Chapter 4

CHAPTER

FOUR

Cillian studied Anthony for a few seconds. The lighting was softer out there, the shadows more forgiving on the angles of his face. He didn’t look like a criminal, but then he hadn’t gotten his hands dirty. There was no trail of blood and no hidden gun. Most of the people at the party would’ve forgiven that faster because they were doing much the same as Anthony, and he served as bitter reminder of what happened if they got caught. Cillian wanted to ask how he’d done it and why but bit his tongue. The reasons didn’t change the past, and no justification made it right.

But ten years seemed excessive when there were people doing deplorable things, hurting other people on a daily basis, who got a few months, or a year or two. Hayden would never serve any time, no matter how many people he blackmailed. He had too much money and too much power and knew too many secrets.

All of which brought trouble.

What kind of trouble was Anthony? The fun kind or the dangerous kind? He needed to find out. If Anthony was happy to talk about what he’d done, then he was happy to listen.

“So you know all about me now. What do you do?” Anthony watched him. Something had changed in the way he stood. It took a moment for Cillian to realize Anthony had lowered his guard. He was no longer rigid, expecting the worst, and his body angled toward him as though inviting attention. “How do you know my brother?”

Cillian winced even though he should’ve expected the question.

“That’s a rather long story. Another night?” Did he want another meeting with Anthony? If they’d met at a ball or a charity event, and Anthony hadn’t done time, he wouldn’t be hesitating. What he’d done wasn’t violent, and he was intriguing. Cillian was in no rush to end their conversation and rejoin the party, and Anthony was more relaxed outside. To find out if Anthony could help him break free of Hayden’s influence, he needed to offer something of himself… a reason for Anthony to be interested.

“I’m a concert pianist, and I teach piano.” He was lucky to have a career that he loved, even if it was pieced together from many different areas. Quitting and doing something else wasn’t an option.

What was he doing ten years ago when Anthony was getting into trouble? He’d have been twenty, at university, enjoying the buffet Sydney had to offer a twink who’d escaped the farm and small-town life and was hungry to explore everything. Most of it was a blur. He certainly didn’t remember the news stories that must have been circulating. At that time, he’d been rubbing shoulders with other arts students, not the people who’d pay to see him perform.

He’d come to Sydney because his favorite cousin lived there. Had lived there. Six months before Cillian finished high school, his uncle had killed both his sons and his wife because he was having an affair and his wife had found out and tried to leave. He’d only gotten a few more years than Anthony. Four years for each murder.

The world was messed up. “What was prison like?”

Anthony rested his forearms on the top of the fence and stared out at the pool. “Like living on someone else’s schedule. Never being able to do what I wanted when I wanted. Every choice was already made. My routine was planned. Never knowing if today was the day someone might take a disliking to my face and try to fix it.” He paused and shook his head. “I lost a chunk of my life. I’m starting over at ground level, knowing that I’m the idiot who burned it down.”

Cillian had never visited his uncle in prison. The family had gone to the funerals, and Cillian had delayed uni for a year, drowning in what ifs—what if his uncle had waited six months and killed him too? What if he left home and something happened to his siblings and parents? He’d helped on the farm and taught piano to anyone who was interested, the same as his grandmother, before realizing he couldn’t hide and that he needed to stick to the plan and get off the farm. Not that he’d hated it, but fuck, the dating opportunities had been non-existent and the town gossip brutal.

He put his hand on Anthony’s arm, needing to touch him but expecting him to flinch. He didn’t. “You aren’t starting at the bottom . You have experience.”

He gave a choked laugh. “No one wants to employ an ex-con. I can’t work with money. I’m not trustworthy, Cillian.”

“You told me the truth.” Anthony had been more truthful with him than many of the people at the party. They were all concocting stories to fluff their feathers, and no doubt plenty of them broke laws every damn day and got away with it. Bribery and blackmail had different names when they involved the rich. It was called helping a friend , or getting the inside track …

Hayden had insinuated Anthony was dangerous, thus all the rumors about what he might have done. When, in truth, Hayden was the dangerous brother. He was cunning and sly and devoid of empathy. All things that made him successful and increased his power.

How many people would Hayden destroy if he went down?

It didn’t matter how many, only that his name was on the list.

Now that he had Anthony alone, he didn’t know what to ask, or how to ask. Because he didn’t want to admit what an idiot he’d been.

“I told you the truth because you asked. Plus, I figured my brother didn’t do me any favors.” Anthony nodded at the patio door.

Laughter and conversation filtered from inside. No one was looking at them, and Cillian had no desire to go in. The party was too loud compared to the peace outside.

He watched Anthony from beneath his lashes, not wanting to be caught looking. Anthony stared at the pool lost in thought. Cillian noticed an old scar on his cheek. No tattoos on his knuckles. Anthony’s hair was short and stylish. He was the kind of man who was easy to look at despite the hard edges… or because of them.

Cillian tried to ignore the heat sliding through his veins. He did not need to add to his list of mistakes. And he was sure Anthony would be one. How could he not be? Hot ex-con, and the younger brother to the man determined to make his life hell… What could possibly go wrong?

What might go right?

Anthony could be some short-term fun, and his only chance at getting something to use against Hayden.

Which made him no better than anyone else at the party.

Was this really who’d he’d become? Having a fling because of what it would get him? The thing was, until Hayden had accused him of that, he never had. It was his threats that made Cillian desperate for opportunities.

It was entirely possible Anthony wasn’t interested in him. He’d leaned into the artsy gay twink stereotype in his twenties. Before he’d turned thirty, he realized he needed to be suave and more sophisticated, at least when on show. He’d also become a lot more careful about who he slept with.

Cillian inched a little closer, both of them still looking at the pool. He wanted to turn and face Anthony to see if there was more than polite interest in his eyes. Was he gay, or was that something Hayden threw out as an insult?

But Anthony had taken his arm and hadn’t appeared troubled. Cillian regretted not taking a moment to pull out his phone and read some of the headlines.

“You’re not close with Hayden?” Even though Cillian rarely returned home, even for Christmas because Christmas events were easy money, he kept in close contact with his family, and if they came to the city, they stayed with him.

“Only when we’re fighting.” Anthony touched his cheek, tracing the scar with a finger. “I learned how to do a trick on my skateboard before him, and he threw the board at me. I was nine, he was thirteen.”

Cillian flinched. His fingers tightened on the stem of the glass, but his smile remained in place. “Did he do things like that often?”

“Only with me. I’m the spoiled baby of the family.”

“That worked out well for you. Means he’s planning a bigger heist so he can get a bigger sentence, right?”

Anthony gave a small laugh. “I doubt it, but he’ll want to make sure I don’t outshine him again.”

“And will you?”

Anthony nodded. “I’m not wasting another decade.”

Ambition, that was always in fashion. “Got plans? Need a sidekick?” He turned and leaned back against the fence, striking a pose, dangling his glass from his fingertips.

Anthony smiled and his gaze lingered, drifting from Cillian’s face to his throat. “I have a shiny new degree in librarianship. I’m not sure librarians have sidekicks.”

Cillian blinked at the blunt rebuff, then scrambled to recover. “Really?” That was the last thing he’d expected Anthony to say. “Librarian?”

“I studied to pass the time. I couldn’t use the gym all day, and I figured books were a safe career choice because of the whole money thing.”

“Ah.” Anthony must have spent a lot of time thinking about his options. Maybe that was the point of prison. Time to think about everything he’d done and what he was missing out on. Is that what his uncle was doing? “So where do you work?”

“I’ve only been out two weeks. I’ve only just started looking.”

Two weeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were so freshly free.”

“Freshly free.” Anthony gave a short bark of a laugh, grabbing the fence posts. “That’s a good way to describe it. The wound hasn’t scabbed up yet.” Lust shimmered in his blue eyes, but the rest of him was locked tight as though he needed to hang onto the pool fence for safety. “It’s taking a while to become accustomed to.”

“I hope you’re enjoying tonight.”

“I am now.” He glanced at the door as though expecting someone to come out and catch them any second, but no one was there. “Are you?”

“Yes.” Cillian leaned closer so their arms brushed, testing Anthony’s reaction. “Do you want to go in?”

“Not yet. Do you?”

“It’s a beautiful night.” Music danced on the breeze, the air smelled like flowers and the ocean, and Anthony watched him, perhaps trying to figure Cillian out. Cillian gave him another hint. “And we’re out here alone.”

Anthony lifted one eyebrow, then looked away, shaking his head. “Are you hitting on me?”

Too subtle? Him?

He could play coy, but he’d never been good at that. A little flirting didn’t have to mean anything. It could just be an evening of entertainment since neither of them wanted to be there. “Yes.”

Anthony sighed. “I thought I was reading you wrong.” His brow furrowed. “Why?”

Cillian shrugged. “Why not?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Do you need one? When was the last time you were kissed… or is that a ‘what happens inside stays inside’ question?” Cillian watched him, not sure how far he wanted to take this while at the same time wanting to see how far he could push.

Being outside with Anthony would irk Hayden, but that wasn’t the reason Anthony sparked his interest, especially now they were talking. He wasn’t like the other people at the party.

“There was no one inside, and there’s no one outside, either.” Anthony turned to face him. “So I’m very rusty.”

“I can help you clean the rust off.” The spark of lust grew under the warmth of Anthony’s gaze. “Was it hard to go without?”

“At first. But after ignoring the need, it went away. Mostly.” His knee pressed against Cillian’s leg. Would he move closer and slide his thigh between Cillian’s? “Is this some kind of bet or game with your friends?”

So Anthony hadn’t forgotten how to play the game, or what went on at these kinds of parties.

“No. Though I did promise to find out what you’d done.” Cillian tilted his chin to look up at him. The light reflecting off the pool made Anthony’s eyes bluer. It would be easy to fall and drown. He needed to stay in the shallows and keep in control.

“You achieved that a while ago and could’ve ditched me.” His fingers brushed over the sleeve of Cillian’s suit. His touch was light, tentative.

“That would’ve been rude, and I was having fun.” He leaned in and tilted his head, inviting the kiss. If Cillian had gone without sex for ten years, he’d have jumped on the first semi-good-looking guy who showed an interest. He’d have been on an app and arranging something the moment he got ahold of a phone.

Wouldn’t he?

Anthony hesitated, and Cillian was about to look away. He’d taken the chance and been silently rejected. That did not happen often. He was the one who did the rejecting. Then Anthony’s thumb swept under Cillian’s jaw, and he leaned down. Their lips brushed in something too soft to be called a kiss.

Yet it was enough that Cillian wanted more.

A little fling might be what they both need. Anthony didn’t draw back. There were only millimeters between their lips. Less between their bodies. Somehow, they’d ended up pressed together, leaving no doubt what Cillian wanted. The heat in his blood thought this was going way further tonight, and his dick pressed against Anthony’s thigh. If they were somewhere else, he’d have rolled his hips and started undoing Anthony’s buttons.

“I’m glad you didn’t. And I’m glad I came tonight.” Anthony kissed him again, this time without the caution or hesitation. His tongue flicked against Cillian’s lower lip. “God, I’m rusty,” he murmured.

“Not that rusty.” Cillian parted his lips and led the dance to deepen the kiss.

Anthony’s hand settled on his hip, but didn’t pull him closer. Cillian used the pool fence for leverage and ground against him, wanting to feel more of him. Anthony might be rusty, but his body knew what it wanted from the hard length trying to break free of his pants. Anthony sucked in a breath at the contact, but his next kiss was hungrier. There was a need that had been missing the first and second taste. He hadn’t forgotten how to kiss, and Cillian doubted he’d forgotten what came next.

His teeth raked Cillian’s lip before kissing it better.

Cillian ran his hand up Anthony’s arm; there was solid muscle beneath the suit. Another reminder he didn’t sit at a desk all day and only exercised when he did his half hour at the gym.

This wasn’t the kind of man he usually dated—he didn’t want to date another performer, and he didn’t need a sugar daddy, nor did he want someone who thought their money meant they took priority—but until meeting Anthony, he couldn’t have said what he was looking for only what he didn’t want, which wasn’t helpful. However, someone who was working on their own life, and not worrying about what others might think, held an appeal.

Of course, he’d known Anthony for less than an hour and might have read him wrong, or maybe they both hoped for the same thing when it came to taking their pants off. Not that he was about to ask about positional preferences tonight.

Anthony’s breath ghosted over Cillian’s lips, and he held him as though he wasn’t ready to pull away. Neither was he. But the party was still going, and they needed to go back in soon. And he needed to play, which meant he needed to drag his mind out of Anthony’s pants.

That didn’t mean this needed to end tonight. “We should get together sometime. Finish cleaning off that rust.”

“That sounds good.” Anthony rocked back, putting a small gap between their bodies, enough that Cillian no longer felt the length of his erection, which was a loss he silently mourned.

“Two weeks and you’re already assaulting a guest.” Hayden’s voice cut through the quiet night air.

Anthony jerked back; the moment shattering into jagged shards.

Cillian smoothed his suit. “Hardly assault when I wanted to be kissed.”

Dilemma raced across Hayden’s face. Did he continue to harass his brother or slink away having been corrected? His eyes hardened as he made his choice.

“You don’t have to protect him .” Hayden spat the last word.

“Him is standing right here,” Anthony said.

“And I am quite capable of making my own choices, Hayden.” Cillian said with a glare which from experience had very little effect on Hayden. Would Hayden threaten him, remind him that, with a few words, he had the power to ruin his reputation and career?

Hayden didn’t want to date him. Nor was it professional jealousy. It was all about control and making people jump when he snapped. He liked to pull the strings, and Cillian was choking on them.

“You don’t know him like I do.” Hayden took a few steps closer as he pointed at Anthony. “He’s bad news.”

Cillian glanced at Anthony. One of the brothers was bad news, but it wasn’t Anthony. He gave Hayden another attempt at getting out politely. “Are you ready for me to play? Is that why you came looking for me?”

Hayden’s attention snapped to Cillian. “Yes. Get ready. I’ll deal with him.”