Page 52 of The Professional
Rourke towered over him. Forrest should have been afraid because the brutal grip and eyes full of fury reminded him that as nice as Rourke was, he’d done things for the Killough Company. He never said what, but Forrest had an idea it involved killing and that should have terrified him. Instead, his cock rose to say hello when Rourke nestled closer. He curled his fingers around Forrest’s neck, not squeezing his windpipe, but heavy on his throat as a reminder that he could probably strangle the life out of Forrest.
Rourke’s eyes sparked with unbridled lust and ferocity, and this was the most dangerous Forrest had ever seen him.
“Have you killed a man, other than your father?” Forrest whispered, gaze roaming Rourke’s face. Desire prickled at Forrest’s skin and hot pleasure curled low in his stomach. He wanted Rourke again, even though his ass still tingled from their last round.
“Maybe,” Rourke said, his tone low in a way Forrest hadn’t heard before. The rough, deep tone made Forrest’s cock jerk in interest.
Forrest leaned forward, hesitated, and then grinned. “Are you a dangerous man, Rourke? Is that why Sloan trusts you?”
Rourke’s throat worked in a swallow, but the darkness in his eyes didn’t dwindle—
a tortured man fighting his inner demons. A sick part of Forrest wanted that kind of man to protect him, to hold him down and fuck him so hard Forrest would only ever feel Rourke’s cock inside him.
“Don’t push me, Forrest. I won’t be disobeyed.” Rourke sucked in a deep breath and took a step back, releasing his tight grip on Forrest’s arm and neck. It seemed he’d finally reigned in the monster he fought, the same one Forrest wanted to see released.
“I’m sorry.” Forrest touched his own throat, where Rourke held him. He didn’t understand why Rourke felt different. If Montague touched him like that, Forrest would have felt dirty and scared, but Rourke had a control that not many men did. Even though he fought with the inner beast, he owned a mental strength a lot of people didn’t have, and Forrest’s body reacted to it with his pulse racing, cock thickening, gut stirring with need.
Forrest reached down and stroked his cock. “Do you want to join me for a shower?”
Rourke shook his head and stepped back. Clearly he’d taken full control of himself and the uptight, rule-abiding boss returned. “No. I mean it, though, Forrest. Don’t go into another whore’s room unless you have permission. Whores aren’t allowed to have intercourse.”
“Haveintercourse, huh?” Forrest chuckled, rubbing his thumb over his slit. He shivered. “So proper.”
“Forrest….” Rourke’s jaw tightened.
“Angel and I were only talking. We weren’t fucking.” His fingers danced down the length of his cock before he wrapped them around the base. Rourke’s eyes didn’t leave Forrest’s face because the bastard knew what Forrest wanted, and he clearly wasn’t giving it to him. “Fine. No visiting my friends.”
“Good. Don’t forget about my mother’s dinner on Friday night. She’ll expect us there at six thirty. I want you ready to go at six.” He finally glanced at Forrest’s hold on his cock and grinned. “Dress nicely.”
“You say that as though I never do. I dress with brand names, thank you very much.” Forrest shifted closer, but Rourke spun on his heel and walked out the door of the bathroom. Forrest’s mouth dropped open, and he stalked Rourke into his room. “That’s it? You’re going to leave me hard and leaking?”
Rourke turned when he reached the bedroom door and smirked uncharacteristically. “Yes. Let’s call it punishment.” His expression changed to serious. “I mean it, Forrest, if you keep pushing my limits, I will give Ryder your room, and I’ll put you in the basement. Am I clear?”
Forrest folded his arms over his chest and pouted. “Fine.”
Rourke grinned again. “Good. Sleep well, you have another big day tomorrow.” Then he was gone, with nothing more than a click of the door behind him.
Forrest decided he fucking hated Rourke Tormey, and giving him his ass again wasn’t an option. His cock twitched in his hand and he sighed. Okay, maybe he would give Rourke access to his hole, only because he fucked Forrest silly in all the right ways. He was still allowed to hate him, though.
Chapter Eleven
Forrest ignored Rourke over the next two days and it amused Rourke. Forrest glared at him whenever he got the chance, or flounced around the Virtue like someone with a sizeable head on their shoulders. His sense of importance was more endearing than annoying, so Rourke let it go.
Terrance had also been pissed at Rourke, and Rourke didn’t blame him. He’d been an asshole and even though he’d apologized, Terrance felt he deserved the silent treatment too. At least he talked to Rourke when he asked questions.
Heaven’s body had been disposed of, and the whores held a small memorial the next morning where they talked about how lovely and kind Heaven was, even though she’d been anything but. Heaven’s bitchiness was legendary, snapping at girls who she thought stole her underwear and demanding the best of everything. At events like memorials, the bad qualities were never mentioned, however. Rourke felt it was a testament to the better side of people that they let all that go.
Conall and Sloan commended him and Terrance on a job well done in getting rid of her body. Rourke felt like shit for the way it happened, but a shallow grave for Heaven was the price when it came to overdosing on drugs she wasn’t allowed to have in the first place. Terrance didn’t come up with answers on how she got them, and all the whores claimed innocence on knowing any information. Rourke didn’t believe them.
By the time Friday swung around, he wasn’t sure taking Forrest to meet Mom was a good idea. Nadene Tormey was as religious as they came, and even one slip of what Forrest did would ruin the entire night. Rourke’s mother would kill him if the truth came out. It was too late now, though, and Forrest had actually looked excited about meeting Rourke’s family. When he came down the stairs, he had an extra bounce in his step and his eyes lit up in delight, and Rourke couldn’t come up with excuse that wouldn’t break his heart. Rourke smiled down at Forrest when he reached him.
“You look beautiful,” Rourke said honestly, staring at the green silk shirt he wore with tight black pants and shiny black shoes. He’d brushed his blond bangs off his forehead, held back by gel. He didn’t have any makeup on, but he was naturally gorgeous, so he never needed it.
Forrest’s cheeks flushed and he smiled. “Thank you. I can’t wait to meet your mom. I’m still mad at you, though. You’re an ass.”
Rourke didn’t comment because it would only start another argument, and he wasn’t interested in starting the night off with his date in a snit. “Come on, we should go.” Rourke led Forrest out of the Virtue, ignoring the sidelong stare Terrance gave them from where he stood beside Sam. No doubt Terrance would ask what they were doing later, and he’d answer truthfully, or at least, give Terrance half a truth.
“Are you driving?” Forrest asked.
