by J P Sayle
Laughter filled the room as several pairs of eyes all turned and stared at him, but it was Brody who spoke first.
“Did you just call your dick the crown jewels?”
“Oh, fuck off. I’ve heard you call yours the nutcracker suite,” Ellie shot back.
All the men fell about laughing, making Ellie feel marginally better, as the attention shifted from him to Brody.
After another hour or so of cheerful banter, Joe and Stuart stated that they were leaving. Everyone soon followed suit, including Connor, much to his disappointment.
“Can you ring me a taxi please, Brody?” Ellie asked as the men all left the room.
“Why don’t you stay the night?”
Aaden laughed. “And which room would he be sleeping in?”
“Shit, I forgot there isn’t a spare room,” Brody said apologetically.
About to shrug, Ellie froze.
“I have a spare room if you want to stay. I’m only next door.” Connor’s offer, the pink hue coating his cheeks, and the look of uncertainty on his face made Ellie chew his lip.
Was it weird he wanted to say yes? Should he stay with a stranger? He’s not a stranger; he is Nick’s friend.
While he dithered over answering, he saw Connor’s shoulders droop. “Yes, okay that’s great as long as I don’t have to share with the cat.” He avoided looking at Brody, sensing the speculation in his eyes.
“Great, that’s great.” Connor’s mumbled reply had Ellie not entirely convinced he meant it. Maybe he was only being kind and didn’t want him to stay at all.
Painting himself into a corner, he followed Connor, the weight of Brody’s stare making him want to squirm. When they got to the door to say their goodbyes, he took his coat from Nick and offered a sunny smile. “Thank you for inviting me tonight. I had a great time.”
“That’s cool. I’m sure we can come up with some nights out where we don’t have these big lugs with us.” Nick pointed to Aaden and Brody. “They tend to hamper the fun factor if you get my drift.” Nick winked at him before he was grabbed in a headlock by Aaden. His large hand came up, and he rubbed his knuckles over the top of Nick’s head, making Ellie wince at the force and the mess he’d made of Nick’s hair.
Ellie’s mouth opened and shut twice as the floor shuddered under his feet. Nick moved so fast he wasn’t sure what had happened till he saw Aaden land in a heap on the floor, nearly knocking over Connor, who dodged at the last second.
Brody grabbed hold of Nick and pulled him away from Aaden.
“Right, you pair, enough. Shit. We were supposed to be making a good impression on Connor.”
Connor held up his hand, laughter sparking in the depth of his almond eyes. The smile he aimed at Ellie as he spoke had his toes curl in his shoes.
“I’m a teacher. I’m used to these antics. And you forget, Brody, I’ve known Nick for a very long time.”
For some reason Ellie couldn’t fathom, Nick’s face drained of colour, and Connor looked uncomfortable at the mention of the length of time they’d known each other.
Was he missing something? Had they been more than friends? Ellie’s brow pinched, his eyes narrowing on the two men.
Aaden rubbing at his backside while he stood, sidetracked Ellie. With promises to come and see Brody in the morning to get a lift home, he followed Connor, who he noted was catless.
“Where’s your cat gone?”
Connor glanced back at him over his shoulder and shrugged. “Who knows? She comes and goes as she pleases.”
“Aren’t you worried she’ll get lost, with you only being here a couple of weeks?”
Connor’s brow rose. “You know I never gave that any thought. I haven’t had her very long, and she is the first pet I’ve ever had.”
Ellie got the distinct impression there was more to that story, but wasn’t sure whether he should ask. Leaving it for now, he asked instead, “Are you sure you don’t mind me staying with you?”
When Connor turned and gave him a considering look, he held his breath. Was he going to change his mind? Realisation dawned that this was the last thing he wanted. He couldn’t explain why he wanted to spend more time in Connor’s presence. Really?
The voice was firmly ignored, and he pretended he didn’t want Connor with a passion that left him aching and confused.
“No, I don’t mind in the slightest. I want to get to know you better. There were so many people talking tonight, it was hard to get a word in edgewise,” Connor said, unlocking the door and stepping into the dark hall.
A light flicked on a second later, and Ellie walked towards the open door. A sudden feeling roared to life in his chest. A feeling that said that if he took another step through the open door, his life would change in ways he couldn’t fathom. The urge to run in the other direction battled with the need to see if he was right.
With a dry mouth and a thundering pulse, he took the last few steps over the threshold, even though he couldn’t explain what was happening to him at that moment. Not sure what to do with his hands, he jammed them into his coat pockets. His feet sunk into the carpet as he followed Connor, who explained where everything was.
“The house pretty much mirrors Aaden’s. The bedroom you’ll be using is at the top of the stairs, second door on the right. Mine is next door, and the bathroom is opposite your room. I’m sorry there isn’t an en-suite.”
Connor
What had possessed him to invite Ellie into his home? Fuck, he’d known him all of five bloody minutes, and already he wanted the man like no other. He carried on wittering about where everything was, trying to cover up his nervousness.
The dazed expression on Ellie’s face along with a gleam of hope when he’d offered him a bed for the night had his chest tightening. Was Ellie a boy at heart? It was a question he was no closer to finding an answer to. He’d spent the evening doing his best not to be obvious about how drawn he was to the tiny, flamboyant man.
His silver eyes were a thing of beauty and showed every emotion. Connor deduced Ellie was unaware of what he revealed. There was a level of vulnerability to Ellie that had the Daddy side of him want to take hold and wrap him in his arms.
Like that’s all you want to do to him.
Connor grunted and then wished he’d been able to stay silent when Ellie jerked and fidgeted on the spot. Realising he was making things awkward, Connor asked, “Do you want a nightcap before we head to bed.”
A look of yearning crossed Ellie’s face, along with a dark red flush. Confused for a moment, Connor took a second to playback what he’d just said. The “we” stuck out. Shit. “I meant us… no, I mean you… aw, shit.” Wiping his hands over his face, he shut up. The sound of giggles coming from Ellie got him to remove his hands from his face.
“You know that if you were my boy, I’d be spanking your backside for laughing at me.” No sooner had the words left his lips than Ellie gasped and the yearning he’d seen before returned in the depths of his silver eyes, turning them to liquid metal.
Connor couldn’t keep his mouth shut. The question was out before he could engage his brain fully and stop it. “Do you want to be someone’s boy?” The question hung between them. Connor held his breath, his stomach flip-flopping all over the place. Had he rushed and ruined things? Why had he asked that? Why was he desperate to know the answer?
Ellie’s mouth opened, then shut. His head moved a fraction in a nod. It was like it was pushing against Ellie’s will, but it was enough for Connor to get the gist. His heart thundered with the urge to claim him and do it fast. Did he have a Daddy already? That question pulled Connor up short.
The man who tended to move at a snail’s pace was suddenly trying to become the hare. Why am I rushing?
Unnerved in ways he was unable to fathom, he scratched at his head. What to do?
“Let’s go and sit. I’ll get a bottle of wine, and we can relax and get to know each other. I don’t normally behave like this.” The uncertainty in his voice got a small smile
from Ellie, but Connor was happy to see he stopped fidgeting. Leading the way into the lounge, he eyed the room to make sure it was tidy. He’d unpacked and put everything away; his need for order wouldn’t allow him to live in chaos for long. Happy everything was neat, he directed Ellie to the big comfy sofa. “You happy to stick with red wine?”
“Yes, please, though just a small glass. I’ve already had quite a bit. You wouldn’t want to get me drunk, now would you?” Ellie said cheekily.
Connor was desperate to ask what a tipsy Ellie would be like, but he gritted his teeth together. With effort, he went and got another bottle of red. On the side in the kitchen, he spotted a tray that he took it to the counter. Then he went to the fridge to pull out some nibbles and place them on the tray.
Several minutes later, he returned to the front room. Lamps glowed and cast a shadow over Ellie’s slumbering face. His mouth hung open slightly, and his blond hair gleamed under the light. Fists held on to the tray at the surging emotions that caught in the back of Connor’s throat. Urged to step closer, he sighed, and his knuckles cracked. The sound had Ellie stir before he snuggled and shoved his nose into the pillow under his cheek. Little snuffling noises followed, and a small smile formed on his lips when his face brushed against the pillow.
Was he scenting me from the chair?
Fuck, I hope so.
Dear god, stop being ridiculous.
Connor took a step back out of the room before he lost control of himself and did something that could probably get him arrested, or worse, disowned by his friend. A sigh heaved past his lips when he took the tray back to the kitchen. What do I do now? Leave him on the sofa or carry him upstairs?
A tingle lit up his palms at the very idea of holding the delicious man in his arms. Swinging back around towards the door, he stopped, his eyes meeting the frosty stare of Morgana. Her brow rose at him. She surely couldn’t know what he planned to do? His teeth sank into his lower lip when the instinctive urge to ask her opinion gripped him and wouldn’t let go.
“Do you think I should carry him to bed? I mean, he’ll end up with a crick in his neck at the very least if I leave him there,” he babbled. What on earth am I doing?
His eyes rolling heavenward, he stomped out of the kitchen after seeing the humour dancing in Morgana’s jewelled eyes. The fact that her head had nodded was neither here nor there. It meant nothing, right?
When he walked back into the lounge, he shoved his thoughts aside. His attention moved to the man curled up on the sofa, hugging a pillow into his chest. As carefully as he could, Connor scooped him up, gently holding him against his chest. A soft sigh floated past his ear. Ellie snuggled into his chest, laying his head over Connor’s heart.
How Ellie remained asleep with the rate at which it was beating was beyond Connor. With ease, he moved to the door. He held his breath as he took the stairs carefully, making sure not to jerk or twist suddenly.
His lungs screamed by the time he got to the top of the stairs, but not from the weight of holding Ellie. He weighed hardly anything. No, it was from the effort of holding his breath. Seeing the error of his ways, he released a gushing breath. His chest expanded, dislodging Ellie’s head for a second before it lolled back.
Ellie slurred, “Wh…ats goin’ on?” His eyes opened to a slit to blearily stare up at Connor.
The dazed confusion and sleepy expression had every muscle in Connor’s body strain. A driving need to kiss the pouty, soft-looking lips was harder to resist than it should have been. “Shush, sweet boy. You fell asleep. I am carrying you to bed.”
“Ok-ay, Daddy.”
Connor forgot how to breathe at Ellie’s sleepy response before his eyes drifted closed again and he stuck his nose into Connor’s chest. Oh, bugger. Oh, bugger. What am I going to do?
Arms trembling, he gave his bedroom door a longing look, then carried Ellie into the spare room. After placing him on the bed, he eyed Ellie’s clothing. Should he undress him? No. No way. That was too much temptation.
Carefully he wiggled the duvet free and pulled it up over Ellie after slipping his shoes off. Tucking him in, he barely resisted the urge to kiss him goodnight. Instead, he gently brushed a hand over Ellie’s silky hair. “What am I going to do with you?” he whispered into the quiet room.
When Ellie’s head shifted into his touch as if in answer, his eyes widened. He snatched his hand back, his chest constricted by the wave of need riding him.
He spun around to see Morgana sitting in the doorway, the hall light casting her face in shadow, preventing him from seeing what she was thinking. A shiver raced up his spine. Shuddering with unease, he strode out of the room, not looking back.
With Morgana following him, he quickly shut the door without looking down at her. He went into his room and firmly closed the door on her face, not needing her judgement when he had enough of his own. I can control myself. I can.
No matter how many times he said it, it didn’t stop his hands shaking or his heart attempting to jump out of his chest to hurry back to the man who seemed to have captured it in just a few short hours. On unsteady legs, he walked to his bed and sat. Burying his head in his hands, he stared at the grey carpet. His mind went back to the one word that confirmed his first thoughts about Ellie: Daddy.
The problem was, he still didn’t have any answers as to whether Ellie already had one. No matter how much his heart had decided it wanted to claim him the moment Ellie walked into the room, he never stepped on another person’s territory.
This was different, he argued. His heart wasn’t going to listen, and neither was his soul. Ellie spoke to him in ways no one ever had, and it wasn’t going to be denied. “Fuck,” he cursed. This was the last thing he needed.
“Is that so?”
Connor jerked off the bed, whirling round. His eyes searched the empty room for the female voice he’d heard as clear as a bell. “Who’s there?” he warbled, none too happily.
“Oh, for pity’s sake, open the door and let me in. I can’t do this when I can’t see you.”
His eyes were glued to the door, and his chest heaved as he shakily walked towards it. His hand hovered over the handle. With a sweaty palm, he cracked open the door and staggered back when Morgana sailed inside the room soundlessly. This is so not happening.
“Yes, it is. Get a grip, man. You’re acting like a fool standing there with your mouth hanging open.”
His hand lifted to his mouth before he could think better off it. With an exasperated huff, he dropped his hand, finding he was indeed standing with his mouth open. Snapping his lips shut, he glared at the smug-looking cat sitting at his feet. “How can I hear you?”
“We have a unique connection. That’s why. I know you feel it, so don’t even deny it.” Her ginger brow arched at him and stopped the words from tumbling from his lips.
“I can read your thoughts, Connor. So no matter what you say out loud, I’ll know what you were going to say. You are hearing me in your mind,” she explained like he was stupid and didn’t get it.
He didn’t, but as she explained, he didn’t need to say it when she could read him. When it registered that she could probably read all his thoughts, heat sweep like a brush fire up his face.
“I’m losing it. This really can’t be happening.”
“Please, don’t whine like that. I’m far too old for that nonsense.”
That pulled Connor from his meltdown. “How old?”
He wasn’t sure he actually wanted the answer, given the gleam of mischief now shining in her eyes.
“Guess.”
“Why do you want me to guess? You just told me you were too old for nonsense. Aren’t you too old for games, then?” The humour of the situation getting the better of him, he sniggered when he heard a loud disgruntled sigh reverberate through his mind.
Was this happening?
“Yes, it is. Please don’t lose the plot. Max explained that Aaden did when he first started communicating with him. I believe the others weren’t
much better. Never mind when they found out Christina is a witch.”
With a look of bewilderment, Connor sat back down on the bed and wondered when his life had gone from simple to plain weird. Was Morgana telling him that Aaden’s cat was the same as her? That Aaden could communicate with his cat. Was this some cosmic joke he’d wake from, to find Aaden had slipped some magic mushrooms in the curry and he was having an out-of-body experience.
“What did I say? You are not having an out-of-body experience, and this is real.”
Morgana swiped her sharp claws at his hand, and Connor growled at the sting of real pain. Blood rose to the surface of his skin, pooling in the claw marks. The painful sting increased as the room temperature dried the wound as he stared at it for long minutes.
It’s real. It’s real. It’s real. His mind was on replay. Movement out of the corner of his eye had him shift back before the paw could connect again.
“Stop it. Give me a bloody minute to digest this information. How often does a man find out the cat he took in can communicate with him through telepathy?” As he spoke, he got up, the need to walk taking charge.
Mindful of the possibilities, he paid no attention to Morgana, who’d jumped onto the bed and sat watching him.
Okay, I can deal with this. Connor stilled, a conversation he’d had with Nick years before replaying in his mind. What was the name Morgana had mentioned—Christina—wasn’t that the name of the person bothering Nick. Scratching at his head, Connor glanced at Morgana. “Who is Christina?”
His breath caught in his lungs at Morgana’s response.
“She is an old witch. Her spirit has been around for centuries.” Morgana talked of eras Connor had only ever read about in history books. Weak at the knees and wide-eyed, he walked back to the bed and sat.
How is this all possible? Guardian cats? Witches? Worlds that existed beyond this one? Crikey Moses. There was no way you could dream this up.
