Page 90 of Sweet Vengeance
“Mob years are double, so that really made us twelve,” Cillian explains.
“That’s not much better.” I shouldn’t be surprised at anything they tell me anymore.
“Anyway,” Rory continues, “there was this guy who used to come around back then…what the fuck was his name?”
“Fucking Ernie,” Cillian replies, and they both laugh.
“He was an ugly motherfucker. Real asshole. My dad eventually killed him.”
I gulp, pretending I didn’t hear that as Rory continues.
“He had a kid who was the same—Ivan. He was ten, I think, and he used to always break our shit.”
“All of you?”
“No,” Cillian says. “Just mine and Ror’s. Everyone has always known not to fuck with T.”
“The little shit would always deny it, but he did it on purpose, did it because he wanted to be close to Tiernan. He’d try and get us in trouble too. I used to have these model planes. My mom would make them for me, and he broke one of them. Cil lost his shit and attacked him. Got his ass kicked. Unlike me, he’d never been in a fight before.”
“And you had? At six!” Jesus, these boys and their life.
“He’s always been our wild one,” Cillian says with a smile. “But in my defense, my mom was really protective and shit back then.”
“You don’t have to defend yourself for not having beatsomeone up in kindergarten, Cil.” I pat his knee. “Also, I love you for trying to fight someone four years older than you for your friend.” That really is Cillian, though—loyal to the core.
“I’m fucking sweet. I can’t help it.”
“Shh. Let me finish my story,” Rory complains. “So the next time, we went after him together. Our little asses jumped him and beat the shit out of him, but it was mostly me. I decided after that to teach him what the hell he was doing. You can talk now. I’m done.”
Yeah, but I’m still trying to wrap my head around twosix-year-olds jumping someone else…and how that was actually their life. On the other hand, I’m oddly touched by the story—the two of them having each other’s back, even back then. “I’m not sure what to tell you other than that’s not the way it should have been for you or to say I respect you for being there for each other.”
“Two things can be true at once, remember?” Cillian takes my hand, threading our fingers together.
It can be…and often is. “I’m glad you two had each other.” I place my other hand on Rory’s thigh and give him a supportive squeeze, but then…then I don’t move it afterward. “Tell me more stories about little Cillian and Rory.”
Cillian tells me the next story, still holding my hand. He’s halfway through it when Rory begins drawing circles on my other hand with his fingertip. I gasp at first, and he stops, but when I don’t stop touching him, he starts twirling his finger around again.
Cillian finishes the story, and Rory launches into the next. They share fun, innocent things too, normal kid stuff, best friend things, and I’m glad they had that. The longer we talk, the harder it is for me not to focus on Cillian’s breath against my cheek as he moves in closer, his tight grip on me, tethering me to this moment, to him…and maybe to Rory too. Rory, who is so harsh in many ways, but whose touch is gentle…almost tentative.
Cillian leans down, swipes his tongue against my neck, then sucks my earlobe into his mouth. I gasp, warmth flooding my groin as what feels like all the blood in my body begins to congregate there.
“Is my dirty boy horny?” Cillian asks, low and in my ear.
“Mmm-hmm,” I manage to let out.
My body is buzzing. I feel light, almost like I could float away if it wasn’t for them.
Rory’s fingertips move up my arm now, all the way up to my bicep and back down again.
“What do you want?” Cillian asks, and I automatically spread my legs. Rory curses as Cillian dips his hand down the front of my pants, cupping my bulge through my underwear. “Fuck. You’re so damn hard.” I see him look up and know his gaze goes to Rory. “He’s stiff as a board for us.”
In this moment, I know what’s going to happen, what Iwantto happen. While it’s Cillian I’m in love with, tonight, here with them, it’s both of them I’m hard for, both of them I want to share this moment with.
“Can he show it to me, Bunny? Can he show me your pretty cock? Can he make you come for me?” Rory’s voice is thick with lust, huskier than I’ve ever heard it.
Cillian squeezes my dick tighter, stroking me through the fabric, making me leak and melt and crave more. “I want…” How do I say those words? How do I tell my boyfriend I want to have sex with him and his best friend? But then, thinking of it that way feels like trivializing it, making this smaller than what it is. This is about sex, yes, but it’s also about more.
“You want what? I need to hear you say it. You have to tell us what you want so we can give it to you.”
