Secret Of The Manor (15 page)

“I think we should go soon,” Warren whispered to Eileen.

The three finished their tea, and two put on their shoes and shrugged on their coats. Eileen suggested they leave Carl to his sleep. They moved to the door and said their goodbyes to Eileen with hugs. The men stepped out into the porch and Eileen tugged on Warren’s arm, then pointed up. Something was there that wasn’t before: mistletoe. With a sneaky smile, Eileen shut the door and went about her business.

All at once, Warren felt a myriad of emotions: embarrassed, awkward, horny, lost, and that was not the end of the list. He felt heat rising in his cheeks and had no idea where to look, so tried to peer out into the dark in the general direction of his car. Mid-panic, he felt hands on his shoulders gently turning him. He saw a chest and followed a long neck up until he saw lips and, eventually, sparkling blue eyes. Alex cupped his face and spoke softly. “Merry Christmas, Warren.”

The kiss was gentle, barely touching his lips. It left Warren wanting more. He closed his eyes, slipped his hands around Alex’s waist, and pulled him closer. Their next kiss was firmer and fuller, and Warren opened his mouth a little, tempting Alex to taste him. The invitation was not refused.

Warren was in heaven. He’d kissed many times in lust. It was usually short foreplay to another goal, but this... his kiss with Alex was caviar in place of cough syrup. It created sparks deep inside him he’d never dared to believe existed. His heart beat faster, and he lost all sense of location. He moaned into Alex’s mouth, and Alex captured his bottom lip, to Warren’s compliant whimper.

Location... oh, shit
. He was on Carl’s porch.

Warren broke away, panting. “I think...” he swallowed, “I think we can find a better place to... continue. If you wish?” Alex, too, was breathless, and pulled Warren towards the car.

FROM THE moment the door slammed shut behind them, Alex and Warren’s lips didn’t part. Heavy breathing and grunts accompanied the struggle to rid themselves of scarves and coats. The garments thudded to the floor, and the men once again pressed hard against each other.

They tripped, fumbled, and groped their way to the settee as they relished their heated embrace. Short, angled kisses tasted lips like they were melting ice cream. Warren laced his fingers through Alex’s hair, finally feeling the silky strands, while Alex pulled Warren’s groin close and ground into him before lowering him to the leather pillows.

Alex, in true Salem style, attacked Warren, but in a way that was nothing like his transformed self. Warren was totally enveloped in all that was Alex, and he welcomed it. For so long, Warren had been in control, and it was liberating to submit to the wanton passion of the man above him.

While they remained connected from the chest down, the men’s faces parted. Sapphire eyes searched Warren’s features. Chests heaved, and lustful lips rested briefly. All Warren could see was ruffled hair, desire, and need. Again, Alex pressed his pelvis into Warren, the hardness of passion evident. Warren closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and groaned his appreciation. He moved his hands to Alex’s rear and circled his own hips to show Alex the feelings were mutual. Alex gasped, and once again Warren found his breath taken away by Alex’s possessive mouth upon his.

South of the waist, Warren was decidedly uncomfortable. He slid his hand between them, navigated his waistband, undid his button, and slid down his zipper. Alex raised his hips enough to allow the same to be done to him. Warren felt the tip of Alex’s cock against his hand, and he followed the leaking length into Alex’s boxers. Alex immediately lowered himself again onto Warren, trapping his hand, and undulated.

Warren wanted to reach further, do more, but the sensations were so great that if he continued he’d come quicker than a horny teenager. He released his hand, slid it under Alex’s shirt, and caressed his back. Farther up, Warren pushed his tongue into Alex’s mouth. He tasted of wine, gravy, and everything Christmas. Alex’s response was to open wider and devour Warren.

Passion reigned. Alex prompted Warren to wriggle and slide a leg out of his trousers, and Alex followed suit. Need negated taking the time to shed more. Warren wrapped his legs around Alex, who by then had released both of their cocks. With no lubrication nearby, Warren licked his palm and secured both members in one hand. Alex sank his head onto Warren’s neck and thrust in earnest. Warren did what he could under the weight of the taller man. Groans, moans, and whimpers echoed around the dimly lit room until Alex raised his weight from Warren, allowing both men to look upon the scene between their hips. Warren pumped for all he was worth and, in a mixture of pain and pleasure, both men cried their release.

If Warren were at a club, that would have been the end of it. With Alex, the sated men continued to kiss. Only the urgency was gone from their union. In its place were languid kisses of appreciation for a long while before the stickiness between them became a priority.

Despite the heat of their exchange and temptation to take it further, the men spent the night in separate beds.

The next day they wrapped up warm, and training continued. Only whereas previously a helping hand was offered to the one on the ground, now it was accompanied by the reward of a kiss. Evening conversation still centred around warrior-style moves, except their proximity to one another was closer—much closer. And their pre-bedtime movie went unwatched, due to a different type of action happening on the sofa.

AS ALEX placed his case and lightsaber by the door to wait for James, Warren enquired, “Don’t you drive?”

“I can. It’s just easier this way. No car on your drive for people to ask questions about. And it’s easier to hide in James’ car. Locals are quick to gossip about anything unusual in the area.”

Right on time, James knocked on the door. With the change in their relationship, neither man wanted to answer the call of the outside world. Instead, they locked lips in a passionate embrace, each unwilling to let the other go. They’d spent the morning sharing kisses varying from sweet to heady and lovingly lustful.

Another, harder rap on the door broke the men apart. “Call me when you get home,” Warren urged.

“I will,” Alex promised as he drew Warren into another heated embrace.

The third, extra-loud bang at the door couldn’t be ignored. Alex opened it and picked up his case, ready to go. Warren was about to say something when Alex came back to him, looped an arm around his waist, and pulled him into a lingering goodbye kiss. “See you in a few days.”

Still reeling from the kiss, Warren muttered, “Mmmm.” By the time he recovered and moved to the doorway, Alex was by the car, being ordered to get in by a scowling James. He peeled out of the drive, sending stones flying as he went.

Warren closed the door, turned up the heating, and wondered what had crawled inside James’ bottom. Already missing Alex, Warren spent the next hour cuddling the pillow from Alex’s bed. He smiled at the turn of events and relived the passion that had overtaken them. Unwilling to voice out loud what was happening, deep down Warren knew something special had developed, and he had no idea where it would lead him. There was a connection between them that he’d initially felt through his dreams of eyes. Since then, the more time they spent together, the stronger it became, culminating in their Christmas-day heaven.

Despite the mutual attraction, Warren didn’t want to spoil things by quickly bedding Alex like some nightclub encounter. No, something inside him held back and revelled in the sensations of hardened hands and a teasing tongue. Alex’s kisses lit a fire inside him, and he hoped the feeling was mutual.

Out of nowhere, a flash of doubt marred Warren’s contented state. Was there a possibility his feelings were one-sided? What if Alex’s advances were a misguided form of thanks, or a last-ditch attempt at experiencing life before something wicked claimed the swan? Was it a way of keeping him on board until the curse was broken?

His thoughts were interrupted by a
Star Wars
ringtone. It was Alex notifying Warren of his safe arrival in Malvern. Twenty minutes and several endearments later, the line went dead, and Warren smiled into the pillow.

Eventually, the need to regain an orderly house became paramount and he spent part of the day tidying and catching up with his washing. Later he headed over to the stables to see how much more mud Argo had managed to mat into his mane, which mercifully wasn’t as bad as he expected. Due to joust training with the hoops, Argo stayed at Carl’s instead of having a holiday at Warren’s house. Regardless of the stables at the cottage, Warren suspected Carl’s would be Argo’s permanent home; then, when Warren had more of a grip on his future, he would spend equal time at the two.

It was a rare thing for Warren to be at a loose end. He had plenty of things to do but was used to doing them at other times. Certain jobs he was used to doing in the evenings, like filling the washing machine. Regardless of the importance of his mediaeval mission, between training, Warren wanted some time out from it, so he fired up his laptop and got ahead of some of the work he knew was on its way when he returned to A-Genet.

He knew where he was with numbers, and was exceedingly pleased when his staff submitted work where they hadn’t cocked up their rates and calculations. It put him in a much stronger position when negotiating contracts with other agencies. Agencies that always expected some discount, so he factored extra into the profit margins.

Working alone, with no distractions, allowed Warren to race through his prep work and fire off the information to Jean for insertion into a standard report. With his work done to the point of needing input from others, he settled into his routine of a cognac by the fire.

When he looked at the ice in his drink, he saw reflections of the church covered in roses. He remembered the first day he visited. How the sun shone. He still hadn’t been inside, but he could clearly remember looking at the stone and windows. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the pain in his finger left by the rose thorn. It had taken days for the cut to heal. Then again, that type of thing usually did. Especially on awkward places like fingers. He smiled when he saw the faces connected to the eyes in his dreams—Nicholas and, of course, Alex. His loins jerked to life at the sensations the man created, and as much as he liked his tidier cottage, it seemed empty without Alex in it.

THE NEXT morning Warren arrived at the stables just after opening. He fed Argo and checked him over. At least the mud in Argo’s mane had dried and, with some careful manipulation, it crumbled to dust. After that, Warren made Argo presentable. It wasn’t like they were entering a show, and he didn’t want to ruin Argo’s mane and tail through too much hard brushing.

Warren helped Carl and Eileen set up some pony-club jumps, and then ventured out on Argo, both of them draped in reflective winter gear. At that time of year, ramblers were at a minimum and cars infrequent, so Warren stayed to the roads for a while. All he could hear was the clip-clop of hooves on tarmac as they weaved their way down winding lanes.

Fifteen minutes in, Warren reached the gate to the bridleway that bypassed the village green and its half-dozen shops. The path was wide, with high hedges, and the ground was covered with patches of grass the frost hadn’t managed to penetrate.

Argo knew what to do when the creaking gate closed behind them with a clunk. His chest puffed out, and he pawed at the ground. Warren stroked his neck to calm him. “Okay, boy, I’ll let you go. But we’ve got to be more careful underfoot today. The ice might have sneaked into the mud.” Argo snorted in reply, and his hot breath clouded through the morning chill. Warren gathered up his reins and squeezed his legs to urge Argo on.

The thudding pace was steady yet invigorating, and Argo breathed in time with his stride. Towards the end, they slowed to walk, both satisfied with their short, bracing canter.

They exited the path and entered the woods. The night frost coated the branches in silver, but in places it hadn’t reached the ground. Warren relaxed, enjoying the solitude and the earthy scents of pine and bark. He closed his eyes and was at peace. Soon, he heard the faint pitter-patter of what he thought was light rain. But when he looked to the skies, what landed upon his nose was a snowflake. It melted and dripped into the side of his mouth, cold and fresh to the taste. More flakes fell, and for a short while, man and horse became part of a winter wonderland. Warren smiled.

The flurry disappeared almost as quickly as it arrived, and it wasn’t long before Warren was close to his destination. It had been a while since he’d had the chance to spend any quality time with Nicholas, and he needed to voice his thoughts on a few things.

Once inside the graveyard, Argo couldn’t go anywhere unless he’d acquired the skill of opening and closing gates with his mouth. So Warren looped his reins over a nearby branch and secured Argo’s coat around his neck.

No snow had reached the underbelly of the veil of holly protecting Nicholas, but Warren stopped short at what he saw. The wreath he’d placed on Nicholas’ grave was shredded. Warren dropped to his knees in sadness. Who or what could have done such a thing?

WARREN LEANED over and picked up the pieces, inspecting them as he piled them by the headstone. Had the wreath been made solely with evergreens and berries, he’d have suspected an animal had ravaged it. Indeed, the greenery was scattered. But the fake cones and fake berries had been crushed under something heavy, and the metal ring on which the items were secured was bent in half.

“Oh, Nicholas, I’m so sorry,” Warren lamented.

He picked up the last scraps of wreath and piled them with the others. Then he tucked his coat under him and rested by the headstone. “And here was me thinking I’d had an interesting few days.”

He laid his hand on the earth below the headstone. “I take it someone doesn’t like me paying attention to you, huh, my friend?” Warren looked around in the hope of seeing Nicholas, but he was nowhere. “Who could have done it? I didn’t think anyone came here. Is it someone from your world or mine who did this?”