She touched his side, roamed around to his washboard-hard stomach, going lower still to grip his erection through his jeans. She slid off the bike and got to her feet. Christopher looked at her, his eyes a green enigma, his face rough with five o’clock shadow. She took off her boots and socks, curled her toes at the feel of the cool earth beneath her feet.
Meeting and holding his gaze, she unfastened her leather pants, then slid them down her legs. When they pooled at her feet, she stepped out of them. Christopher lifted her by the waist and sat her in front of him. Grabbing her throat, he bent and smashed his mouth against hers, sweeping his tongue past her lips in hot demand. Her legs wrapped around his waist, Meggie twirled her tongue around his, giving him what he needed and wanted, grinding against him. He grunted, a primeval, animalistic sound that sent a rush of wetness between her legs. She thrust her fingers through his hair, consumed by his fierce possession, intoxicated by his sheer domination. This kiss wasn’t gentle and mild and sweet. It was wet and wild, the kind that led to fucking and not lovemaking.
He released his hold on her, inserted his hand between their bodies and ripped her panties away.
“Turn,” he ordered.
Desire spread through her body at his rough tone. Once she faced forward, she grabbed the handlebars. A moment later, she felt the smooth head of his cock teasing the entrance of her pussy. He grabbed her hips and thrust fully into her. The vibrations of the idling bike massaged her clit each time it came into contact with the fuel tank. She groaned, squeezed the throttle on the handlebar to heighten the stimulation. He pounded into her, with hard, fast strokes that made Meggie cry out over and over again. Christopher worked her pussy with ruthless skill.
Her screams of pleasure crescendoed as her orgasm hit and her body shook. Christopher pummeled her, then stiffened, pouring into her with a harsh groan.
Suddenly, the silence surrounded her and the vibrations of the bike stopped. Christopher had cut the engine. She remained still, catching her breath, allowing her body and mind to reconnect.
“You okay, baby?”
She nodded. “Perfect.”
“You ready to head back?”
Her eyes popped open and she sat up. “I brought snacks for us. Let’s commune with nature and talk a bit.”
She got off the bike and grabbed her pants, pulling them on, taking care because of her sensitive clit. By the time she put her socks and boots back on, Christopher had found the blanket, beer, Coke, and sandwiches she’d packed in the saddle bag. Together, they arranged the blanket underneath a tree. Meggie sat and leaned against the trunk, smiling as Christopher laid his head in her lap.
She bent and brushed his lips with her own, brushing her fingers through his black hair. The gray entwining with the dark strands made him even sexier.
“You know what the fuck I been thinkin’, Megan?” he asked after a sweet silence where they just enjoyed being in each other’s presence. “Roxanne and Bailey gettin’ married, but the fuckin’ ceremonies the last thing on my fuckin’ mind.”
“I know what you mean,” Meggie agreed. “I know plans are being made and nearly a month has already gone by since Knox proposed, but…” Her voice trailed off.
“A fuckin’ weddin’ the last thing on any motherfucker mind,” Christopher finished for her. “Even the motherfuckers the weddin’ for.”
Meggie nodded. “What’s going on? It seems like our ceremonies are always filled with drama. Remember when we were planning our church wedding?”
He looked at her. “Ain’t able to forget that bullshit, baby. Cee Cee was on the fuckin’ loose. You was left a dead fuckin’ head. I almost got my fuckin’ ass shot the fuck off.”
“But we ended up married anyway. I hope things work out that way for Roxy and Bailey.”
“Look at the shit this way. If the ceremony called off, I ain’t gotta wear a fuckin’ monkey suit.”
Meggie giggled. “You’re sooo bad, Christopher.”
“My ass ain’t knowin’ how the fuck you got me to fuckin’ wear a fuckin’ tux more than one fuckin’ time.”
“I ask you really nice.”
“No, you bat your pussy at me and I ain’t able to fuckin’ resist.”
She laughed, bent and kissed his forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“My cock back to it-fuckin-self, so I’m fuckin’ fine.” He flattened his palm against her belly. “Motherfucker so good I probably fuckin’ filled you with my kid.”
Unable to stop herself, she kissed him again. “I don’t want you to be disappointed if it doesn’t happen soon.”
He tipped his head up to her, and grinned, a combination of confident smirk and disarming charm. If she’d still been wearing panties, they would’ve melted off.
“What you gonna be if it take awhile for me to knock you up? Disappointed or relieved?”
“Disappointed,” she said without hesitation.
“You sure about that?”
She nodded. “I swear.” She sighed. “You’d had a vasectomy, Christopher, so I had to make myself content that we wouldn’t have any more children unless we adopted again. A baby this time.”
“When we got Diesel he was self-sufficient. Motherfucker ain’t needed his ass-wiped. I ain’t needed to show him how to piss. He ain’t needed to be fed. If we woulda adopted a-fuckin-gain, my vote woulda been for a older kid.”
“I understand, but I love the baby stage. Yet, I-I…” Her voice trailed off as she tried to arrange the words in her head. “I don’t want to be nothing but a baby-making machine. I also have my figure back.”
“You never lost your goddamn figure. You always perfect in my eyes.”
She could never express the joy and contentment she felt because she belonged to Christopher. He kept her on a pedestal; never hid the fact that she was the most important thing in his life.
“You was just five or ten pounds heavier.”
“My stomach had paunches.”
“Your stomach had fuckin’ proof you was a ma. Your stomach goddamn beautiful. You kept my kids safe.”
“I still have the stretchmarks,” she reminded him. “My belly is toned again but there’s still reminders of my pregnancies.”
Sitting up, Christopher settled next to her, then pulled her into his arms and settled her between his thighs. He kissed the top of her head.
“You a girl, so I guess you gonna worry about your body. Baby, as long as you you, I ain’t givin’ a fuck if you a size two or a size twenty-two. It ain’t about your weight, height, or age. It’s about your fuckin’ outlook on life. It’s about what the fuck inside of you.”
Drawing her knees up, she rested against her husband. “I know, and I love you all the more for it.”
“Suppose I ain’t never had my dick snip? You woulda pushed out one or two more lil’ motherfuckers by now. Would your belly bothered you?”
Meggie thought about that for a moment, then glanced up. He must’ve felt her gaze on him because he looked down. The curve of his lips, the sight of his stubble, invited her to lift-up and steal another kiss.
“Hmm,” he murmured after she pulled away. “Can’t keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself this evenin’, huh, baby?”
She climbed into his lap and bounced, giggling when his cock stirred. “I’ve missed having you inside of me.”
He bit her chin. “I miss bein’ in you.”
She rolled her pussy against his growing erection. “I’ve missed you coming on my tongue.”
“What a dirty lil’ bitch,” he growled, thumbing her aching nipples. “We shoulda went in the cage, then you coulda wore a skirt. I woulda just lifted the motherfucker, took my big dick out and buried it in your lil’ cunt.”
As he spoke, he held her and guided them to the blanket, lifting himself on his elbows and hovering over her. Bending his head, he stole long kisses, worshipping her mouth with leisure. He slid her shirt up, exposing her belly, and running his fingertips along her heated skin, leaving a trail of goosebu
mps. He took care in exploring her recesses with sweet, gentle touches that left Meggie gasping.
He slid down her body, parting her thighs with his shoulders, and burying his face between her legs.
Meggie arched in frustration, needing to feel the contact of his tongue without the barrier of leather. “Take off my pants,” she whined.
He responded by sitting up and untying first one boot, and then the other before sliding her pants off, aided by her kicks.
He smirked at her. “You wantcha pussy ate bad, huh, baby?”
“Yes,” she groaned, lifting her hips. “Please.”
“Keep your ass in the air and hold your cunt lips open,” he ordered.
Trembling, Meggie followed his directions. He bumped her clit with the tip of his nose before sniffing her seam, teasing her without mercy. Her juices bubbled at the anticipation to feel his tongue on her most sensitive areas. He inserted a finger inside of her.
“Lick me!” she demanded.
His laughter fanned his breath over her wet flesh, but he stopped her torture, fluttering her clit with the flat of his tongue, circling her lips and tickling her fingers because she still held herself open to him. Moving her hands away and taking his finger out of her, he drew her sensitive bud between his teeth and sucked her.
Meggie twisted and screamed, the pain morphing into pleasure, and sending her over the edge. She came with such force she thought she might faint. Instead of giving her a chance to recover, he buried himself inside of her.
“Fuck, baby, you so fuckin’ wet,” he breathed, masculine and satisfied. Slanting his mouth over hers, he pumped into her.
His lips and tongue tasted and smelled of her, driving Meggie insane. She writhed underneath him. When he withdrew, she lifted her hips to meet his downstroke and rolled against his cock.
“Come in my mouth.”
“Fuuccckkk, Megan,” he managed, increasing his tempo into her, harsh pants escaping him. “I’m about to nut.” He withdrew from her, rose up, and brought his cock to her mouth.
She wrapped her lips around his hot cockhead, and sucked, before opening her mouth and exposing her tongue, allowing his seed to gush out. Drunk from his salty taste, she lapped every last drop, vaguely away of his strangled groans. She massaged his testicles, coaxing a last bit of cum from him. He shuddered, then stretched out next to her and drew her into his arms. Drowsy, she snuggled close to him.
“I shouldna tore your panties,” he said into the silence, a few moments later.
Meggie’s eyes popped open. “You didn’t hurt me and I have more.”
“It ain’t that, baby.” He sat up and lit a cigarette, before continuing. “I got a cock, so I ain’t gonna have pussy itch,” he offered around plumes of smoke.
Lifting her head, Meggie frowned. “What?”
“Leather and wet pussy equal itchy cunt.”
She glared at him, then sat up, her hair falling in tangles around her. “Omigod, that’s disgusting.”
“Ain’t givin’ a fuck. That shit real. And you fuckin’ know it.”
“Christopher, why are we discussing yeast infections after making love?”
“Just worried about your pussy, Megan.”
Unable to help herself, she laughed. “I appreciate that. As soon as we get home, I’ll run and take a shower.”
He nodded, satisfied. “Don’t wait to get that stuff if you start itchin’.”
“Would you shut up?” Meggie said on a sniff.
Snickering, he jammed his cigarette into the corner of his mouth, got to his feet, and straightened his clothes. Meggie thought it best to keep her own off. Just in case…
She grabbed the bag containing the sandwiches, handed Christopher his once he finished his cigarette, and sat down again, and then got her own, before opening her Coke and sipping.
She broke off a piece of her sandwich and held it up to Christopher’s mouth. He grabbed the food with his lips, then offered her a bit of his sandwich. They continued this back-and-forth until both sandwiches were gone. Opening a beer, Christopher took a deep swallow.
The conversation before their lovemaking came back to her and she realized she hadn’t answered him. “If you’d never gotten your vasectomy, I think I would’ve given the size of my belly just a passing thought. But, after the procedure, I had to satisfy myself, so I think I built up a bunch of excuses in my head.”
“Megan, the last thing I ever wantcha to fuckin’ do is think my ass take you for granted. You ain’t a baby-makin’ machine. You just the girl I love that got a fertile fuckin’ cunt. I just gotta look at that motherfucker and fuckin’ think about comin’ and you fuckin’ knocked up.”
They laughed together at his words, before he sobered up again.
“I’m so fuckin’ lucky that you honor me and treasure me e-fuckin-nuff to keep my babies, Megan.” His tone was quiet, almost sad. “That you…” Shrugging, he glanced away, then met her gaze again. “My ass just glad you ain’t sayin’ you abortin’ my kid cuz you tired of bein’ pregnant or we got too fuckin’ many. If that’s what the fuck you wanna do, Ima support you. As long as you happy—”
Crawling into his lap, Meggie kissed him tenderly, then placed a finger over his lips. “Stop,” she whispered. “All I’ve been hearing lately is as long as I’m happy. I’m happy because of you. My life has meaning because of you. You and our kids are my world, Christopher. And I go to sleep every night and wake up every morning knowing that I have your unconditional love and undying support for any and everything I do. What’s gotten into you?”
“Ain’t nothin’ I ain’t said before.”
She took his face between her hands. “Hey! Stop this.” She kissed him. “I know you think my kidnapping—”
He stiffened and turned his head away. “Don’t fuckin’ bring that up, Megan.”
“It affected both of us in more ways than I can count,” she admitted. “But it wasn’t your fault. You always do everything in your power to keep me safe.”
“Except kill fuckin’ Kendall,” he growled, lifting her up and setting her beside him. Sidling her a scowl, he finished his beer than opened another bottle. “I hate that fuckin’ bitch. She deserve to be fuckin’ dead.”
Her husband hated to feel powerless. The fact that he’d been unable to prevent her from being taken—and that Kendall had been the catalyst—gnawed at him. He wanted justice. Even the fight Meggie and Kendall had had wasn’t enough in Christopher’s eyes. He didn’t say it, but Meggie knew him. Knew he struggled with the helplessness of their nightmares and the fear that something else might befall her.
“Think of Johnnie and their children. If you kill Kendall—”
“I would do them a fuckin’ favor. I want John Boy to meet another bitch.”
“He’s not going to as long as he’s married to Kendall.”
“Another fuckin’ reason that bitch gotta die.”
“Christopher!”
“What?” he grouched.
“Tell me you aren’t planning to kill her. She’s on the No-Kill list. You promised me she’d be safe.”
A muscle throbbing in his jaw, he looked away. Alarmed, Meggie grabbed his face and turned him back to face her.
“Don’t kill her.” Another thought popped into her head, goaded by what he mentioned about Johnnie needing to meet someone else. “And don’t interfere in their marriage. How would you feel if someone tried to break us up by introducing me to another man?”
“First of fuckin’ all, a motherfucker try to intro-fuckin-duce you to another motherfucker or me to another fuckin’ bitch and he or she dead.”
“You’ve been…you know…talking about killing a lot recently.”
“Maybe, cuz I ain’t fucked up a motherfucker in months. E-fuckin-specially the bitch that need fuckin’ up.”
“Kendall is more to be pitied than to be scorned.” A good reminder for herself, too.
“Nope. That bitch deserve nothin’ but fuckin’ scorn.”
This
was an argument she wouldn’t win, especially given the recent turn Meggie’s relationship with Kendall had taken. “Christopher, my breaking point with Kendall, doesn’t mean you have free reign to harm her.”
“Can’t harm a fuckin’ demon, Megan. You just exorcise that motherfucker away.”
“If you kill Kendall, you’ll ruin Roxy and Bailey’s wedding plans.”
“If that bitch die, that don’t mean a fuckin’ thing. Added to all the other fuckin’ shit that happened on our fuckin’ church weddin’ day was Val gettin’ shot. Did that fuckin’ stop our fuckin’ ceremony?”
Chugging his beer and lighting a cigarette, he got to his feet. “It’s gonna be dark soon. Let’s fuckin’ roll out.”
Huffing out a breath, Meggie grabbed her pants and pulled them on. “Leave Kendall alone,” she ordered, shoving a foot into her sock in a jerky motion. “Leave her marriage alone. Let her and Johnnie figure things out.”
“What the fuck ever.”
“Promise me,” she insisted.
He stared at her, then released a puff of smoke. “Yeah, Megan,” he said, then glared at her, turned on his heel, and stomped to his bike, where he mounted up and started the engine.
Glowering at her stubborn husband, she finished putting her shoes and socks on, then stood. After gathering their mess and grabbing the blanket, she went to Christopher. She stuffed the trash in one of the saddlebags, folded the blanket, and put it away, too.
Once she’d climbed into her seat and he started off, Meggie deflated. It didn’t escape her that Christopher hadn’t actually given his word about Kendall. Therefore, whatever happened, he wouldn’t have broken the promise Meggie demanded.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Wearing safety glasses, Christopher walked amongst the tables in one of the club’s warehouses, studying each plant carefully. Even though he’d relegated the day-to-day care of the grows to Slipper and Potter, club members handpicked by Christopher, he still felt as if the hydrogrows were his own personal pet project. At least once a week he visited to make sure the right amount of light from each lamp shone on the plants at the perfect angle. He checked the moisture, looking for any signs that a plant needed to be thrown the fuck out. The clones were thriving in the soil he’d mixed with coco and perlite. Still, he was using soil, which meant he had to watch for fungus, bugs, and rot.
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