“I’ll be sure to count your graves, so I’ll have enough markers for each piece of you.”
Knox glared at Cash.
“Walk,” the man said, giving no indication he’d seen Knox’s look.
Of course he hadn’t. Knox couldn’t see his own hand in the pitch-black surroundings.
Arguing served no purpose with none of these assholes. Even if he had protested, Cash would make light of or ignore Knox’s words altogether. Aware of Cash close behind him, Knox started off. With each step he took, he damned Megan Caldwell to everlasting hell. The soggy ground ruined his shoes and trousers. Expensive clothing wasted on stupidity.
“If this is some rite of passage, fuck all of you. I’m in excellent shape. I’m not going to fail at your dumb fucking games.”
“Don’t expect you to,” Cash responded. “Don’t give a fuck if you did.”
Knox scowled into the darkness, but said nothing more. A chill set into him. The cold air chapped his face, hands, and neck. They wanted to exploit his weaknesses, so he kept his misery to himself.
Those animal sounds, though…Christ. Haunting and frightening, the noises echoed all around them.
After an eternity, reflections from outside lamps cast shadows upon the club grounds. As they drew closer to the entrance, the light grew brighter, allowing Knox to see the back façade of Johnnie and Kendall’s house in all its pale stucco splendor.
Knox halted.
“Asshole!” Cash complained, crashing into Knox at his unexpected pause.
“What are we doing here?” Knox demanded, suspicious.
“To bring you to your execution,” Cash retorted with unnecessary sarcasm.
“I’m shaking in my loafers,” Knox sneered.
Unless it was true…?
According to Johnnie, the cave had been used in the past to hide guns, drugs, and money. Megan had even given birth in it. It wouldn’t be a stretch that they’d use it to sacrifice a poor innocent soul.
“That’s not fucking funny.”
Smirking, Cash pulled out his cell phone, typed a message, then pressed send. He waited a minute before the ding came.
Realization dawned. “You’ve been texting someone?”
“Stretch,” Cash said on a grunt. A moment later, he was pressing something against Knox’s chest. “You have one fucking hour. Probably less than that because this shit took longer than expected.”
Knox ignored whatever Cash was trying to hand him. “One hour for what?”
“You’re a stupid motherfucker, you know that?” Cash snapped in disgust. “It hasn’t dawned on you why all of this subterfuge is necessary?”
“Because Megan doesn’t want Outlaw to know she’s meeting me?”
“Jesus Christ.” Cash snorted. “Take this fucking money and walk until you get to Roxanne’s. The guards Mort has stationed there are waiting for you. Give them five hundred a piece.”
“Roxanne?” Knox echoed with cringe-worthy stupidity. He grabbed the money out of reflex.
Cash shoved him. “Go.”
The investigator in him wanted to ask more questions, but, instead, he listened to Cash and continued on toward Mortician’s property line, where Roxanne’s mother-in-law quarters were located. Once he cleared Johnnie’s land, it took another couple of minutes before he came upon the first of Mortician’s guards. The man stopped him immediately.
“Knox, you got something for me?”
“Yes,” Knox answered as the man held up a flashlight and shined it in Knox’s face. He raised the wad of cash, seeing a bundle of hundreds. Knox counted off five and held them out.
The guard grunted, then whistled and stepped aside. Knox went through this routine two additional times until he came to the last guard who stood watch on Roxanne’s door.
“If Mort find out, we in a lotta trouble, Knox,” the man said. “But Roxy cook us good meals and Meggie always got her door open to our old ladies. When Roxy tell you to go, don’t ask no questions. Just go.” He held out his hand. “My money please?”
Please? He didn’t know these men understood the definition of that word. Knox held the last bit of cash out to him. After taking the money, the guard stepped aside, allowing him entrance to Roxanne’s place.
“I can’t believe I only discovered this recipe,” Megan said to Mort as she poured him another glass of starbursts melted in vanilla vodka.
“Don’t drink all that, Mort,” Val complained, holding out his glass for Megan to pour him more.
“Meggie, all this garlic going to make my ass sing all night,” Digger called, adding more deep-fried jalapenos stuffed with cream cheese, shrimp and garlic, onto his plate. “My ass will really be singing, too. Trumpeting. Farts for fucking days. I could probably compose an entire symphony piece.”
Bunny wrinkled her nose, but smiled at her nasty ass husband.
“I got to get up early tomorrow,” Digger went on. He stuffed food into his mouth until all the jalapenos were gone, then pushed his empty plate aside and stood. “I think we need to start home. Ready, babe?”
After exchanging a panicked look with Megan, Bunny smiled at Digger. “Er, babe, I’m going check on the kids.”
Digger frowned. “But—”
“I’ll be back soon,” Bunny interrupted.
“Damn, girl,” Digger said as Bunny hurried the fuck away, “your ass just got back from checking the little motherfuckers. Blame Meggie if my farts nauseate you.”
Bunny’s laughter trailed behind her but she didn’t stop. Frowning, Digger sat back down.
“Wait until you try my next snack, Digger.” Megan smiled at Mort. “I have another drink for you to try as well, Mortician.”
“Meggie, thanks, girl, but I need to get going.” Mort stood. “Something not right. Bailey didn’t even come here. She hasn’t called or anything.”
Megan opened her mouth to speak, then closed it.
Her panic and disappointment nearly killed Christopher, so he decided to step in. She was such a fucking novice at scheming.
“We need to fuckin’ talk business, Mort. All you motherfuckers meet me in my cave.”
“Tonight, Outlaw?” Val said with disappointment.
“Ain’t I just fuckin’ say that?” Christopher snapped. “Yo, John Boy, see to it these motherfuckers stay fuckin’ put ‘til after I talk to Megan.”
Johnnie nodded. Once the guys cleared out, Christopher leaned against the island and grabbed the almost empty bottle of vanilla vodka and starbursts, swirling the contents.
He stared at Megan. She glowered. He grinned and winked at her.
“Only fuckin’ reason I ain’t cluein’ Mort the fuck in is cuz I’m so fuckin’ proud of you. You learnin’ so fuckin’ good.”
Megan pursed her pretty lips. “What are you talking about?”
“You plannin’ a sneak fuckin’ attack with Roxanne and the rest of the girls.”
Megan drew her brows together.
“Ain’t no use fuckin’ denyin’ it, baby. Some fuckin’ kinda way you helpin’ Roxanne get Harrington to her.”
She flushed, but didn’t answer.
Draining the bottle, he set it down and walked around to her side of the island, drawing her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and she melted against him.
“Lemme see, since mosta the motherfuckers here, except Cash and Stretch, my guess is them motherfuckers helpin’.”
Silence.
“My guess is Roxanne ain’t knew of the plan ‘til some fuckin’ time tonight cuz she wouldna volunteered her fuckin’ place, yeah?”
She nodded.
Nosing her golden hair, he threaded his fingers through the silken strands, then took her face between his hands and kissed her lips.
“First, baby? When you fuckin’ schemin’ you gotta take all type of shit into account. Second, Knox the wrong motherfucker to try to help the fuck out. He ain’t gonna fuckin’ appreciate it and he gonna lose valuable fuckin’ time bein’ a fuckin’ dumb ass. My bet instead of fuckin
’ askin’ what the fuck goin’ on, he gonna be objectionin’ cuz he think he better than us.”
“I know Mortician has his reasons, Christopher, but Roxy misses Knox.”
He kissed her again. Her lips were just too fucking inviting to resist. “I’m sure she do, but, baby, she probably feel Mort right in some ways. Other-fuckin-wise, she woulda been tellin’ him to fuck himself.”
“Perhaps,” Megan said quietly. “Especially after Knox said all that about money. We almost changed our minds and called the whole thing off.”
Instead of answering, he bent and covered her mouth with his. She opened so sweetly for him, meeting his tongue with her own and standing on her tiptoes. Lifting her into his arms, he set her on the counter. She wrapped her legs around his waist and she deepened the kiss.
“I wanna fuck you,” he rasped, his hard cock threatening to burst his zipper.
“I want you to fuck me,” she breathed.
He laughed against her mouth, then forced himself to pull his lips away. “The idea for Roxanne to get some dick, baby. You gettin’ mine in a lil while.”
She stretched and thrust her tits out, tempting him with her hard nipples. “I want to ride you tonight.”
“After I fuck you hard, Megan,” he told her on a groan. “Right now, baby, I gotta go keep these motherfuckers here.” He licked the shell of her ear and she rewarded him with a little tremble.
“A couple of hours,” she said on a moan. “Enough time to get Knox to Roxy and then get him back to the club.”
He thumbed her nipples, kissed her once more, then stepped away from her. “Okay, baby.”
She licked her swollen lips. Passion darkened her blue eyes and flushed her face. “I’m going to make sandwiches.”
“Don’t fuckin’ bother, baby. Re-fuckin-lax ‘til I get the fuck upstairs. Ima talk to these motherfuckers.”
“Okay,” she said, trusting him to handle everything.
Hopping off the counter, she sashayed to the refrigerator. The swing of her hips made Christopher’s dick hurt he wanted inside of her so bad.
She hit a panel on the door and pulled up an automated grocery list, one she’d programmed into her new state-of-the-art appliance, and he forced himself to focus on this moment.
For some fucking reason, Megan had decided she wanted to redo a few rooms in the house.
“How your new shit workin’?”
Her face lit up. “OMG, I can’t wait to show you all the refrigerator panel does with just the touch of a few buttons.”
Christopher smiled at her.
She rushed to him, grabbed his neck, and pulled him to her, so she could kiss him again. “The bigger range top and built-in ovens allow me to cook so much more at once,” she said after she broke away. “And then the dishwasher…do you know it has a separate drawer for utensils? It’s no longer just a little basket. The convection microwave is fabulous, too! I started thinking that, with all the new appliances, I really should remodel the rest of the kitchen. New cabinets, sink, flooring, and paint. What do you think?”
“Aintcha doin’ it ass backwards. If you wanted to redo the whole fuckin’ kitchen, you shoulda waited to buy the appliances.”
Her look thoughtful, she nodded. “You’re right. Besides, this is our hub and it would be out of commission for at least a week.”
Disappointment shone in her eyes.
“I was thinkin’, maybe, we need to take the kids to see Mickey fuckin’ Mouse, since CJ love that lil rat so much.”
“Mickey’s a mouse. You know? Mickey Mouse.”
“Still a fuckin’ rodent.”
“Mice are cute. Rats aren’t. Can you imagine Robert Rat instead of Mickey Mouse? Rats carry all types of diseases. Mice are kept as pets.”
“Scientists fuck rats the fuck up all the fuckin’ time for experiments. Without them motherfuckers, ain’t no tellin’ where we’d be in the medical field. And motherfuckers keep rats as pets. None of this shit the point. We get a fuckin’ family vacation together. While we gone, motherfuckers come in and redo the kitchen. Problem fuckin’ solved about it not bein’ usable for us.”
“Omigod, really?” she squealed, the adoration that made him fucking fly dropping into her gaze.
“Yeah, baby, really.”
“Deal,” she agreed. The announcement added a spark to her already energetic self.
He started to turn away.
“Christopher?” she called, stopping him.
“Yeah, baby?”
“I love you so much. You are my everything.”
“I love you, too, Megan,” he responded. “You my reason for livin’, baby.”
She gave him her look of love—the one that said everything. Meant everything and told him all he needed to know.
Smiling softly, she blew him a kiss, then walked away, leaving Christopher alone and thankful that she belonged to him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The house smelled of cinnamon, vanilla, and apples, spicy and warm just like Roxanne. No evidence of their earlier dinner party remained. The chill that had invaded him on the harrowing journey heated immediately. Soft lamplight bathed the living room. The sound of smooth jazz flowed down the staircase, where, at the bottom, red rose petals left a trail that went up. Smiling, Knox followed the petals, noting the small candles situated on every other step. As he reached the landing, the sound of the music grew louder.
Even before he stepped into the room he shared with Roxanne, he had removed his jacket. He threw it on the empty bed, started unbuttoning his shirt, and glanced in the direction of the bathroom. From beyond the door, gentle splashes, the evocative scent of her bubble bath, captivated him.
He heard the water, smelled her bubble bath. Shirtless, he went to the bathroom and halted in the doorway, mesmerized as she raised her leg and stroked from her knee up to her thigh. Suds dripped from her beautiful skin.
She smiled at him, lowered her leg. Tendrils escaped her pinned-up hair and plastered to her neck and forehead.
His gaze dropped to her brown nipples and he licked his lips.
“Are you going to join me, Knox?”
Join her. Yes. It wasn’t often they bathed together. Knox found it extremely uncomfortable in the standard-sized bathtub, but he wouldn’t deny her, especially since he was so grimy and sweaty.
Fixating his gaze on her, he stripped. The hungry stare she gave his hard cock pulled a smile from him. Proud of his mighty package, he strolled forward.
“Scoot up,” he instructed.
She did, slow and methodical, her every move temptation. Sin. Need. From the sensuous glide and small moan that suggested she’d teased her clit, to her searing look, and the way she cocked her head to the side to reveal the tenderness of her damp neck.
Knox slid in behind her and she leaned back, settling her soft body against his. She ignored the water sloshing on the floor, so he did too, and instead, wrapped his arms around her. She stroked his knee, and he forgot the discomfort he had because he was unable to extend his legs completely.
“I’ve missed you,” he told her.
“I’ve missed you too, Knox.”
He skimmed his hand along her breast, then tweaked her nipple. Some feeling had returned since her mastectomy and breast reconstruction. But he didn’t linger.
“You went through a lot of trouble,” he told her, caressing her belly as he slid his hand lower.
“I just found out about it tonight,” she admitted.
He fingered the top of her mound, before finding her clit.
“Knox,” she whispered, her little cry setting his entire body on fire.
“What do you mean you just found out about it tonight?” he demanded, between raining kisses on her sweet neck.
She shivered. “They were not sure they’d have anyone to help pull this off.”
He inserted two fingers into her, intoxicated and surprised by her dewiness, and continued to thumb her clit. She jerked up. He wanted to know what she meant, but mo
re than anything he wanted to make her come. Forgetting the conversation for now, he roared to his feet, stooped and lifted her into his arms, then sloshed to the bedroom and laid her on the bed.
She laughed, a full, throaty sound that elicited a chuckle from him. Masculine satisfaction filled him. He positioned her knees on her chest, exposing her pussy to him. Keeping a tight hold on her ankles, he speared his tongue inside of her, darting in and out of her, encouraged by her moans.
Intoxicated by her scent and her taste, he licked her seam, found her clit, and released her ankles with reluctance. Using his fingers to open her delicate pussy lips, he laved back and forth. Her groans grew louder. Gripping his hair, she grinded against his mouth. He hastened the speed of his tongue, increasing the pressure against her clit.
“Let’s come together, baby,” she breathed, as if that was the last thing she wanted to do.
He blew on her clit, stole another lick. “No—”
But she was already scooting up, moving to the side to make room for him. He laid next to her and pulled her into his arms, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, sweeping against hers.
“Knox,” she whispered.
He tangled his fingers through her hair. “I’m here, Roxanne. I love you. I’m so glad to have you as mine. To feel you in my arms again.”
“I love you too, Knox. I can’t wait until I’m your wife.”
She kissed him sweetly, this private, vulnerable side of her in direct contrast to the tough woman she presented to the world. Not that she wasn’t a firecracker when they were alone. In bed, though, where their souls were laid bare and their bodies exposed, she opened herself to him and gave to him. The intimacy he found in her arms extended beyond the physical.
He met her gaze and her light brown depths consumed him, threatened to overwhelm him. She offered him a little cat’s smile, the kind that drove him insane.
Kissing him again, she sat up and straddled his thighs, bent and began planting kisses on his chest. She twirled her tongue around his nipple, trailed her lips to his heart, his side, his hip. His nerve endings blazed, set his blood on fire. Overcome with sensation, he shivered.
Her mouth teased his manscape, semi-circled around his cock and licked his balls. She fisted his dick head, stroked along the length, and gently suckled his nut sac.
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 462