“I was here for moral support.”
As Annabelle starts listing all the reasons why I should go out with Businessman Ben, my phone vibrates in the pocket of my apron.
Kalum: When do you get off?
Me: With you? Usually in about 10 minutes.
Kalum: 10 minutes? I feel like I need to improve on that time.
Me: I do too. Maybe you should try tonight.
Kalum: I’ll be at your place when your shift ends. Save time. Take off your panties before you get here.
I just dropped the can of whipped cream I was refilling. And I couldn’t care less.
14
Kalum
Once, a very long time ago when we were kids on the South Side, I told Jaxson I’d do anything he ever needed. He had just saved me from a neighborhood thug—beat the guy to a pulp—and I was eternally grateful.
But never in a million fucking years did I think that one day that would mean coming with him to an art gallery to see his fiancée’s painting.
I’m going to have to tell him after tonight that the “do anything he needs” statute of limitations has run its course.
I, of course, expected a room full of weird-ass paintings and people who painted an entire canvas yellow or something and expected people to find “the meaning” behind it. Or some shit like that.
But when I walked into the gallery where Annabelle teaches, I was blown away.
You name the kind of art, and it was displayed. Paintings that had bright colors and distinct images. Sculptures that were so intricate I would assume it took years to perfect. Interesting metalwork I would totally hang in the garage. So here I am, actually not hating the fact that I’m in a gallery.
“Kalum! You made it!” Annabelle squeals and rushes over to me. I can’t help but let out a small smile as she brings me in for a hug. Jaxson is a few feet behind her, showing nothing but pride and love for his girl on her big night.
“Of course I made it. I’d never hear the end of it from that guy if I missed out on your night. Maverick, though, sends his apologies. There was a problem at the new location today and he couldn’t get away.”
She waves off the statement. “I know. He texted me his apology, which was super sweet of him. But enough chitchat, let me show you my piece!”
As we head toward her painting, she explains that the exhibit features only first-time artists—many of whom take classes at the gallery. Since Annabelle had never formally displayed any of her art before, the owner insisted that she show one of her creations.
“Here it is. What do you think?”
I think she is the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
Annabelle could have painted a picture of an orgy and it would still escape my notice at this moment. Hell, the Mona Lisa could be hanging there and I wouldn’t be paying it bit of attention. All I can see is Tori, looking gorgeous in a simple black dress and heels that look vaguely familiar.
This woman has become my favorite secret. Half of the reason I made myself stay away from her was because I knew once was never going to be enough.
I was right.
I want her every night. Hell, even if I had a fix of her a few times a day, I don’t think it would be enough.
But tonight is the first time since we began this plan that we’re both hanging out with our friends. And by the look Tori is giving me, she’s thinking the exact same thing.
“It’s great, Annabelle. Congratulations,” I say.
Short. Simple. That’s how I need to navigate this. Limit conversation to a few words about the art.
“Girl, I always knew you could do this,” Tori chimes in. “All that time you were wasting in the café with me and you could have been creating these masterpieces.”
Annabelle smiles and tucks herself into Jaxson’s side. “Yeah, but then none of us would be here. So I say that everything happens for a reason.”
Tori grabs a flute of champagne that a waitress carries by as I do my best to ignore her. Which is hard, because all I can think about is if she’s wearing panties underneath that dress.
“Kalum, you should really put one of these pieces in the garage. Maybe brighten the place up a bit,” Tori suggests.
“Maybe I should. Or maybe you should be a good friend and hang one of Annabelle’s paintings at Perks.”
“Are you suggesting I’m not a good friend?”
I didn’t mean to say that. I swear I didn’t. But at least now we’re fighting, which is better than eye-fucking.
“If the shoe fits.”
“All right, kids, that’s enough,” Jaxson steps between us. “For one night, I’d like you two to be civil to each other. This is Annabelle’s night. So please, be adults for five seconds and save the name-calling for the bar, okay?”
Before we can answer, an interested buyer comes over to introduce himself to Annabelle. Tori and I take that as a hint to give them some space, and we walk toward the back of the gallery where more pieces are on display. We stop in front of some sort of sculpture, but hell if I know what it is. We both look at it like it’s the most interesting thing here tonight.
“I’m considering withholding sex from you for calling me a bad friend,” Tori says in a whisper.
“I’m considering spanking you for trying to rile me up.”
She doesn’t make eye contact with me, but steps just a tad closer. I can feel her body heat now and it’s taking all the power I have not to touch her.
“I’m considering letting you. I think I’ve been bad.”
The volume of our words is low, but the tension is sky-high. I’m pretty sure I could fuck her in the middle of this gallery with an audience and she wouldn’t care right now.
“Do you want me to spank you, Tori?” I know beginning this line of talk is dangerous, but hell if I can make myself stop right now.
“I want you to do whatever you want.” Her breathy, quiet words are doing something to me, and I move to stand behind her. My dick is getting harder by the second, and I need her to feel what she’s doing to me.
“So you’d let me spank you tonight? Make your ass a pretty shade of pink?”
“Yes.”
“Does that make you wet thinking about it?”
“Yes.”
“If I felt up your dress right now, would I find you wet and ready for me?”
“Yes.”
Each answer is quieter than the last, but there’s no doubt she can feel how ready I am for her. How these words affect me. I realize how dangerous this is. That we could get caught by Annabelle and Jaxson at any minute. That other spectators could walk back and hear us. But I don’t care.
“Do you feel how hard I am, Tori? How hard you make me?”
“Yes.”
“After I spank you, I’m going to put you on all fours and fuck you from behind, so I can see that pretty pink ass as I make you scream. Do you want that?”
She can’t even let out a whispered response. All she can do is nod her head as she slyly rubs herself against me. I put my hand on her waist, giving the illusion to other patrons that we are just a couple admiring art.
Her hand drops down and slips behind her back, gently rubbing my hard cock through my pants. It’s my undoing. I’m going to come in my fucking pants if we don’t get out of here soon.
“Tori, go find Annabelle. Tell her good night. It’s time to leave.”
15
Tori
Thank God Annabelle was distracted by a potential buyer, so she didn’t pepper me with questions about my need for a sudden departure.
But after basically having an orgasm in the middle of the gallery just from the filthy words coming from Kalum’s mouth, I figured it was best for all parties if I made a quick exit.
We took separate cars to my place, not wanting anyone to accidentally see us leave together.
It was the longest 15-minute ride of my life.
I hurried upstairs, wanting nothing more than to be naked and waiting for him when he arrived
. But I barely had the chance to fluff my hair before my apartment buzzer went off.
“Who’s there?” It’s my turn for a little verbal fun.
“Tori, let me up.”
“You didn’t answer me. I asked ‘who’s there?’”
“Tori, for the love of Christ, let me up right the fuck now.”
“I’m sorry. I’m not going to let an unidentified man into the building. You could be a thief. Or a murderer. So, I’ll ask again, who is it?”
I swear I hear a growl before he answers. “I’m the man who is going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to answer the door tomorrow because you won’t be able to walk. So, I say again, let me the fuck inside. Right. Now.”
Well, in that case . . .
Considering I live on the second floor, it doesn’t take long for him to make his way up. And I barely have the door open to let him inside before he comes tearing in, slamming it shut and grabbing my waist, pulling me against his hard chest.
“Just to let you know, your neighbor now knows what we’ll be doing tonight. He might have been behind me at the intercom.”
I slip my hands up his chest and link them behind his neck. “Well, let’s make sure we don’t disappoint.”
My words snap the last thread of resolve we have. Our lips and tongues can’t find each other fast enough. Our hands are all over the place, simultaneously touching every part we can while also trying to get rid of the clothes keeping us from what we really want.
Kalum breaks the kiss and grabs my hand, pulling me back to my bedroom.
His words from the gallery tonight are circling in my brain, and I’d be a fucking liar if I didn’t want him to recreate every single syllable. I’ve never been spanked by a partner before, but with Kalum, I’m craving the experience.
He sits on the bed after removing his boxer briefs, leaving me standing in the middle of the room with nothing on but my bra, thong, and heels.
“I could stare at you all night.” His words come out gruff, but I can sense his desire as he speaks.
“I thought you had plans for me?” I say playfully, slowly making my way to the bed as I take off my bra. “I seem to remember something about making my ass pink.”
Before I know it, he’s grabbed my hand and pulled me onto his lap, fusing his lips with mine, quieting the giggle I couldn’t stifle. He might be thinking about doing downright naughty things to me in a matter of minutes, but this is the Kalum who grabbed my attention all those months ago.
This is my favorite Kalum.
As quickly as he kissed me, he ends it, and as if I weigh no more than a feather, he flips me over his knee, ass in the air.
For the most part, I’m confident in my body. But I’m nearly 5’9”. It’s not like most guys can pick me up without possibly throwing their backs out.
Most guys though aren’t Kalum. He’s never once made me feel uncomfortable in my body. He’s never given me a reason to doubt myself. And it makes me feel the sexiest I’ve ever felt in my life.
“Did you like teasing me tonight?” he asks, his voice hoarse and gruff. I love it.
“I did.”
Smack!
Holy shit. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. The combination of pain and pleasure is intoxicating.
“Do you like giving me a hard-on in public?”
“I do.”
Smack!
“Do you like sneaking around with me? Knowing we could get caught at any second?”
“Yes . . .”
That question doesn’t garner me another spank. Instead, I’m met with his fingers finding my soaking wet center and thrusting into me. My body jerks in reaction, but I’m now quickly meeting the pace of his fingers.
I can only imagine what this looks like: me across his lap, thong and heels still on as he finger-fucks me. But I don’t care. I have never felt more alive than I do in this moment.
“Kalum, please, I need more.”
“Tell me what you want, gorgeous.”
“I want you to fuck me. Hard.”
“My pleasure.”
He removes his fingers and gives my ass one more slap as he picks me up and pushes me onto the bed. For some this might be a little rough, but I’m loving every minute of it.
It’s animalistic. It’s raw.
It’s us.
“Turn around. I’m a man of my word tonight, and I need to see that ass when I fuck you.”
Slipping off my thong, but keeping my shoes on, I crawl up on all fours, waiting for Kalum as he slips a condom on his impressive length. I take a peek over my shoulder as he approaches. The look in his eyes is smoldering. And it’s for me.
All for me.
He grabs my hips, angling me back to meet his cock. I’m so wet he easily slips in, and it doesn’t take us long to find our pace.
It’s fast. It’s hard. It’s overwhelming. It’s everything I need right now.
His thrusts are so forceful I almost can’t hold myself up. But I don’t tell him to slow down or stop. I can’t. I need this too much.
I need him too much.
One of his hands comes off my waist and slides over my breasts. Without losing momentum, he brings me up to his chest. Somehow, he’s still inside me. And the angle is so foreign, yet so amazing.
“You drive me insane, you know that?” One of his hands is traveling down to rub circles over my clit and I’m pretty sure I’m about five seconds from the most intense orgasm of my life. “Your pussy is so perfect.”
His words might not be ones filled with hearts and promises, but they’re what I need to hear for my body to lose all control. Kalum soon follows as he collapses on top of me.
Our breathing is ragged, like we’ve both just finished running a marathon.
“I need to get up and throw away this condom,” he says, still lying on top of me.
“I need you to get up so I can breathe again.”
He laughs, rolls off me, and makes his way to the bathroom, but not without one more slap on my ass. Thank God he brings me back a towel, because my legs would not have been able to move to clean myself up.
As I snuggle into my bed, I expect to watch him put his clothes on, which is always the most depressing part of my nights with Kalum. But instead, he surprises me and climbs into bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Well, my plan is to go to sleep for a few hours, then do some more of that again. I mean, if that’s all right with you.”
I crawl closer to him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.
“Only if I get to spank you this time.”
“Gorgeous, I will let you do many things to me, but that will never, ever happen.”
“Never” lasted about four hours.
16
Kalum
If I could skip every Thursday on the calendar, I’d be a much happier man. Scratch that. Thursdays and Mondays.
Those two days are my hell. What I dread every week.
The days in between are filled with a booming business during the day and nights spent in Tori’s bed. An occasional visit to the gym with Jaxson. Shooting the shit with Maverick about cars and our new setup.
Those days are just about perfect. Then there are Mondays and Thursdays. Those days can go fuck themselves.
Those are the days that remind me of the kind of shit I’ve been getting myself into.
I’m dreading this Thursday more than others. Normally, just the thought of Big Al and his buddies pisses me off—one, because I have to do it, and two, for the reason behind it. But this night is even worse because I had to turn down an invitation from Tori, who explicitly told me through a series of text messages what she wanted to do to me tonight.
So now I’m pissed off and horny. A great fucking combination.
Like every Thursday, I stay around to make sure things are on the straight and narrow—or whatever that means when you’re working with a gang. All my employees left on time tonight and Maverick headed to his place after fin
ishing up at the second location, which is set to open in a few weeks.
I check the time and hit the record button on my phone. Five minutes to 10. Garage doors should be opening in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .
Like clockwork.
Big Al and his guys pull their cars in, and I notice there are a few more than normal. I don’t know what’s about to go down, but I have a feeling it’s nothing good.
“Kalum, not under a hood tonight? Hope we aren’t keeping you from any big plans?” I find it hilarious that Big Al insists on starting each week like we’re best friends. Like we have to make small talk. Not like this fucker is blackmailing me to let him use my garage for his chop shop.
“No plans, Big Al. Just waiting to see your smiling face. And I see you’ve brought a few extras in here tonight.”
He takes a few steps toward me, a few of his boys following behind.
“We need to talk.”
I lead him over toward my office, making sure we’re out of earshot of the rest of his crew, and in a quieter part of the garage.
“What’s up?” I ask. Not that I really want to know, but I guess I have no choice right now.
“Business is going well,” he says with a smug smile on his face. “This deal we have, I think it’s working out well for the both of us. Wouldn’t you think?”
Sure. You’re bringing in cash, guns, and drugs, and I’m trying to keep my little brother out of prison again. Everything is fucking peachy.
“What do you want, Al?” I’m not in the mood for his bullshit tonight.
“I’m going to need another night.”
I shake my head, making sure I heard him right. This wasn’t part of the deal. I was—I am—already risking too much.
“No. We agreed to one night.”
He walks over to me, his thugs in step right behind him.
Big Al might be a banger. He might make his living selling stripped cars for guns, drugs, and Lord knows what else, but he’s smart when it comes to this world. It’s why his boss trusted him to come here and make this deal with me.
Broken: South Side Boys-Book 2 Page 6