Page 81 of The Professional
“I guess you could say that. We’ll be trialing it at the Virtue first.” Conall glanced at Forrest. “What do you think?”
Rourke looked at him too, and the expression on Forrest’s face made his heart race. Face flushed with happiness and eyes flooding with tears, Forrest laughed. “You’re the best, Conall, you know that right?”
Conall shrugged, but his cheeks turned red. “I try.”
“I have to agree.” Rourke patted Forrest on the thigh, and they both stood. He walked around to the opposite side of the desk and held out his hand to Conall. “Thank you.”
Conall stared at his hand suspiciously. “Does that still have cum on it?”
Rourke chuckled. “Possibly, but let’s be honest, you’ve touched Forrest’s spunk more than once in your lifetime.”
Conall thought about it for a moment before making a noise of agreement. “That’s true.” He took Rourke’s hand and shook it. “You’re welcome.”
Rourke nearly didn’t get out of the way in time for Forrest to crash into Conall. They dropped to the ground, but neither seemed to mind as they laughed and hugged it out. The door hurtled open and three guards stormed inside. Conall held up his hand. “I’m fine. My friend is hugging me.”
They frowned but backtracked out again.
Rourke shook his head. “This is what I’m getting into, huh?”
Forrest and Conall continued to wrestle on the floor, and it looked like they were trying to fight over who landed on top. In the end, Conall won and slammed Forrest’s wrists against the floor. “Hah!”
Forrest groaned. “You suck.”
“A big cock, too.”
Forrest shoved him off, and Conall landed on the ground in front of Rourke’s feet.
Shell shifted closer to Rourke and stared at Conall and Forrest in confusion. “Um?”
“Don’t ask,” Rourke said as he patted Shell on the shoulder. “Welcome to the Exotic Virtue. You’re eighteen at least, right?”
“I’m twenty.”
“Brilliant.”
After some more thank yous, Conall left fifteen minutes later with the promise that he’d show Shell to his new room, Forrest’s old one. Forrest protested, but Conall told him he was no longer a professional, and thus he either needed to move into Rourke’s room, or use Conall’s old one, which left them in an awkward staring dance until Forrest said he’d be right back and left the room.
He came back with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
“Terrance’s again?” Rourke pushed the papers he’d been looking at on his desk to the side and leaned back in his chair, his fingers linked behind his head.
“I thought with him leaving, I should be allowed to steal his whiskey one last time.” Forrest sashayed over to Rourke in a dramatic fashion, his excitement evident in the way his walk nearly turned into a dance before he plopped his ass on the desk in front of Rourke. “We’re celebrating. I’m no longer a sex worker, but the Head of Professional Affairs. There are no more penises, except yours, and no more sweaty men, except you.” He dropped the bottle on the desk and set the glasses down too, pouring them both a drink. “I want to get drunk with my boyfriend.”
“Is that what we are?” Rourke asked, effectively making Forrest freeze.
“I thought we were. Am I wrong?” His worried expression made Rourke’s heart ache. He hated seeing it on Forrest’s face.
“No, you’re not, but you do know that you owe Conall, right?”
Forrest chuckled while he popped the cap off the whiskey and poured two drinks. “Yeah, and trust me, he won’t let me forget it.”
Rourke grabbed the drink Forrest offered him and took a deep swig, enjoying the smooth slide of liquor down his parched throat. He laid his palm on Forrest’s thigh, rubbing the rough texture of the jeans Forrest had managed to tug on before Conall walked in. The button and zipper were still undone, his trimmed pubic hair peeking out and making Rourke hungry to see more. “So, you’re my Head of Professional Affairs.”
“I like being under you.” Forrest shuffled closer to the edge and spread his legs The visible line of his half hard cock unrestricted by underwear putg Rourke’s own dick on notice. “What do you say, boss? Want to show me the ropes?”
As tempted as Rourke was, he knew a diversion when he saw one. They’d been avoiding the topic since the underwear store, and while he knew Forrest wouldn’t want to discuss it, Rourke also knew they both needed it. “Are you going to tell me about Diaz?”
Forrest’s nose crinkled and his back went stiff. “What about her?”
