Chapter 19
A poc stopped by about an hour ago, bringing with him a travel bag full of Toni’s things and a wicked attitude I could’ve done without. He didn’t speak to her, honestly, he acted as if she wasn’t even in the room. If I told him the truth of it, simply put, I don’t know it would change his attitude one bit. He was just a toddler when I went to jail, and he’d always blamed her as he grew up. The situation hasn’t changed for him. She’s still the root of all the things that collapsed our family.
Sitting out in the garage, he gave me an update on the club and how things were fairing, as well as J. It’s only been a few days, but Poc told me he’d made sure the nurses were paid out for the next two weeks, just in case.
When he finally left, Toni and I spent the next five hours poring over the book, all while she’d told me more about my Tristan. My son. Wow, that still feels surreal. The time passed as we made notes of our own, notes that would make a stronger man than me blush. Simply put; Claudine and Hylo were brutal.
“Your mom was kick-ass.” Toni was totally enamored by her tactics, even things as simple as rerouting another cartel’s supply chain by changing the underground tunnels was spectacular.
“She wasn’t what I expected. I had a different Mom in my mind. I remember the woman who would cheer me on from the sidelines and tell the ref off for bad calls. The woman who wouldn’t take shit from the guys in the club.”
“You sound as enamored as this Queen lady was.” Smiling, Toni gathers up the nearest scratch pad, scribbling a note of her own about the page we’re on. As I set Piper’s legend page between us, we’ve added six more symbols to its ledger. Writing them to the page, and deciphering more of my mother and the Queen’s intentions, her process of maim, beat, and bury had taken out more than one cartel. More powerful men than I thought possible had fallen to her feet in adoration. One “foreign emissary” had bestowed her a villa in the south of Italy, complete with staff, a fully stocked wine cellar, and a few thousand stocks in Ferrari, all because of a debt he’d owed her.
“I have a hard time believing all of this isn’t something out of Hollywood. This is unreal.” Pulling my sweaty glass of orange juice off the side table, I lean back with a huff before taking a swig. We stayed up yesterday talking about Tristan, and after a long daytime nap, the two of us pored over the book until it was morning again. Here it is the wee hours and we’re now coming up on a new day once more.
I wipe the wetness off my top lip with the back of my hand. “I always knew my mother was brilliant, but I wouldn’t have pegged her as a criminal mastermind. Learning the man I’d always thought of as my father is not, that’s harder to swallow.” Thinking about it all, I’m still processing the Huesos connection and how they connect to this Claudio and moreover, Murianos. “Am I related to the psycho who tried to pull our clubs to shreds?”
Did he know? If he did, that’s fucked up. If he didn’t, what happens when he does?
“And you found out you're a father. Quite the day, Quinny.” Smiling, she grabs her steaming mug of black coffee, swigging down a hefty gulp.
“I’m a dad.” Mirroring her reply, I scoff at it all, “Fuck.”
Toni places a marker in the book where we are, closing it. “Do you think he knows?”
“You mean Murianos? I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe that’s why he’s so hell-bent on destroying us.” I place the now empty glass on the table. “Thing is, he hasn’t made it known. I would’ve been the first he’d tell. He has a way of showboating.”
“Would anyone else know? Maybe someone from the club? Older members.”
Quirking a brow, her question piques my intrigue. “Maybe. Guys like Hopper have been around for ages. Not to mention Mayhem. He would’ve known for sure.”
“It’s not like Mayhem had treated you any differently. You were his son in every way. Personally, I don’t think Mayhem knew, otherwise, he’d have acted like you were an outsider. A bastard. I don’t mean that to be mean, but to be truthful. Mayhem is loyal, but he’s also pretty blunt.”
“True. Though you said your dad never treated Tristan any different. Maybe Mayhem just hid the truth too.”
She’s right. I may not wish to see him, or to hear his lies, but I need to see his reaction when I ask. It will tell me more than any words can.
“Feel up for a ride to prison?”
“Sure. But do you think you could give me a minute to shower and change? I don’t wish to wear the same thing I have for two days if I’m going somewhere.”
“Yeah. Sure. This time though, not a thin shirt. Wear something a bit more—”
“Appropriate for a motorcycle ride,” she replies. “Yeah. I get it. Though, in my defense, I didn’t know I’d be tossed on the back of your ride in such an expedient way.”
I give her a smile. “I put your bag in the room on the left.”
Leaving in the direction I indicated, she’ll figure out quick enough that I’ve sent her to my room. I’ll sleep on the couch if I have to. Poc, when he stays over, uses the spare room and he’s usually not alone. I wouldn’t put her in there.
Clearing the cups away and moving to close the book, absently I flip to the next page out of curiosity. Seeing a notation that has the same cactus symbol we’ve learned is Hylo, and a phone number beside it, I’m intrigued. It’s not a local number. I want to know though.
Pulling free my phone, dialling the number, and hitting send, it immediately rings with the international tone.
Once.
Twice.
Three times it rings.
As I’m about to hang up. “Hello?”
I say nothing. I’m in awe. I’m amazed. The sound of the person I long felt dead is speaking in a tone I’d so badly missed. The soft lyrical hum, the gentle whisper of her voice, the voice has not changed at all. I’d know her anywhere.
I’ve heard it in my dreams. My memories have rung with the sound of her singing me to sleep.
Just before I’m about to hang up, without thinking I ask with trepidation, “Hylo?”
For a moment she stays silent, processing the voice. Eventually her voice rents the air between us again, softly, questioningly, “Quinlan? I wondered when someone would find my book. I’m surprised though that you figured out the number and called it. I never expected you.”
Chewing the inside of my cheek, warring with saying something profound, or nothing at all, I stay quiet just with the thought of her voice coursing over the tiny speaker.
She continues, “You don’t have to say anything. Though, if you need anything, anything at all. Call me again.” She lets out a heavy sigh, as if she’s content with the world and me finally knowing she’s alive. “It is nice to hear your voice, Quinlan.” Without warning, she hangs up the line, ending the moment.
Pocketing my phone and placing the book on the table, the moment has had a profound effect on me, but also, it has given me further resolve to know the truth. Yes, I’ll admit I’m fearful of Mayhem’s gaze as he sees me, or as he tries to hide what I now know to be true. She’s not dead, and I bet he knew it all along. The book is a recounting of a woman’s life who I had thought long dead. A simple phone call has changed that historical truth.
I need the truth and my father is as real and as powerful as he’s ever been. Thankfully, the one thing he’s never been is a liar. He’ll voice the truth to me like firing a gun point-blank. Swift and without remorse for any feelings I may have.
With fifteen more years left on his sentence, there’s only one way to get in front of him. I’d sworn long ago I would be the last person he saw grace the prison for a visit.
“Ready?” Reappearing in the hall, she has her long hair tied back, wearing a tight, formfitting black tee shirt with stone-washed gray jeans. The outfit hugs all of her curves, accentuating every ounce of her beauty. One look at her and neither the phone call nor the visit to Mayhem matters. Wearing something so simple, Toni looks utterly stunning and the boy in me remembers how she felt.
How we were.
Biting my lip, feeling my cock rising to take notice, I smirk as I take two steps toward her. “If I were a better man.” Stopping short of stepping on her feet, I stand above her, looking down.
Softly batting those huge eyelashes, her simple grin says it all before she speaks, “You’re pretty great too, if you asked me, Quinny.”
“You broke me for all other women.” I play with the hair that lazily drapes across her forehead. “I’ve never kissed anyone since you. I couldn’t imagine anyone who would fit me quite the same as you.” Unable to curb my reaction any longer, grasping her by the nape of the neck, and bringing her closer, tentatively at first, I place my lips against hers. I gotta admit, I was expecting a slap. Toni surprises me though. She wraps her hand around my neck and toys with the thick necklace around my throat. In that moment, I know she is a slave to the same memories as me. Feeling her hand rise, feathering the necklace, Toni twists the gold links, playing with it. It’s as if a piece of our souls has been entwined once more and no time at all has passed between us.
Wrapping her up with my other arm, leading her backward, guiding her slowly down the hall, we bounce off of the walls. The feel of her, the scent of her perfume and her arousal drive straight to my core. Our lips never detach, and our tongues explore as if it is for the first time and the last. I have needed this more than air, and as the heat of our breath tickles the hairs on my face, so seemingly innocent, yet deeply erotic, my need for her grows higher. For years I thought of her as someone who had betrayed me. I’d thought of all the ways I could hurt her back, but I never acted upon it. I guess, in a way, I knew she never really deserved that hatred. Now, knowing the truth, knowing it was never her intention to hurt me, I need her more than I can speak aloud.
“Quinny,” she speaks my name on a sigh as I let my hands wander down her length. I reach for the button of those newly installed jeans. When her hips rise to meet me roughly, with a frenzied fervor my hands grasp the edges of the jeans to yank them down. Peeling them off of her until they are stuck near her knees, brushing my hand along her soft silken panties, peeling them away to access her pussy, without a second thought, I rip the expensive shit off. Hearing the material tear, and knowing what I want is now proudly naked in my hand, I cup her, feeling the heat rolling off of her skin. The trimmed, soft and silken hairs are neatly shorn around her lips, and feeling my way between them, I find the slickened heat of her arousal. Exploring as if it were the first time all over again, I ask, “Do you still think of me when you come?”
With her eyes trained on mine, she replies, “Every time, Quinny. There’s been no one else.”
Hold up.
Since we were teenagers, she’s had no one else between her legs? Or is it that she only thought of me? This gives me pause. “You haven’t had sex since I went to jail?”
“No, Quinny. I haven’t. The last thing I wanted to have was a discussion about my son to strangers, or talking to my father about my sex life. And honestly, there was no man who could take up real estate in this heart, because it’s always been yours.”
I’m speechless. “Then I’m not rushing the first time you’ve had sex in all these years.” If all she’s done is made herself come on her hand thinking of me, then I’m showing her what she waited for.
Wrapping my left arm around her waist, and the other under her knees, I carry her into my bedroom. No one but me has set foot in this room. It’s my sanctuary. I only fuck women in my apartment at the clubhouse, none have ever come here.
Laying her on the bed, taking in the moment, realizing she is here and this is not just another awkward dream, I contemplate releasing her legs from her jeans. Deviously, I figure if she hasn’t had a proper orgasm since we were kids, I want to make her come over and over. She’ll feel it in every inch of her body.
I’m keeping her legs locked up.
“Roll that pillow over your eyes,” I tell her sternly. “I want you to feel what you were missing for all these years.” With a smirk, she does as I ask.
Standing at the end of the bed, looking down, seeing her splayed out like a buffet, my instinct is to tear her apart. Having her writhing in ecstasy, calling out for me to release her, and hoping I’ll give her a reprieve.
I won’t. I want her to hate me for teasing her. I want her to feel that I didn’t give her enough, and yet it was enough that she cries out for more.
Drawing designs with my index finger along her still covered calf, her body tenses as she tries to stay still. “Don’t move, T. Stay still, stay silent. If you cry out, I’ll stop.”
Between shortened breaths, she gasps, “That’s not fair, Quinny.”
“I’m not going to be fair about this, T,” taunting her as I reach the bare skin of her thigh, I bend low and huff a breath on her skin. Even with the pillow over her head, I can hear her suck in a breath of shocked air. I smile.
Running my hand up her thigh, along the side, inching toward her hip bone, I take in the sight before me. The scar just above her hair shows the cut the doctors made to free my son from her body. The translucent scar shows its age. The dark tight curls that match the deep-chocolate hair on her head guards the entrance to the sweetest treat imaginable. I need nothing more than to dip my mouth into her soft folds. I want to hear her scream out my name as she comes. I want to remember this moment for a very long time.
Giving her hip bone a light squeeze, angling my thumb to graze the apex of her skin just above her neatly trimmed lips, I feel her body tense as I make contact. Raising her hips to meet my movements, I grin. Dancing my digits around her hot center, knowing I can make her come without even touching her is a boost, but I want her, all of her, and I want her needing it.
The thought of her being sexually tortured by my hand and no one else, for all this time, has me excited. Seeing the moistness glistening on the edge of her cunt, I relish the thought I was the last man to touch it in pleasure. That has my cock fucking rock-hard.
Resting my body across her bound knees, holding her in place, my knees settle into the soft bed as I hold her still. Taking my time, traveling up her body with my other hand, my eyes drink in her beauty. It’s insane how badly I want to have her come.
Holding her hips down, without warning I stroke my tongue up her supple lips. Parting them, tasting the sweetness, and hearing her suck in a deep breath, I groan between her legs. She is just as sweet as before. Juicy and perfect.
Licking, lapping it up, and stroking her cunt, I feel her body tense, trying to flee my attack. I hold her like prey. Captivated and captive, I lick every surface of her soft skin, making the bud of her clit rise to meet me as I taunt, tease, and torture it. I remember what it was she enjoyed, and it seems nothing has changed. Toni was mine then, and she’s mine now.
Lapping my tongue, flicking it, I hear her breathing pause. I stop my barrage and blow air along the skin.
“Please,” she begs quietly, breaking the rule I’d already laid out.
Nipping her clit, holding it gently between my teeth, I flick my tongue at the skin I hold.
“Fine!” she squeals in a high pitch. “Fine. I won’t again.”
Sucking her clit tight, I dance my fingers along her entrance. I know if all she’s used is her own fingers and toys for nearly twenty-four years, I need to make sure she’s able to handle being fucked.
Sliding in one finger and reveling in the heat, the tightness of her slick folds has my cock jumping at the thought of gliding back and forth within. Using a second finger, shifting and stretching her, I lick her clit to a heavy bud. I envy the motion of my hand and wish it were my cock coursing through her. Instead of harboring the desire to do so, I gently remove my fingers, and rock back on my knees to shift off the bed. Unzipping my jeans, I dropped them to the floor. As I stand here in awe of this moment, feeling how surreal this is, I want to enjoy every second of it. Sure, I’ve fucked many women, but only one held my heart. Her.
Pulling her jeans off the rest of the way, slipping them down, and edging her body to the end of the bed until her legs bend at the knees, her feet hit the floor. The pillow falls to the floor, revealing her cocky smile and a grin that says “I want it all.”
I smirk. “Just be patient, T.”
“Give me everything, Quinny,” she says through heavy breaths. “I want all of you.” Shifting to a seated position, with her hands behind her and her chest jutted forward, Toni is a sight.
Stepping between her legs, bending to face her, and kissing her lips deeply until her tongue dances with mine again, I cup her ass to shift her. I tell her the truth, “I promise to be gentle.”
Wrapping a hand around my cock, shifting so the tip is closer to her heavenly warm entrance, thrusting her hips forward. “I’ve waited a very long time for this, Quinny. Don’t make me wait longer.”
“Fine. But I expect screaming at least for my efforts.”
Pulling a condom from the box on my bedside, one I’d thankfully just bought the other day and had not taken to the clubhouse yet, I slip free the silken cover and place it on. I don’t see her getting pregnant, but I’d rather get tested before giving her an unsheathed cock. I’m always careful, but an STD is not what I’d like to give Toni on the first time out.
Edging myself in, not waiting for a second invitation, I move gently at first as she groans at the pressure. I push forward, sliding within the tight muscles, before pulling back and grinding my teeth under the strain of the slow motions. No one had quite fit me as Toni had. Like a bike made just for your measurements, Toni is the one body that suits my own best. She’s perfect.
Wrapping her arms around me, injecting her nails into my ass like a tiger holding its prey, she whines, “Please, Quin. Please. I need it.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. I need it, please.”
Fine. If she thinks she can handle it, I’ll give her everything I have. With a quick thrust, I can feel every muscle of hers warring with my movements. Shifting angles, driving my cock deeper, I give her every inch of my cock. Stroking back and forth until sweat courses my brow, I can feel every muscle of my own working to give her what she asked for, even as her tight folds pulse against me.
Feeling the pressure building, cursing it is coming so quickly, I slow slightly, hoping to stave it off. It’s been so long since something fit so right that I’m nearing the end faster than I wish to. Slowing to a near stop, hoping to make this last, Toni has another thought about it. “Don’t... you... dare.” Through quickened breaths, pulling me closer and raising her hips to meet me movement for movement, she won’t let me slow the pace at all.
“You’re so tight.” I tell her, in case she hadn’t realized my reason for slowing our pace. “This will be fast.”
“I’ve waited long enough, Quin,” she demands with a smile. “Don’t let me forget this.”
That’s a challenge I’ll accept.
Thrusting harder, faster, and with a determination to make sure she comes hard enough the neighbors call the police, I angle her ass upward to change the pace. I’m glad I have. Grinding my hips back and forth, feeling my end nearing, I bend forward to kiss her once again. Toni’s body stiffens, her inner walls squeezing me, and a simple squeak escapes her while her orgasm overtakes her.
With her body encasing me tightly. I find myself chasing her down the rabbit hole to ecstasy. Jerking back and forth with the final release that overcomes my body, I revel in the release.
This moment feels is as if we’d never been apart.
Kissing her on the lips once more, gently, I squeal out at the sensation of exiting her still pulsing pussy.
Removing the condom and tossing it in the trash beside the bed, in a ball of sweat and satisfaction, I wrap Toni up in my arms. The two of us lie silently in bliss. I’m not sure I can top this feeling. Or that I would want to with anyone else but her.
Give me twenty minutes though and I’ll try again.