She pushed her salad greens around on her plate and listened half-heartedly to Johnnie’s conversation. It took her a moment to realize he’d stopped talking. She raised her gaze to his.
“The elves won’t leave you anything. They want good cheer, Megs.”
Meggie sighed and laid her fork aside. “I’m sorry I’m not good company. You’ve been so kind, too.”
He smiled. “I get that you’re lonely,” he said quietly. “There’s no remedy for a broken heart except time. I really thought he’d realize what he was doing and stay away a day, two at most.” He thrust his fingers through his hair, agitated. “But his leaving…there are things…he’s trying to protect you."
“He never promised me anything, so I’m fine. I’ve survived worse.” She blinked away tears, the truth bitter in her throat. He hadn’t even promised they’d spend Christmas together. Judging by all the plans they’d made, she’d just assumed they would.
They fell into silence as the rest of the meal was served. Meggie declined dessert, grateful that Johnnie did the same. She kept her head turned toward the window on the drive back to Patricia’s house. However, she swiveled her gaze to Johnnie when, after turning on the private road, he stopped at the second house instead of continuing on to the end.
“My house,” he clarified. “Spend the night with me,” he urged softly.
In the dark night, shadows hid Johnnie’s expressions, although desire hummed in his low tone.
“Just because Christopher is sleeping with other women doesn’t mean I have to do the same.”
A flash of white, the showing of his teeth, as he smiled. “No,” he murmured. “And you wouldn’t be doing the same. The last time I checked I’m a man, not a woman.”
Meggie scowled. “You know what I mean!”
“I do, Megs,” he said with a sigh, all humor gone.
Meggie studied her clasped hands where they rested on her lap. She liked Johnnie and she was more aware of him than she should’ve been. But the thought of getting naked in front of him, while allowing him the liberties to do all the things to her body Christopher had done, disconcerted her. Though Johnnie had been nothing but sweet and kind, an utter gentleman, a shoulder to lean on, a friend to confide in, she still felt a certain loyalty to Christopher. In the dark of night, she’d touch herself, hearing the deep rumble of Christopher’s voice in her head as he made love to her, imagine the feel of his big hands all over her body, his work-roughened fingers and palms caressing her sensitive skin. She’d come, always with the thought of Christopher, never of his sexy cousin. That had to say something. She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Do you think Outlaw is alone?” he asked. His voice held no malice, just curiosity.
She shook her head, the implication cutting through her. “No. I-I guess he’s with Kiera. And Ellen,” she added after a brief pause.
He unhooked his seatbelt and caressed her cheek. “Outlaw…Christopher,” he amended, “has a deep-seated sense of decency toward the innocent, Megan.”
He got out of the car and came around to her side, opening her door for her and holding his hand out. She accepted it and stepped down. The night was clear and mild, the sky black velvet with glittering stars.
He bent his head and took a slow, leisurely kiss from her. His lips were gentle and coaxing, sipping from her mouth when his tongue found hers, completely different from their first kiss. He tasted of wine and smelled faintly of aftershave. Meggie stood on her tiptoes and leaned further into the kiss. He drew her closer and pressed his throbbing erection into her belly.
She pulled her mouth away and turned her head.
“Megs,” he murmured huskily, then nipped her ear. “I want you. I swear Christopher will never know if you two work things out. I’m lonely. You’re lonely. Why shouldn’t we make love and find comfort in each other?”
“Because there should be real feelings involved,” she blurted. She stilled, wishing she could kick herself since they both knew Christopher didn’t have real feelings for her. Bracing herself for Johnnie’s mockery, she tensed. “Besides, I’m not one of the club girls to sleep with whoever wants me at any particular moment.”
“Of course you aren’t,” he snapped. “None of us see you that way.”
“It doesn’t matter how you all see me, but it matters how I see myself.”
“Megan–”
“Anyway, I’m not on any sort of birth control,” she admitted in a small voice. She was beginning to fear Christopher had left his baby inside of her.
Johnnie paused and she felt the weight of his gaze on her. “Condoms work.”
Meggie refused to say anything more. “I can walk to Patricia’s house.” She ducked under his arm and around his body, refusing to acknowledge her achy nipples and wet sex.
He caught up to her but she didn’t slow her stride. He adjusted his steps to her shorter pace. “Why are you lonely?” she asked after a few minutes of walking in silence.
“My girlfriend decided to marry someone else.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it. “That must’ve been devastating.”
“It was,” he agreed. “But I wanted her happy. I left the club to make her happy. In the long run, we weren’t right for each other.”
“It’s hard to imagine you not being right for someone.”
His teeth flashed again. “That so?” he asked, smug. “That means I’m right for you?”
“I walked right into that, didn’t I?” She chuckled.
“I’m afraid you did.”
A few moments later, they reached the porch. She opened the door since Patricia didn’t believe in locking anything and turned to Johnnie. With the porch light on, she saw his beautiful gray eyes and handsome face. He kissed her again.
“Invite me in. There are other ways to give each other pleasure. I don’t have to penetrate you.”
Patricia had already retired and the house was quiet. Emptiness loomed and the temptation to give in to Johnnie almost overwhelmed her. He wanted to use his tongue on her and Christopher had taught her how to enjoy that. What would it hurt?
“Licking your pussy isn’t the same as putting my dick in you,” he said, nuzzling her neck.
Meggie pressed her hand to her belly. If Christopher’s baby grew inside of her, she couldn’t give herself to anyone else. They’d become lovers about a month ago and she was growing more and more anxious waiting for her period.
Johnnie licked her ear and Meggie gasped. “You smell so fucking good,” he rumbled. “And I want you so fucking bad, Megan.”
“Y-you promised,” she murmured in an unsteady voice.
“I know but you’re so fucking gorgeous and, tonight, fuck…tonight, Megan. In that little red lace dress.”
He looked like temptation himself wearing a tan Henley, camouflage chinos, and black leather jacket, left casually open.
“Baby, I swear,” he said, clasping her waist, “I swear, I’ll make you come so many times.” His thumb flickered over her sensitive nipple. “Let me come to your room.” He kissed her throat. “Lay you on your bed.” A lick to the pulse point at her neck. “Shove your dress above your waist.” He brushed her lips with his mouth, teased her nipple again. “Spread your pussy open.” He sucked her bottom lip and she moaned. “Taste your clit with the tip of my tongue.” Covering her nipple with his mouth, he suckled, hard, the wet heat of his tongue sparking fire in her, even though her dress still covered her breast. He bit the hardened tip and Meggie cried out, stars exploding behind her eyes, her body weaker than her intentions.
One arm around her waist, he kissed her deeper and Meggie kissed him back, allowing him to guide her hand to his penis. She caressed the slippery head, spreading his moisture, then fisted him, doing everything Christopher taught her. His hand slipped into her panties and he tore his mouth from hers.
“You’re fucking soaked. For me,” he growled, caressing her clit and slipping two fingers inside her. Her pulls and strokes on his penis g
rew harder while the in and out motion of his fingers sent shivers through her and she cried out against his mouth.
His grunts lowered and harshened with each thrust into her hand. Meggie could hold off no longer and shudders racked her body, his fingers massaging her slippery inner walls, his thumb circling her clit. He swallowed her soft cries, her orgasm tipping him over the edge and hot semen gushed from him, raining onto her fingertips and his Henley.
Slowly, he backed away from her and she stood there, trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm and his overwhelming passion. Their heavy breathing punctuated the silence, but Meggie didn’t know what to say. He used his shirt to clean her fingers, then tipped her chin up.
“Christopher is one lucky fucker.” He sighed. “I’d fight an army to have you, Megan, but you don’t want me. You want him.”
Unable to dispute that, she whispered, “I’ve never lied to you. But it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want me.”
“If Christopher doesn’t come back soon, I won’t rub your pussy while you jerk me off standing on a fucking porch. We’ll be in my bed. You’ll be fair game.”
“It seems like I was fair game, anyway.”
He smiled and knuckled her lips. “Not really. Besides, you’re underestimating my cousin.”
“What if I am? I’ve just betrayed him. Christopher doesn’t know who to trust because whoever he trusts always seem to let him down.” She lowered her lashes. “Like this. Me. Us. He deserves better than what I’ve done with you tonight.”
Johnnie hugged her and sighed. “I know, Megan. Being in the club, though, we always shared girls.”
“I’ve heard and seen more than I care to in the club,” she admitted, then shifted her weight. “Do you really think I’ve underestimated him? That he’ll return?”
He patted her hair. “Yes. Sooner or later. I can’t guarantee what he’ll say to you or want from you. Just remember—if you two end up together, this is our secret.”
It wasn’t as if she’d advertise she and Johnnie had masturbated each other to orgasm. Nor was it likely Christopher would care even if she did advertise it. Johnnie would only defend Christopher, so she nodded.
“I’m serious, Megs. If you like my pretty face attached to my head, you won’t ever mention this to anyone.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Now, you’re being dramatic.”
“And, now, you’re underestimating not only Christopher but his wrath, too. He’d fucking kill me if he knew I seduced you.”
Meggie shrugged, not believing the sentiment. ‘It’s our secret. Besides, you didn’t seduce me without my participation.” She only wished the orgasm she’d had had taken away the agony of Christopher’s continued absence.
“All right, Megs,” he said and gave her a soft kiss on her lips. ”I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, he backed away, went down the steps and soon disappeared into the darkness, leaving Meggie to dwell on her life until this point and wondering what her next move should be.
CHRISTOPHER LEANED HIS BACK AGAINST the headboard of his bed in his room at the clubhouse, drinking a beer and listening to Apologize by OneRepublic. That song, along with one of Megan’s favorites, When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars, and Meant by Elizaveta—a favorite of Mortician—played on repeat. Regret rode him hard. He wished he’d never left Meggie at his mother’s house. Several times, he thought of rejoining her. Then, he remembered his predicament caught him between a partial truth and the murder of her father, and he didn’t have good answers for either, so he ignored her calls and stayed at the club. It was time well-spent. He checked inventory, and double-checked the books. He sent “gifts” to the police chief and extra money to the hospital for their pediatric ward for the kids to have an extra special holiday.
Business went on as usual. But he missed Megan and regretted not being with her to carry through on all they’d talked about. Everything at the club was the same, except she wasn’t there with him, and everything felt different without her.
All around him, Ellen, Kiera, and some of the other bitches were decorating, planning a big meal but without Megan included, as she had been for Thanksgiving. It wasn’t as if there were old ladies around, who the boys had to hide the whores from. If it wasn’t for the bitches who hung around, it’d just be a bunch of dicks there for the holidays. When Christopher saw the Christmas tree in the main room, he winced, remembering what he’d promised Megan. He’d left her in Johnnie’s hands, but, as the days passed, he realized he’d made a mistake and hoped Johnnie hadn’t seduced her yet. Megan was a light in Christopher’s life, the shining star he was doing his best to extinguish.
A knock sounded on his door.
“Come in,” he called, grabbing his smokes from the table and lighting one as Kiera pushed the door open.
He blew out smoke through his nostrils and eyed her long legs, tiny, frilled skirt and cropped tee. It was obvious she wore no bra.
She leaned against the closed door. “I figured since Meggie’s gone, we could fuck.”
Silent, Christopher took a drag of his cigarette, then gulped some beer. Kiera wouldn’t move without him urging her forward. He could fuck Kiera, just like he swore to Megan he would. It’s just that he couldn’t really. He didn’t want twenty-five-year-old pussy anymore. He wanted eighteen-year-old pussy and not just any eighteen-year-old pussy, but the one belonging to a beautiful little bitch who skirted the edges of bratdom.
“Ain’t interested,” he said.
Kiera’s eyes widened. “Is she coming back?”
He shrugged, wanting to be with Megan more than anything. He prayed to God she’d come back. It didn’t matter that he no longer believed in God. Megan was important to Christopher. Innocent. Sweet. Untouched by any man but him. He prayed to God Johnnie hadn’t touched her. After warning Johnnie to keep his hands to himself, he’d pushed her right into his cousin’s arms. “We gonna see. I ain’t sure right now.”
“Then–”
He squashed his cigarette. “Then, nothin’. I ain’t gonna have her walkin’ round here with you smilin’ in her face, knowin’ you fucked me and would fuck me whenever she gone.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t that what usually happens with old ladies?” she asked, sounding genuinely confused.
“Yeah. Don’t make me no difference. It ain’t happenin’ to my old lady.” No matter if she thought that was exactly what would happen. “Just go, Kiera. I got shit to work out in my head.”
“I like Meggie,” she said quietly. “She’s a good girl. Don’t seem like she’s cut out to be an old lady, though. Especially your old lady. She’s a real good girl.”
“She tougher than you think,” he snapped, her words getting to the heart of the matter and playing on all his fears. Some of the same fears his mother had played on.
“You love her?”
He glowered at her, refusing to even entertain the notion. “Go.”
Thank fuck. She left.
For the next three days, Christopher took care of club business, disappearing two of the fuckers who’d been with Snake that day at the mall when Megan had gone with Ellen and Kiera. He had his boys see to a shipment while he collected the money. He met with the president of the club from the next town over, assuring the man’s allegiance against Snake and the other dissenters. Except for smoking Snake out of his pit, he’d gotten shit done, making it relatively safe to get Megan back.
THE WIND WHISPERED THROUGH THE trees edging the cemetery, the breeze cool against Christopher’s face. An arc of color—magenta, orange, purple, red—painted the evening sky, but a lone ray of sunlight burst through the coming dusk and glimmered off the black marble he faced.
He stared at the gold lettering. “Big Joe” Joseph “Boss” Foy. A man amongst men.
Before he brought Megan, Christopher wanted to make sure everything would suit the man she’d loved. He’d never expected his emotions to well up, unfeeling motherfucker that he was. He’d thought he’d want to piss on the monum
ent, not fall on his knees and howl with rage at the same time he begged forgiveness.
Heaving in a ragged breath, he traced the inscription. The date of Boss’s birth. The date of the man’s death.
“You motherfucker,” he snarled. “Why? Why you make me fuckin’ do that to you?” A sob escaped him and everything knotted up inside of him. He hated Boss so much, but he loved him, too. Despite everything, the vileness of his last months, the jeopardy he’d put the club in, the way he’d let down Megan, Christopher loved Boss. He leaned his head against the headstone. No, not a headstone. Nothing so simple for Big Joe. Christopher had insisted he wanted to impress Megan, so he’d ordered an obelisk erected with a leaf top carving. It stood alone, on a small rise, towards the back of the cemetery. But, standing there, he knew he believed, somewhere deep inside himself, Boss deserved such a tribute. Or the man he’d once been deserved it.
Angry tears. Bitter tears. Tears of grief and guilt, sorrow and anguish. The water leaking from Christopher’s eyes and raining down his cheeks contained so much welled-up feelings, he thought he might go mad, as hollow as the empty grave the obelisk rose above.
“Goddamn you. You hear me, Joseph Fuckin’ Foy? God fuckin’ damn you. You turned into a fuckin’, goddamn monster. You deserved puttin’ down like a fuckin’ dirty dog. But why me? Why you gotta make me do it? YOU HEAR ME, MOTHERFUCKER?”
His yell echoed in the eerie silence, where only the trees, the sky, and the souls of all those buried there absorbed it. He drew in ragged breaths to calm himself, relieved as fuck he hadn’t seen this for the first time when he brought Megan. Right now, Christopher couldn’t be sure when he’d let her see this. She needed closure, needed to grieve, but, fuck, this brought his grief on.
He was such a selfish fuck, trash, like Zoann said. He’d gotten this to show Megan. To win brownie points with her, he guessed, hoping she’d somehow overlook the fact he’d killed her daddy. As if she’d ever forgive him if she found out. He couldn’t stay away from her, though, needing her now more than ever.
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 24