a human. I was thrust into this role unceremoniously, remember, with nothing more than a bag of clothes and some money. I sure as hell never got a shitting guide to help me navigate this strange world.” Building up a full head of steam, Christina stomped her foot and glared down at Morgana. Pointing, she accused, “You could have told me these things before. At least I’d have been prepared.” She slapped her hand over her mouth, standing still. Her eyes narrowed on Morgana.
“Dear God. Do you realise what a disaster this could have been if this had happened when I was out with the girls last night? How would I have explained my lack of knowledge?” Her legs weakened at the very idea of looking ridiculous in front of her new friends. All right, not new friends, but work colleagues and not nice workmates either after what she’d found out last night. But still, that wasn’t the point. She would have hated to look foolish in front of anyone.
She sighed in despair and plonked down on the edge of the bed, cupping her head. Her lips curled up in disgust at the awful squelchy feeling coming from between her legs and how the rough paper towel was rubbing at her sensitive skin.
“I need to know this stuff, Morgana.” Her shoulders hunched. She hated the sound of defeat in her voice. Making sure to look Morgana dead in the eye, she pleaded, “I can’t afford any fuck-ups. I need to fix things for the guys so I can get back in the king’s good graces.”
When Morgana’s whiskers twitched and she nodded her head, Christina felt her shoulders drop from under her ears, back to where they should sit.
“I’ll talk you through your human body, but remember these are generalisations and don’t forget I’m feline, so my info is all second-hand,” Morgana huffed.
Christina settled back on the bed, thinking of questions she may need answering. A little niggle that maybe she should be going to visit Brody and update him before it got too late was pushed to the back of her mind. She shrugged; she could go later. This was far more important as far as she was concerned. Information was the key to how she could adapt to this new life. And sure, in the beginning, it hadn’t been all roses. She wasn’t certain what or when that had changed, but she was kinda enjoying all these new experiences.
She scratched her head at the flashing images flitting through her mind from last night. Colourful lights, loud music, sweet, alcoholic drinks, and hot, sweaty gyrating bodies squeezed up against her. What was not to love about that?
Morgana caught the last of Christina’s thoughts right as the king snarled in her head.
“You make damn sure you dissuade her from any further nights out. Paint the bleakest picture of what happens to the human body. I won’t be held responsible if she does more than dance with a human man.”
Morgana blocked Christina before hissing back, “You did this to her. So stop your whining and remember, you’ve had years to claim her but didn’t. It will be your own fault if she finds a human to mate with.”
Too late to block the angry roar, Morgana’s ears twitched from the noise bouncing around inside her head. Cursing her own stupidity for riling the king, she hoped he didn’t do anything rash. Regaining her composure, Morgana opened herself to Christina, ignoring the disquiet she felt from her link to the king. No, she’d deal with Christina first. Then she’d face the king and hope in the meantime he’d calmed down.
Brody
Brody strode through Martin’s office, disregarding the inquisitive stares he received from several of the staff. He kept his gaze averted when he spotted Christina talking animatedly with Louise in the far corner of the large office. The hum of voices and the sound of computer keys tapping made it impossible to hear what they were discussing. Was it too much to ask that she’d listened to what he’d told her to do last night? He hoped not.
Searching for Martin’s office, Brody struggled to keep a straight face when he saw a look of fright on Greg’s face when he spotted him. That was right before hightailing it through the double doors at the back of the room. Shaking his head, Brody rubbed at his chin. Greg seriously needed to get a grip. This evading shit only made him look guilty of something and caused people to get suspicious. He’d already explained this to Greg, but it looked like he was flapping his lips in vain.
He sighed, rapping his knuckles on the door frame of Martin’s open door.
Martin’s eyes rose from whatever he was reading, acknowledging him with a nod while he continued to talk to whoever was on the phone. He beckoned Brody in.
Brody deliberated on leaving the door open for a second but then closed it behind him. He didn’t want what they were about to discuss to be overheard.
It would appear Christina had come up trumps for them. She might be completely inept at office work if you listened to Greg. She was, however, good at making friends and had the gift of the gab. She’d somehow managed to get an admission from the horse’s mouth. After a few drinks, their saboteur had been more than willing to gloat about what they’d done to Greg.
He knew he should be delighted to have something to work on to resolve Martin and Greg’s issue, yet all he could feel was pissed off. Christina’s timing left a lot to be desired. Turning up late last night, she had yet again scuppered his plans of seducing Nick. It was almost as if she’d conspired with the universe to fuck up his plans.
He shook off his doubts and balled his fists at how quickly Nick had left, going to his bedroom before he could explain. No, instead the little bugger had sulked like a two-year-old and gone upstairs in a huff when Christina arrived. He hadn’t even let her explain why she’d come. No, he’d been too busy throwing a hissy fit and leaving him no choice but to deal with Christina on his own.
No amount of praying she wouldn’t stay long had worked. The hangover she was suffering, though amusing, made it hard work to get her to recall what had been said and by whom. As she complained bitterly the whole time about the evils of alcohol, it took all of Brody’s patience to keep his temper in chec
k, and four hours of his life he’d never get back were wasted. He’d only then noticed it was after midnight when he’d rung for a taxi to take her back to the hotel. Exhausted, he hadn’t felt up to coping with a childish outburst from Nick after dealing with Christina. He’d dragged his weary arse to bed, frustrated and horny as hell.
Thinking things would be better this morning, Brody snorted at his own stupidity. Nick had been frostier than the ground outside. He silently cursed Christina, wondering for the umpteenth time since he’d got out of bed why she couldn’t have just waited until today.
Instead she’d picked his D day. Yesterday, day fourteen, the day that was firmly fixed in his mind’s eye every time he’d gently rebuffed Nick’s advances. But had he got his just rewards for denying himself for fourteen whole fucking days? Two weeks of absolute torture?
No, he bloody well hadn’t.
Brody pretended not to hear the voice at the back of his mind telling him he’d made up the rules for them in the first place. And that he could have easily changed them at any point.
Yeah, he knew fine well he’d done it to himself. But then, there was no accounting for stupidity when he crazily thought at the time he’d be okay with it.
Who the fuck knew Nick would pull out every trick in the book to weaken his resolve?
Not me, that was for sure.
Why hadn’t Aaden warned him that his brother had more focus than a bloody astronaut planning a trip to the fucking moon?
Seriously!
Brody brushed his hair back from his forehead, trying to stop the anger and frustration from rising when it had no place in Martin’s office.
He paced to the window when he realised he’d been standing like a dork in front of the door he closed, staring at it like it held all the answers. He cast a wary glance at Martin, who thankfully was still busy on the phone.
Brody unclenched his fists, doing his best to focus on what he was there to discuss. Though clearly his head had other ideas. It was almost like the old VHS video recorder was stuck on replay. All he could think about was how Christina yet again cock-blocked him and stopped their souls from fully bonding.