Page 110 of Broken

My brows lift in questions, as I pop open the lid. Slowly, she lowers the bra and stands topless looking up at me. It’s hard as fuck, but I concentrate on taking care of the tattoo. I will not push her up against the wall and strip those shorts off her.

I’ve never fucked a woman in the tattoo shop, certainly not when they have a fresh tattoo I should have been covering. Definitely not smearing her cum over her tits so I could lick it off.

Recording that shit would have got me a code violation if anyone saw it. It’s one thing watching Calli pleasuring herself while thinking about me, it’s different watching myself do it to her. Who’d have guessed I’d be camera shy.

“What are you smirking at?” Calli asks.

“Nothing,” I finish up and put the lid back on. “Get dressed.”

“Huh?”

“Dressed, you need air. It will clear your head.”

“Why are you so determined to make my hangover experience miserable?”

I move behind her and slap her ass. “Dressed. Please,” I add. She’s about to say something but her lips clamp shut. Maybe she liked that. I fold my arms and give her a look, which usually has people shaking in their boots.

She salutes me. “Yes sir.”

Jesus. She saunters off, nice and slow, her top still off and her hips swaying. I’ll never let her see me smile, waiting until she’s gone down the hallway to her bedroom.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Calli

Two things are making this more bearable. Garrett is being nice to me, and we’re sitting in the shade of a tree in Patterson Park, looking at the Observatory building. We each have an ice cream cone. I gave him shit about it because ice cream is not healthy. He ignored me and bought them anyway.

His appearance this morning is still a shock. I’m moving a little quicker now but when I saw him in the doorway, it took me a while to compute he was real. And he cooked for me…

That is a real head fuck.

Sin and Ruby were trying to come up with ideas to get him interested in me yesterday. And here he is, showing up without invitation.

‘Don’t read too much into this’ is on repeat in my brain.

“Calli?”

“Huh?”

Garrett is leaning against the tree trunk, his head against the gnarled bark. He gives me a quizzical look.

“Don’t tell me you’re regressing after all of this.”

“No,” I shake my head. “What did you say?”

“I asked if you’d ever designed anything like this?”

We turn to the Observatory building. With my critical architect head on, I study the building. It’s a prefabricated iron superstructure on a granite base, made up of four stories, and topped with a conical roof. There are projecting balconies and windows all the way around.

The view must be phenomenal, but it’s been closed to the public for years.

“I can appreciate it for what it is, and the work that went into it, but I’d never design anything like it. Is this another one of your attempts to stop me giving up on architecture?”

“We came out for air and ice cream. It’s not my fault someone built a Baltimore city landmark right by where we chose to sit.”

“Nice try.”

“It’s the truth.”

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