Page 9 of The Boss's Christmas
Conall touched Sloan’s shoulders and he carefully ran his palms over his arms to his chest, where he tugged at Sloan’s charcoal suit jacket. “Fine. Yeah, I’m mad at you. Why won’t you let me go to the Virtue?”
“You know why, pet.” Sloan frowned at him. “All you have to do is wait for me.”
“You’re always busy. One meeting after another. Which is fine, whatever, but the least you can do is make time for me to visit my family.” There it was, the animosity that Sloan had been waiting for.
Sloan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I won’t be questioned by you, pet.”
“You asked me what’s wrong. I told you. Don’t treat this as though I was disobeying your orders.” Conall crossed his arms and his jaw tightened.
“You’re right, I did ask you what’s wrong, and I’m sorry,” Sloan said gently.
Conall’s eyes widened. “Did you just apologize?”
“Yes.” Sloan smiled. “Because even mob bosses can admit to their pets when they are wrong. But only to their pets.”
Conall’s grin made Sloan’s stomach knot and his heart thumped a little faster in his chest, happiness soaring inside of him. “Good, because pets don’t like it when their mob bosses are arrogant arseholesallthe time.”
Sloan cupped his cheek and kissed him gently on the lips. Conall tasted like the whiskey he’d had as soon as they got on the plane. He’d obviously used it to steady his nerves, even though he hadn’t admitted that out loud. Sloan knew the signs of Conall’s edginess. “I promise you, pet, that as soon as we get back to the Hamptons, I will personally drive you to the Virtue and you can spend a week there.”
“A week? You’re serious?”
“Yes, provided you have an army of bodyguards with you. They’ll be standing guard outside your bedroom door while you sleep and outside the bathroom while you shower. They’ll follow you everywhere. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Sloan grabbed a handful of Conall’s dark hair and held on tightly. “You mean the world to me and I won’t allow an idiot to take you away from me again. So you will allow this protection, am I clear?”
Conall’s head bobbed and he grinned the widest Sloan had seen from him in a long time. “Yeah, very clear.”
“Good. And there will be no more of these outbursts. You may be my pet, Conall, but I won’t have you embarrassing me in front of my men. I’m still the boss of this company.” Sloan’s grip tightened, and Conall let out a beautiful hiss.
“Yes, sir.”
“How are you going to apologize to me?” Sloan raised an eyebrow.
Conall’s tongue darted over his bottom lip and he slid his clothed cock over Sloan’s. “I can think of a few ways.”
A buzz sounded above them and the pilot’s voice came over the speaker. “Mr. Killough, sir, we’re about to make our descent into Miami. Could you please fasten your seatbelts for landing?”
Sloan clicked his tongue. “Such a pity, pet. You’ll have to show me when we get to the house.”
Conall made a show of pouting and then slid off Sloan’s lap. He fell back into his own seat and clipped up his seatbelt before pressing the call button. Sloan knew what was coming the moment their air hostess came toward him. “A whiskey. Make it strong.”
The blond nodded with a curve of her bright red lips, and she walked back along the aisle at the same time Ronan and the bodyguards returned. They all took their seats.
Sloan, however, stood and grabbed his bag from the overhead compartment. He went to the bathroom and changed from his suit into something more suitable for Miami’s laid-back atmosphere. He didn’t have anyone to impress as soon as they got in.
He slid on a pair of cargo shorts, a navy Henley T-shirt, and his brown boat shoes before folding up his suit. He laid the expensive clothes back in the bag. When he returned to his seat, his new clothes earned him a wide-eyed inspection from Conall.
“You’re not wearing a suit?”
There weren’t many occasions when Sloan didn’t wear a suit. He was constantly on the move, meeting up with potential business partners or men he was already in business with, which meant he had to look prepared for meetings in case one came up unexpectedly.
“No. We’re in Miami, pet. It’s our vacation, we’re allowed to relax.” Sloan winked at him as he took his seat again and clipped up his belt. He turned to his men, who intelligently pretended they weren’t listening to Sloan and Conall’s conversation. It was their job to be invisible unless Sloan wanted something. “Gentlemen, Rosita will be waiting for us at the airport with the car. My pet and I will be taking it for a drive, but your attendance won’t be necessary.”
Byrnes cleared his throat. “Sir—”
“Fionn will be meeting us at the house. Go straight there and let him know my pet and I will arrive soon.” Sloan’s hard gaze left no room for argument.
Byrnes frowned at him. “With all due respect, sir, Ardan put me in charge of your security while he’s out on mission. He wouldn’t like me leaving you without protection.”
“He’d have me,” Conall said, taking a sip of his whiskey. His grin turned mischievous.
