Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books

by Kathryn C. Kelly

  He rubbed his eyes.

  Did he want to know the truth? Didn’t he already know? Deep down in his gut where instinct had saved him more than once? Only, it had failed him a whole fucking lot, too, recently. Suppose Val hadn’t been high? And suppose he hadn’t known what the fuck he was doing or who he was doing it with? Suppose Val hadn’t tried to take pussy from Megan? Nobody would tell Christopher, especially Megan. He wanted to be mad at her for keeping shit from him, but that was just a part of her growing up.

  Girls kept some shit to themselves and Christopher could deal with that. What he couldn’t deal with was his wife protecting motherfuckers who didn’t need protection. Had never had it. And would never get it. From her or because of her. Megan won. Hands down. Everytime. But she had weak spots for certain motherfuckers and her biggest one faced Christopher right the fuck then. He narrowed his eyes at Johnnie. “Stay the fuck outta me and Megan private shit.”

  “I don’t like seeing her upset. I’ve done my share of upsetting her but you, asshole, holds her heart in your hands.”

  A heart that was broken. A heart Christopher couldn’t fix for her. A heart he’d choose over his little sister’s. Fuck. He pinned Johnnie with a stare, sick to his fucking stomach. “Some fuckin’—”

  “I have Kendall,” Johnnie interrupted with impatience, “but I’m not the only motherfucker who wanted his dick in her. How’d you like seeing her wrapped around me on my fucking bike? Think about her naked body entwined around some motherfucker while he’s fucking her.”

  “Shut the fuck up.” Christopher had never considered another motherfucker with Megan. It had always been the motherfucker in front of him. Even though John Boy had Kendall, Christopher sensed he’d still get Megan into bed if he could.

  The heart and the dick had nothing to do with one another. From Mort’s perspective, he didn’t want Bailey to have either from him. Val had long ago given Zoann his heart. His dick was a different story. Johnnie loved Kendall and every little piece of him belonged to her, except the part he’d always reserve for Megan, the part that made him scream and holler at her and push her the fuck away when he’d met Kendall. He hadn’t known, until it was almost too late and he’d ruined their friendship, that Megan had given him the tiniest bit of her heart, the small piece that he’d soothed and nurtured while Christopher had been too busy rejecting her.

  That was fine. This entire fucking fucked-up clusterfuck was a part of life and adjusting to other people, learning what love was. Christopher trusted Johnnie with his money, his son, his life. But not his wife. Never his wife.

  He loved Megan body and soul. She owned every part of him. They’d work this out just as they always worked everything out. She was alive for him to work shit out with him. Spoon had done his best to not have that be a fact. And…fuck him, if…if…FUCK.

  Fuck him, he wanted to get to Kendall, do to her what he hadn’t had a chance to do to Spoon. He fucking hated her. But he’d promised Megan to stand down for Johnnie’s sake. And, maybe he could. If he had his girl back. If, every time he looked at her, he didn’t see her collapsing over little Patrick’s coffin.

  He growled in frustration. “How the fuck my girl got on your fucking bike?”

  “Well, she has these fucking things called legs. She planted those fucking things called feet on the ground, put one in front the other, moved her fucking legs, and got to my bike.”

  “One of these fuckin’ days, I’m knockin’ your smart fuckin’ ass the fuck out.” Disgusted, he threw the cigarette to the ground with a growl. Another smoke up in fucking useless flames. “You know what the fuck I mean. Why you brought her here? What she told you?”

  “Nothing, Christopher. I kept her company today and decided to offer after I talked to Kendall.”

  “So your bitch know you sniffin’ behind my wife?” It relieved Christopher that Johnnie hadn’t done this behind Kendall’s back. He didn’t like Johnnie’s shrug, though, and fucking hating the motherfucker not denying Christopher’s charge of sniffing.

  “I’m not fucking up anything I have with Kendall. Why wouldn’t she know?”

  “What the fuck ever.” Maybe, the fucking money he paid that psycho camp was helping that bitch out. He turned toward the door and studied it, imagining Megan on the other side. Just as it began to open, he looked at Johnnie again. “Goodnight, assfuck,” he said, tension easing from his gut and the sudden need for Megan overwhelming him. He started for the room.

  “Christopher?”

  He halted at Johnnie’s call, backtracked, and lifted a brow.

  Johnnie gripped the handlebars. “I’m fucking human. I’ll never touch Megan. But I’m fucking human,” he repeated.

  Appreciating his honesty—but fucking detesting it—Christopher nodded and started to respond. Megan’s voice stopped him.

  “Christopher?”

  He glanced over his shoulder and found her in the doorway, wearing only the shirt he’d discarded hours ago.

  “Later, John Boy,” Christopher called over his shoulder, already dismissing his brother and heading to his wife. As he walked into the room and closed the door, Johnnie’s Harley sped away.

  Christopher stared at her. In her gaze, he saw nothing of his turmoil.

  He saw questions that he wasn’t in the mood to answer. He noted desire that he didn’t have the patience to nurture. He didn’t want to talk and he didn’t want lovemaking. He wanted a hard, rough fuck. From her. He needed her even though he needed to suspend his heart and ride her as if she were his whore. Not his love. Not the mother of his boy.

  Unzipping his pants, he pulled his cock out. “Suck my dick.”

  Her lips parted at his rough demand, a rush of pink sweeping into her cheeks. Scampering to him, she dropped to her knees and slid her tongue along the underside of his dick, twirling it around the throbbing head before teasing it past her lips. She nibbled the end and he sucked in a breath, his toes curling at the sensation of pain. Their gazes clashed and his lip twisted. Burying his hands in her golden hair, he pushed into her mouth, stretching her lips around his cock, the tip touching the back of her throat.

  Her throat muscles relaxed and his cock slid deeper. He pulled back and slammed into her mouth again, tightening his hold in her hair, wishing he could fit his entire dick down her throat. He groaned and repeated the motion.

  “Fuck!” he snarled when she sucked his cock instead of allowing it to touch the back of her throat. She took a few long pulls on his hard flesh and he swelled a little more. Withdrawing his dick, her teeth scraping his skin and driving him insane, he banged into her mouth again. “I’m gonna come while I’m fuckin’ your mouth. You swallowin’ every last fuckin’ drop, yeah?”

  He pulled his cock out and met her gaze again, his dick throbbing at her swollen mouth and flushed skin. Desire darkened her gorgeous blue eyes. He wanted inside her pussy, but he wanted to fuck her mouth, too, the darkness inside him flirting with his thoughts. Taunting him. His life without her in it would be worthless.

  The usual fucking bullshit. At the moment, though, he resented the fuck out of her and he hated that he did. Megan didn’t deserve his resentment. In effect, though, he wouldn’t stop Zoann’s rape. It would mean his death and never meeting Megan.

  He growled at the pain of that thought and slammed into Megan’s mouth again. She gasped, not expecting the abrupt invasion. Not stopping, he pushed his cock down her throat again, twisting her hair around his fists. She jerked against his legs, her tits bouncing. He studied her through bleary eyes.

  Jesus. “Play with your pussy, Megan,” he breathed, encouraging her fingers to move faster over her clit. “You like havin’ your mouth fucked? Cuz you ain’t just suckin’ my dick.”

  He slid against her tongue again. “My dick feel so good with your fuckin’ lips wrapped around it.”

  She strained against his lower body, her nipples pressing against his thighs, her trembles pulsing through her body and into his.

  “You ma
kin’ your pussy come?”

  His balls drew up tight against his body, his dick tingling. “Keep fuckin’ still, Megan,” he grunted, moving in and out of her mouth in a harsh rhythm. He tipped her head back and bent over her, his balls resting on her chin, his pulse pounding through his body. One last time he crashed into her mouth. “Fuuuuccckkkk,” he yelled, cum shooting from his dick tip and down her throat and still he pumped her mouth, his body shaking with each pulse of cum bubbling from him. Once he’d emptied his balls, he plopped out of her mouth and pulled back, breathing as hard as she was.

  Her trembling fingers touched her lips, but she still trusted him. He saw it in her eyes and the fact stiffened his dick all over again. As he bent and lifted her by the waist, the unbuttoned shirt flew open and revealed her nudity when he dropped her on the double-sized bed. Her round breasts with the tight, red nipples. Her small waist, smaller now because she’d been sick and grieving. Even the belly pooch he secretly took pride in was gone.

  He removed her shirt, reminding himself to feed her fucking platters of food five fucking times a day. He didn’t want to think right now. He wanted pussy from her. Pushing on her shoulder, he pressed his hand against her belly when she fell back and opened her legs.

  Burying his face against her pussy, he breathed in her scent, running his nose along her hot slit. Using the tip of his tongue, he licked her from the top of her cunt down to her opening, spearing into her. Her back arched and she screamed.

  Spreading her pussy lips, he brushed over her clit, shoving two fingers inside her hole and flexing.

  “Christopher,” she said in a broken cry, canting her hips and rocking against his lapping tongue.

  She was wet and delicious and he couldn’t stop loving her. Not even for Bitsy.

  Fuck him. Not even for his mother.

  At the thought he growled and tugged on her clit with his teeth.

  “God, Christopher,” she gasped, yanking his hair. She didn’t like him to use his teeth. Her clit was too sensitive for it.

  He nipped her again and she jerked. Guilt rose in him and he blew on her pussy, soothing her with a slow drag.

  She rolled her hips and moaned loud. “Your tongue feels so good.” She arched her cunt up again. “Please,” she whispered.

  He rubbed his scruffy cheek against her tender pussy, spread open for him to devour. He repeated the motion with his other cheek and his chin before nosing her clit and swirling his tongue over her outer lips. He just needed a few licks more to tip her over the edge, but he’d be a mean assfuck and deny her, even though it wasn’t her fault he loved her more than any fucking thing in the entire fucking world.

  Little bitch.

  He scowled and rose above her, shoving her legs apart and sinking into her on a hard thrust. He put his arms around her and turned onto his back. “Ride my dick, Megan.”

  She wiggled against him, the flush that had been in her cheeks now flooding her entire body, entrancing Christopher. He lifted her up before slamming her down onto his dick at the same moment he thrusted up into her.

  He pushed into her hard and deep, controlling her movements and her body with his hands at her waist.

  She was so fucking little. He could do with what he wanted to her. He must’ve been a foot fucking taller than her and tens of pounds of muscle heavier.

  He slammed into her again, her delicate, little cunt sucking at his dick, pulling him into her hot body. He wanted her to fight him off, show him that she had the strength to protect herself and never leave him.

  He dug his fingers into her ass cheeks and stroked up against, her bounce hurting his nuts. He’d taken her rough before, but not in anger. The fucked up part was she really hadn’t done anything to make him angry. He’d just lost his fucking mind.

  He worked into her again and she gasped

  “My dick big enough for you, baby?”

  “Y-yes,” she squeaked around a harsh breath, flinching at another hard thrust. Her eyes were wide and teary. An image of Megan beaten and bloody on the floor of Spoon’s house flashed into Christopher’s head and he banged against her hard and deep, swiveling his hips. She sniffled. “It’s b-big. V-very big.”

  Not wanting that blue gaze on him any longer, he flipped her onto her back and closed his eyes, burying his head on the pillow, hammering into Megan’s body, trying to dispel all the images. Of her bleeding to death. Of her with Cee Cee’s gun to her head. Snake’s shotgun. Of all her many, many tears over their lost baby.

  Of his little sister.

  He pounded into Megan again and her legs trembled. Her fingers skated the bridge of his spine, her touch his salvation, his nirvana. His all.

  He stilled his movements, puffing out air, sweat dripping from him and onto Megan. She lay beneath him, soft, open, and vulnerable. Her small feet rested on each of his hips. He glanced at her, feeling like a fuckhead when he saw her tears, her lower lip trembling and her chin wobbling.

  He rocked against her once, then yanked his dick out of her, holding himself rigid over her and bracing on his hands.

  “This is why I fuckin’ need time to my-fuckin-self.”

  “I was worried about you,” she admitted. “I called you and you didn’t answer. We promised we’d talk things out.”

  “You know every-fuckin-thing already, Megan. What the fuck I gotta tell you?”

  “Obviously nothing,” she snapped, thumping his shoulders. “Move so I can get dressed. I’ll call Johnnie or Mortician—”

  With another growl, he sank into her again. “The fuck you will.”

  “You’re an impossible jerk,” she yelled, cradling him between her thighs, allowing him to surround himself with her warm wetness.

  He closed his eyes and nosed her hair, trembling, giving into the inevitable.

  “I wasn’t able to help her, Megan,” he whispered. “She was hurt and she needed me and I wasn’t there.”

  “I know, Christopher,” she said in a tormented voice, thumbing his lips. “Zoann knows. She does and she understands. She can start to heal now.”

  He stared at her, needing to see her now just as much as he’d wanted to avoid her gaze before. “My own old man…Cee Cee—”

  She caressed his cheek. “Shhhh.” She lifted up and brushed his lips with her own. “He’s evil and he’s dead. You killed him. He got what he deserved. You didn’t know about what he’d done to Zoann then, but you knew about Patricia. You made him pay.” A haunted look shadowed her face and she looked so very sad. “Daddy, too,” she whispered, hoarse. “Him or you, I choose you. Always, all the time, I choose you, over nearly everybody but one, small person.”

  Except his boy and he loved her all the more for it.

  He moved, slow and gentle inside her snug wetness, bending and claiming her lips, devouring her mouth, tasting every inch of her and absorbing her little cries. He thought about…about what she’d been through and the way he’d pounded into her. Cursing, he pulled out of her and settled next to her, drawing her into his arms. He held her quietly, the storm inside of him quieting once more.

  She wrapped her hand around his hard dick, stroking him and biting his neck. “Why’d you stop?”

  “I was too fuckin’ rough with you. Your insides don’t need my big dick poundin’ into you. They gotta heal all the way.”

  “I’m fine, Christopher.” She rubbed her furry pussy on his thigh. “Or I will be if…if you give me an orgasm.”

  “You want me to make your pussy come?”

  She nodded, her hair damp with sweat, a wild mass around her. He smirked at her, unable to stop his satisfaction, and began kissing his way down her body, licking the inside of her thigh, the back of her knee.

  “I want you inside of me,” she demanded, squirming.

  Not arguing, he guided his cock to her pussy and teased her swollen clit with his dick head, growling and bending to suck a hard nipple into his mouth. He buried himself inside of her, licking her nipple and fingering her clit, stroking in and out of
her, a deep thrust into her and a slow pull out of her, priming her to explode and increasing his tempo as she neared.

  She threw her head back and he took advantage at the exposure of her throat, licking her skin. “My dick about to explode inside your pussy, Megan,” he breathed against her neck. “Come all over my cock. I want you to scream my name when your do.” He rimmed the shell of her ear. “Your pussy feel so good. So fuckin’ wet and hot for me.”

  He caressed her clit and she groaned, falling apart around him, crying out his name over and over again. One final time he sank into her, coming hard and deep in her belly, his entire body trembling and shaking with his release.

  A moment later, he pulled her warm, sated body into his arms, kissing the top of her head. “You remembered to bring your pills, baby?”

  If he could convince her to take those pills forever, he would. They had CJ. Even though Dr. Will said she’d be fine and would be monitored closely with another pregnancy, Christopher didn’t want to think about all the risks involved. Risks he hadn’t considered before now sat uppermost in his mind.

  “They’re in our room in the bathroom…”

  Her voice trailed off and Christopher glanced down at her. He studied her a moment, his mind wandering back to this morning.

  “You didn’t take it today, did you?”

  Say fuckin’ yes.

  “No,” she whispered. “I forgot.”

  Christopher didn’t say anything to her. There was fuck all to say. She couldn’t be pregnant now. Dr. Will had even extended her original timeframe. He had no idea what the fuck he’d do if he’d gotten another baby inside of Megan now and hoped he got a break from the fucking dreary Fates just this fucking time.

  He swore he’d forever ignore his hard dick as long as Megan was safe.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Outlaw led Meggie into the main room, the next morning, and Val straightened in his seat at the table.

  “Go take it now, Megan,” Outlaw ordered, his red-rimmed eyes indicating he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Even though Meggie looked thoroughly fucked with swollen lips and the sated look women wore after a good orgasm, Outlaw’s expression seemed almost…panicked.