KYLE: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 4)

by Glenna Sinclair

  When she turned and spotted me, a shy smile slipped over her full lips. She moved to cover herself with her hands, but then she stopped. I could see that it was a little bit of an effort, but she moved her hands away from her lower belly and stood with her fists balled at her sides. And it was a beautiful sight. Her full breasts, her smooth, flat belly, her lovely waist and rounded hips. If not for the need that was building like a fire in my balls and cock, I might have been content to stand there and watch all night.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “I just wanted a shower.”

  “Of course I don’t mind. You can do as you please in my house.”

  “I just…”

  I crossed to her, took her face between my hands. She looked up at me, a little shyness filling her eyes. She hadn’t been nearly this shy our first night together. And in the car, behind the bar, there’d been no reservation in her then. But I could feel the difference in the way she touched me, her hands moving very slowly over my sides, down along my hips. And her kiss. There was hesitation in her kiss that made my breath ache in my throat.

  I pushed her back against the wall, sliding her over just enough so that the water didn’t drown her. I kissed her as if she was the first drink of water I’d had in years. She responded, lifting her hands to bury her fingers in my hair.

  “I want you,” I whispered against her ear.

  She stared up at me, as though she couldn’t believe what I’d said. But I meant every word of it; I meant it with every fiber of my being. She was so beautiful, so perfect in the way she felt, the way she looked, the way she made me feel. I’d never been this immediately drawn to a woman before. There was something about Joanne that, even after just the few days I’d known her, I knew I wanted her in my bed more often than not.

  I ran my mouth over her jaw, along the curve just below her ear. I nibbled at the corner of her chin. Ran my tongue down along the length of her throat. She sighed when I took one of her nipples into my mouth, when I ran my tongue under the weight of her breast. Then other side, her fingers running through my wet hair, tugging me closer, as another sigh mixed with a groan slipped from her lips.

  She seemed a little surprise when I continued downward, falling to my knees in front of her. She brushed a curl from my forehead, pushing my head back so that I was looking up at her.

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  I groaned. “I haven’t done anything just because I had to in a very long time, my love.”

  I lifted one of her legs and rested her foot on my shoulder. Then I began to pepper her inner thigh with soft kissed, taking my time here and there, my fingers playing with the delicate pieces of hair that were wet and hanging free of her lovely, well-trimmed cunt. She leaned back, her hands pressed to the wall on either side of her body. My thumb slid down the length of her lips, encouraging them to part as I approached that place where her body opened to pleasure. I felt her thigh tense a little when my thumb disappeared inside, sliding into that spot just enough to cover the tip in her sweet juices.

  My body ached. I wanted nothing more than to jump to my feet and bury myself as deep as humanly possible inside of her. But I wanted to make her moan; I wanted to make her feel as good as touching her made me feel. I moved my other hand slowly up the outside of her thigh, then touched her with my other thumb, using them both to separate her lovely lips. She had such a beautiful cunt. Her lips were perfectly shaped, her clit elongated and swollen, peeking out at me like a pet playing peek-a-boo. When I touched my tongue to it, she stiffened, a long, low hiss sliding from her lips.

  I spread her open, pressed my tongue to that lovely clit again. And then I pulled it into my mouth, caught it behind my front teeth. She cried out as I rolled it around, rubbing it against my teeth and tongue. And then I sucked, and I thought she might fall over from the pleasure that turned her body rigid. But I was rewarded with a rush of fluid that danced over my tongue, a tingle that you couldn’t get from anything else moving straight through me and making a home in my balls.

  She was close. But I wasn’t sure how much I could take. As much as I wanted to see her come, I was growing desperate for a little relief myself. Yet, I couldn’t help but bury my tongue deep inside of her, roll it around a little to touch all those sensitive places just inside her entrance. And then back to her clit, back to that tip of sensitivity. She cried out, her body becoming a stiff board where it was pressed against the cool marble of the shower wall.

  That was about all I could take. I climbed to my feet, my hands tucked under her thighs, lifting her off her feet the moment I reached my full height. I slid inside of her with little effort and buried myself clear to my balls. She wrapped her arms around my neck, her legs around my waist, locking me in place for a long moment as her body adjusted to my girth inside of her. And then I started to move, thrusting firmly, but slowly, against her. She pressed her lips against my throat, then let them slide over my wet skin to my shoulder. She bit down, not hard, but firmly. And, with each movement, I could feel the vibration of her moans against my skin.

  It seemed like forever. It felt like we were connected in a way no one else on Earth could ever experience. It felt like this was the place I was meant to be, the way I was meant to be, for the rest of my life. It felt like all the pleasure and pain I’d ever experienced was mixed up all together. It was perfection and every flaw; it was happiness and every insecurity I’d ever known. It was indescribable, this experience. And it was everything. It was Joanne—and it was me. It was life, the life I wanted to have.

  And when it was over, when her orgasm rushed through her and she bit down on me, leaving marks on my shoulder, when her muscles jumped and constricted, tugging at my cock until I just couldn’t hold on anymore. When I came deep inside of her, filling her with a part of myself I could never take back, I collapsed against the wall for a moment, her body still cradled against my body. When the moment slowly let go and I was able to put a single thought together, I shut off the water and carried her out of the shower, wrapping a warm towel awkwardly around the two of us before we fell a little roughly onto the bed. She curled up against me, buried her head against my chest, and drifted off to sleep.

  It seemed like she was always drifting off to sleep when she was with me. But that was okay. I liked to watch her sleep.

  And she would wake soon enough.

  Chapter 19

  Joey

  I was giggling behind my hand, but Jason was laughing full on, not even trying to hide his amusement. We had the paper spread out in front of us, pictures of the attendees of the party last night displayed in front of us. There were quite a few of the two of us, walking into the hotel, his arm around me and my face hidden a little by his arm, standing in the lobby, me looking around like a lost child, and us in the ballroom, smiling and greeting other guests. There were pictures of Jason alone, too, when he was making his way to the stage for announcements, and pictures of him on the stage, speaking to the crowd. He was photogenic, though he didn’t believe it when I told him. But I was already planning on cutting these pages out of the paper at home and pasting them into my journal.

  Yes, I keep a journal. Don’t judge.

  “Why is it that there are dozens of pictures of me, but only one or two of Justin?”

  “He’s not nearly as pretty as you.”

  “We’re practically twins.”

  “No, you’re not.” I gestured to the newspaper. “His chin’s not as wide as yours. And he’s an inch or two shorter.”

  “Besides that.”

  “His eyes aren’t as blue as yours.”

  Jason shook his head. “That’s not true.”

  “It is.”

  He looked over at me. “So it has nothing to do with the fact that everyone thinks I’m going to give up my company to run the Wallach Foundation?”

  I lay back on the mattress and stared up at the ceiling. “Are you?”

  “Not anytime soon.”

 
; “Then why would they think that?”

  “Because my mom’s been telling people that since I graduated college. It’s her dream to watch me take over. I take her family’s foundation and Justin takes Dad’s business. That’s why they had two sons.”

  “They planned it that way?”

  “You’d think so by the way my mom is always talking.”

  “But they didn’t plan on you having dreams of your own?”

  “Pretty much.”

  I ran my hand over his arm, playing with the dark hairs that made his skin look even darker than it really was. “Must be interesting, having your entire life planned out for you.”

  “Isn’t yours?”

  I shrugged. “My parents just wanted to see us graduate college. I’ve done that.”

  “They had no career expectations for you?”

  “My dad’s a cop. My mom’s a cashier at the local Piggly Wiggly. They just wanted us to do better than they had.”

  “Then you’ve already exceeded their expectations.”

  “Maybe.”

  He leaned close and kissed the top of my head. “Enjoy your freedom, Joanne. It’s much better than knowing that you’ll disappoint someone if you don’t live up to their expectations for your life.”

  “Have you ever told your mom you don’t want to run the foundation?”

  “No. But I’m not sure she would hear me if I did.”

  He bent and kissed my forehead before turning his attention back to the paper. I watched him, fascinated by his features. I remember watching him come and go from the building when I first started working for JB Graphics. The other girls in my department and I would stand in the lobby and pretend we were busy with something—usually just pretending to wait for the elevator—and watch as he walked through the lobby, strutting to that private elevator he had at the back of the building. He always kept his eyes straight ahead—even though he must have heard us giggling and whispering. Classy, I remember thinking. He was classy to not respond to our immaturity.

  I wondered now how uncomfortable we made him when we did things like that. And I wondered how different things would be for me if he was a different kind of guy, if he was the kind who would have responded, if he was the kind of guy who would have worked his way through our little group, dating and/or using each one of us.

  I was grateful he wasn’t aware of just how beautiful he was. That he was kind and gentle and saw me as more than just a girl who didn’t know any better than to giggle when a handsome man walked by me.

  “Your sister-in-law remembered me.”

  He glanced at me. “What?”

  “From that night with the cake. She’s the one who let us in.”

  “Did she say something?”

  “No. Not really. But I thought you should know in case she said something to you or Justin.”

  “Sara’s discreet. She knows how to behave.”

  My eyebrows rose. “Is that an important character trait in the Brooks family?”

  He focused on me. “It might be.”

  “Hmm…”

  I climbed off the bed and started across the room.

  “Not that I don’t like watching you walk around my room naked, but where are you going?”

  I could feel heat rising on my cheeks, but I didn’t turn around.

  “I’m not the kind of girl who knows how to behave. So maybe I should be on my way out.”

  “Oh, well, it doesn’t take much to make a disobedient girl behave.”

  “Yeah?”

  He grabbed me from behind and lifted me off my feet. I expected him to carry me back to the bed, but, instead, he carried me to the small loveseat set off to one side of the bed in a little sitting area where his television was set up, throwing me over his lap as he sat. We were both naked and, already, I could feel his cock beginning to come back to life as he ran his hand over my ass.

  “A little spanking is always a good reminder to behave.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Don’t test me, my love.”

  He ran his hand over my ass and then smacked me, one quick slap that vibrated up my spine.

  “Hey, that hurt!”

  “It was meant to.”

  I tried to roll over, but he held me firm with an arm across my back. And then he smacked me again. I cried out—despite the fact that the pain was almost pleasurable as I felt him growing more and more aroused. And then he let me go. I stood, pushed out my bottom lips and pretended that I was deeply offended by the whole thing.

  “Sorry,” he said a little sheepishly. “I couldn’t help myself. You set yourself up so perfectly.”

  “Oh, so I brought that on myself?”

  He tilted his head just slightly. “A little.”

  I started to walk away, but he grabbed my hand and I found myself climbing onto his lap, grasping him and pulling him inside of me. He cried out as he made contact with my opening. I sank down against him, loving the pressure that offered a small bit of relief to my aching clit.

  “I won’t promise to ever behave,” I whispered against his lips.

  “Then I promise to always punish you just like this.”

  I groaned when I tried to laugh. But already pleasure was rushing through my body, the familiar tingles settling in my lower back. I was going to come, and it was going to be as beautiful as it had been every moment before. He could spank me any time he wanted—as long as he promised to keep loving me like this.

  Chapter 20

  Jason

  I woke alone on Sunday morning because Joanne worked at the bar last night. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have let her out of my sight. I wanted to hang out at the bar and watch her work, but she was afraid I would scare off her best tippers if they felt threatened by me. I didn’t see what was wrong with that, but she put her foot down—it was so cute when she put her foot down!—so I stayed home. Alone.

  I reached for my phone the moment I could focus, as was my habit, and pulled up the morning news. I was reading about the presidential race, the debates that took place just a few nights ago, and a storm that was brewing on the East Coast when an alert popped up.

  I have an alert set to let me know whenever my name appears on any internet page, whether it is in the context of a legitimate news story or on a gossip page. This alert had flagged a blog of some sort. My name rarely showed up on blogs that weren’t affiliated with a national publication, so I was curious.

  I touched the link and waited for the page to load. When it did, there was a picture of Joanne and me walking into the fundraiser. Underneath was the caption:

  Jason Brooks slums with employee.

  My heart sank. I knew immediately what this was and where it’d come from. Frank was once again trying to attack me where it would hurt me the most: my family’s reputation.

  But what really bothered me the most was found in the body of the blog post. It implied that I was somehow using my position as Joanne’s boss to force her to go out with me. To force her into my bed. Like she didn’t have a mind of her own or didn’t feel safe to tell me no.

  Whoever the author was, was essentially accusing me of rape.

  I climbed off the bed and headed for the shower. I needed to deal with this before it got out of control. But first, I needed to warn Joanne.

  It was a quick ride to her apartment this early on a Sunday morning. I hoped as I knocked on the door that I was waking her. I should have known better than that.

  She opened the door, dressed in a flour-covered apron, a soft smile on her full lips.

  “Hey, this is a surprise,” she said.

  “I wish it was a happy surprise.”

  A frown immediately creased her forehead. “What’s going on?”

  I gestured toward the living room behind her. “Do you mind if I come in?”

  “Of course,” she said, stepping out of the way.

  The apartment smelled like heaven. There was something baking, chocolate cake it smelled like. I walked over to the ki
tchen bar, wondering if she’d be terribly upset if I stuck my finger in the raw batter that was sitting in a bowl there.

  “Orange sponge cake,” she said, gesturing to the bowl. “We have a client who ordered chocolate and orange cakes for a nephew’s birthday party.”

  “Smells heavenly.”

  She smiled again, pleasure dancing across her face. “Thanks.”

  “If I’d known you were such a wonderful baker…”

  “What? Would you have wanted me to bake a cake I could jump out of?”

  “Maybe?”

  She laughed, and I found myself wishing I could just keep her laughing instead of having to dump the latest crap on her. Why couldn’t Frank just leave us alone?

  Because I fired the asshole for cheating my company, that’s why.

  “Is your sister around?”

  She shook her head. “It’s just me. She’s at her boyfriend’s.”

  She was carefully pouring the batter into greased pans, the beautiful orange silk of the batter falling like melted orangesicles. I couldn’t help myself. I stuck my pinky into the flow and licked the wonderful orange flavor from my skin. It was heavenly!

  “So what’s happened now?” she asked, as she dropped the bowl into the sink and turned back to face me.

  The look on her face told me that she had a good idea what was going on already. I’d shown her the picture that made its way to the internet on Friday. And she was there when Frank threatened me as I walked through the police station. She knew what was happening.