Seal's Professor

by Piper Sullivan

  “Oh my god!” I cried out. The towel was damp!

  “Alana?” Irish called from the other side of the door, “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s horrible!” I shouted back.

  I saw the door handle jiggle, and I called out, “Don’t you dare open that door or I’ll stab you with a toothbrush!”

  “What the fuck’s going on?” he asked again.

  “The bloody towel is damp, that’s just gross!”

  “Seriously, of all the things you could complain about, it’s a damp towel?”

  I didn’t bother answering him. I patted myself dry with the drier parts of the towel and pulled the T-shirt on again. I looked around and realized that there was no hairbrush and only one toothbrush, and there was no way I was going to share that. Instead I took the toothpaste on my finger and finger-brushed my teeth.

  When I exited the bathroom Irish was standing with his hands on his hips.

  “I think we should start over,” he said quietly.

  I bit my lip and hugged my arms around myself, “I guess.”

  “Tomorrow I’ll go out and get a few supplies, so make a list of everything you’re going to need for at least a week.”

  “Oh thank god this is only going to last a week,” I exhaled.

  “No, that’s not what I said. We’ll be on the move, so for now just the necessities, food, snacks, toiletries and yeah, well that’s about it.”

  It was one of those awkward moments where there was a hidden apology somewhere in a completely irrelevant conversation.

  “I’ll make a list,” I said, instead of making this more difficult.

  Liam “Irish”

  This was fucked up, I couldn’t possibly be attracted Alana, not to mention Fergus’ daughter. And the fact that she was only twenty was another cause for concern. So fine, she’s legal with all the bells and whistles and she’s probably been around the block a few times at college, but I’m forty-fucking-two for god sakes.

  I just couldn’t stand being in that confined space with her any more than she could tolerate me, but in my case, it was for a completely different reason. Seeing her standing there, wearing my T-shirt with those perky tits poking against the white fabric and knowing she didn’t have a stitch on under there was fucking with my brain. All I could think of was that tight firm arse of hers under my palm and the way she squirmed each time I smacked her bare bottom. It would have taken nothing for me to touch her pussy and feel her up. As it was it had taken me more control than I thought I could conjure up to let her go after giving her, her first real hiding.

  Frustrated with myself I tossed her a small notebook and a pen and stalked out of the cabin. I needed fresh air, and the rain was no deterrent for me, it was like a much needed cold shower. Dragging my hands through my hair as I paced up and down next to the cabin, away from the window, I tried to just focus on shit. I promised Fergus I will keep his daughter safe, not that I would fuck her brains out. I had to keep my focus, or this shit was going to go pear very fast.

  “You can do this Irish,” I said out loud to myself, “Just look at her as if she’s your own daughter.” You don’t have a fucking daughter you fool!

  “Effing shit!” I cried out and rubbed my hands down over my soaked face. I had to get a grip and fast, not only was she a temptation she was a bloody distraction. The sooner we get Fergus’ name cleared the quicker I can get her out of my hair. Better yet, tomorrow when I head to town, I’m going to find someone to fuck and get my mind off this little temptress.

  After a while I headed back inside to find Alana sitting at the small table making her list.

  “Do you want something to drink?” I asked as I walked over to the camper cooling box.

  “Do you have anything other than coffee and water?” she asked.

  “I have beer and whiskey,” I offered.

  “I’ll have a whiskey,” she said, “Not that I’m a big fan but I need something stronger than coffee.”

  “Aren’t you to young?” I asked curiously.

  “I’m twenty-one and legal thank you very much,” she piped up and shoved the list towards me; I glanced at it briefly and then poured her a drink.

  “Do you have Cola?”

  “No.”

  “So how am I going to drink this?”

  “How else do you drink whiskey?”

  She did that eye roll again, and said, “Well then bottom’s up!”

  That eye roll of hers was starting to grow on me and fuck, it was sexy. I raised my glass and then tossed back the drink. Alana of course did not expect it to have such a kick, and after she took her first gulp she choked and coughed uncontrollably. I laughed and poured myself another.

  “Easy there princess, this stuff puts hair on your chest.”

  “Oh my god, you could have warned me!”

  I laughed and topped her glass up, “Now take it easy, take a little sip and let it lay on your tongue for a bit, then swallow. Once you get used to it, it’s actually quite pleasant.”

  She eyed me warily and then took a small sip. Her lips pouted slightly as she swished the amber liquid around in her mouth before swallowing it. Now if that was her swallowing my cum… Jesus Irish! I cursed mentally, you have to fucking stop!

  “That wasn’t too bad,” she said softly and took another sip and another. Soon she was telling me all about college and the frat parties, and how she found the boys her age to be far too immature and shallow for her to bother with.

  “So that’s the story of my life!” she slurred and flopped down on the bed, “Oops!” she mumbled and tried to pull the T-shirt down to cover herself up.

  “I think you’ve had a little too much,” I said and took her glass from her.

  “Oh come on, you’re such a sour puss, one more, then I promise to go to bed,” she begged.

  “I don’t think so.”

  I placed the glasses in the sink and then screwed the bottle top back on.

  “Ugh, for once in my life, I don’t feel like being the little good girl everyone expects, and now you go and spoil it!”

  This time she stood up and walked over to where I stood, those sultry eyes and plump lips of hers pouted up at me as she dragged her nails down over my bare chest. Note to self, keep your fucking clothes on. I grabbed her wrist and held her at arm’s length, “C’mon, time for bed.”

  “Or what, you’re going to give me another spanking,” she teased rubbing her arse cheeks.

  “Alana…” I warned and guided her to the bed, “Get some rest.”

  “Are you gay or what?” she piped up.

  “No, but you’re plastered and before anything happens that you would surely regret, I insist you sleep it off.”

  She took a deep breath and then flopped back on the bed, stretching her arms above her head. This time there was no way I could look away. Those beautiful ivory legs stretched all the way up to her hips, and her pussy had a slight dusk of red hair very neatly trimmed. I swallowed and tried to divert my thoughts, but it was useless. It was only when I noticed that she was hardly moving that I realized she had actually passed out. Thank fuck for that, I thought as I reached for the blanket. I gently lifted her legs, avoided staring at her pussy, and moved her on to the bed and then covered her with the blanket. There, temptation gone—NOT.

  I needed an effing miracle to keep my pecker under control around this one; I thought and went to sit at the fireplace away from her. But all I kept thinking about is burying my cock deep in her and fucking her until she couldn’t walk straight.

  “Fergus, you fucking bastard, what the fuck where ya thinking?” I said out loud.

  “Daddy…”

  I jumped up, expecting Alana to be up and at it again, but she was talking in her sleep and I sat back down. Why the fuck did Fergus not send her off with her aunt, at least that way she would be out of harm’s way and I wouldn’t be in this fucking fix.

  I must have fallen asleep at some point, I sat up and stretched my legs, sleeping on this ch
air was way too uncomfortable. I eyed the bed where Alana was still fast asleep and tucked under the blanket, then eyed the floor.

  “Fuck it, I need my sleep.”

  I got up and walked over to where she lay, I grabbed two pillows and stacked them next to her then I settled in next to the pillows. At least if she wakes up she can rest assured that I had her virtue in mind before taking up bed space. A few minutes later I was still wide awake, and the only thing on my mind was the red head with her legs wrapped around my neck and my tongue buried in her pussy.

  I’m not sure when I finally dosed off, but when I woke up, I had red hear stuck to my stubble and an arm and a leg draped over my torso. The pillows I had stacked between us last night were strewn on the floor. I tried not to move and disrupt sleeping beauty here, but I had to get out from under her before she woke up. Or before she moved her leg and dragged it over my boner. I gently hooked her hair with my finger and pulled it out of my face, and then I slowly took her wrist and lifted her arm. She groaned and moved and I froze, barely taking a breath. Easy Irish, you can do this, I told myself and then moved her arm again, gently placing it on her hip. But when I slowly shifted away from her, she mumbled something inaudible followed by a squeal.

  “Irish! What the hell… oh my god… did we… did you…”

  I jumped out of bed and grabbed for the pillow holding it in front of me to hide my morning glory, “Hell no, fuck, I swear I was only sleeping!”

  “Here in bed?” she asked with eyes wide open.

  “Yes dammit, the chair was uncomfortable, I stacked pillows between us,” I uttered.

  “So why are they not here anymore?” she asked accusingly.

  “How the hell would I know?”

  She groaned and grabbed her head, “Oh god it’s too early for this, I need coffee.”

  “Well help yourself darlin’, I’m going to grab a shower and head on to town.”

  I didn’t bother waiting for her response, simply tossed the pillow at her and stalked into the bathroom. It was insane, even the cold shower couldn’t tame the beast. My balls were aching and my cock was still rock hard, if I didn’t do something to remedy the situation now, I was going to be in a lot of shit later. My skin prickled under the cold water as I thought of Alana, she was indeed a temptation I did not expect. Just thinking of her body under my control sent my hormones into overdrive.

  I wrapped my fist around my aching cock and slowly slid it up and down from the tip to the base, images of Alana in the throes of passion, her mouth wrapped around my dick, my cock buried deep in that sweet pussy of hers. I kept trying to divert my thoughts to exclude Alana, and focus more on my physical release, but it was futile. I simply could not get her out of my mind. The fact that I had seen her naked from the waist down already gave me a sneak preview of what she looked like and imagining me thrusting into that soft pink pussy was driving me insane. Now! I groaned inwardly as I pump my cock faster, slapping against my balls and then finally, my balls tightened and my cock erupted, spilling cum against the shower wall. This time I groaned audibly as I pressed my head against the shower wall while I finished myself off, savouring the moment as my release left my limbs numb and relaxed. Hopefully this would solve the immediate issue I was facing, for the time being at least.

  When I came out, she sat with her head resting on the table, “Oh my god, I’m never having whiskey again, that stuff is poison.”

  “Yeah well your condition is self-inflicted. Listen, I won’t be long, an hour max,” I said as I grabbed my keys. While I unlocked my guns so that I can at least have some form of protection, I continued, “If I’m not back by 9am, you need to get out of here, a few miles south from here, past the oak tree is a hidden underground bunker. Go there and wait until someone comes for you.”

  Her jaw dropped as she looked at me, “Why wouldn’t you be back?”

  “I will be back, but I’m taking precautions.”

  “Okay but what if you’re not back by then and I’m stuck in some bunker, who will know where to find me?”

  “I have connections, and they know the drill,” I said, “Just promise me you’ll make tracks if I’m not back by nine.”

  I tucked my gun into the back of my pants, and then took out the Colt Alana was familiar with, “Here, keep this on you at all times, and do not hesitate to shoot,” with that, I dumped my bag back in the closet and walked to the door.

  “Irish…” she said, and I turned around, “Please come back.”

  My heart felt like a fist was wrapped around it, squeezing the air out of my lungs. She looked at me with such desperation that I almost opted to stay, but she needed stuff and I was going to at least help her out with that. This also gave me the time to try to find out where the Bronx Raiders were, and see if McLeary has managed to get any heat on them, or find out who exactly framed Fergus.

  I took my baseball cap off the hook next to the door and tugged it on to my head. In my line of work, being a hitman for a cartel, I knew better than to make empty promises.

  Somewhere in an abandoned warehouse…

  Blood splattered across the floor as another fist hit Sully’s face. His eyes were swollen shut and blood dripped from his nose and mouth. No matter how much they tortured him, he refused to hand Irish or the girl over to Shamrock.

  “I can make this easy for you, you tell me where Irish is hiding the girl and I’ll spare your pathetic life,” Shamrock said flatly.

  Sully struggled to lift his chin from his chest and peered at his nemesis through slits, “Fuck off,” and then spat blood all over Shamrock’s shoes. Dealt another blow and another blow, he knew he wasn’t going to last long. Irish was his brother in arms, and his mentor, and nothing anyone did or said would make him turn on his own.

  “You’re an effing dick, I don’t see any of your mates coming to your rescue, they’ve left you out to dry,” Shamrock ground out.

  Shamrock ran his hands over the cold scalpel and sighed theatrically. And then he nodded at Vince, his henchman. This was it, Sully thought and prepared himself for the worse. He had made peace with death when he first joined the Labyrinths Cartel, they all did. A sworn oath of blood to their brothers was far more valuable than life itself. He had nothing left to lose, they had already killed his wife.

  Orchestral music filled the abandoned warehouse, the acoustics causing it to echo in the empty space. Then Shamrock moved over to where he was tied up to the chair and dragged the blunt side of the scalpel across his neck.

  “I’m going to ask you one last time Sully, where is Irish?”

  “I’m not tellin ya anythin’ you can suck my cock for all that I care,” he gargled.

  Without a word, Shamrock pressed the cold blade against the top of his ear and sliced right through, cutting the shell of Sully’s ear clean off. Sully cried out in pain, huffed and cussed as he shook in the chair. The pain was excruciating.

  “Boss,” one of Shamrocks’ men interrupted.

  “What?”

  “The lad at the grocery store called, he spotted Irish there this morning so Irish must still be in town.”

  Sully cursed inwardly and gritted his teeth, what the fuck would Irish still be doing here in Boston? He should have been long gone by now.

  “Are you sure?” Shamrock asked.

  “Aye, he swore on his life,” the boy confirmed.

  “Well then I’m sure we will find him sooner or later.”

  Shamrock handed the scalpel to his henchman Vince and muttered a blank, “Finish him,” before pulling his leather gloves off and getting into the car parked a few feet away.

  The torture was finally over, and he would finally meet his maker and be with his wife, he thought peacefully. Even before the bullet penetrated his skull he already breathed out his last breath.

  Liam “Irish”

  I entered the Saint Lorde’s Catholic Church through the rear entrance and scanned the hall for anything suspicious. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, to my left I saw Fat
her Callaghan and nodded at him. We both entered the confession booth at the same time, and I knelt down and waited for the door to slide open.

  “Forgive me Father for I have sinned, it’s been two weeks since my last confession,” I whispered.

  “Why have you taken so long to confess your sins my son?”

  “I’ve been working very hard.”

  Callaghan slid a small piece of paper under the frame that separated the two booths and I opened it up, it read—The Shamrock is feeling lucky.

  I cursed inwardly and crumpled up the piece of paper. This was not good news, I needed to get out of here, get to Alana and hit the road. Hanging around was no longer an option.

  “I killed two men in cold blood,” I said.

  “Alright, say five Our Fathers for your penance.”

  “Thank you, Father.”

  With that, I waited for him to exit first, no tap followed and I knew I was safe. Without looking anyone directly in the eyes, I headed into the back of the church, grabbed a nun’s robe and cape and put it on. It was a wee bit short, but for the time being it would cover me, mostly. I exited the same way I came. Time was of the essence now. If Shamrock, the head of the Bronx Raiders, was still in town, it meant that they had eyes all over. Retracing my steps, mentally I recalled where I had been in the last two hours. But nothing suspicious stood out. I glanced towards where my car was parked and then looked up and down the street. I didn’t notice anyone lurking around, but I knew using the car would be too risky. Instead I scanned the street for another car. Luckily, I spotted a cab and I flagged it down. The cab pulled up, and I slipped into the back seat. Immediately I pulled out my gun and held it against the driver’s head.