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“Judging by the tweed jacket and vest, a professor from UIC,” Rami replies.
“You need to stop sneaking up on people,” Michael complains, spearing him with an annoyed look.
Rami just shrugs. “The little minions have no intention of leaving.” He points to the hypnotized students listening to every single word Sari is saying.
“Of course not. Dr… Sari is talking about his research on skin regeneration and stem cells.” Michael quickly lets go of my hand and almost jogs to the group.
“His groupie vibes are scary. Careful Raph, you may have competition.” Rami’s smirk is replaced by an outrageous expression when Uri bumps hard against him.
“Aren’t you ever sick of your own voice?” he asks Rami.
“Aren’t you ever sick of your stupid dreads?” he retorts, throwing a quick glance at Uri’s long, rope-like strands of hair.
“Why are you here?” Uri asks him.
“Can’t I spend some time with my bros?” When we keep staring at him, he looks at me and adds, “Your donor. It has to be tonight.”
“You could have called him.” Uri turns his suspicious eyes on Rami. “Our lines are always secure, thanks to you.”
“What crawled up your ass this time? A Hercules Beetle?” Rami quips.
Already fed up with their banter, I grit my teeth. “I’m busy tonight.”
“Doing?” Rami frowns deeply at me. And I know why. I never pass up a chance at a donor.
“Now the fucker is flirting with your boyfriend as well,” Uri snarls, glaring at the professor talking very closely to Michael, while the students are filing out of the room.
With two steps, I reach Michael, wrap an arm around his waist, and pull his back against my front.
“Oomph.” He lifts his head and turns his confused eyes to me.
“Oh, Mr. Bear-Stone, thank you for letting my students come here today. I’m Professor Clayton from UIC.” The man aims an easy and charming smile at me.
“Always a pleasure to inspire fresh minds.” I turn into my engaging persona while stroking Michael’s skin under his shirt. The professor follows the movement for a moment before focusing his attention on Sari. Message fucking received.
They talk about a university symposium Sari has been invited to next month, which Michael seems very interested in. Uri interrupts them, announcing Sandy is here with our lunches. Professor Clayton says his goodbyes and leaves.
“Are you done marking your territory?” Rami lifts a brow at me, pushing two chairs near the empty table.
“Let Michael go and come eat,” Uri huffs, annoyed.
“I am starving,” Michael says, lifting his glinting cornflower eyes at me, a small smirk on his lips. I kiss them and let him go, but my hand goes around his nape, guiding him to the table.
“We need to work on your bossy caveman act.”
He can try. I’ll never be less possessive of him.
Sandy sets down four brown paper bags from Cucina, the Italian bistro around the corner, before leaving. Rami is taking the styrofoam containers out and handing them around. The smell of Carbonara and Lasagna quickly permeates the room. There aren’t enough chairs, so I pull Michael on my lap.
He wiggles his delicious ass on my dick, shifting until his legs are both on one side, and then offers me a forkful of pasta. I take it, relaxing back in the chair, with my fingers idly stroking his hip.
“Professor Clayton seemed very interested… in your research,” Rami tells Sari before stuffing his mouth with some pasta.
“Was he?” Uri spits out between gritted teeth.
An oblivious Sari frowns at him before replying, “He wants to talk about it at the symposium next month.”
“I’ll take you,” Uri promptly says.
