I held back a snort. That wasn’t the only thing Rowen wanted to do to him, but the more I stared at the professor, the more I understood the appeal. There was something unique about the man, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on what made him so interesting. He appeared to be young, probably younger than what he was, and he had a squarish jaw with full rosy lips. There was no other word for him but pretty. It was the eyes that won his best feature. They were a stunning brown, bright and full of openness, a weird trait I’d never seen up close. We worked for a mob, though, and men died if they looked as sweet as he did.
I would fuck him, that was for sure. I licked my lips as my gaze trailed down his chest to his toned thighs. His slim body would be beautiful beneath me as I slammed into his tight hole.
Rowen smacked his hand against my shoulder, and I threw him a look. He glared, jaw tight, and the message was clear in his stare—he’s mine. I grinned. There’d been more than one man we’d fought over, and I’d won every time. In the end, everyone always wanted the arsehole over the “good” guy. No one ever got to know us well enough to realize Rowen wasn’t any better than me, when you got right down to it.
I winked at Rowen, and he rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed. “Tell me, Professor, what made ye interested in the history of organized crime?”
“Doctor, actually. Vail Mifflin. Since you rescued me, it doesn’t make sense to be too formal, does it? So, please call me Vail.” He blinked owlishly, and his brows dipped for a moment, like he was either trying to understand the question or thinking of an answer. His right eyelid twitched. “Um.” He reached up to touch his face where his cheek was already swelling. “I’ve always been interested in criminal enterprises and their setup. To run a successful mob, you need to have skills not many possess.” He glanced out the window, watching as the city faded away. I expected him to demand we take him home, but he slumped against his seat.
“And?” I asked bluntly.
He blinked at me again. “Oh, yes. I like knowing about how hierarchies are built and destroyed. A simple betrayal at the right level can obliterate years of hard work. We can learn from our predecessors’ failures, but humans seem to be destined to repeat our past. Organized crime is one of those situations where it is easy to see how each person truly matters. Law enforcement will never stop the next mafioso rising. The mobs cut off their own legs. It’s a continuous loop of death, pain, and heartbreak.” The small, excited smile he sent my way was adorable—there was no other word for it. Doctor Vail Mifflin was a cupcake drizzled with chocolate. I bet he tasted as good as one, too. “It’s all very fascinating, from a human standpoint.”
I laughed abruptly, and he jumped, eyes wide. “If ye say so, doc.”
“My name is Doctor Vail Mifflin, notdoc.” He didn’t appear upset; rather, factual.
Smirking at him, I said, “Aye, I know. But I’ll keep calling ye doc. I’m Cillian.”
He frowned but didn’t say anything, focusing out the window again. It was as if he couldn’t keep his gaze on one spot, bouncing his attention around to different things. I didn’t miss the way he winced with every move, however, and at one point, he rested his forehead against the cool glass of the window.
Fallon, who sat in the middle in the back, leaned forward. He laid his arms on my seat and Vail’s, and as tempting as it was to knock him away from me, I focused on driving. He gave Vail a dazzling smile. “You look familiar. Are you famous?”
I rolled my eyes and sent him a glare.Here we go.The flirting was beginning.
Vail shook his head, then cringed. He held his arm close to his body, and I made a mental note to get Rowen to check him over. I didn’t run after anyone, not even hot university professors with a nice arse and lips made for sucking dick. “No, I’ve never been famous.”
Fallon shot him another stunning smile, flicking his blond hair over his shoulder like he was in a shampoo commercial. “Are you sure? Because your beauty alone could make you a movie star.”
Rowen groaned. “Fallon....”
Vail pursed his lips thoughtfully. “No, maybe you’re thinking about someone else. I would never remember lines from a script. My memory for rote memorization is terrible.”
I blinked in surprise and laughed loudly at the crestfallen expression on Fallon’s face. It seemed as if Vail had completely missed he was being flirted with, and it was fucking hilarious. The SUV swerved slightly because I couldn’t contain myself, my laughter growing stronger.
Fallon glared at me for a moment before he switched his gaze back to Vail. He smiled at him again. Another attempt was coming, and as funny as it was to see him miss his mark, I wasn’t in the mood.
“Shut yer mouth, Fallon. We’ve heard enough of yer voice for one day.”
Aspen grunted out his version of agreement, barely audible. “Lean back, boy.” I couldn’t see Aspen because he sat right behind me, but I imagined he was as irritated as I was with the newbie.
Fallon fell back against his seat and pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek to show his displeasure, but the muppet was smart enough to keep his trap closed. We spent the rest of the ride mostly in silence, and the quietness meant we could hear the small whimpers of pain that came from Vail. He didn’t ask where we were going like I’d expected.
When we finally arrived at Westhampton Beach and our home, he was falling asleep against the door. The house windows were all blazing with light, which probably meant the woman who came to clean had left them on because we usually didn’t. I tensed but shrugged. If someone was waiting in there to kill us, worrying about it wouldn’t do any good. Our home was simple, with a stone foundation that made up the outer walls of the first floor, and pillars on the front porch. Blue-stained wooden shingles covered the rest of the house, though in the dark the color was impossible to tell, and the roof was done in black shingles. All in all, I liked our place, and uneasily, I hoped Vail did, too.
Why do I give a shite what he thinks?
Vail jerked upright when I turned off the SUV in the driveway near the path that led to the front door, and by the time he was fully awake, Rowen was at his side, reaching over him to unclip his seat belt.
“Why didn’t ye park in the garage?” Rowen demanded.
“Because, yer shite Lexus is still in me spot.”
“Wanker,” he growled out.
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t tear my attention away from Vail and the way he limped into the house with Rowen’s help. I followed them through the wide entrance into the front hallway, closing the solid white door behind us. Vail pulled Rowen to a stop as soon as they entered and toed off his shoes before he began walking again. It was a small act of consideration that we wouldn’t have given a shite about anyway.
We hadn’t done anything fancy with the house—the walls and ceilings were white, and the counters, floors, and built-in cupboards were gray oak. Finding furniture to fit the scheme was harder, but Rowen made it happen. He was a planner. The rest of us had added a few things here and there, but he made this place a home.
