In Too Deep (The Lovers Duet) (6 page)

I ABSOLUTELY ADORED making love to Linx and although all this turmoil was going on in my life and a huge heaping bag’s worth of colossal shit was hanging over my head, we still could fuck one another like we were the last two people on earth.

Sure, we were in love but there was nothing like a hard-core pounding to put me in the mood for my wild, aggressive side to emerge with a vengeance.

His cock pounded my pussy like I was a delicious morsel designed to be swallowed whole and his lips devoured mine in a lip-lock so sore and bruising, we felt like the same organism with four arms, four legs, and two distinct heartbeats joined together as one.

He easily hoisted me up and my legs locked around his waist when he wasn’t holding them open and holding me in a way that could keep me upright and allow him to watch all the action between us.

Linx tilted my head back and devoured my neck as the hot water began to turn lukewarm and all I felt was his beautifully marked chest against my sensitive breasts.

I hadn’t gotten anymore tat work done yet but he’d insisted I pierce my nipples so the pain and pleasure of our lovemaking could be that much more intense. My clit was also pierced and next up, was his tongue, and a pierced right nipple.

As it was, every time he buried himself inside me, I felt the tease of his dick against my piercing and the nub between my Brazilian waxed lips purred with pleasure. He had my motor revved and I was ready to go and dive in for seconds.

I clenched my vaginal muscles around his gorgeous cock and when he began to make me come only moments before his own orgasm seized him by the look in his eyes, we tumbled over that sexual apex together and the fall was absolutely magnificent.

Linx set me down on shaky legs before he grabbed the soap and began to clean between my legs as his semen ran down my thighs.

We finished our shower together in an efficient manner after our post-coital quickie and hurried out of the stall. I dried off, applied moisturizer to my skin and slipped my damp hair into a high ponytail while Linx began to dress immediately after drying off. He opted for a pair of faded blue jeans with tears in the knee and a black wife-beater while I pulled off club chic expertly in a pair of black jeggings and matching tank with a built in shelf-bra and all-mesh back. My tat could be seen clearly through the flimsy material but that was the point.

A hard knock jolted me out of my contemplation. Linx walked over and answered the door. A crimson-colored, humiliated-looking Quinn faced us.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve been through some tough shit.” I studied my face before I slapped on some cover up, added concealer to hide the dark smudges under my eyes before I finished off my look with a bit of red-tinted lip gloss.

“I have. Dad is fuckin’ pissed you two are taking so long.”

I wanted to say something quick and smart-assed but I kept my mouth shut as Linx grabbed my hand and we followed Quinn down to the first floor of the compound.

Although I wouldn’t call it a full out party, most of the members were there and with their old ladies. The single guys in the club were surrounded by a few choice Saint sluts. Neither alcohol nor was marijuana or cigarettes in short supply. I even spotted a little blow making its way around the room. Since when did coke become popular again? What was it? Some kind of bizarre eighties flashback I was having? Ironically, I wasn’t even born in the eighties so I only had old movies and books to judge that time frame.

Quinn pushed a skanky looking brunette away from him as she approached him. “Not fucking now, Laura.”

Her amber eyes darted our way before her eyes flashed with recognition. “Well dip me in shit and call it chocolate,” she said in an Irish accent so thick, it was hard to decipher what she’d just said for someone not used to the harsh brogue. “You’re fuckin’ Linx Carter from Winter’s Regret. Can I get an autograph later?”

I glared at Linx as he slipped into an easy grin and said, “Sure.”

We continued to follow Quinn but just to make it clear to these whores who Linx belonged to, I grabbed him by the waist and squeezed his ass. By the looks I received, they’d gotten the message.

“Are you sure you’re not the kid of some rogue biker your mother forgot to tell you about?” Linx whispered in a joking manner.

“Positive. If we should be questioning anyone’s paternity, it’s Trey’s. Why the fuck does Dizzy give a rat’s ass about him? He couldn’t stand my father even though my parents worked for him and yeah, he had a bit of a sweet spot for my mother but…none of this is making any sense.”

Quinn opened two double doors and a large room greeted us with an ornate Lucifer’s Saint insignia carved into it along with at least twelve comfortable office style chairs surrounding the dark oak wood.

Dizzy sat at the head of the table. Cillian and Quinn’s fraternal brother, Ronan, were already seated. Dizzy motioned towards two chairs, the backs which faced Linx and me.

“Quinn, close the fucking doors,” Dizzy remarked in a thick Northern Irish brogue he’d never managed to lose. “Please, you two, sit.”

Linx and I walked over but I sat at the chair cater-corner to Dizzy while he took the seat next to me. Quinn poured us each a generous serving of Macallan and the ashtray was pushed more toward the center of the table. Both Cillian and Ronan were smoking so Linx reached into his pants pocket and lit a Camel.

I swigged from my Macallan and stared at the man who’d demanded I meet with him or else. Up close, he wasn’t all that scary at all. He puffed on a Havana cigar but his clear blue eyes were determined. He was still handsome and sexy for man of his age and he had to be in his mid-fifties if a day. He didn’t look it with his youthful, lightly tanned skin, a nose that was slightly crooked and sensual lips that matched the most perfect cheek bones I’d ever seen on a man. He had a strong rugged jaw and wore a trimmed beard.

Dizzy, like Jonesy, had an old lady, Bronaugh. She was from Northern Ireland, like Dizzy, but she was a hard as nails bitch even though she had the face of an angel. No one would guess she was in her late forties because her skin was still beautiful, porcelain white and she had the most arresting amber-brown eyes and soft Irish features. Ironically, only one of her children had come out with her eye color: Jaden or Kaelan, which was his real name. All the others, including the twins, Misty—real name, Maeve—and Cillian had all come out with blue eyes. Cillian, Misty, and Quinn had their father’s eyes while Ronan had arresting blue eyes that looked to be on the verge of being violet; Bronaugh’s mother’s eye coloring.

She was a true old lady, quiet but commanding; she didn’t say much but then again, she didn’t have to. She knew about her husband’s illegitimate children and although it should have been a concern for her, she ignored it and
them
. The women were never a threat to her and Dizzy would never leave her. It was an unspeakable code that went way back.

Personally, I always thought she held something over his head to prevent him from leaving her but I had no proof. They’d been together since young teenagers while growing up in Northern Ireland and while I was sure Dizzy had never been in love with her, he did respect her and she was the mother of five of his children. The other two kids he had out there had different mothers and both had been pretty much club whores—or in Kaz’s case, a club mistress who’d served Dizzy only and eventually went back to her high society life once the true reality of club life had knocked her up and against the side of her head.

Bronaugh was perfect because she was strong-willed, held her own and everyone respected her. She had a no-bullshit attitude, a heavy Northern Irish accent and wouldn’t take shit from anyone, including club members and her children alike.

“So, are you the one who wears the pants in the family?” Dizzy inquired, breaking my concentration when I’d least expected him too. His blue eyes blazed into mine and I was the first to look away.

“No, I don’t. Linx is all man and he definitely runs the show.”

I knew where I was and what my place in this male-dominated life happened to be. I wasn’t in charge of anything and the only thing I could run was my mouth and that would dig a deeper hole for me. I needed to stay quiet, pay attention and listen.

“Then I politely ask for you to switch places with your husband,” Dizzy told me in a no-nonsense manner. “It isn’t that I don’t respect you but this is club business and usually women aren’t involved in any way, shape or form. I know what you have been through and that is the only reason why I am allowing you to sit with us in this meeting. Otherwise, I would have made you wait outside and Lennon could have informed you what happened after we finished.”

I changed seats with Linx and he flicked the ash from his cigarette in the ashtray. “I’m not a member either—”

“Not yet.” Dizzy put out his cigar in his own personal ashtray and glared at both of us. “Listen, I know the Carter family quite well. I have already spoken to your father. You two want to search for Trey…it’s understandable but this is
club
business. Although I cannot ask you to do my dirty work, you will become an honorary member of the Lucifer’s Saints if you want to help with the search.”

My heart beat so fast in my chest, it literally hurt. “Dizzy, you can’t do that. Linx is a member of a rock n’ roll band. He can’t be club member too—”

“Why not? Kaelan, aka Jaden, and Kasper are members. Besides, with the street cred your husband brings, I won’t even make him a prospect. He’s one hundred percent Irish and his father has gone above and beyond the duty for the cause of a United Ireland. Plus, he’s not as clean cut as you think, my dear.

“I know about your days as a street fighter in Boston. You were one of the best and remained undefeated when you decided to join a band and live out your rock n’ roll fantasy. I can see why you did it because you provided for your family and then pursued your own dreams. I respect that in a man.”

My mouth gaped open.

Linx’s father had “fought for the cause of a United Ireland?” Key words the man had been a heavy supporter for the IRA, a terrorist organization no different than Al-Qaeda. No wonder he’d been so skittish about his past and his family. He wouldn’t have wanted me to know that kind of shit about him and the picture became so clear.

“Mr. Cox—”

“Call me Dizzy…everyone else does.”

“Dizzy, my wife was not privy to my background. I purposely didn’t tell her because I didn’t want to scare her away. However, now that she does know, I’m no longer involved with any criminal activities and I will do whatever it takes to help her brother be found.” Linx’s eyes stayed glued to the man in charge and refused to look at me.

“You see, Trista, that is true love and the man who finds it is worthy enough indeed.” Dizzy’s bright blue eyes locked with mine and held my gaze firmly this time. “Although I am not crazy about Cillian’s choice in women, he and Gisela are truly in love as are you and Linx. Your husband will become a club member and will sit for a Saint tattoo because he is overwhelmingly in love with you, Trista. He’d do anything, even sell his soul for you. You were lucky to find him but then again, like mother, like daughter.”

I didn’t understand where this conversation was going but I was sure I wasn’t going to like it, not that I was all that enamored with what I’d heard so far. It was like the blows kept coming and they wouldn’t fucking stop. When would I dig out the truth from underneath a stack of lies so high, no one knew if it even existed any longer?

I swallowed my Macallan and poured myself another drink. What I wouldn’t give for a joint right now; I seriously needed to get high and fucked up just to forget this clusterfuck called my life.