“Can we fuckin’ go now?” he asked, groaning when she wrapped her legs around his waist and rocked against him.
Her arms settled around his neck. One arm around her body, he cradled the back of her head with his other hand. As relaxed as her body felt against him, he knew she was genuinely enjoying herself. It had been days since she felt so pliant. Three fucking days to be exact. Ever since his fucking MC had been raided by law enforcement and she and his sister, Zoann, were there without him.
Working to put the club back together had been nonstop. Many of the walls had been destroyed, furniture—mattresses, sofas, chairs—ripped apart, clothes thrown aside. Some, like his, had even been shredded. After all the other bullshit that went on the past weeks, Christopher decided Megan needed a break. Over breakfast, he’d asked if going out for an evening would get her mind off every-fucking-thing. Just to take a fucking break, all of them had gone their separate fucking ways to wind down. She’d wanted to bring his boy with them, but he decided she’d needed a break from CJ, too.
Arrow, Bowlie, and Cowboy had stayed on premises to keep watch and listen out for Dinah. Johnnie had done a turnaround, just staying in Hawaii long enough to visit his bitch, and then hop the fuck back on the plane after Christopher told him what the fuck went down. Although he wouldn’t have put it past Johnnie to weasel his fucking way to wherever Megan chose, Christopher hadn’t had to punch Johnnie for making any such underhanded moves. He was with Val, Zoann, Mortician, Stretch and Ghost at a biker rally.
Christopher would’ve fucked John Boy up, too, cuz he was still harboring fucking resentment about the ‘I’m human’ comment the assfuck had made about Megan.
Christopher was fucking human, too, and there was only so much fucking bullshit he’d take from Johnnie. He already tolerated that fucking cunt on his behalf. He wasn’t about to put up with the fuckhead still pining for his wife, too.
Even if Christopher ended at stupid fucking amusement parks with Megan.
Fuck him, when he’d suggested this, he’d been thinking mainly of Megan, but he’d never fucking expected her to suggest a fucking amusement park and arcade.
He touched his forehead to hers, just able to make out her golden hair and skin in the darkness. She pressed a kiss on the bridge between his neck and shoulder, hardening his cock all the more.
“I want some pussy, Megan,” he growled, caressing her denim-covered ass, the jeans she wore tantamount to a chastity belt and frustrating the motherfuck out of him.
She rolled her pussy against him and nipped his chin, the feel of her teeth driving him fucking insane. He sucked the delicate skin of her neck.
“Wanna get anything from me?”
“Yeah,” she breathed on a groan. “I want some dick from you, Christopher.”
Her saucy response pulled laughter from him as he set her on her feet and got to work on her jeans. Once he got them down around her knees, he turned her and urged her to bend over with a hand over her back. He dipped his finger into her pussy, thumbing her clit. The moment he made her come, he took out his dick and buried it inside of her tender warmth, his grunt drowning out her sigh. Gripping her hips, he pumped into her, caught in the grip of her sweet pussy.
Cum already bubbled up, so Christopher knew he wouldn’t last long. He fingered her clit and she moaned, pushing into one of his thrusts.
“Let your pussy come for me, Megan,” he encouraged, fisting one hand in her silky hair.
A moment later, she shuddered against him, releasing a soft cry. At the sound of her release, he stiffened and trembled, cum shooting from him.
Slowly, the sounds of night returned to him. Katydids, crickets, bullfrogs. In the distance, sounds from the amusement park, faint music, voices, vehicles.
Breathing hard, he freed Megan, slowly removing his dick out of her and stuffing it back in his jeans. Once he put himself to rights, he helped her repair her own clothes, smoothing her hair, jeans, and T-shirt, guided by instinct rather than sight. Properly clothed again, Megan snaked her arms around him and he kissed the top of her head. Fucking her had released the tension of the trauma caused by how he’d spent his evening.
“Can we fuckin’ go now, baby?” It was her deal, so he wouldn’t mention the biker rally. That’s where he wanted to be.
“What do you want to do now?”
Her whisper in her just-fucked voice caressed his senses. He brought his fingers, coated with her pussy juice, to his nose and inhaled, the scent of her cunt hardening his dick again. “What the fuck you think?”
Megan giggled, a nineteen-year-old having fun and making out with her lover in some forbidden place. In that moment, she didn’t sound like who she was—his wife—the old lady of a motherfucker like him and mother of their son. “Not that,” she chastised.
“Give me pussy and your beautiful fuckin’ smile and I’m a happy motherfucker, so this night for you.” She’d already given him both, so he was fucking delirious with joy.
For tonight, their problems were lost in the noise and lights of their surroundings. Tomorrow, would bring in more work. More problems. More of Megan wanting another baby. Just fucking more.
She hadn’t spoken about it in four days, since the night of his ill-planned party where he’d tried to shut her out. But he knew her.
He. Knew. Her.
His heart plummeted at what he intended without her knowledge. A vasectomy he hadn’t ever discussed with her.
The appointment was wrong like a motherfucker. They kept everything out in the open between them and never lied to each other. That was the reason they worked so fucking well. But he’d prefer to pretend to be trying for another baby and know that would never happen then to see the sadness in her eyes over not only their lost son, but the baby she mightn’t ever get to have.
Maybe, he was setting her up for another heartbreak. And, maybe, he’d found the key to help ease her hurt a little more.
This entire fucking shit exhausted the fuck out of him. He fucking preferred fucking fights and gun battles to what he’d gone through over the last few months. To what he’d helplessly watched his girl go through.
Guilt rushed Christopher and he sighed. “What do you want to do?” he asked her again, loving the fuck out of her even if he could do without the emotion it took to have her and love her.
Silence. Christopher hoped like fuck her silence meant she wanted to give him more pussy. He tucked strands of golden hair behind her ear.
This night was for him and Megan minus the fuckups. Vasectomies, dead babies, and human motherfuckers wouldn’t intrude. Taking her hand, he guided her back to the amusement park and headed to the parking area. At his Harley, he seated himself and she climbed behind him. For once, he’d allowed her to go without a helmet, understanding her need to feel the wind in her hair and the air kissing her face. The open road invigorated him and made him feel alive. Free.
Megan needed the same thing. Glancing over his shoulder, the sight of her swollen lips and flushed cheeks satisfied him. He lifted a brow, her love for him so stark in her eyes his chest hurt. Another burst of guilt at his scheduled vasectomy. Megan fucking trusted him. Could he really…?
Who the fuck was he kidding? He’d manipulate the fuck out of any situation to keep Megan safe and happy. No, he’d manipulate shit to keep Megan. Period.
“So whatcha wanna do, baby?” he asked gruffly.
“Take me to a hangout you would’ve gone to before we met,” Megan said softly, her smile blinding him, her expression unreadable.
A hangout before they met would’ve consisted of bars, strip clubs, and other clubhouses. Nothing he wanted her around. “Megan—”
“Please?”
The word pierced his resistance as much as the feel of her arms around his waist and her cheek on his middle rocker.
Fuck, still not what he wanted to hear. She’d fucking offered him to go where the fuck he wanted and, like a dickhead, he’d insisted she choose. How the fuck was their fucking thinking get
ting so the fuck far apart from one another?
Sighing, Christopher nodded, wondering if those fucking go-carts had fucked up his brain. No, his fucked up clubhouse was fucking up his brain at the moment. The brothers discovering he’d gone to a fucking amusement park like a fucking thirteen-year-old. Fuck, even when he’d been thirteen, he hadn’t done this ridiculous bullshit.
Now, Megan wanted to go to one of the places he’d gone to drink, fuck, fight, or make deals.
“What kinda places you like to hang out at? Let’s go somewhere like that.”
Tension settled into her body and seeped into his.
“Well,” she began in a small voice, “I’ve never gone to a nightclub or anything. I-I’ve gone to bars with you, but I never had before. I’m not even legal to drink.” The last, she finished on a mumble.
Well, fuck.
Chapter Two: A Wedding Date
Meggie allowed Christopher to guide her into the bar, a hole in the wall with a scarred bar, equally blemished tables, two pool tables, rough looking women, and mean looking men. She’d thought about suggesting they join the others at the rally, but changed her mind. He needed to see that she had a life outside of him and bikers and being an old lady.
Kendall’s abrasive remarks, during their earlier conversation, had triggered Meggie’s thoughts. Even when she’d pointed out that she acted like a nineteen-year-old—in her opinion, anyway—Kendall’s response had been on point.
“Well, you chose to be a wife and a mother at nineteen, so fucking act like a mature woman, instead of a little kid throwing tantrums to have her way.”
Meggie needed a mysterious air to keep Christopher’s attention. She winced. Suggesting a date at an amusement park had been brilliant, the height of mystery and maturity.
Her spirits plummeted further, her self-directed sarcasm not helping. Instead of taking advice from Kendall, maybe, Meggie should talk to the Bobs. All the guys liked them. The men didn’t know much about those women, who only made themselves available at certain times.
“If you don’t leave Christopher, he’s going to leave you,” Kendall had sworn to Meggie, this morning. After three days of the same refrain, it was wearing on Meggie. “That might not be such a bad thing. Then, maybe, they can do that sharing thing with you that they’ve done with all the other women and stop lusting after you.”
Meggie had choked, certain she’d misheard the last part of Kendall’s statement. She’d heard all about being the first girl not to have been shared. Even Iona—Johnnie’s former fiancé—had slept with a Free Bird member before he’d been killed. That was a hush-hush secret, though, that Bunny told Meggie. To keep Bunny from getting banned for spreading rumors to her, Meggie had never mentioned it to Christopher. Besides, he’d probably classify that as bitch shit. Gossip and rumors that had no business in his club.
“Kendall, even if Christopher and I were to separate I have no interest in sleeping with any of the other guys.”
“You’d make everyone’s lives much easier if you did. Even mine.”
What? “Kendall—”
“You know I’m right.”
“Why don’t you share yourself?” Meggie had grouched.
Kendall made a sound of impatience. “Just like I sincerely wish I would’ve completed the job I was sent to do and slept with Outlaw, I wish he would’ve let his brothers fuck you like they did all their other women before you. That’s their main fucking problem.”
“Why are we even having this conversation?” Meggie had screeched, glancing uneasily toward the door. Christopher and CJ would be returning soon from their daily walk to the construction site for their house. She didn’t need her husband finding her in a disagreement with Kendall. Sometimes, though, Kendall said the most galling things.
“Oh, shut up, Meggie,” she’d snapped. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. They’re all perverted fucking pigs, your husband being the worst of all. But we have to bow down to you, especially me. Johnnie defends you quicker than he defends me.”
Meggie had sighed, knowing Kendall was hurting because of a tough therapy session she’d gone through yesterday. “In all honesty, I’ve never really paid much attention to how the guys look at me. I’ve been too focused on Christopher. From the time I met him, he fascinated me.”
“I’ll bet. He’s one fascinating asshole.”
Meggie refused to buy into Kendall’s bitterness. The therapist suggested Kendall and Johnnie separate since he seemed to be the main source of her unhappiness. The woman had gone so far as to tell Kendall that Johnnie’s refusal to set a wedding date hindered her healing from all other ordeals.
“As for Johnnie defending me, I’ve never seen that. From what I heard, Christopher wanted to shoot his head off because he was protecting you.”
Kendall had fallen silent, intermittent sniffles punctuating the airwaves. “Part of my therapy is to get all my feelings out,” she’d whispered finally. “That means my observations, too. Not only hers. Analyzing my feelings and observations by either writing in my journal or by talking them out with someone is part of my therapy.”
“Kendall—”
“Save it,” she’d hiccupped. “I know you’re going to reassure me how much Johnnie loves me.”
“He does.”
“I’ve noted a lot, since I’ve been in here. I’ve thought about even more. Sometimes, the words rolling around in my head get jumbled and I magnify situations. I really don’t mean to,” she’d sobbed. “I’m sorry that I act like I do. You and I…we’ve been through a lot. We didn’t start out on the best footing—”
“Kendall, please, listen to me. It’s okay. You’re okay. I know you’re hurting. I understand and I’m here for you no matter what. We’re friends. Sisters. Please stop stressing yourself.” Meggie had spoken quiet, like Kendall, her heart breaking for her. She was going to have a word with Johnnie. He needed to do right by Kendall. He loved her? Then, he needed to put his actions where his words were and marry her. As of now, Kendall was the only one of the old ladies amongst Christopher’s officers who wasn’t married. “This was all new to me, too. At this point, it really doesn’t matter who’s more culpable for the misery we caused one another. I was eaten up with jealousy because of how you met Christopher—”
“And because I’d taken Johnnie’s attention from you—”
Before she’d answered, Meggie had searched her heart and soul for the truth of that. Had she been jealous over that? She’d recalled the weeks she’d been in Johnnie’s company almost constantly when Christopher had walked away from her. She’d been attracted to him and she hadn’t quite understood how he’d taken the tiniest fraction of her heart. Yet, she’d only ever wanted him settled and happy in a relationship that she’d never be able to give him. She’d wanted him to find someone to love him with all her heart and soul as she loved Christopher.
“No,” she’d admitted honestly. “I wanted him to find love and happiness. He’s found it with you. I just didn’t want Christopher to think you were better for him than I was. The only thing I knew was you’d been there to seduce Christopher and then ended up with Johnnie. What did that mean?”
She’d started to cry, too. Lately, her emotions had been so fragile. She needed to pull herself together. It was making her sick, nauseated and crampy. Her old method of release called to her. It would be so easy to fall back upon cutting. Christopher had knives and straight razors in hidden places. She kept the place clean, so she knew about a lot of hidey holes just from exploring.
Cutting would take her away. Help her to escape reality for the time it took the bite and sting to hit her nerve receptors. Somehow, she managed not to. That Christopher had to hide his knives and razors sobered her every time she thought about borrowing one. He didn’t need to worry that she’d harm herself. He had a club to run.
“All you saw me as was a slut trying to get to your husband?” Kendall’s shrill incredulity cut into Meggie’s thoughts. “Not a
woman with problems and feelings?”
“I’m sorry, Kendall. I didn’t know you, so I didn’t understand your relationship.”
“What relationship? The asshole never allowed us to have a relationship. He’s too busy insulting me.”
To Meggie, it sounded as if Kendall wanted a relationship with Christopher that had nothing to do with the reasons she alluded to and everything to do with sex. She pushed the idea aside. It was just those insecurities that had led to all the turmoil between her and Kendall. However, she would admit…“I’m always afraid of losing Christopher.”
A series of deep breaths and small sobs followed before the conversation restarted.
“Why are you with him? Sometimes, I think you’re with him because you have nothing else. That half the things you do are for your own selfish reasons. Not because you love him.” Kendall had huffed out a breath. “We’ve covered this but you’re young. The way you feel about him now will change as you get older. I swear, Meggie. I’m not saying that to be mean. I just know some of the things I felt at nineteen are ridiculous to me now at a month from thirty-one.”
“I love Christopher,” Meggie had insisted softly.
“Why? He’s an asshole. If I’d come to seduce him in the past few weeks, with the way he’s been treating you, the outcome would’ve been different. He would’ve fucked me. I feel it in my heart and soul.”
“No—”
“Yes. He would have.”
No matter what Kendall said, Meggie believed differently.
“That’s beside the point, though. Why do you love him?”
“I love the complexity of him. He has an odd sense of morals—”
“Do you know the definition of morals? Obviously not, if you think he has any.”
Irritation had surged into Meggie. “He says he’s conscienceless,” she’d continued without responding to Kendall’s sarcasm, “and, yet, some of his past actions weigh upon him.”
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 163
