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"Florida is a good area?" Cyrus asked, tone dubious.
"Just like here, man. They got ports. They have ways to get the weapons in and out unseen. If I were Reign, my sites would be on Florida now. Then California later. You seize the imports and exports, you cripple the competition. The other big city criminal empires won't stand a chance against the club. They will have no choice but to turn to us for their weapons. Reign is looking to the future, to eventual retirement, to what he is leaving the kids who are coming up. A new legacy."
"Hm," Cyrus murmured, and it was a sound - and train of thought - I had to agree with.
Hm.
I guess I could understand that desire, that need to create something bigger, to do better. That was the point of procreating, wasn't it? To create a better little human based on all the things you had learned in your own life? To give them things you had been missing, to offer them a better future.
Reign had so much. Objectively, he was a lucky man. He had a business that was thriving. He had more money than he needed. His wife and children wanted for nothing. His men and their wives and their children wanted for nothing. Whatever anyone desired, he could provide without having to worry about the light bill or his retirement plan.
But he, like all parents, wanted more for his children. To get more without dragging all his men from their families for days - or weeks - at a time for drops much farther away, he had to branch out, build a larger empire, let the organization become something bigger for his sons to take over someday, make their lives and their wives' and their children's lives easier.
It was a lot to take on, knowing new chapters would require significant oversight from our mother chapter for a long while until they got on their feet. But I could see why Reign's mind was on such things as his sons were so close to adulthood, so eager to follow in his footsteps.
"Heard your girl plays guitar," Cyrus commented, drawing my attention again.
"What? Are you looking for a partner to make a duet out of a fucking Michael Bublé song?" Pagan asked as he walked by, not even breaking his stride as he did so.
"If she is ever looking for someone to talk music with, point her in my direction," he suggested before moving away to snatch up his wife who had walked away from the group of her friends to hide in a corner and pull a book out of her pocket.
It was another couple of hours later when everyone started shuffling out, going home to their families.
If I knew anything about the guys, West and Vance would likely hang back with Huck, invite some girls over, party harder without the rest of us to hold them back.
So I scooped up Annie, bringing her back to our room, finding her a little rosy-cheeked, big-eyed.
"Y-y-you o-okay?"
"I am, ha, I don't know how to put it. I feel buzzy. Do you ever feel buzzy? Like jazzed up, I think that is how my mom would describe it. Like when you just had a crazy day and your body is a little all over the place. Do you ever get like that?"
"O-once i-i-i-in a w-while."
"I guess it's because I've been alone so much. So many people is a bit overwhelming. Not in a bad way. I think, like, my soul was dying for this. My social stores were depleted. I needed to fill up. Are the women always that awesome? I mean, they probably are. And, oh my God, Peyton. I thought maybe you were exaggerating a little about her. But she is every bit the larger-than-life person you described. You know she stopped in the middle of a conversation to ask Reece if the vib..." Annie trailed off, eyes bugging a little, embarrassed at the train of her thoughts.
I knew Peyton pretty damn well at this point.
I knew exactly what word Annie trailed off on.
"V-v-vibrator?" I supplied, watching as her cheeks went pink.
"Ah, yeah. Peyton's sister owns that store down the street," she went on, still not quite able to make eye-contact.
"S-s-sex store," I supplied, watching as she pressed her lips into a tight line.
She wasn't comfortable with the sex talk yet. Which made sense, I guess. Since she had been so much so on her own for so long that she never made connections, likely hadn't been anywhere near a man. She hadn't had a relationship since before Thomas. She'd practically been a kid.
Comfort came with time. We would get there. If I had anything to say about it.
She was insanely reactive just to my fingers, my mouth, my cock. I couldn't imagine what it would be like with toys added into the mix.
