by J P Sayle
“I’ve told you it’s real, and still you don’t listen to sense. Aren’t you a teacher? Haven’t you learnt anything from the history books?” Morgana hissed inside his head.
Clutching at his ears, he rose and searched the room for the pesky cat. He’d been avoiding her since Friday night. Coming up empty, he glanced back at Nick. His bemused expression was not helping the situation, and he forgot himself. “I can hear the bloody cat talking in my head, and I know it sounds crazy.” Nick’s laughter had him pause, and he huffed as he failed to see the humour in the situation. “It’s not funny. I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation right now. Witches, talking cats, and god knows what else. Who could dream up this nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense,” said Nick and Morgana in unison.
Connor held his hands over his ears. “Please stop talking.”
“You asked, and now you’re telling me to shut up,” Nick growled, his face scrunched in an angry scowl.
“I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to Morgana,” Connor ground out through clenched teeth. His jaw thrust forward, and he pointed at Nick. “Between you and her, I don’t know who I want to strangle more. Can you tell me I’m not going mad and explain to me how I ended up in this situation?”
Nick’s hands rose. “I don’t know how you ended up in this situation because I have no clue how the fates decide who gets a soul mate and who doesn’t.”
Connor heard nothing else after the word soul mate passed Nick’s lips. Soul mates, he had a soul mate? Well, fuck. What about the feelings I have for Ellie? The second the question popped into his head, it dawned equally fast why he had feelings for Ellie. Ellie’s my soul mate.
A smile spread across his face till his cheeks ached.
“You just figured out who your soul mate is, right?”
Glee filled Nick’s voice, ringing out in every word, but Connor couldn’t find it in himself to care. An itch at the base of his skull had him twist his head towards the kitchen doorway. Morgana sat there with a smug expression on her feline face.
“Happy now?” she asked.
Connor grunted at her and looked back at Nick. “Start talking and explain everything to me and don’t miss anything out.”
Connor stared at Nick, quite sure his eyes were now on stalks. His explanation about what Christina had done to him and Brody to prevent them from being together left his heart aching and his temper boiling. He kept his tongue in check and didn’t interrupt Nick.
Connor moved his balled hands into his lap when Nick eyed him with worry.
“The weird thing is, we all have soul mates, Brad, Joe, Greg, and me. Greg and Aaden are different, though. Their connection happened in the thirteenth century. Max, the king of the guardian cats, interfered with his charge, King Olaf. That ended with King Olaf killing his soul mate and resulted in Max then having to carry both souls until they could be reconnected in a future life. It just took a hellishly long time to happen.”
Connor’s head was exploding with each new bit of information Nick imparted. He held up his hand, halting Nick. “Holy crap, stop a second. You’re telling me that Aaden’s soul is connected to King Olaf the Black?”
The nod that Nick gave him was too much. His chair scraped over the tiled floor as he flung it back, getting up. His shoulders tensed and bunched under the strain of trying to keep still as he stared at Nick in disbelief. His knowledge of history was good, but this information hacked at the foundation of what he’d learnt about a ruthless Viking who had no regard for anyone, including his traitorous family.
“This is mind-boggling. How can you sit there and calmly explain this like it’s nothing unusual?” Connor demanded.
“Because I’ve had months and years to adapt to the strangeness of it all. Listen, let it sit and give yourself a break. Don’t try to think about it too hard, or it will mess with your head—”
“You don’t think this is already messing with my head?” he said, speaking over the top of Nick. “My head is a bloody mess. The only good thing about all this is that Ellie is mine, and it takes away all the hassle of trying to figure out the dating cr—“ Nick’s sputtering and howls of laughter stopped him in his tracks.
“You think this will take away all the crap of dating? You are too funny. It makes it ten times worse. You wait and see.”
Connor’s mouth pinched into a tight line as his stomach turned upside down.
When Nick left later that afternoon after having gone through all that had happened with all the men, and how they’d all needed to combat some issue before finding their happiness, Connor’s mood hit an all-time low.
Not sure what to do, he trailed through his home, looking for something to distract him from his woes.
“Don’t listen to Nick. You have me, and we can overcome all those silly little issues humans tend to throw at each other while dating,” Morgana stated, interrupting his wallowing.
With a sweeping glance, he found Morgana perched on the arm of his sofa, staring at him. Her jewelled eyes held his as if demanding he deny it.
When he plonked himself down on the sofa next to her, she jumped into his lap and curled into a ball. He burrowed his hand into her soft fur, the warmth and silky texture soothing his ragged nerves. “How many times have you done this before?”
The loud purrs that had rumbled up her chest at his touch abruptly stopped. His brow quirked up when he glanced at her. Her whiskers twitched, and her nose wrinkled. A sense of unease crept up his neck, and the hairs on his arms rose.
His eyes narrowed on Morgana. “You have done this before?”
Ellie
A hum of pleasure rose in the back of Ellie’s throat at how the office was coming together. The office furniture had arrived the day before. The smell of fresh paint filled the room, and he moved to the windows to open them. Giving the walls a critical eye, he was pleased to note they looked great.
While he roamed the offices, ticking off all the completed jobs on the list he held, he tried not to panic at how much was still left to be done. He’d created the list to keep on top of all the things that needed to be done before the official opening for business on Monday, but it just kept growing.
There were only three days to go, and his throat burned with the amount of Pepsi he’d drunk to keep himself fueled. He was putting in some seriously long hours to get everything ready.
The deadline had been his idea when he took stock of how many contracts they’d already acquired. Aaden and Brody spent most of the time moaning at him, but he didn’t care. He was like a pig in shit, wallowing in his happy place. This was his domain, and he wanted it to be perfect. It also stopped him from thinking about a certain someone and wondering why he’d not heard anything from him.
On Saturday, when he’d met with Gemma, it had all poured out: his relationship with Seb, that he liked having a Daddy, and what had happened with Connor, and the slip-up. She’d assured him Connor would be a fool not to want him, and at the time he’d believed her. But now, five days later, with no word from Connor or even a message via Nick or Brody, he was doubting himself.
Oh, he knew that he could attract men. He wasn’t blind to his looks. That, however, did not mean he could have whoever he wanted. His relationship with Seb was an albatross hanging around his neck. His fingers moved to his throat as if seeking to remove the weight that hung there.
The big sigh he let rip caught Brody’s attention, and his head fired around from the table he was trying to assemble. “What’s up with you?”
How to answer? He chewed his lower lip between his teeth and gave Brody a shrug. “Nothing really. I was working through the list. There is still a lot left to do before we open on Monday,” he said, hoping that would satisfy Brody’s curiosity.
“Then stop standing there looking like a kicked puppy and do something so you can keep ticking things off your list.” Brody’s cheeky grin took the sting out of his words.
“Yeah, yeah.” Not giving Brody a chance t
o say anything else, Ellie flounced off towards the kitchen and went to empty all the boxes of supplies he’d ordered.
Sweaty and aching, Ellie opened his front door, stepped inside, and switched on the hall light. He heard Brody’s car reverse out the drive as he shut the door and leant against it. He wearily eyed the stairs leading up to his bedroom. “Where is a knight in shining armour when you needed one,” he asked the empty hall.
When a knock at the door sounded no more than a second later, a scream rose, closing off his airway. Jerking away on shaking legs, he twisted around and eyed the door. Who would be calling at—he checked his wrist—nine thirty at night?
When a second impatient knock sounded against the wood, he rolled his eyes and stepped closer to the door. His hand hesitated when his head flashed with an image of Seb standing on the other side of the door. His mouth drier than the Sahara, he croaked out, “Who’s there?”
“Ellie, it’s Connor… are you going to open the door?”
A thundering pulse made his hands tremble as they lifted to do as Connor bid. He stepped back a fraction when Connor moved towards him, his face alight with something Ellie couldn’t decipher. Ellie’s Adam’s apple bobbed.
“Can I come in?” Connor asked hesitantly, his hands thrust into the thick padded jacket he wore.
Is he nervous? Ellie got the sense that Connor was, and somehow, that eased his anxiety.
“Yeah, come in, though I don’t know what kind of host I’ll be. I’m knackered and was wishing for a knight in shining armour to carry me upstairs, give me a shower, and put me to bed.” He bit his lip as his mouth ran away from him.
Connor’s almond eyes darkened, and his nostrils flared right as his lips parted in a small groan.
Does he want to do all those things for me? Ellie’s body responded to the graphic images his mind painted of Connor carrying him upstairs, stripping him, and washing the sweat and grime of the day away before tucking him into bed. The whimper that escaped before he could think better of it had Connor’s gaze pinning him in place.
“I think you and I need to have a conversation about what this is that’s happening between us.”
The arrogant way Connor spoke got Ellie’s back up. His nose wrinkled in distaste, his hands went to his hips, and his chin jutted out. “I’ll decide what I want to talk about, and there is nothing between us.” The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, but it was too late to take it back. He refused to back down, and he kept his eyes locked with Connor’s. His hands gripped the material of his trousers to keep them from giving away how much it cost him to keep his eyes from lowering.
The standoff seemed to last forever. Then Connor stepped closer. The air got trapped in Ellie’s chest at the intent written over Connor’s face. Gentle hands cupped his cheeks, and he felt Connor’s breath touch his lips when his face stopped inches from his.
Before Ellie could think about it, his tongue came out to lick at his lips. He sucked in a deep breath and willed his heart to slow before he collapsed.
“You and I need to talk, Ellie. And I’m not taking no for an answer. We can do it now, or you can tell me when it would suit to come back and discuss at a later date. But no matter what, we will be having this conversation.”
As his voice lowered to a husky tone and his eyes roamed Ellie’s face greedily, Ellie lurched forward and slammed his lips against Connor’s. What are you doing? his mind screamed at him while his mouth encouraged Connor’s to kiss him back.
He whimpered when Connor remained frozen in place, his mouth unyielding, but then the firm lips under his own softened and took charge. The whimper turned to a moan as Connor’s tongue licked at the seam of his lips and encouraged them to open. Unable to resist, Ellie let Connor sweep his tongue into his mouth. Tasting spices and something uniquely male, he clung on to Connor’s broad shoulders, his feet leaving the floor a second later. Big, warm hands cupped his backside and encouraged him to wrap his legs around Connor’s waist. Without overthinking it, he did and then groaned anew at the hardness now pressed against his arousal. His hips thrust forward, seeking more friction for his needy cock.
His mouth released, Ellie chased Connor’s mouth, desperate for more. The tiredness he felt when he’d arrived home disappeared under the wave of need driving him to distraction. “Please… please, Daddy, don’t stop.” His cheeks paled.
Fuck, he couldn’t blame the alcohol for his slip-up this time. He wiggled in the arms that had slackened at the word Daddy.
The minute his feet hit the floor, he whirled away from Connor and hid his face, not wanting to have to see what Connor was thinking right then. He could only guess, and that twisted his stomach into knots.
“Don’t turn away from me. Please, Ellie. Look at me?”
Connor’s quiet demand had Ellie swing back around, his hands back on his hips. “What?”
The sulky tone got him an arched brow as Connor kept his distance but didn’t release him from his intense stare.
“Do you think calling me Daddy upset me?”
All Ellie could do was stare. “Is he a Daddy?”
“Yes, I am a Daddy,” Connor responded with a smirk.
“Oh my god, I said that out loud. Please kill me now,” Ellie moaned, his hands covering his flaming face.
“Now, why would I kill you when I’d much prefer to put you over my knee and spank you for being a naughty boy and speaking out of turn. Isn’t that what you’d want me to do?” The silky soft voice offered a promise, or was it a threat? Whatever it was, it did little to help with the heat in his face or the now pressing problem in his trousers. He squirmed and peeked through his fingers. Desire and something he couldn’t read lit Connor’s eyes and confirmed he wasn’t joking. An ache spread out from Ellie’s chest until it encompassed his whole body. Was it that easy? Could he have found a new Daddy?
Hesitant to believe it was that simple, he kept his distance, not sure what to do next. He’d only ever been with Seb and had no real dating experience to speak of, so this was a whole new situation for him. Seb had always taken control and not let him have a say in anything they’d done. It appeared Connor was different and wasn’t going to insist without Ellie voicing what he wanted first.
The tiny lines of strain around Connor’s mouth deepened the longer they stood there facing each other, neither saying anything. Ellie’s shoulders sagged. I can do this. I can.
Time stood still as he stepped towards Connor. The slight lip twitches and gleam in his eyes were the only indications Connor was happy Ellie had made a move. He stood in front of Connor and tilted his head back so he could see his face. “We should talk first.” His mouth dried at the thought of trying to explain his past. Not now. I don’t have to do it all at once.
Assuring himself he had this, he took hold of Connor’s hand and led him into the lounge. Switching on the lamps in the dark room, he noticed the chill. “Let me go and put the heating on.” He released Connor’s hand reluctantly, already missing his touch. “Would you like something to drink?”
“A cup of tea if you have some. If not, a glass of water will be fine.”
With a nod, Ellie went to the kitchen and switched the kettle on, his mind awhirl. What would happen now? Would Connor understand about him and Seb?
He wasn’t sure he could bear to see the rejection on Connor’s face if he explained how he’d been homeless and in need of someone to protect him from the streets. Would he judge him for taking Seb’s offer and turning it into something he’d wanted?
The thoughts plagued him while he poured boiling water over the tea bag. Once the tea bag had steeped, he popped his head through the door, “Do you take milk and sugar in your tea?”
“No, I take it black, please.”
Ellie moved to return to the cup on the side. He finished making the tea and then filled a glass with juice, knowing that if he had any more Pepsi, he’d be up all night. He walked back into the lounge and offered Connor the cup. His fingers brushed over Ellie’s, the small
caress tingling up his hand and spreading warmth in its wake.
The urge to stay put and let him continue to touch had Ellie doing the opposite. Talk. We have to talk first.
He moved away and took the seat furthest away. Long forgotten needs that he’d kept buried since walking out of Seb’s home unfurled inside him. His fingers clenched around the glass.
“Where should we start?”
Connor
The indecision that had hounded him all week eased at seeing Ellie. He’d held off from doing so all week. He’d needed to process and figure out if he believed what was happening. He was never normally one to rush anything, though that seemed to have flown out the window lately. The very idea that he’d had a soul mate waiting for him all along left him terrified and excited in equal measures. What if they didn’t fit? What if the fates had got it wrong?
What if his kink was a barrier to making things work out right between them?
“Seriously, you are starting to get on my last nerve. How many wretched times do I have to tell you this is meant and no matter what, Ellie belongs to you. You have to claim him. So for pity’s sake, get on with it,” Morgana huffed in exasperation.
He barely kept himself from jumping, with the voice ringing in his ears as he sat opposite Ellie, trying to keep his face composed. “Will you stop doing that. And you never said you could read my thoughts when we weren’t together. We’ll be talking about this when I get home. Now back off and leave me to figure this out.”
“Then get on with it. Hell, a snail is quicker than you,” was the muttered reply as her voice faded away.
Ellie stared at him with uncertainty, so he gave him a reassuring smile he wasn’t feeling, not one bit. His hands clenched the hot cup, and he took a sip. The tea scolded his tongue and sidetracked him. He swallowed the hot liquid and sorted through where he wanted to start.