The Manx Cat Guardians Boxed Set

by J P Sayle

  Oh crap, this is not good.

  Had Greg heard them talking?

  Shit and double shit.

  They’d only just got on to an even footing yesterday, even with all the talking about a telepathic cat. Heck, when he’d texted Greg early this morning after waking from yet another sex dream about their Vikings, he’d half expected to get no response. He’d been pleasantly shocked when his phone had pinged almost immediately. It seemed Greg wasn’t into playing games and keeping him hanging in the dark like a damn bat in a black cave.

  Nope, so far his red beauty had taken everything in stride. He just hoped he hadn’t fucked that up with his little impersonation of He-Man. Aaden’s hands fidgeted at his side, impatient to go and check on Greg. He glared at the still closed curtain, willing it to open.

  Twenty minutes later, Aaden pulled up outside a quaint terraced house. He watched Greg jump out of his blue Skoda and give him a small lip tilt. He hoped that meant the cold shoulder he’d received after Greg had emerged dressed from the cubicle had finally thawed.

  He could tell Greg was embarrassed by the way he’d all but dragged him out of the building as if it was on fire. It would have been comical if Greg hadn’t been giving him daggers at the same time he’d yanked him unceremoniously down the stairs.

  Aaden rolled back his shoulders as he got out of the van. Towering over Greg’s still form, he offered a tentative smile of apology. “I’m sorry, but she had her mouth all over yours, and that belongs to me. And no one, and I mean no one, should be touching those pretty, puffy lips but me.”

  Aaden bent down, sealing his statement with a light kiss, stopping Greg from interrupting. The coldness of Greg’s mouth had him stepping back before he gave in to the temptation that was his red beauty. He really didn’t want to freeze his arse off or get arrested for indecent exposure.

  “Why did you stop?” Greg’s whine had his grin reappearing.

  “Come on, it’s far too cold out here for more. You could freeze the balls off a brass monkey out here, and you promised me a tour of your home and food. I also brought the rough plans for my kitchen for you to look at.”

  The smile that lit up Greg’s face when he finished speaking had Aaden struggling to catch his breath. The beauty that shone out of his face had him wanting to eat Greg alive. He wanted to taste it, wallow in it, and keep it inside him, forever.

  Aaden moved back, pushing his hands into his pockets, frightened by the intensity of emotions firing through him. His earlier arousal pulsed back to life, and Aaden wanted to claim what he’d spent weeks fantasising about.

  Greg’s head tilt and widening eyes had him trying to mask his thoughts. The last thing he wanted was to scare his red beauty. Tugging his hand from his pocket, he offered his hand.

  “Come on, let’s get out of the cold.” Pleased when his gruff voice sounded reasonably normal, Aaden took Greg’s icy hand in his sweaty palm and walked them toward the house.

  He chanted repeatedly, hoping it would help.

  Keep it together. Come on, keep it together. You got this.

  Max

  Max prowled around their new home, heading back to the bedroom. The unsettling feeling he’d had since Greg had let the cat out of the bag, so to speak, had him on edge. He really felt the other shoe was about to drop. He was also avoiding Princess because he couldn’t quite put his paw on what was wrong. The silence in his head that had lengthened since the little reveal and his come to Odin’s Raven talk with Aaden after Greg had left was deafening.

  “Morgana, Morgana, are you there?” Max waited a beat, hoping she would respond. When the silence continued, he growled, pawing at his velvet bed in frustration.

  “What the heck have I done now? Come on, you arses!”

  Max felt his stomach drop at the utter silence.

  What the heck have I done now!

  His yowl went unanswered as he plonked his head down, burying it in his silky paws. He worried his whiskers, fretting about what else could possibly go wrong.

  Greg

  Greg switched on the hall light, pleased he’d set the heating timer to come on an hour before. The hall felt nice and toasty as he took off his suit jacket, hanging it on the coat rack. He cast a critical eye over the hallway. He was happy the lights gave a nice friendly glow. Taking a deep breath, Greg glanced up at the silent man who stood still in the open doorway.

  He licked his still tingling lips. The heat of the unexpected kiss he’d received in front of everyone had left him astounded. He still couldn’t quite grasp that Aaden hadn’t given two shits about letting people know that he wanted Greg. Not one of his former boyfriends had ever been so blatant, or not that he could remember. And in Vic’s case, he couldn’t even be bothered with more than a quick fuck in the end.

  Aaden’s behaviour had taken the wind right out of his sails. Hell, the promises Aaden had uttered into his ear had all but melted his insides into a pile of mush. He’d barely been able to hold a coherent thought in his head, thinking about someone watching Aaden do wicked things to him. His board shorts had hardly hidden his erection. He was just grateful he’d left his small jockey shorts on. They at least had given him a modicum of decency as he’d grabbed his clothes to hide his predicament.

  He couldn’t even remember the drive home. Heck, he could hardly remember his own name with all the craving coursing through him to get naked and do a happy dance all over Aaden’s equally naked body.

  His thoughts were interrupted when a blast of cold air had him shivering.

  “Come in, you’re letting out all the heat, and as my gas bill is colossal in the winter, I can’t afford to heat the street as well. And I’m still paying for clothes, clothes I might mention I got no benefit from in London.” He offered up a cheeky grin, taking the sting out of his words when Aaden’s brows drew together as he stepped inside and shut out the cold.

  Greg felt the hall shrink by two sizes as Aaden’s large frame took up all the room.

  Dear mother of God, how on earth will he fit in my bed?

  Trying not to focus on the image of them being crammed into his four-foot-six-inch bed, he waved his hand at the coat rack. “You can put your jacket on the rack.”

  Greg left Aaden to it, needing a minute to calm the fuck down. He opened the lounge door before heading in and through the room, switching on the lights as he went. He noted how the black furniture glowed. He congratulated himself for his mad cleaning dash earlier.

  Going into the kitchen off the lounge, he heard the muffled sound of heavy feet following a few seconds later. Greg popped on the kettle. Going to the fridge, he lifted out the homemade spaghetti sauce and freshly made garlic bread.

  “You okay with fishy spaghetti sauce and garlic bread?” Carrying on with the prep, Greg heard one of his breakfast stools slide on the tiled floor before Aaden responded.

  “I pretty much eat anything with two exceptions, peas and beans. They are the devil, and if you feed me those, I may never speak to you again.”

  Greg grinned up at Aaden’s comment. “Well, you’re safe then. I’m not overly keen on beans, though I don’t mind peas, but forewarned is forearmed.”

  Greg chatted on about his day. He relaxed as Aaden peppered him with occasional questions about the people he worked with, demonstrating that he was actually listening to him. Emotions wanted to rise up at how much it meant to him. Not letting his emotions get the better of him, Greg kept his hands busy along with his mind, regaling stories.

  He laid it on thick when he explained about his ongoing battle with Louise.

  “She applied for the job as office manager, and she hasn’t forgiven me for getting it. Her best friend, Emma, had it before me. Though how, I’ll never know. She was about as useful as chocolate fireguard.”

  Greg couldn’t contain his happiness as he rambled on, flicking a quick glance under his lashes every now and then at Aaden when he’d let out a laugh at something he’d said.

  The aromatic scents of rich tomato, her
bs, and salty fish, filled the small kitchen as Greg laid the breakfast bar with cutlery and glasses. His critical eye was happy with how the white surfaces gleamed under the lights. He overlooked how cramped the space was with Aaden in it, thinking it was cosy.

  As he offered Aaden a beer, butterflies danced in his stomach when he declined. Aaden’s explanation only added to his anxiety when he advised drinking and driving didn’t mix. Greg fidgeted with the food, blowing his fringe out of his eyes. Biting his lip, he kept quiet.

  Why doesn’t he want to stay the night with me?

  Greg chewed his lip, distracted at the thought of Aaden leaving before they got to the naked part of the evening. Greg pulled up short, remembering his fake tan disaster. He fiddled with his fork, his confidence taking a nosedive.

  Maybe Aaden wasn’t interested after seeing his body earlier?

  Was that it?

  He had assumed after the blistering kiss and sexy promise of more that Aaden would want to stay the night.

  Buggering hell, I forgot about Max.

  Maybe that was it. Maybe Aaden didn’t want to leave Max alone.

  Should I have offered for Aaden to bring Max as well?

  Greg sipped his Peroni beer, giving Aaden a considering look.

  Should I mention it? But do I want a cat that can read my thoughts here when we are getting all hot and naked?

  Finishing up his meal, Greg felt his frustration grow, unsure of how best to broach the subject. Mentally slapping himself, Greg gave up and went to speak. No sooner had he opened his mouth did Aaden lift the paperwork he’d put on the counter next to him, speaking.

  “Do you want to have a look at the plans I’ve drawn up for the kitchen? My brother arrives Saturday, or it could be Friday if he can get his act together and books the boat. Anyway, I wondered what you thought.”

  Greg was sidetracked when Aaden’s confident demeanour seemed somewhat diminished as he looked expectantly at Greg. Uncertainty clouded his handsome face as he shifted under Greg’s watchful stare.

  Not sure why Aaden was acting weird, he pulled the papers towards him seeing the outline of the kitchen, with some adjustments to take in the newly fitted windows overlooking the back garden.

  “I like the choices here and here.” Greg pointed to the cupboards placed around the two solid walls. “But if you knocked that small pantry out, you could use the space to house a seating area. The kitchen is too small for a large table. See how I did it here.” Greg motioned to the room before turning his attention back to the design. He could see what Aaden was trying to achieve.

  Greg searched the breakfast bar for something to use to draw. He grabbed a pencil out of the jar that housed odds and ends. He added some additions to the drawings. Art was not his forte, but he could see when Aaden got the gist of what he was doing when his dark onyx eyes gleamed with pleasure at him.

  They sat for a couple of hours working on the drawings as Aaden chatted about his life. Greg listened intently, taking everything in, storing it. It felt like the first time Aaden had relaxed fully and opened up to him, letting him into his inner sanctum.

  Greg felt the shift in their relationship as he sat there hanging on Aaden’s every word. The walls of Fort Knox that normally guarded Aaden slowly tumbled away with each new piece of information he gave up freely.

  Greg couldn’t comprehend how Aaden had lived for so many years not being able to talk about his relationship with Max. He knew it sounded far-fetched and unbelievable. Shit, he’d had first-hand experience, and he’d avoided thinking about it at first, worrying he might be losing the plot. But he got it now, and he supposed that might be because he was more open-minded about stuff than most people he knew. Though he’d had to let it sit and stew for a bit before he could really think about the possibilities. And now, well, let’s just say it could have some real positives if he could in the future read Aaden’s mind.

  Imagine not having to second-guess what the other person thought or felt.

  Greg stopped mid-thought. His stomach roiled, attempting to bring back his meal when the reality hit like a wrecking ball.

  All of Aaden’s thoughts.

  All of them, holy crapola.

  What if he changed his mind and decided he didn’t want me anymore?

  Greg resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands.

  “What’s up, Greg? You’re looking a little pale there. Is everything okay?”

  Aaden’s concern and the sound of his chair scraping across the tiles had him start, not realising he was staring at the breakfast bar. Aaden’s large rough palms gently cupped his face and tilted his head back. Aaden brushed Greg’s hair out of his eyes, searching his face.

  Greg let out a loud exhale, trying to find the words to explain his sudden worries. “I just had a thought, that was all. It was about being able to hear your thoughts. And, well, what happens when you don’t want me anymore and you decide you’ve had enough. That would be a crappy way to find out, right? If you let those thoughts escape and I could hear them.” Greg’s voice faded away with uncertainty. He swallowed the fear he felt coursing through him. His pulse, he was sure, was visible in his neck. It had to be the way it was thundering through his chest.

  Greg felt the heat spread up his face when Aaden’s dark eyes locked with his. The intensity he witnessed in their depths held him captive as Aaden lush mouth descended towards his.

  A hair’s breadth away, he paused, his unblinking gaze unwavering. Herby-scented, hot breath brushed against Greg’s lips, making them open in anticipation.

  “You have nothing to worry about. You can control what the other person hears, or so Max informs me. Remember, I’m new to that side of things as well. You can also, it seems, shut the other person out if you chose to. I hope you never chose to do that to me when we connect fully. And in answer to your concerns, Greg…”

  Greg felt Aaden’s large rough fingers pinch his chin, holding him in place before he continued.

  “I have waited more years than I care to think about for you. You, Greg, and not some ancient soul. You are my destined soulmate. It was always meant to be you, and there is no way in hell I am giving you up. When we eventually get to the stage where we are comfortable with taking the final step—”

  Greg all but leapt off the chair, his body vibrating at Aaden’s words, interrupting Aaden. “I’m ready. I’m more than ready. Hell, I think I was born ready for you, Aaden.”

  Aaden stopped him with a firm hand over his mouth. Aaden’s amused chuckle at Greg’s antics turned into a low growl when Greg couldn’t resist licking his tongue over the rough, blistered skin of his palm. He drew his tongue into his mouth enjoying the slight taste of salt and Aaden.

  “Behave, you tempting little bugger.”

  Aaden’s husky voice had Greg shudder and give another swipe before the hand was yanked back with another, louder growl.

  “Right, I think that’s my cue to leave.”

  The snarl sounded distinctly breathy to Greg, pleasing him no end as Aaden stepped away from him, his lust-filled gaze boring into Greg. The large obvious bulge in Aaden’s jeans had him grinning like a loon as he sidled off his chair and stepped towards Aaden’s retreating form.

  “Hey, now where do you think you’re going? I haven’t had a goodbye kiss yet. Remember, dates get a kiss goodnight, and I want mine.” He felt cocky at the pained look Aaden cast down at his trousers.

  Greg took a chance and charged.

  Aaden, unprepared, hit the wall with a thud as Greg landed against his chest. He pushed Aaden flat against the wall, feeling brave. He thrust his hands into Aaden’s silky mane and pulled his head down towards him. Lifting his lips, he slammed their mouths together.

  Molten heat surged, reminding him of their earlier encounter. Greg thrust his hips against Aaden’s thigh, lifting his leg, but he was hampered by the tightness of his skinny suit trousers. Groaning in frustration, he cursed for not changing his clothes for something stretchier. He wound his hands deepe
r into Aaden’s hair, trying to climb up his large body. The heat pouring off Aaden along with the sounds of snarling growls as Greg shoved his tongue deep into his mouth had his cock turning to rock. Greg’s frustration grew when he couldn’t climb up, his clothes deciding to cock-block him.

  Untangling his hands, Greg let go of Aaden’s hair. He dropped his hands and tried to unzip his trousers and shimmy out of them without breaking the soul-searing kiss.

  Greg chased Aaden’s swollen lips as he pulled back. Aaden’s head thudded against the wall as he tried to escape. Their combined breathless gasps filled the small kitchen as Greg whined in frustration.

  “Greg, you’re killing me, my red-headed beauty. If you don’t stop, I won’t be responsible for what happens next. You need to be totally sure about what it means when we make love. The bond will be enduring. Nothing will break it. You need to be sure you want that, want me. I can be a little difficult at times, so I’m told, and hard to get on with.”

  Greg chuckled at Aaden’s understatement. Aaden’s attempt at humour took the edge off his need, giving him time to clear the lusty thoughts driving him to the point of no return. Firmly back in the driving seat, Greg gave Aaden a thoughtful look, pushing his shaky hands down to readjust his cock into a more comfortable position, if it was at all possible.

  Is Aaden worried about me or himself?

  Greg’s doubts started to crowd his mind.

  How many times was that that Aaden had pulled back when they were at the point of taking that final step?

  Twice, three times?

  Again the question circled around his head.

  Is Aaden worried about me or himself?

  Greg stepped back, both physically and emotionally, needing a moment. He tried not to let the questions bombarding him undermine the confidence he had felt when they’d been talking. He looked away from Aaden, not wanting him to see the insecurity his words had caused him.

  Exhaling, he walked to the breakfast bar. Picking up Aaden’s drawings, he plastered a smile he didn’t feel to his face before turning back, offering the papers to Aaden.