Misappropriate (4 page)

“Fuck, Megan. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“Come in me,” she whispered, her intense regard holding him captive.

He slammed into her, his body shaking when his cum began to pour from him. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus, but his head was filled with the scent and taste of his wife. The more he thought of her, the more he shook. The more he shook, the more he felt little droplets of cum seep from him and into her. She licked the sweat from his shoulder and he wanted to fuck her again. Instead, he opened his eyes and found her staring at him.

“I love you,” she murmured.

“I love you, too, Megan,” he said hoarsely, brushing strands of her damp hair behind her ear and rubbing his nose against hers.

She licked his nipple. “My turn, Christopher.”

She pushed at his shoulder, his cue to lie on his back. Clutching her ass, he reversed their positions. Disappointment surged through him when she lifted herself off his dick and fell to his side, then raised herself up on an elbow. He supposed she wanted to talk.

“Did the priest really say we can play the Wedding March?” She laid between his legs and kissed around his navel, wrapping her hand around his cock and funneling him in her hand.

How the fuck did she expect him to concentrate with his dick in her hand and her mouth so close to it?

“Christopher?” Her hand slid up and down his dick again, still slick with her pussy juice. “The Wedding March?” Another tug and pull. A pass of her thumb over his cock head. “The priest flat out refused me to allow a secular song in the church.”

God. Fuck. Jesus. He couldn’t even think of fucking words to explain why the fuck that fat motherfucker gave in. Even if he’d been inclined to, which he fucking wasn’t. He didn’t need Megan pointing out how threatening to gut a Man of God was probably a sin. She still didn’t get that he’d lost his soul ages a-fucking-go because she saw past all the bullshit and found his heart. Fuck, yeah, he had a heart for
her
and their baby. Any other motherfucker? All bets were off. Well, with the exception of Johnnie, Val, Mortician, and Digger.

She squeezed his dick and he groaned, clutching the sheets to keep from yanking her by the hair and shoving his dick down her throat.

“I can have the Wedding March?”

Each diocese had different rules and this one didn’t vary much from others in that the Wedding March was considered secular music and wasn’t usually played within the confines of the sanctuary. But Megan wanted it, so Megan got it. No one had to know of the threats and dire warnings, especially
her
. That wasn’t important. Only the end result was.

He choked. “Yes.”

“Thank you.” Her breath fanned his skin and goose bumps ran along his body. “I love being your wife. I just want our marriage blessed. And, now, I’m going to have a perfect wedding. All because of you.”

“Anything for—“

The word ‘you’ flew right the fuck out of his brain when Megan dropped her saliva onto his dick and slurped him into her mouth. His eyes crossed at her hard sucks. She cupped his balls and he gripped her hair hard enough to fucking scalp her. Jerking his dick up and down, Christopher realized he’d corrupted the fuck out of her and turned her from an innocent virgin into a little firecracker in bed. Not that he’d change that, but still…

His dick went back into the haven of her mouth, her head bobbing up and down, her face flushed. Her hand wrapped around his cock base and, as her head went up, so did her hand, giving him a blowjob and a hand job at one time.

“Megan, baby,” he moaned, near the edge, hoping like a motherfucker he didn’t blow the back of her head off when he shot his load.
Fuck!
He pulled out of her mouth, grabbed her and flipped her over. He buried himself so deep inside of her, he was probably touching her tonsils. He growled and pounded her like a fucking animal until his seed exploded inside of her and he saw fucking stars.

Chapter 2

“Where are you going, Momma?” Megan called as Dinah squeezed past her in the cramped airplane cabin.

Her mother paused and glanced back, discomfort in her features. She pursed her mouth. “I’m switching seats, Meggie.”

Meggie shifted CJ in her lap, looking at his little sleeping face. She was already suspicious that her mother had given her son something to make him sleep so soundly. Dinah had taken him to the bathroom while they waited to board and, by the time the twenty minutes had passed, her son was asleep. Now, they had barely pushed back and her mother was switching seats with someone else?

“No,” Meggie ordered. “I could’ve taken the window seat, but I gave it to you because I know you’d prefer that. I want you next to me.” She wanted to find out what Dinah had given her baby. It was one thing to totally leave
her
to hang dry as she had after she’d married that monster. It was quite another thing to do it to her son.

“Sorry, Meggie,” Dinah said quietly.

“Ma’am, excuse me. You need to take your seat,“ the stewardess said in a stern but kind voice. She had a casual look with a Polo shirt banded at the collar and sleeves in blue and a pencil skirt.

It was the type of outfit Dinah would’ve once worn and looked great in as an assistant high school principal. Meggie suspected with a little maintenance to her hair and care to her face, her mother would still look fabulous. Maybe, she’d buy a few outfits for Dinah while they were on vacation and use the excuse of splurging during their girls’ trip.

“Ma’am?” the stewardess prompted when Dinah stood, unmoving, a doe caught in the headlights with nowhere to run.

“Sorry, we got it mixed up,” a man said. His voice was familiar but before Meggie could look at him, he slipped past her and sat in her mother’s vacated seat.

“No, wait!” Meggie called. But the stewardess was already leading Dinah away.

              “Nice boy,” the man next to her said.

              She glowered at him, startled to see a cut peeking out from his leather jacket. His face was weather-beaten, his head covered with a bandanna. But he sounded familiar and something about him
looked
familiar. She didn’t know what and felt like pitching her shoe at her mother’s head for leaving her in a lurch with this man.

              He gave her chills with the way his green eyes studied her and stared at CJ. Thank God, the flight wouldn’t last long. Still, it was going to be an uncomfortable seventy-five minutes. CJ’s little mouth moved and she smiled at him, her heart just not big enough to hold all the love she felt for her son. Or her son’s father.

              She was already sorry she’d agreed to what the guys asked her, but she also knew it wasn’t normal the way she and Christopher were attached to one another. Still, it was going to be difficult until she saw him again. She hadn’t slept anywhere but next to him for over a year.

              “I’m Cee Cee, by the way.”

              She cleared her throat. “Nice to meet you.”
Not.
She wished he’d shut up if he couldn’t go away.

              “You from around these parts?”

              Meggie’s nerves were frayed. Between already missing Christopher, being upset with how easily Dinah had given her seat to a stranger, and Meggie’s suspicion that Dinah had drugged her son, she didn’t feel very mannerly. “Cee Cee? That’s your name, right?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. “I’m not in the mood to talk, so if you have to sit next to me, please don’t talk to me.”

              Soft laughter rumbled from him and he shifted in the narrow space, his leg touching hers, his arm brushing her breast. She stiffened and remembered Thomas, her stepfather. Christopher had taken care of him, but Meggie still carried the memories.
And
her husband wasn’t there now to protect her while she had a son to protect and a mother who hadn’t healed—might never heal—from the abuse she’d suffered at Thomas’s hands. In this, she had to take care of herself and her son.

              He flexed his fists and she noticed the tattoos on his fingers. He had big hands and, from his demeanor, Meggie suspected he’d used those hands in violence. He was tall and broad with a weathered face, sharp features, and an earring in his left ear. She realized he also had a black eye and a lip scabbed over.

              “You Outlaw’s old lady, aren’t you?”

              “And?” she asked with as much venom as possible.

              “Meggie, right?”

              The moment he said her name, she remembered where she’d heard his voice. He’d been the one calling out to her last night.

              “I’m not from around here, Meggie,” he continued. “Not anymore.”

              No use in beating around the bush. “What do you want, Cee Cee? Tell me and I’ll relay the message to my husband.”

              He smiled at her. A mean, nasty smile that Meggie didn’t like at all. Yet, the curve of his mouth lured her. It was so eerily familiar, almost a mirror of Christopher’s.

              He shrugged. “He doesn’t really know me. Heard his mother got popped.”

Meggie gasped. Speaking of Patricia’s death so casually told her he didn’t care one way or the other about the poor woman’s death. And thinking of Patricia made her think of Ellen and Kiera, two women who had been shot point-blank by Meggie’s lunatic brother. She shook a little, hating to think of that day. So many times she’d wondered if she’d done something different could she have saved them. Either of them. All of them.

Christopher always said ‘no’. Nothing could be done.

She squirmed in her seat. The man smelled fresh and clean with the scent of leather and alcohol clinging to him. She glanced across the aisle to her mother. Dinah was two rows back on the opposite side in an
aisle
seat. She looked unhappy and tired. Then, again, when had her mother been happy? Not any time in Meggie’s recent memory.

“You’re not too talkative, are you?”

Not when I’m dealing with morons. No.
Instead of blurting that, she held her tongue, pretending to ignore him under the guise of shifting the baby. She watched the rise and fall of his little chest and slanted another evil glance to her mother.

“You need me to hold your boy?” Cee Cee asked, already reaching for CJ.

Meggie didn’t think. She just reacted and swatted his hand away. “Don’t touch my baby,” she snarled. He paused and lifted a black brow but she wouldn’t back down. Not where her child was concerned.

After another sweeping glance at her, he nodded and dropped his hands to his lap, balling them into fists. “I didn’t know you two was already hitched.”

Somehow, she’d missed the entire safety procedures the stewardess’s had gone over. Because it was such a short flight, there would be no food service. Not that Meggie cared. Food was the last thing on her mind, right now.

“I don’t bite.”

Meggie jumped to her feet and stomped to her mother. “Go to that seat and sit next to that pervert yourself,” she hissed.

“Meggie, please,” Dinah whispered. “You’re going to draw attention to us. I-I don’t want any trouble, so just go back to your seat. We’re not going to be on the flight much longer.”

“I’m going to tell the stewardess. I want police waiting for him at the gate. I don’t like him. He gives me the creeps.”

“No, don’t, baby. You’re just paranoid. He might be overly friendly but he means no harm. Please,” she whined. “Don’t cause a scene.”

She gritted her teeth, not sure why she listened to a woman who had zero protective instincts in her. Her guard up, she returned to her seat, wanting to smack the man’s ridicule off his face. Time for a different approach.

Two minutes passed before he spoke again. “How long you been Mrs. Christopher
Caldwell
.”

The way he said her name raised the hairs on Meggie’s nape. “How did you get all this information?”

Whenever he smiled, his thin lips took on a cruel twist. Like now. “Word travels through the Clubs about your rivals, your allies. Everyone. We have to keep tabs on folk, don’t we? Can’t be too careful.”

“No, you can’t,” she said with meaning.

He barked a laughed. “Quite right, Meggie. Quite right. Let me give you an example of how word travels: I know you’re Big Joe’s girl.”

She frowned and swallowed. Another sore spot with her, simply because of Christopher’s involvement in her daddy’s demise.

“You’re no fun,” Cee Cee complained, getting to his feet. “I’m gonna send your mama back to you.”

He slid past her. Within a moment, her mother was scuttling past her and dropping in the seat next to Meggie.

“Meggie—“

“What did you give my baby?”

Dinah swallowed. “A little Tylenol and a little Benadryl.”

Meggie’s heart nearly stopped and her gaze dropped to her son. He was still breathing at a steady rate, his little mouth still moving like he was nursing. He had that baby scent that she adored. But her mother had
drugged
her son. She stood to go to the stewardess to ask if he needed first aid. She’d never given him medicine in his short life and anything could happen to him.

Her mother grabbed her arm and Meggie jerked away, cradling CJ in her arms. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”

Dinah released Meggie’s arm, her eyes filling with desperation. “Please. He’s going to be fine. It was just a quarter dropper of Benadryl and a quarter dropper of Tylenol. Sit back down. Please.”

Cee Cee smirked at her from his seat and Meggie slid next to her mother. “I should report you,” she hissed.

“It wasn’t a lot,” Dinah said defensively, and bit down on her lip. “I did it for him. He would’ve been screaming from the pressure in his little ears. Disturbing everyone. Getting men angry.”

“Don’t talk to me,” Meggie spat, angry. She shouldn’t have said anything else until she calmed down. But Dinah’s refusal to get in touch with reality continued to amaze her. Why? She didn’t know. “I should never have brought you with me. What have you ever done for me but made my life miserable?”

Tears rushed to Dinah’s eyes and added to everything else, guilt surged through Meggie and she groaned.