Broken: South Side Boys-Book 2 Page 10

  “Let me guess. You want to make a bet on this last game.”

  She nods, that devilish smile she sometimes wears appearing on her face once again.

  “I think so. We have a good history with bets over bar games.”

  “As long as this one doesn’t have me going to Nowhere, Wisconsin, for the weekend, I’m all in.”

  She slaps my chest playfully. “Oh, shut it. You loved going to the reunion with me.”

  I lean down and place a kiss behind her ear before I whisper, “I loved what happened after the reunion more.”

  She backs away, knowing I’m trying to throw her off her game with reminders of hot hotel room sex.

  “Okay, here’s the bet: if I win, you have to wear a Packers jersey to the bar the next time we hang out with our friends.”

  What? Why would she? That devil woman. She knows of my fervent love for the Bears. How could she even think of suggesting such a thing? You can get your ass kicked in Chicago for walking around in a Packers jersey.

  “That’s how you want to play it?”

  She nods enthusiastically, that devilish smile now a full-on evil grin.

  Two can play this game.

  “Fine. But if I win, the next time we’re out with the group, you have to wear a shirt with my face on it, along with the words Kalum is the best lay I’ve ever had.”

  She laughs. “And where would I get a shirt like that?”

  “I know a guy.”

  This earns me an eye roll. “Of course you do.”

  I grab my ax, getting ready to start. “Now, of course, we could change both bets and maybe wager something in the bedroom? Maybe I could put on the table the thing I want to do that you’ve told me you’d never do?”

  This eye roll is bigger.

  “Shut up and throw, West.”

  The game is pretty even as we come down to our fifth and final throws. I scored three points, which means if she hits five, she wins. She’s hit the center once tonight, so I’m not as confident as many would be in this position.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to change the terms of the bet?” I ask, placing my hands around her hips, bringing her back to my chest. “I promise, I won’t ask you to do the thing you won’t do. I’ll bet 10 coupons good for oral anytime.”

  “Is someone scared?”

  “Not scared, gorgeous. Just want to make sure you’re prepared to wear a shirt with my face on it and repeat over and over all night how great I am in bed. Just think: you could also bet me 10 coupons for oral. It’s really a win-win.”

  “Shut up and step back. I have a bullseye to hit”

  She winds back and throws the ax, and I swear I watch in slow motion as it flies through the air.

  And for the second time in a matter of months, I’ve lost a bet to Tori Brennan.

  25

  Tori

  Tuesday afternoon at the café is my favorite part of the workweek.

  It’s quiet, save for a few regulars, and I can get ahead with the paperwork I need to do and the little things that always creep up as the days go along.

  I grab an iced drink and my stack of papers and find a quiet table in the café. I could sit back in the office, where I know I won’t be disturbed, but I like sitting out here. I can keep an eye on things and it also makes me feel like I’m a part of the vibe I’ve worked hard to maintain.

  When Annabelle managed the place, she really infused it with new life. I’ve tried to continue that. I took Kalum’s words to heart when he teased me about the fact that I didn’t have any of Annabelle’s paintings on the wall. So we’ve started showing local artists’ work around the café. A few have even sold.

  I might not have written down “manage a coffee shop” when I was in the fifth grade and my teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up—I’m pretty sure I wrote actress—but I can’t see myself doing anything else. I’m happy. And that’s all that matters in life.

  Kalum: What are you wearing?

  Speaking of being happy, just that short text from Kalum makes my face glow. I can’t help it, because this guy right here is the other reason I can’t seem to be in a bad mood these days.

  Me: It’s 2 on a Tuesday and I’m at work. What do you think I’m wearing?

  Kalum: I’ve had a shit day at the garage. A guy got hurt, a few customers have been pains in the ass, plus there’s a problem at the new location, and Maverick had to run over to fix it. So I would like to pretend it’s not a Tuesday afternoon and I’ll ask you again: what are you wearing?

  Poor guy. I know he’s been under a ton of stress lately with the new location, and the rest of the stuff is just shit luck.

  Me: Well then, in that case, I’m wearing that red dress you like so much.

  Kalum: The red dress from your reunion?

  Me: Is there another red dress you’re thinking of?

  Kalum: Never. I’ll be an old man in a nursing home and still be able to vividly picture you in that dress.

  Glad to know I’m not the only one in this relationship who is going to hold on to memories until we’re old and gray.

  Me: You really like that dress, don’t you?

  Kalum: You have no fucking idea. When I first saw you in it, I wanted to tear it off your body with my teeth.

  Me: Well, I’m glad you didn’t. I much preferred how you took it off later.

  * * *

  And just like that, I’m transported back to that hotel room, pressed against the door, with my legs wrapped around Kalum like a vise as he ravaged me for the first time.

  Kalum: Me too. You should wear it for me again sometime.

  Hmm . . . now an idea is forming in my head.

  Me: What time are you done tonight?

  Kalum: Not until late. We got backed up today and a few guys are on vacation. I don’t know when Maverick is going to be able to get back here, so I need to stay late to make sure we don’t get further behind the 8-ball.

  Perfect.

  Me: That sucks. Sorry your day is shitty. I’m just sitting here going through invoices.

  Kalum: In your red dress? You seem overdressed for the occasion. You should take it off.

  Me: In front of all these customers? I don’t think that would help my Yelp rating.

  Kalum: Oh, it would go way up. But wait, that means random dudes would see you naked. Never mind. Don’t take it off.

  Me: What if it were just you and me?

  Kalum: Then you’d already be naked.

  Me: Oh really? And then what?

  Kalum and I have done a lot of things together in the bedroom. We’ve done positions that I didn’t think were possible, and I considered calling Cosmo just to make sure they knew about them. But sexting is one thing we haven’t done.

  I think it’s time to check it off the list.

  Kalum: You’d be lying on top of one of the tables, waiting for me.

  I look down at the table in front of me and my face heats up to a million degrees. Thank God the only customer in here right now has his head buried in his laptop.

  Me: They aren’t very big. What are you expecting me to do as I lie naked on a table?

  Kalum: You don’t have to do anything. It’s just the perfect height for me to sit, throw your legs over my shoulders, and eat your pussy until you scream my name.

  Oh. Well then.

  Me: Fuck, Kalum. You’re going to make me wet just sitting here.

  Kalum: Good. Now you’ll know what it’s like to be hard all the damn time because the mere thought of you makes my dick stand at attention. Right now, I won’t be able to stand for 30 minutes.

  Me: You started it with talk of the red dress. But just to let you know, I would totally help you out with that if I were there.

  Kalum: Oh really? I think since I told you what I had in mind, it would only be right to reciprocate.

  Me: I’ve always had a fantasy about giving head in an office. Me under the desk, you sitting in your chair. My lips wrapped around you as you guide my head up and d
own.

  Kalum: You know, that can be arranged.

  Me: You might have to, because now I’m also thinking about sex on your desk.

  Kalum: I’m thinking about sex on one of the cars.

  Me: I’m thinking about sex.

  Kalum: What time will you leave work tonight?

  Me: I’m done at 6.

  Kalum: Get your ass here by 7.

  I thought he’d never ask.

  26

  Kalum

  I swear to God, time wasn’t moving this afternoon. I looked at the clock four times and I’m sure it said 5:30 every time I looked at it.

  It had been a shit day until I decided to text Tori. Honestly, I wasn’t even expecting a hot-as-fuck sexting session, but it was just what the doctor ordered.

  Between the asshole customers, one of my guys dropping a tool on his hand, some sort of problem at the new shop, and a friendly text from Big Al reminding me of our additional night tomorrow, I was ready to snap.

  Talking to Tori calmed me down, until she ramped me back up in the best way possible. Now I’m about to snap if she doesn’t get her hot ass in here in the next 30 minutes.

  I need to keep myself busy, so I decide to slide under a Camaro. It might not be a Mustang—nothing is—but it will do the trick to keep myself from checking the clock again.

  I have no idea how long I’ve been down here when I hear the click of high heels. I made sure I didn’t turn on my normally-loud music, so I could hear when Tori came in.

  And from the look of the heels I’m peeking at from under the car, I’m going to like whatever it is I’m about to see.

  I roll out from under the ride and am met with quite possibly the sexiest image I’ve seen in my entire life.

  My girl. Wearing fuck-me heels and that goddamn red dress. Her black hair is shaping her face and her lips are painted a red that might as well be a cape for a bull. Her legs look so fucking long in those heels, and I can’t wait until they’re wrapped around me.

  She’s a vision. And for now, she’s mine.

  “Please tell me you didn’t wear that to work. Because I might have fantasized about it, but I really don’t need to be kicking a bunch of dudes’ asses for drooling over you in that.”

  She takes a step closer to me so I can almost see up her skirt. Almost.

  “I might have gone home and changed after our conversation today.”

  “I might approve of that. Now get over here, gorgeous.”

  She takes a few more steps toward me as I get up from under the car. Luckily, I didn’t get any grease on me, so I can pull her into me. As sexy as she looks and as bad as I want to fuck her—which is really, really fucking bad—right now I just need to hold her.

  I can’t wait for this shit to be over, so I can finally call her my girl. To be able to see her every day without the cloak and dagger. Hopefully after my meeting tomorrow, that can happen sooner rather than later.

  I bend my head down to breathe her in. Her smell is intoxicating. Her perfume is sweet and distinct, but not overwhelming. It’s unique—not like anything I’ve smelled on a woman before.

  It’s classic Tori.

  “You in that dress, in this garage, is bringing all sorts of dirty things into my mind,” I say before kissing and sucking on her neck.

  “Probably none dirtier than what I was thinking when I was putting it on.”

  I lift her up under her ass and she instinctively wraps her legs around me, our lips coming together as I lay her on top of the Camaro I’m working on.

  Yes, I’m about to have sex on a car. No, I don’t give a fuck.

  I push the dress up around her hips and notice another surprise.

  “Did you not wear any panties?” I ask, my voice growing hoarse.

  “I figured they would just get in the way,” she says, now trying to tear at my clothes—finding any skin she can put her lips on.

  “You’re right. But I’m fucking you on this car, in this dress. If you have a problem with that, you better tell me now.”

  She sits up and her hand finds my cock under my work coveralls. She strokes it through the fabric and I swear it’s so hard it could rip a hole through every layer of clothing I have on right now.

  “No problems here. My only question is: why are you still wearing all of these clothes?”

  I take a step back, shedding the coveralls. Our eyes don’t leave each other as I rip off the T-shirt and jeans I’m wearing. I’m not trying to make a show out of it, but Tori must like it, as her hand has glided down her body, her fingers now playing with her clit.

  “Tori, you are playing with fire there, touching yourself like that.”

  She doesn’t stop. She doesn’t even reply. She’s now taken it deeper, fingering herself on the hood of the Camaro as I continue stripping down. In every fantasy I’ve had about a woman and cars, nothing has ever, and will ever, compare to the sight before me right now.

  I stalk back over to her and bring her down toward the front of the car before I pull her up into a kiss so hard I’m convinced our lips will be bruised. We’re both turned on and a little desperate, but it’s turning into fire and passion that can’t be measured.

  “Let me taste.” I grab her fingers and suck on each one. Nothing tastes as good as Tori. Nothing.

  “Are you ready for me, gorgeous? Or do I need to double-check?”

  “You better check. No one gets me ready like you.”

  My pleasure. I take two fingers and insert them into her hot, wet center, working her up just like I know she likes it. Circles, rotating as I plunge in and out of her, making sure to rub her clit. It has her so worked up she’s all but bucking on top of the car. If she doesn’t watch it, she might dent it.

  “Kalum, I need you inside me. It’s too much.”

  “Not yet. I’m not about to let this vision go.”

  With one flick of my finger, her orgasm shoots out of her and she screams like she never has before. I make sure to bring her down from her orgasm, which I need for myself too, because seeing that was the hottest fucking thing.

  “Get up, Tori. One more fantasy I’m living out today.”

  “Can’t . . . move . . . orgasm . . .”

  “Well then, let me help you.”

  I pick her up off the car, only to place her in front of me. I lean down to kiss her, which seems to snap her out of her orgasm coma.

  “Turn around, baby. This is about to be hard and fast.”

  “Yes, Kalum. Please.”

  With her skirt still hiked up over her hips, I bend her down over the Camaro and this right here is what teenage boys dream about. Having a beautiful woman bent over a car.

  She’s my fantasy come to life.

  I grab the condom out of my jeans and quickly sheathe myself, needing to be in her more than I need to breathe.

  I slam into her without warning, which makes her back arch, and her ass come closer to me, if that’s even possible. The opening gives me the access I need to tweak one of her nipples, my other hand steadying the pace as I go in and out of her. I want . . . no, I need . . . it hard, but I’m not about to let this moment go in a flash. I’m going to savor every fucking minute.

  But what the mind wants and what I’m getting are two different things. The sight of her ass bouncing as I go in and out of her, the sounds she makes every time we connect, and the vision of this woman bent over a car is too much.

  “Tori, I need you to come again.”

  “Yes, Kalum. I’m so close.”

  This only speeds me up more. I slam into her from behind. The only sounds in the garage are our skin slapping against each other and the moans coming from Tori’s mouth.

  “Now, Tori.”

  She does. And so do I. I let go of the most intense orgasm of my life that I swear makes me see stars. I collapse on top of her, all feeling lost from my legs.

  “That was . . .”

  “I know.” Her reply says it all.

  I don’t know how long we lie on top
of that Camaro. For all I know, we drifted off to sleep, because I’m startled when I hear my cell phone ring. With Maverick’s ringtone.

  “Aren’t you going to get that?” she asks in her post-sex voice, which I swear one day I’m going to record.

  “It’s just Maverick. He’ll call back.”

  “But wasn’t he over at the other shop? Maybe he needs you?”

  The ringing stops. Thank God.

  “See? He’ll call ba—.”

  It starts ringing again.

  “Go get it.”

  I place a kiss on the back of her neck before reluctantly moving off of her.

  “What do you want?” I can’t help but be a little angry at my brother for snapping me out of the sex bubble in which I was very happily living.

  “We need to talk. Right now. I’m one minute from the garage. Just making sure you’re still there because I need some goddamn answers.”

  Oh shit.

  “Now? Can’t we meet at your place?”

  “No. Now. We need to talk.”

  27

  Tori

  As soon as I saw Kalum’s eyes go wide as he mouthed the word “now” to me, I knew I needed to move in a hurry. Never before have I run for cover so fast.

  Luckily, I took a cab over here, so I didn’t have to hide my car. I just had to make sure I grabbed my heels, which came flying off at some point, plus my purse and any other evidence of my presence.

  I hate that I’m now hiding behind one of the cars in Kalum and Maverick’s garage. It makes me feel cheap. I feel like some sort of dirty secret, and in the months that Kalum and I have been seeing each other, I have never once felt like a mistake.

  Until now.

  I suggested the office, but there wasn’t enough time. So here I am, behind a car at the far end of the garage, hoping Kalum can distract Maverick long enough for me to slip out.

  I know it was just last week that he said this secrecy would hopefully be over soon. I pray that “soon” is, like, tomorrow—because I refuse to be in this position again.