Page 11 of Purrfectly Haunted

“Well then, goodnight,” James says, turning off the light with the switch by his bed with a flippant gesture.

He falls asleep in minutes, his breathing settling into a deep rhythm, as if he didn’t just grab me by the dick with his words.

three

Just a bunch of perverts

JAMES

I’m a pervert , I think as I watch Ewan sleep. It’s past noon, and the sun is shining through the small window, bathing him in a warm glow. His back is to me, and his t-shirt has ridden up during the night, revealing a smattering of freckles across his back. The comforter has slid down to his legs, giving me a perfect view of his biteable ass in his tight sweat pants. Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

I shouldn’t be staring like this. I think I misjudged him, and I’m pretty sure Ewan is straight. He didn’t look at my cock once last night when we were naked in the showers. Quite a feat, considering I made sure to stand proud in all of my glory. God, I wanted to wrap my arms around him last night when he was shaking. And his tears... fuck, his tears turned me on.

You’re a weirdo, James, and a massive pervert.

Blood pulses in my thickening cock. I always had a thing for bigger men, which makes dating complicated when you’re dominant like me. It’s difficult to find a large man who is willing to submit to me entirely, to let me unravel him like a knot.

But the ones who do... god... The feeling is addictive.

Against my will, my hand slides under my boxer briefs to stroke my erection. Immediately, I take it away and swear inwardly. No, James. You don’t masturbate thinking about unsuspecting partners. Especially not when they’re in the room. Down boy, down, I think as I slap my dick.

Ewan mumbles in his sleep, and I turn my eyes to the ceiling and sigh deeply.

We make our way to the staff kitchen for breakfast around 2pm. It’s situated on the ground floor, at the back of the house. The hostel is full of life and laughter, too much for my sleep-addled mind, and I can’t help glaring at all the guests. My mood doesn’t improve when we’re welcomed in the kitchen by yet another cat. It’s sitting pretty on the counter, meowing. It has a soft-looking beige coat, brown ears, and piercing blue eyes.

Ewan gasps. “It’s a Ragdoll! Hello, beautiful,” he says, petting the little monster.

“She’s called Pearl,” Shirley says. She’s eating lunch at the wooden table with two other staff members, both men. “An old lady on this street got sick, and she couldn’t take care of her, so Lana took her in five years ago. Don’t be fooled by her looks, she’s a nasty thing.” She pauses. “Or well, she usually is a nasty thing.”

The cat is purring like an engine and rubbing her face all over Ewan’s hand. His smile is blinding.

The staff kitchen is surprisingly large, with just a few mismatched appliances and a long wooden table in the middle. It must have been where the cooks and the servants prepared the meals for the Earl and his guests back in the day. They even kept the large, soot-stained fireplace. The only window has a view of the narrow back street, and a door for deliveries.

“Coffee?” I ask.

Shirley points to an old machine by the fridge. It makes enough noise to shake the entire house as it makes my coffee.

Which reminds me...

“Did you hear the commotion last night?” I say.

Shirley finishes chewing and shakes her head. “No. This house swallows all the sounds. But we found the damage in the guests' kitchen early this morning, and saw the missing pieces of the chandelier. Let me guess, you met the Burning Crone?”

Ewan shivers at the mention of the ghost. I offer him my coffee—I can make myself another one.

“Sugar?” I ask him.

He nods, blushing. “Aye, please. Thank you.”

I grab a sugar from the bowl and drop it inside his mug. He looks so pleased, I want to grab him by the throat and kiss him.

“Yeah, it was an interesting first encounter,” I say to Shirley. “She came after me.”

Her eyes widen. “She attacked you?”

“Tried to get a hold of me.”

“Wow. The ghosts must know you’re here to deal with them. The Crone is usually only seen in glimpses. Or guests will swear they can smell something burning. You should report to Lana after breakfast. She’ll want to know what happened.”