Kayla meant the world to me. I was devastated when she told me that we were broken up. It was like that incredible sex meant nothing to her. How could she be so cold towards me when we had been through so much together? How could she do this to me when I sacrificed everything for her?
My instincts told me to forget all about her. There was plenty of other pussy out there to keep my cock warm.
My MC did their best to keep me distracted, throwing me party after party. I was shit-faced for almost entire week straight. But I couldn't get the image of Kayla's beautiful blue eyes out of my head. Even when a pair of giant tits were right in front of me, begging to be licked and sucked, all I could do was decline and go to my room to jerk off, dreaming of Kayla's soft lips wrapped around my hard length.
I couldn't handle it anymore. I needed to see her again. Tell her that she was mine now and forever. Would she see me if I showed up at her apartment door again?
I couldn't risk the chance of her shutting me out. It would break me apart. I had to see her in public where she had no place to hide or run.
The talk of the town was the art show. All the rich folks of Saint Marks would crawl out of their mansions, dressed in funeral attire to gawk at dried paint. Kayla wouldn't miss it for the world. That would be my perfect chance to strike.
I parked my Harley across the street from the gallery. I watched for any signs of Kayla. It would be ideal if I could pull her aside outside of the gallery. But I couldn't spot her through all the old people dressed in suits, valeting their expensive convertibles.
I'd have to go into the belly of the beast for Kayla.
I tried to march right in but my leather jacket and jeans gave me away instantly. A skinny man dressed like a penguin asked for my invitation and I politely shoved him out of the way. Nothing was getting in the way of what was mine.
I'd never been to an art show before. Paintings hung on white walls and a crowd of people were talking and drinking—doing everything but actually looking at the art. The free wine was welcomed. I needed some liquid courage to face Kayla again. I poured the white alcohol down my gullet and warmed up.
I searched for Kayla but couldn't find her. Maybe she wasn't here?
A painting of the Grim Reaper caught my attention. I usually wasn't into art but this was my kind of thing. It was so dark and nightmarish. A little placard under the painting said: Kayla Spencer.
She was here.
“What are you doing here, Rebel?”
I spun around to find Kayla dressed in a short black dress. It hugged every delicious curve of her body. She was so fucking sexy. My balls were like two fiery coals in my pants. It had been a week since our last time together. Way too long in my opinion. I could steal her away to the bathroom and hike up her dress to fuck her in the stall.
“I need to talk to you, Kayla.”
Her expression saddened. “Now is not the time. We're not together anymore. You can't just show up whenever you want.”
“I tried to respect your wishes but I can't leave things how we did back at your apartment.”
Kayla went to open her mouth but another deeper voice came from behind her. “Get away from my daughter, Rebel King.”
Mr. Spencer walked in between Kayla and I. He was exactly how I remembered—old and gray but powerful. He was the only man I was ever scared of.
When Kayla made me meet him for the first time, I was absolutely terrified. We ate dinner at her father's place, maids and butlers serving our every need. I was completely out of place and Mr. Spencer knew it.
When Kayla went to the bathroom, he had no qualms about telling me how it was. “Mr. King, you're no good for my daughter. Kayla deserves the best and I won't let a scoundrel like you near her. If money will get you away then name your price.”
If it had been anyone else, I would've taken my gun and put it in their mouth until they begged for mercy. But I couldn't do that to her father.
“You don't know me, Mr. Spencer. No amount of money will make me stop seeing your daughter. And we'll continue seeing each other whether you approve or not.”
Kayla came back to the dinner table before the discussion could get even more heated. But now here he was, standing in front of me, getting between Kayla and I again.
“This is none of your business, Mr. Spencer. This is between Kayla and I.”
His voice raised louder. “This is my business. She's my daughter. You're going to leave right now before I call the cops.” Mr. Spencer pulled out his cellphone from his suit jacket. Most of the art gallery crowd had turned their attention to us.
Kayla put her hand on her father's shoulder. “Please. Don't call the cops. He didn't come here to start trouble. Rebel was just about to leave.” She looked at me with those blue eyes that I thought loved me so much. But instead they were filled with embarrassment.
The skinny man dressed like a penguin pointed the security guards in my direction. It was time to go now. I left without saying another word.
Kayla and I were done now. I knew the truth deep in my heart. But I didn't want to admit it. Whatever love she had for me was lost when I went to prison. I'd keep my distance from now on.