by Tya Marie
Kelsey hiked herself up on my waist. “Good.”
I carried her to the bedroom, dumping her onto the king size bed, made up with crisp sheets awaiting our arrival. Kelsey sat up, unbuckling my pants as I worked on the zipper running down the back of her dress, freeing her as my pants dropped to the floor. She ripped my shirt open, sending buttons flying everywhere, and I had to stop her from tearing my wife beater. I had never seen this aggressive side of her, but I was loving it.
“Can you make me a drink?” Kelsey asked, batting her eyelashes.
“Henny?” She nodded her head vigorously, her curls bouncing with every nod of her head. “I’ll be right back.”
Stepping out of my pants, I grabbed my phone from the pocket, checking my messages on my way to the mini bar. Drea left me several text messages, the first one asking me where I was, the next one telling me that Legacy missed me, and the following ones asking me how to make a bottle, burp Legacy, and put him to sleep. I sent her a detailed message on how to do everything and then some, to which she replied that she was feeling overwhelmed.
Quill, please come home, she texted, dragging out the last word. I know you're spiting me for being absent this morning. I promise to do better, just come home.
My thumb hovered over my keyboard. Nah, I wasn’t going to do this with her tonight. With a promise to be home when I was done handling business, I shut off my phone and played bartender, mixing up two strong drinks for Kelsey and me. Lovemaking music drifted from the master bedroom, Janelle Monae’s “Primetime” to be exact. The lights were dimmed, and Kelsey sat at the corner of the bed, her hands between her legs holding onto the edge of comforter, dressed in nothing but her La Perla set and pumps, her hair a halo of curls on her head. I stood there taken aback by her beauty.
“Quill, if you don’t say something I think I'm going to throw up,” she said after a minute of us staring at each other.
I held out her drink to her. She accepted with a nervous “thank you,” finishing half in three gulps. Taking a tentative sip of mine, I placed it on the nightstand, creeping up behind Kelsey, brushing her hair away from her neck to pepper it with soft kisses. She sunk into me, tilting her head back, reciprocating. No longer able to take the back and forth, we ended up between the sheets, our underclothes strewn on the floor. Kelsey reached underneath the pillow, her hand emerging with a condom. I obliged, slipping it on with clumsy fingers. I had seen death more times than I could count, met with men who were made up of anyone's worse nightmares, and it was Kelsey that made me nervous.
“Can you go slow?” she asked, finishing her question with a kiss.
“I have been waiting for this moment for a long time,” I whispered, placing the head of my dick against her slit, the anticipation too much to bear. “Of course I’ll take my time with you. I love you.”
“I love you too, Quill.”
Bracing myself, I slid into Kelsey with a shallow stroke, listening to her body rhythms. A soft moan escaped her lips, giving me permission to dive deeper. Stroke after stroke, I entered her, legs shaking over how good it felt inside of her. I picked up the pace, plunging deep inside of her, filling her with my length, pressing my lips against hers to keep from losing it. Kelsey jumped, her nails digging into my back, gasping at how aggressive I was. I stared down at her, brushing her hair from her face.
“Did I hurt you?”
A single tear rolled down her cheek. “No…” she breathed, kissing on my neck and shoulders. “The opposite. That feels so good. I want all of you, William.”
As D’Angelo’s “Untitled” played, I did as she asked, making love to her body. It took her some time to find my rhythm, but when she did, Kelsey became part of me. Grabbing her small waist with both of my hands, I switched positions, placing her on top of me. A blush crept up her cheeks as she rode me clumsily, trying to balance the dick she was filled with while finding the right spot to place her hands. When it came to being with someone as well versed in the world as Kelsey, watching her learn and be vulnerable turned me on more than a million Madonnas with bags full of tricks. With a little encouragement, and some starter thrusts from me, she was a pro in no time, bouncing on my dick. I had to switch it up again before I busted inside of her. Missionary was the epitome of lovemaking, and being on top gave Kelsey the confidence she needed to pleasure herself, but it was doggystyle where we leveled the playing field.
The champagne kicked in as I hit Kelsey with backshot after backshot, using the same hair I could smell for hours to take charge of her. Not one to be upstaged, Kelsey started throwing it back at me with a fat ass that was well hidden in the mom jeans she wore. As the smell of sex mingled with our individual scents, I could no longer take it anymore. I flipped her onto her back and we were right where we started. Kelsey's lips found mine, biting on my bottom one as she came with a whimper. Her submission triggered me, and I came right after, collapsing on top of her, my face landing in her mess of curls. We laid like that for what felt like forever, a breathless laugh escaping us every so often. Eventually our heartbeats synced, symbolizing our two worlds becoming one. Kelsey was a part of me that I would never forget, and I would carry tonight with me for the rest of my life. I had no idea how big of a part I was to her until I pulled the covers back to grab a wet towel. Underneath Kelsey was a plush white towel, folded four times and covered in blood. I paused, thinking I had been too rough with her. Embarrassment was written all over her face as if she had been caught being bad. Thinking back to her requests for me to go slow, I put the pieces together.
Sitting on my haunches, I asked her, “Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”
13
Kelsey
“I didn’t think it mattered,” I said, sitting up in bed, clutching the blanket to my chest.
Quill motioned between the bloody towel and me. “Yes, it does matter. If I knew you were still I a virgin, I would’ve—”
“Tried to make it romantic and shit. I didn’t want all that stuff—none of it matters to me—I wanted you. This was how I wanted to lose my virginity.” I slid out of bed, making my way to the bathroom. Quill was hot on my heels, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed, watching me as I sat on the toilet. “Are you really going to watch me pee?”
He shrugged, the motion making his dick jump against his leg. “I deflowered you with rough sex. You think I give a fuck about you peeing?”
“Okay…” I stared down at my toes as I relieved myself, wiggling them for a temporary source of entertainment.
Quill didn’t move an inch, his eyes following me over to the sink where I washed my hands and over to the shower, adjusting the knobs until I had steaming hot water. I grabbed one of the complimentary shower caps, attempting to stuff my hair into it, settling with the front half. I smelled him before I felt the heat of his body against mine. Quill placed the rest of my hair into the shower cap. He stepped into the spacious shower right after me, planting kisses along my shoulders. They were gentle, nothing like the way he handled me minutes ago.
“This is what I was trying to avoid,” I groaned as I grabbed a washcloth from the shelf, and squeezed a fair amount of the expensive body wash onto it. “I'm not fine china, Quill. If you squeeze me too tight I'm not going to fall apart.”
Quill took the washcloth out of my hand, ordering me to be quiet while he took care of me. I stood in the middle of the shower, silent as he washed my entire body from head to toe, taking special care to not be rough with my kitty, sore and tender to the touch. When he was done, he rinsed me off and ordered me to get into bed while he took care of himself. I cleaned up in his absence, placing the bloody towel into a laundry bag I would take home and clean myself. After ordering room service and a fresh pair of linens, I rubbed my body down with some of the fancy lotion left behind, slipping into a plush robe and getting into bed. While waiting, my lids began to droop, fluttering open at the sound of the bathroom door. Quill stepped out glistening, wearing nothing but a towel. There was a knock
at the door.
“I’ll get it,” I announced, climbing out of bed before he could object.
In the hallway, I found Terry checking our food to make sure it was safe. Daddy recommended him as being one of the best, and although I felt like he did the most 90% of the time, I had to respect him for taking his job seriously. Being a bodyguard meant remaining impartial to your clients’ activities, regardless of how much you disapprove. I knew the show Quill and I put on back at the rink left a sour taste in Terry’s mouth, but I had to commend him for keeping it professional as I showed up to the door with my hair in a mess, dressed in a robe. He gave me an affirmative head nod as the rolling tray was wheeled into the suite.
“Let me grab my purse so I can tip you,” I said to the bellboy.
He waved away the offer. “Your bodyguard has covered the tip. Have a wonderful night.”
“Terry…” I started.
“You pay for small incidentals, Miss Mackenzie,” Terry replied, mimicking me. “Have a good night.”
“You're going to spend the night out here? I’ll be fine with Quill—”
“Miss Mackenzie, allow me to do my job. What did I tell you on our first day?”
I replied with an affirmative nod of my head. “I pay you for the job, not the details.”
“Exactly. Now get some rest. I've got everything under control.”
Terry closed the suite door for me. Quill entered the living room, commenting on how good our food smelled. We set up at the dining room table, placing plates of steak, lobster, sea bass, and pork around various soups. Skating and sex had wiped me out and now I was ready to eat everything in sight. Quill made us mimosas using the orange juice and champagne I ordered. We spent the first few minutes devouring the spread, only speaking to ask for condiments or napkins. After clearing every plate on the table, we returned to the bedroom, getting comfortable in each other’s arms. I felt myself growing sleepy as Quill drew small figures on my arms, the feeling therapeutic.
“Can I ask you a question?” Quill prompted.
I nodded. “Mmmhmm.”
“Why give your virginity to me? You had a boyfriend for how many years? I'm sure he was more than willing to give you the unromantic experience you were looking for,” he said, a laugh from his gut giving me a little shake.
Biting my lip, I contemplated on whether or not I should tell him the truth. “Morris was more than capable of taking my virginity, but something in my gut didn’t want him to have it. No, I didn’t want a romantic dinner, rose petals, and all that other random shit; what I wanted was to share the memory with someone I trusted,” I rationalized. “Yes, we didn’t end on the best terms, and, yes, you have a lot going on, but I trust you Quill. You're always there whenever I need you.”
“So, you were going to remain a virgin for the rest of your life? Because you damn sure blocked me on everything you could think of. My next step was contacting you on LinkedIn.”
“You are so stupid,” I cracked up, slapping him on the chest. “On a serious note though, you hurt my feelings. I'm not climbing over your wall to be there for you, William. Let me in. I want to be here for you.”
Quill kissed my forehead. “Kelsey, there are some parts of my life I don’t want you touched by. Most of it is stranger than fiction.”
“Like?”
“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me. I don’t even believe it my damn self…”
I swung my leg over his waist, mounting him and crossing my arms. “Try me.”
“Kelsey…”
“William…”
He cracked a smile. “Aight, here’s what's going on. You know how I was shot on a deal gone wrong?” I nodded. “The deal didn’t go wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be made with Deon. They wanted me.”
“Why would they want you?”
Quill rubbed my arms, the effect immediately calming me. “To repay Bull's debt. He made a promise to them he didn’t keep, and now I have to pick up where he left off. So now I'm working for Drea's father and the Jinetes at the same goddamn time…”
I tensed up. “Jinetes? The Jinetes are dead. They died five years ago…Quill, stop shaking your head. My father told me they were dead! I was there when—they're dead.”
“No,” Quill said with a final shake of his head. “I don’t know how them niggas managed to escape, but there's three left. They call themselves The Last Jinetes.”
My stomach started flipping. I could feel the food I ate threatening to come up. “What are their names?”
“Alberto…Oscar…and Eugenio.” Quill stared at me, gauging my reaction. “Kelsey, ma, you good?”
I couldn’t control it; the contents of my stomach erupted out of me like a volcano, landing all over Quill's face and chest. He screamed, spitting out my vomit, and flipped me over as he wiped his eyes and nose with a stray sheet. I rolled onto my side, crying and spitting out chunks of food. I apologized to Quill between sobs, climbing out of bed to wash out my mouth. We met up in the bathroom, each taking a sink of our own. I helped Quill wipe the rest of his body down as he washed out his eyes. He took a seat on the toilet seat, pulling me onto his lap.
“Kelsey, you're not going to lie to me, are you?” His eyes fell on my lip I was nibbling to death. “Have you met Eugenio and his brothers before?”
I nodded my head.
“Did they hurt you?”
Nod.
“I'll kill them all,” he said, picking me up and carrying me out of the bathroom. “You stay here for the night. I’mma link with Eric to make a plan so we can—”
“No,” I cut him off.
Quill's face had turned to stone. “I could deal with working for Eugenio until I figured out a way to get from under him, but I'm not pushing anything for a man who hurt you. Fuck outta here.”
“I mean, you're not making the plan.” Quill set me on the edge of the bed, hovering over me as he waited for me to elaborate. “This is something I have to handle myself. The two days I spent with the Veracruzes are ones that have haunted me. What they did to me has shaped my entire life up to this point. I got this.”
__________
Daddy sat at a wooden chess table, his eyes flickering between his set of white pieces and those of his imaginary opponent. I stood watching him absorbed in the game, moving his white rook three spaces over, taking a pawn. He was a street general, a revolutionary, revered more for what people think he's done than his actual actions. Right now, I needed his advice before I created a mess I wouldn’t be able to contain.
“Are you going to stand there watching me or take over?” Daddy asked without taking his eyes off the board.
I ambled over to the table, plopping down in the chair across from him, wiggling my butt against the plush leather seat until I was comfortable. Daddy motioned to the board, signaling that it was my turn. I was never good at chess; checkers was more my speed. My earliest memories of playing my own version of the game, making the pieces literal embodiments of their characters. Somehow, I don’t think my father would be amused by me having my rook gallop around the board knocking pawns over. Without the slightest clue of what my plan was, I moved my pawn two spaces. Daddy took it with one swoop. I used the opening to move my bishop to stand guard amongst the pawns.
“Normani said you’ve been cooped up in here since the other night,” I said, resting my eyes on Daddy, who was looking peaky. “I know this isn't what you wanted me to do, but—”
“Although the succession of The Trust to you was abrupt, and the manner in which it happened was hurtful, I'm not upset with you taking over.” He sat back, raking a hand through his hair, his eyes finding mine. “I'm upset with myself for allowing my health to deteriorate to this extent before stepping down. I can't return to work because the reporters won't stop hounding me, the prosecutor is still considering bringing charges against me, and…Normani almost lost another child behind my bullshit.”
I grabbed Daddy’s hand before he could make a move. “So, this is where I get it
from; burying my feelings deep on the inside and isolating myself from people who care about me. Makes sense…”
“It’s how I cope. Growing up I didn’t have the luxury of leaning on others. I had to be a father, provider, and a general while boys my age were fucking everything that walked. You're surrounded by people who give a fuck about you; our struggles aren't the same.”
A stray tear rolled down my cheek. “You're right. I had a lot of people to lean on. Like Shahily whenever she wasn’t worrying about herself. Granny the one time a week I saw her. Normani who couldn’t spend time with me without bursting into tears over you. All those people…”
“How may I help you, Kelsey?” Daddy asked with raised brows.
“Daddy, what was your first kill like?”
My father went rigid in his seat. “It was either him or me, and I promised myself that I wouldn’t leave you alone in this world without a mother or father. I've thought back on that night plenty of times. Wouldn’t change a thing.” He tilted his head to the side. “Who is it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You're going to kill someone. Who?”
I let out the breath that carried me here. “The person standing between me and my destiny.”
“Did you come here for my blessing?”
“No, I came here to find out why they call you Urban.”
Daddy cracked a smile. “Well, I got the nickname because the origins of my come up are unknown to most. The only other people who know how I got here aren't around to give their version of events.”
“Will it change who I am?”
“That’s a good question…” He moved his knight into a spot vacated by a pawn. “I think killing someone won't change you, but it will create another facet you’ve never seen. We all have multiple. The same side of me that Normani knows isn't the one you know. It’s not the one my grandmother is familiar with. And there's a final side of me that none of you have seen, a side reserved for myself. When…if…you choose to kill, you have to be ready to confront that side. You'll still be our Kelsey, however, to others you will be someone unrecognizable.”
