Page 62 of Sweet Vengeance
“I’m so sorry, Ollie.”
“No, no. I’m fine. I’m just…jumpy.” It’s normal to be jumpy after something like this. It’s normal and doesn’t mean I’m weak, I remind myself.
But the closer I get to the end of the night, the more nervous I become. It’s not like I expect them to come in guns blazing. Plus, Cillian will be here to pick me up. He’s not going to let anything happen to me.
The kitchen is right behind the front counter, open for customers to see us and for us to see the people coming in. It’s about half an hour before we close when the door opens…Cillian and Rory walking in.
All my nerves and worries dissipate, the relief flooding my body and leaving me weak in the knees.
Our eyes meet, and when Cillian grins, I know everything will be okay.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Cillian
“Hit me,” Itell Ollie as we stand in the backyard at the house. He’s been back at work for a week now. I drop him off and pick him up after every shift. We’ve had someone watching the warehouse where the guys who hurt him work, trying to figure out their schedule, as they come and go pretty erratically. It’s been killing me to wait, but Tiernan is right—going in there half-cocked, without a plan or knowing who is there and when, isn’t smart.
“What? I’m not going to hit you!”
I give him a cocky, playful grin. “I know.”
“But you just said…” His mouth drops open when he gets what I’m saying. “You asshole! You don’t think I can hit you!”
I laugh. God, he’s so fucking cute. “I feel like I’m a bad influence on you. You’re cursing more.”
“I’ve always cursed. Just not a lot. And I rarely say the f-word. You say it enough for both of us.”
“It’s my favorite word.” I hook my finger in his belt loop, tug him closer, and kiss him. “Now try to hit me.”
“I’m not going to—” Ollie swings instead of finishing his sentence, but I block the punch. “How did you know?”
“You looked down at your hand before you hit me. Don’tdo that. Plus, you look nervous as shit.”
“Well, I am nervous! I’m not you and Dean. I don’t just walk around hitting people I care about.”
Last year, Dean got pissed at me when we were in their dorm and punched me in front of Ollie, who had been obviously confused because after we’d gone at each other, we’d left together to go to a bar. “He hit me first every time!”
“Not the point. Plus, I don’t know how to try and hit you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Jesus, my heart suddenly feels like a mushy bowl of oatmeal. What is it with this guy? As wild as it sounds, that’s not something I’ve ever really thought about. I mean, obviously, I wouldn’t want to hurt him, but hurting people has been a part of my life for so long, I don’t even think about it in that way. Violence is just a thing I do. It’s a means to an end. That’s not healthy, and I understand it’s not a good thing, but it’s also not something that’ll ever change. “If I have it my way, you won’t ever have to hurt anyone, okay? And how about for today, we focus on me showing you how to throw a good punch, and then some defensive moves. Does that work?”
He nods, then pushes his glasses up on his nose. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”
We spend the next hour working on some moves. He starts out pretty timid, but I think part of it is embarrassment. The longer I instruct him, the more he loosens up. Ollie asks a million questions about everything I show him, which tells me how seriously he’s taking it. He wants to do this, wants to be good at it, and he likes to understand all the steps involved. It’s just how he is.
When he throws another punch, I catch his wrist, turn him around, and pull him toward me. My arms encircle his waist, his ass against my dick. Honestly, I’d already been sporting a half-chub. Watching him turns me the fuck on, butnow I smell his sweat-tinged skin, hear a slight whimper whisper past his lips. “You’re hard,” he says breathlessly.
“Fighting makes me horny. What about you?” I slide one hand down the front of his body until I’m cupping his dick through his sweats, finding Ollie just as stiff as I am. “Such a dirty boy. Does fighting make you want to fuck too?” And God, I want to fuck him…so damn bad. It’s been killing me not to try, but I feel like an asshole. Ollie is a virgin. Sex probably means more to him than it’s ever meant to me, and though it would mean every-fucking-thing with him, it feels wrong somehow, like Ollie should give that to someone a whole lot better than me. Someone without blood on their hands and who can give him more time than me.
“Touch me,” he begs, sounding so fucking needy, I almost lose control.
“Fuck…so dirty. You want it right here? Right where anyone can see?” I lick my hand, then shove it down his sweats and underwear, wrapping it around his cock. He’s pulsing with heat, so damn hard for me as I give his cock a slow stroke. I rub my palm over the head, smearing his precum down his shaft to help slick the way.
“Yes. I love being your dirty boy. How do you do this? How do you make me feel like I’m someone else with you?”
I swear, my heart tries to beat its way out of my chest and into his. “It’s not someone else. I just unlock the chains you keep yourself in. You’re safe with me, Kitten, and you know it. What do you want? Do you want me to jerk you off like this? If anyone comes out, they’ll still know what I’m doing. Or do you want me to pull your pants down? Show off your pretty cock?”
“I, um…like this…for now…”
