Page 55 of The Boss
Conall glanced at him and nodded. “Show me what this bad boy can do.”
“It’ll be my pleasure.” He started it up, listening to the smooth roar of the engine. He felt it right down to his bones, making a shiver run down his spine.
Conall stroked the dashboard like a lover would, his fingers caressing across the glove compartment. “She’s so beautiful.”
“I had no idea you loved cars, pet.” Sloan put his foot on the accelerator, revving the engine to get the right amount of rumble from it. When he was satisfied, he put it into Drive and headed out of the garage and onto the driveway that followed his backyard.
“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
“But I want to know.”
“Do you?” Conall frowned at him. “You chose me because I gave you attitude.”
Sloan hummed. “It’s true, but I went with my gut, and I knew you were something special.”
“What about your other pets? You haven’t told me about them yet.” He fell back into the leather seat, arms crossed. “I want to know what made you choose them.”
“They were gorgeous.” Sloan gripped the steering wheel tightly, turning a corner sharply and stepping down on the pedal. It felt like they were gliding on air. “I saw them and wanted them because of their looks, but they never had what it took to be my pet.”
“What does it take to be your pet, Sloan?” he asked.
“Passion. Fire. Good looks. Balls.” Sloan glanced at him. “And a nice arse. You have all of those things.”
Conall’s eyes met his with a sharp stare. “What happens when you get tired of me? Will you kill me or let me go?”
Sloan released the wheel with one of his hands and stroked his pet’s hair. The uncertainty in his eyes was adorable. “I will never get tired of you. Trust me. You’re perfect.”
“But if you do—”
“I won’t.” His gaze dipped to Conall’s pants. “Although I’m still planning on getting you into those leather pants.”
Conall snorted, but it sounded more like a laugh. “Tell me about the others, then. Why weren’t they perfect for you?”
“You’re very curious tonight, pet.”
He shrugged. “If I’m the pet you’ve been looking for, I deserve to know about the others and why they weren’t. How many have you had?”
“Four.” Sloan ran his fingers over Conall’s cheek and along his jawbone, before he returned it to the steering wheel. The Lamborghini had too much power, and Sloan wouldn’t risk his pet’s life by getting distracted by him. “The first was Abe. I didn’t know what to make of him. He was very different from you.”
“How?” Conall shifted in the seat so he was half turned toward him.
“He was all tattoos and piercings. His mother was part of the Harlot Queens motorcycle club up in New Gothenburg. His father was Irish, and they had a one-night stand, which resulted in Abe. He came to New York looking for his dad.”
“His dad was part of the mob?”
Sloan nodded. “Very low status, though. He was a drug dealer. Ran some heroin across the city to the addicts. Got us some fast money.”
“What happened to him?”
“His dad stole from us. Abe helped him.”
Conall cringed. “Fuck.”
“Fuck, indeed. Abe got the easy end of the deal. A bullet in the head. His dad was gutted like a fish.”
“Your dad did it, then?”
Sloan laughed. “No. I did.”
