Chapter 15
Having Kalen involved in the poker game was an invite of trust, to tell him I felt something special, even if there was a question in the back of my mind about whether other people would see the federal agent in him—although now, I guess it was me in him, and I hoped my smell had gotten all over him.
The underground poker games happened every three months, but this one hadn’t happened since my father’s death.
There was double the usual money, and that meant double the security.
The games happened inside the decorated underground basement of the Palazzo.
It was accessed through a secret door in my office, hiding behind the messy case of files and paperwork.
Once on the hinge, it needed an eight-digit access code and a fingerprint scan—only three worked now.
Mine, Santo’s, and Tomaso’s fingers. There were several other access points from the tunnel network, but the only way you could access the game was either through the Palazzo, or one of the doors opened for you from within.
Kalen’s eyes had never been wider—well, perhaps once in the bedroom, but for a different reason.
The room was decorated with red fabric draping the walls, and a vintage wooden cocktail bar where someone would work the evening.
Workers came here for big paydays. They signed NDAs and their heads were hooded before entry.
We had someone for the bar, and scantily clad women to handle the drinks orders and be arm candy—it wasn’t my preference, but this was all a service for them, not me.
And there was someone to handle the games.
For years now, Lorna had been the dealer, and she took no shit from anyone.
It was the first time, as brothers, we’d held the games without our father.
And I didn’t know why we were so worried.
Some of the men asked about Tomaso, some of them saying he owed them money, and some of them saying they owed him money.
He was the wild one, and we both had to lie and say he was out of state.
In reality, he was in the basement, tied to the wall, sleeping on an old, stained mattress and refusing to eat.
The people who came to play were all men, with the exception of one woman, Melinda, she was new money.
She’d recently acquired a string of properties north of Boston.
They arrived in their fanciest suits and elegant clothes, each one accompanied by a person with a metal briefcase cuffed to their wrist, holding at least a million in cash.
Kalen probably hadn’t ever seen so much money before. He was sitting in the control seat where all the security cameras from inside the room fed into. There was no recording, nothing was stored on them, they were purely for watching over the table at a bird’s eye view.
His job was simple—just watch, analyze their behavior, and make sure nobody was cheating.
I’d promised him a big reward for his work—even if he wasn’t going to take my money, he’d definitely take me, and I was more than ready to give until he couldn’t take any more.
After all the stress, and after all the pressure I’d put on myself. The night went well.
We netted over half a million from fees.
Some players went home with two briefcases, others with none.
Everyone had fun, and nobody started any bullshit.
My father had used to take a seat at the table as well, gambling away whatever money he was set to make.
Most of these events were used to pay down debts, do business dealings, or douse the fires of family feuds.
There was only one issue Kalen brought up, and it was his belly.
Something hadn’t agreed with him after my mom’s dinner.
* * *
Kissing him in the car ride back to my place, he was so sweet and giddy, leaning into my touch, and into my lips. It was probably at that moment I could feel him understand the business I was in, and whether that was illegal or not, it was an important part of the life I led.
Kalen giggled. “Half a million dollars.”
“Half a million,” I whispered into his ear as his skin prickled up into tiny lumps at the side of his neck. “There’s more than that.”
“In your bank?” he asked.
“Are you asking as Kalen, the guy I’m going to fuck tonight, or Kalen, the federal agent?”
He smacked his lips. “The guy you’re going to fuck.”
I pressed my face harder against the side of his cheek. “Good boy.”
We arrived at my apartment, and I saw the glint in Kalen’s eyes, the type that saw everything as being possible in life. The first time I’d met him, he was a bit lifeless, trying his best to get my guard down, to fuck me and do some cartoonish plan of finding dirt.
I chased him around the apartment, all hyped up on the excitement of the evening we’d had together. It had been less than a week of knowing him, and I was ready to lock things down—maybe not marriage, but it would’ve helped with the whole not testifying against your spouse thing.
We had fun. There was no denying the fun we had together now.
I might not have admitted to it when he first arrived, but there was something so uniquely fun about him that I was hungry for.
A hunger I’d suppressed with whatever expensive alcohol my father had in his liquor cabinet and cigarettes—although only temporary, since they were disgusting.
I could never quite enjoy the taste they left me with, or the rush.
Nicotine made my heart pound heavily and my palms slick with sweat, which in my mind was a bad substance.
“I got you!” Kalen said, jumping onto my back.
Slowly, I lay down on the sofa, not quite squashing him, but enough for him to giggle and struggle free.
I don’t think I’d really ever tested his strength, but I knew he had it somewhere.
A power strength, whether that was in his legs grappling me, or his tongue laying sticky kisses to my skin, and small suction marks as if he was an octopus with tentacles.
It was in that moment, in that heat, where I’d felt something so exciting stir within my stomach, that I said the words I thought would take months to be free from my mouth. “I think I love you.”
We stopped wrestling on the sofa. I’d said it first, or at least, I used think and softened the thought. Turning face-to-face with each other, he chewed his lower lip lightly and nodded.
“I think I—”
“You don’t have to say it,” I said through a cough, roughing up my voice slightly.
He shook his head. “But I do think,” he said, giggling. “And even if it’s only temporary, I wanna say it. I think I love you too.” He climbed onto my lap and hooked his legs around me once more.
My mouth was occupied with his neck, kissing away at all the sweated off lotions and cologne I’d doused him in. I carried him to the bedroom and threw him down onto the bed, landing right where his beat-up old plush cat lay with its two big black button eyes staring at me.
Kalen hugged the cat plush in his arms. “Are you gonna fuck me, Daddy?”
I smacked my lips and swallowed the saliva. “I told you, after the good work you did today, you’re gonna get a nice reward,” I said. “Besides, I’m thinking about turning that room with the handcuffs into a playroom for you.”
He perked up. “Really?”
On the bed, I parted his legs with both hands on his ankles. “As long as you keep being a good boy,” I said, working my way up his body until I was on top, my head at his chest, rubbing into his plush teddy. “We’re gonna have to put this away. I don’t want it to get dirty.”
Kalen was breathless. “Yes, Daddy,” he whispered, letting go of the toy.
Free to undress him now with no obstacles, I didn’t care about all the buttons on the shirt, tearing it open and letting them pop off across the bed.
There was a second layer, a white tank top.
“You’re like two-factor authentication,” I said, pulling a small part of the fabric with my forefinger and thumb.
He laughed. “You dressed me,” he said. “It’s your fault.”
“And now I’m undressing you.” The tank top tore like butter between my fingers.
I didn’t even have to pull it much, it just came apart.
I yanked the rest of it free until his lean muscular chest was exposed.
I placed a hand over the left-hand side, feeling his heart thump against my palm, faster and faster as we maintained eye contact.
“I’m all yours,” he said.
“I know.” I tongued his nipple until it became hard, gently biting and toying with it, leaving little red marks on his skin. Kalen’s legs wrapped around me once more, squeezing me like he wanted our bodies to become one.
He moaned. “Fuck me.” His voice turned to a delicate whimper. “Fuck me, Daddy.”
I placed a hand at his neck, grabbing him and feeling the sound of his moans through my hand.
He continued, so softly, as I made my marks across his chest, all the way up until his torso was wet from my tongue.
Kalen had tried undressing me in that time, but failed, only managing to pull the shirt out of my trousers, and with the way my cock pressed against him, he was unable to reach for that as well.
Turning him over on the bed, I pulled his arms out of the shirt and tank top remains.
I needed all the access I could get to his ass.
I kissed down the length of his back, tickling his spine as he tried to wiggle beneath me.
I got to his trousers, slid them all the way down his thighs to reveal his tight, striped, red-and-white briefs.
They made his butt look like a bubble, and I already had a thick stick to poke it with.
“Eat it,” he begged, his face in the pillows. “Eat my ass.” Often shouted to cuss someone out, it was now used as invite into his body—he’d already given me that, though.