“Ye fecking didn’t.”
I shook my phone at him with a smug smile. “Next time you want to be a smart-ass, I’ll send this to Fallon.”
“Ye’re a fecking arsehole.” He narrowed his eyes on my phone and fell back on the couch. “Just do it. It bloody fecking burns.”
I rolled my eyes at his dramatics and nudged his thigh so I could sit on the edge of the couch. I threw my phone on the coffee table and pumped some of the aloe out into my hand, then placed the bottle on the table, too. Starting at his neck, I pressed my palms to his skin, rubbing the gel onto the tender flesh. He grunted and stiffened under the pressure of my hands but didn’t say anything as I slowly worked in the gel until it fully absorbed.
Fifteen minutes later, I had his back coated with the aloe and I was finally at his ass. His usually pale cheeks—now blazing red from the sunburn—twitched under my inspection.
“Ye checkin’ out me arse?” he teased, voice deepening with lust.
I shrugged. “It’s a hot ass. Sure you won’t let me fuck it?”
Cillian snorted and shifted on the couch, his dick and balls moving with him. His dick was already filling, flushed red at the head as it peeked out from his foreskin. “Not a chance. Not unless it’s ye bending over, mate.”
I laughed and slapped his ass, completely forgetting about the sunburn for a second. He hissed and let out a yelp, and I winced apologetically, but to my surprise, his dick hardened farther.
“Fecking hell.” He groaned and buried his face back in the pillow, ass flexing as he bore his dick down onto the couch. I had a feeling Sloan would give us an earful if he knew what was happening on his expensive furniture right now.
“Just stay still. I’m nearly done.” I dumped more gel into my palms and ran my hands over his cheeks, digging my thumbs into his fleshy mounds. The muscles in his ass tensed with my kneading and he spread his legs wider, giving me a view of his pink, puckered hole. I froze, gaze zeroed in on the tight space that I was pretty sure no one had fucked. If they had, it would’ve been a long time ago. The thought of getting in there sent pleasure streaking to my dick, and the stiffness returned, an excited bulge trapped in my pants.
“Oi. What’s wrong?” Cillian grunted and wriggled. “Hurry the feck up, will ye? This shite is gross.”
“You can’t wash it off,” I said, shaking my head and focusing on my task again. “It needs to soak in.”
He snorted. “Sounds like a load of codswallop.”
“Have you ever been sunburned like this?” I asked, curious. “You’re as white as a fucking ghost. What did you expect to happen in the Florida sun?”
He kicked his knee up, whacking me on the side as he threw a foul look at me. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, did I? This shite is boring. All we’re doing is playing shadow games, and I haven’t fucked anyone in two weeks. When Sloan sent us here, I thought we would be done and home by now.”
I shrugged. “Sloan knows what he’s doing. We can’t start a war until we know the battle we’re waging.” I frowned and considered Thiago Reyes’s cousin. There was something about him I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He wasn’t an idiot and he kept watching his back, as though he expected to be followed. At the same time, he was sly and careful. That kind of man had plans B and C in his back pocket. “You’ve seen Joaquin Reyes. The guy’s careful.”
“He’s a fecking Reyes. He’s cocky.” I didn’t miss the reluctant admiration in Cillian’s tone. I’d been around him long enough to know what I was hearing from him. He hated that he respected Joaquin, but it was hard not to. Someone dumber would’ve been dead by now.
I rubbed more aloe down his legs and patted him gently on the ass when I was done. I stood and winked at him when he glanced at me. “You’ll be peeling like fifty-year-old wallpaper soon.”
“Feck ye,” he grumbled as I laughed.
I wiped my hands on my cargo shorts and grabbed my phone. He frowned at me while I played on the screen, sending the photo to Fallon. His eyes widened when I chuckled.
“Mate, I swear, if ye did what I think ye did, I’m gonna kick yer balls so far up yer body that ye’ll feel them in yer throat.” He stood, hard dick bouncing with the sudden movement. His shaft curved up, head still flushed and foreskin lower than before.
I stepped back and waved my phone at him. “I would like to see you try.”
Cillian threw himself at me, and I grabbed him. We struggled, and my phone went flying to the floor, the sound of a crack making me wince. I wrestled him onto the couch on his back. He hissed, but Cillian had been through enough pain in his life that a sunburn, even a bad one, wasn’t going to stop him from trying to get the upper hand. I wasn’t going to let him win. Friend or not, this was a matter of pride.
He attempted to wedge his knee between my legs, but I knocked it to the side, spreading his legs farther as I settled between them. I clutched his wrists, ignoring his cursing as I slammed them above his head.
“Feck off. Ye motherfecker.”
I pressed my knee into his, keeping one of his legs pinned to the couch, before I slammed his wrists above his head again. He was effectively caught.
“Tag out.” I grunted and fought against his wriggling. “Fucking tag out, Cillian.”
“Feck ye.” He tried to headbutt me, but I shifted just in time. He got my chin, though, and it hurt him more than me.
“Fuck!”
