Page 8 of The Boss's Christmas
If Conall hadn’t been a shameless man, he might have felt bad. He glanced at Sloan’s disheveled appearance, from his half unbuttoned shirt to the crumpled pants and underwear around his ankles, and he grinned.
“If pushing your buttons means you fuck me over a car, sir, I’d happily do it again.”
Sloan grabbed his pants, tugging them up. “I think we’ll have lots of fun in Miami.”
Conall certainly hoped so.
Chapter Three
In the six months Conall had been with him, Sloan had learned the way he ticked. Sloan was usually good with people and Conall wasn’t hard to figure out. He needed to submit to someone more powerful than himself, to teach him a lesson on respect. He craved it, but things had changed. Conall’s rebelliousness had taken a turn in the opposite direction since he’d been kidnapped by Toscani and it concerned Sloan.
Even as they sat on Sloan’s private jet, Conall’s quietness felt tense. He rested on the chair opposite to Sloan, with a book in his hands and his earbuds jammed in. It had grown beyond annoying.
Conall glanced up at him, lips pressed together tightly, before he stood and threw the book on his seat. “Bathroom,” he said, as though the word explained everything as he flounced past Sloan’s seat and headed down the aisle.
Sloan watched him until the occupied sign lit up above the toilet and then sighed. “Ronan.”
The guard looked up from where he sat on the opposite side of the aisle. He’d started to bulk up over the last few months, ever since the kidnapping, as though having more muscle meant it was less likely to happen again. Sloan hadn’t questioned it, though. He’d do anything to keep Conall safe.
“Have you noticed a change in my pet recently?” Sloan leaned forward on his seat.
Ronan frowned toward the toilet and then nodded. “He’s more reserved, boss. Quiet.”
“That’s what I’m concerned about. How did his conversation with Terrance go?”
Ronan’s wince said it all. “Not good. Terrance didn’t want to come to Miami, as you already know, sir, but Conall wasn’t happy about it.”
“Of course he wasn’t. He misses his brother.” Sloan stroked his chin. “Byrnes, call Rourke. Tell him I want Terrance on a plane to Miami by tomorrow afternoon. If Terrance refuses, I’ll put a bullet in his head. I won’t have my pet unhappy.”
Byrnes nodded from where he sat beside Ronan. “Yes, sir.” He stood and was already making his way toward the front of the plane, where they had a satellite phone.
The toilet flushed and the water ran before Conall exited, striding down the aisle before grabbing his book and plonking in his seat again. Sloan watched him for a minute before Conall sighed and glanced at him. “Yes? Did you want me to suck your cock or something?”
“I want you to talk to me, pet.” Sloan folded his arms over his chest. “I find your attitude has reached my limits, and I won’t be so lenient with you soon, pet or not.”
Conall’s eyes widened and he dropped his book on the table beside him. The plane dipped slightly, and he clenched his eyes closed for a short moment. He’d already told Sloan when they first got on the jet that this was only his second time flying. The first had been economy with his dad when he was a baby and it wasn’t like he could remember that.
“Come sit in my lap, pet,” Sloan ordered.
Much to his relief, Conall didn’t argue. He pressed his knees on either side of Sloan’s hips and sat his arse on Sloan’s crotch, arms slung around his neck. “Is this better?” He rubbed his cheeks over Sloan’s growing bulge and grinned. “Want to join the mile high club?”
Sloan grabbed his thighs, fingernails digging into Conall’s jeans to make him sit still. “No.” Then he glanced at Ronan and the other two guards who sat on the opposite side. “Give us some privacy.”
They vacated like they were asked to, leaving Sloan and Conall on their own. Sloan waited until they’d closed the screen that divided the sitting area from the eating area of the plane before he returned his attention to Conall.
“Talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Conall shrugged but it was halfhearted. He shifted closer as though he was going to kiss Sloan, but Sloan pressed a hand against Conall’s lips.
“Don’t lie to me, pet. You know I hate lies as much as I hate lack of manners. Either you tell me what your issue is, or I will give you a much worse punishment than putting you over my knee. And trust me, you won’t like what I have planned.” He didn’t knowwhathe’d do, but Sloan would think of something. It was mostly a warning anyway. Conall wasn’t stupid enough to extend this longer than it needed to be. “Is this about Terrance? Ronan said he refused to come.”
Conall sighed. “He’s a workaholic. I should have expected it.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. You’re his brother.” Sloan petted his cheek and up his chin. “But that’s not your issue, is it? You’re mad at me.”
Conall swiped his tongue over his lips nervously. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Sloan stared. If he did it long enough, Conall always folded.
