Authors: Kathryn Kelly,Crystal Cuffley
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction, #New Adult & College
Before she got any further, Johnnie walked behind her. Because this was such a big deal, he’d driven down to attend this party. Usually, Christopher was happy to see Johnnie, his cousin wrapped an arm around her tiny waist and buried his nose in her hair, bending to whisper something in her ear. Even in her thigh-high, silver stiletto boots, she only reached Johnnie to his chin. He pressed against her and Christopher growled, balling his hands into fists.
Some asshole he intended to mutilate
worse than Johnnie strode to Megan, but she smiled that gorgeous smile—her red lipstick causing Christopher’s heart to stutter—and pointed at him.
As she started in his direction, two of K-P’s girls attempted to block her way, but she gave them a look that could freeze Lucifer’s dick and sauntered past them. Johnnie followed behind, a
smirk on his face, his eyes drifting down.
She reached the table and the smell of her hair and a light floral perfume reached him. He felt fucking lightheaded, broadsided with this new version of Megan.
He roamed from around the table and stepped toward her, not speaking, just circling her, taking it all in. The halter top shelving her breasts. The tiny skirt with the silver belt stopping just below her ass cheeks. The blue of the material that matched her eyes and made them gleam like jewels.
She tossed her hair over her shoulders. “May I have a drink or is this only for your Bobs?”
Christopher’s gaze flew to hers. ”Where’s Kiera and Ellen?” It was their fault she was dressed like a slut.
“They left,” she said coolly.
“I’ll bet they fuckin’ did.” He glared over her head to Johnnie. “Gimme your fuckin’ jacket, asshole.”
Johnnie lifted a brow.
“
Now
!”
She turned her head, offering a view of her perfect profile. “No. I’m fine just like this, Johnnie. Keep your jacket.
” She returned her challenging blue regard back to Christopher. “I would like a drink, though.”
They stared at one another and he saw she wouldn’t back down. “I’m gonna spank your ass for this shit,” he blurted without thinking.
She paled a little at his furious snarl, and stepped back. In his anger, he’d forgotten about her history. Fuck, in this hot-as-fuck outfit, he couldn’t even see the scars from the cuts she inflicted on herself. All he saw was
her
. On another chick, he would’ve appreciated the fuck out of the skimpy clothes. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes. He appreciate it on Megan, but not when every other motherfucker ogled her.
The bitch with the mousy brown hair sidled back with his bottle of tequila, rubbing her breasts against him.
She could’ve rubbed her bare pussy on him and he wouldn’t have given a fuck. But Megan saw what the Bob did and stepped back, her shoulders rigid with anger, her eyes filling with misery.
Grabbing the bottle, Christopher
wrapped an arm around Megan’s waist and lifted her off her feet, not thinking, only acting.
When he reached his bedroom, which he noted was clean, he slammed the door shut, then set her on her feet.
He unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock out, forcing her to her knees. “You wanna look like a whore, then I’m gonna treat you like one.” He gripped her hair and twisted, thrusting his cock against her lips until she opened her mouth and allowed him to shove his dick in.
He should’ve expected the little bitch to bite him, but
stupid fucker he was, he didn’t. No bitch in their right mind had ever practiced violence on his person.
He yelped in pain and jerked away. Megan scrambled back and stumbled to her feet.
“Go back out there then,” she yelled. “I don’t care. I talked to them while we were shopping. They told me you’re nice to the Bobs and they turn you on and they’re dressed in less than I am.”
“I ain’t treatin’ you no different than I treat those sluts.”
“Liar. They told me how you buy your
Club Ass
drinks. How K-P
interviews
those girls and then sends the Bobs to you for a final
consultation
. They’re handpicked based on how well they suck you off! I had a long conversation with them about all of it.”
Fuming, Christopher grabbed her arm and yanked her to the bed, throwing her on it, then climbing over her. He was so fucking frustrated with
them
, knowing who
them
was.
“You’re fuckin’ better than them.
Ellen, Kiera, and the Bobs. Better than all us put together. You’re fuckin’ better than this. Lettin’ motherfuckers look at you almost naked. Eye fuck you. Imagine their dicks in you seven ways to fuckin’ Sunday.”
Only he was supposed to do that. Not his brothers. Not his cousin. Not the members of the support club. No one else but him.
“I didn’t dress for them,” she admitted, looking up at him. “I dressed for you.”
He was about to have a fucking heart attack. That’s the only reason it was beating like a jackhammer in his chest at her words and her earnest look. A weak fucking hea
rt was the only reason her sweet response went straight through him and pierced all his defenses.
She pulled his head down and planted her mouth on his, opening for him, letting him take over once she touched her tongue to his. His hand slid under her skirt because he wa
s dying to know what she wore underneath.
Thank fuck, she had a thong on. Her ass was bare but her pussy was covered. Her kisses were wild, her body grinding like a whore
’s, her nipples hard, the sounds coming from her driving him wild.
Lifting her hips in invitation, s
he sucked his tongue and he groaned. Her heated skin singed his fingertips, his lips, his hands and mouth.
“Megan, I gotta fuck you, baby, then we gotta go back out there.” He tore her thong and pushed open her legs, thrusting into her hard. She arched
against him, exposing her slender throat.
Christopher bit her. “You wanted dick, huh?”
“Yeah,” she breathed. “Yours.”
He closed his eyes and hammered her again and again until she came for him. This was a quick fuck, to appease his territorial rights over her and her insecurities. He grunted and trembled, filling her with his cum. Afterwards, they lay wrapped around each other, breathing hard.
Christopher rested his chin on the c
rown of her head. “Put somethin’ else on for me, baby. Please. I have to keep my head on straight and I ain’t gonna be able to do that if I have to watch over you.” And fuck up any motherfucker who looked at her. He’d never thought of himself as the jealous type but with Megan, he’d kill anyone who touched her.
She kissed the spot where his neck and shoulder met
. “What do you want me to wear?”
He pulled out of her and leaned back on his hunches. “A burka. A sari. A habit. You choose.”
She lifted herself on her elbows. His dick hardened all over again at the sight she presented in that outfit, legs spread and revealing her reddened, engorged pussy, his cum leaking from her. Her curled hair was wild now, her lips were swollen, and her cheeks were flushed. He bent and suckled her clit and she shuddered. Her head lulled to the side. “I’ve never worn something so revealing.”
“Coulda fooled me,
” he grumbled, dragging his mouth away from her and sitting up.
“It makes me feel naughty.”
It made him feel murderous. “Feel naughty for me, Megan,” he said, guiding her to a sitting position. Unable to stop himself, he buried his hand in her hair and pulled her against him to kiss her.
She drew to her knees and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Christopher,” she whispered.
With effort, he separated himself from her. “I gotta get back out there. See that everythin’ is goin’ the way I ordered.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist and nodded, her sadness returning.
“When I arrived, there was a girl outside with two guys,” she began quietly. “One had his penis in her mouth and the other one was having sex with her the normal way. They were on the ground out in the open.” She cocked her head to the side. “Do things like that happen at all the gatherings?”
“Most of them,” he admitted. “Unless there’s old ladies around.
” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, babe, none of us ain’t had an old lady in a while. The brothers that do stopped hangin’ around two years ago or so, unless there was church.”
She lowered her lashes. “Did all those girls really perform oral sex on you?” she whispered.
“What do you think?” he asked with a sigh.
She drew in a shuddering breath. “Were you gonna let one of them do it tonight?”
He caressed her cheek, thinking about their conversation last night when he told her about leaving her with his mother to return to Kiera and Ellen. “I thought about it.”
Her lower lip trembled but she nodded. “Okay.” She crawled past him and got to her feet. She looked so fucking hot standing there in that outfit
. “Um, I’m tired, Christopher. I think I’m going to turn in. Why don’t you go and enjoy yourself?”
Why did she do
this to him? Any other bitch he’d let walk the fuck away. Instead, he scrambled after Megan and caught her shoulders. “I didn’t say I was gonna do it. Fuck, Megan! Where do you see us goin’? Huh?”
“Nowhere,” she retorted. “Because you don’t want us to go anywhere.”
He did. More than he could ever explain. “Megan, I already told you we ain’t ever gettin’ married.”
“Yeah, you just want me to have your baby.”
That’s not all he wanted from her. “My name, baby, ain’t worth shit.
I
don’t want the fuckin’ name Caldwell. I’m ashamed of it. Why would I want a beautiful angel like you to have it?”
She blinked
and her eyes glittered with fierceness. “Because it’s part of you and there’s nothing about you I consider shameful.”
Those words hung between them and she challenged him with a look. But what the fuck could he say? When motherfuckers put him down or pissed him off, he knew how to respond. Her words, though? They were from her heart, expressing a belief in him no one ever had.
He took her in his arms and hugged her. “Come back out there with me, Megan. We ain’t gonna be out there no more than another hour. I gotta make sure everybody is seen to.”
“You’re sure?”
“Ain’t never been more sure of anythin’ in my life.”
She stepped back and smiled, scooting arou
nd him and heading for the bureau where he’d given her a drawer for the clothes she’d purchased at the mall. Instead of getting another outfit, she pulled out another thong and put it on.
“Megan—“
“I wanted to talk to you about Ellen,” she interrupted, heading for the door and opening it to step into the hallway.
Tuning her out, h
e gritted his teeth and followed behind her. His scent clung to her, so every motherfucker there knew she belonged to him. Besides, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight or his reach.
Later, though, when Megan fell asleep, he was going to take
the clothes she wore and burn those motherfuckers.
After riding on the back of Christopher’s bike for two and a half hours,
he turned onto a private access road. Meggie figured she’d walk funny. Maybe, bow-legged. He sped past a couple houses, situated several hundred yards apart to the end of the road. She kept her cheek pressed against Christopher’s back, her arms around his waist, breathing in his scent, the leather he wore, the tang of the ocean.
Memories of their shopping spree yesterday filled her with happiness and she tightened her grip on him. True to his word, they’d left at five o’clock in the morning and headed across the Columbia to
Pioneer Place in Portland, so they could go to a more upscale mall. He didn’t know until they arrived why she wanted to go shopping—to buy gifts for everyone. She’d received her last Christmas present, three years ago, from her daddy, a hand blown glass Minnie Mouse. Thomas had taken one look at it, set it on the floor, and smashed it beneath his cowboy boots.
Dragging Christopher to the mall for other people and not herself hadn’t sat well with him. He’d indulged her and allowed her
the pleasure of buying gifts for whoever she wanted. She’d taken her time and chosen gifts for each person, based on what she knew about them. She’d mentally purchased her friends, Farah and Lacey, a couple things from Juicy Couture while she’d imagined giving her mom a Coach purse. She’d agonized over Christopher’s gift and thought she wouldn’t be able to purchase anything for him when he’d insisted he didn’t get gifts, so she didn’t have to worry about him, especially since he had to pay for it with his own fucking money.
“Well, put the money in my hands and give it to me. Then it’ll be my money,” she reasoned. “And once you give me money, it’s mine to do with what I want.”
He hadn’t relented, until she’d given him the silent treatment and he’d stuffed money into her hands. Convincing him to leave her side for the time it would take to pick out and pay for his present hadn’t been as easy.
“Ain’t fuckin’ happenin’, Megan,” he’d said through gritted teeth. “Not with that motherfucker on the loose.”
“Christopher, Snake’s not—“
“
No
. You can be dumb. I clue you in, you ain’t dumb no more. But I can’t take stupid. Ain’t a fuckin’ lot of hope for stupid. And you bein’ fuckin’ stupid thinkin’ that motherfucker won’t take any opportunity to strike. Who the fuck said I was talkin’ ‘bout Snake any-fuckin-way? You think I forgot about your step fuckhead?”
Bull’s eye. Meggie huffed in frustration. “Can’t you just stand outside the store? You can monitor whoever’s going in and out. If you see
one of them, grab me and we can alert security.”
He’d
opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut and leaned his face into hers. “Like I said. Fuckin’ stupid. I have no clue how assfuck looks, Megan.”
They’d been standing in the middle of the mall, arguing like school kids. Pulling him to a bench, Meggie had described Thomas to him.
He seemed uninterested and bored, almost as if he’d seen Thomas before.
Still, when she finished, he said,
“Fine. Find the store you wanna buy my gift and I’ll guard the entrance. You have thirty minutes.”
When she pointed out she didn’t have a watch, he’d taken his off, be
ing nice enough to set the timer once they’d reached the shop in question. By the time she finished, with three minutes to spare, they’d both been starving, so they’d gone to the lower level and gotten something to eat. Meggie was grateful for the rest, still exhausted from the club’s Thanksgiving celebration where they’d feasted on all sorts of goodies and drank like there was no tomorrow. Well, Meggie hadn’t but Christopher had and, if anyone had asked her, she’d have sworn he wouldn’t have been able to move to take her shopping. He’d really fooled her.
After they’d eaten breakfast, she’d thought they would head back to his pickup. Instead, he’d taken
her
shopping. Like really,
really
shopping. As in Tiffany and Juicy Couture and Victoria’s Secret and…yeah,
shopping.
When they’d returned to the clubhouse last night, they’d chatted with Val, Digger, and Mortician while drinking a beer, then went to their room for their sex fest.
And, now, this morning…
Hedges interspersed with beach bindweed and lupine sat in the middle of the double entrance circular driveway. The large two-story house with a wrap-around porch and huge, wood case windows shocked Meggie. Christopher’s body tensed as he glided to a stop and let the Harley idle. Spruce trees prevented Meggie from glimpsing the entire side of the house but she heard the ebb and flow of the ocean and suspected the view was magnificent.
Christopher roused himself out of whatever world
he’d gone off into and, before long, Meggie was rising from her seat, wincing at her sore butt. His scent clung to her body. Before leaving that morning, she’d taken a nice, long shower. Little good that had done. When they finished breakfast, Christopher made love to her again. She was a disgrace because, as many times as he’d been inside her in the last eighteen hours, she wanted to feel him inside her again.
“Megan!”
Meggie jerked at Patricia’s call. She hurried down the wide steps in a blur of motion, squeezing Christopher’s arm and heading for Meggie.
“Are you all right? You seem awfully pale.”
The two women stared at one another and Meggie’s heart beat fast. They’d met in passing when Christopher was in the hospital, but hadn’t had a chance for any real conversation. Now, she wanted to make a good impression on this woman whose son Meggie had become so attached to.
Patricia grabbed Meggie in a hug, and Meggie sagged against her. She didn’t want to be a baby but she missed her mother’s affection. In all honesty, she’d missed Dinah’s motherly touches for some years now. Hesitant, Meggie returned Patricia’s hug, warmed by the cinnamon scent of her.
Patricia was a small-framed woman and it almost seemed impossible she’d given birth to a strapping man like Christopher. Her unlined face worked well with her black hair that showed no sign of graying. Unless she colored it.
“I’m fine.”
Stepping back, Meggie looked at her toes, flushing beneath the weight of the woman’s continued study.
She lifted Meggie’s chin and frowned. “Are you sure?”
“She’s fine, Ma,” Christopher answered with an innocent grin. He sauntered to Meggie and held her waist. “You want some more dick?” he whispered with a silky laugh.
Yes.
“No,” she snapped, jerking away from him, mortified he’d ask her such a thing within earshot of his mother.
“Shameless boy,” Patricia chirped, shaking her head.
“Pervert.” Meggie threw the word out of the side of her mouth. She hoped her grin masked the movement of her lips, even as she prayed for the ground to swallow her.
“It’s all good, Megan,” Christopher promised. He kissed the tip of her nose before stepping around her and lifting
his mother off her feet, displaying more emotion than Meggie had ever seen. He kissed her, a loud smack on her cheek, before setting her on solid ground again. “How’s my favorite girl?”
It was then, in that momen
t, Meggie lost her heart to Christopher. Her feelings for him went beyond mere friendship, attachment, and lust. Some people were meant to rise up and shine, glittering as brilliantly as the stars in the night sky. They reached pinnacles of fame and fortune, leaving behind bright memories long after they were gone. In Christopher’s case, it was more like infamy. Few knew him beyond the fringe world he lived in. And, yet, those who knew him,
really
knew him, loved him. As Meggie loved him. As Patricia, Johnnie, Val, Digger, and Mortician. They all loved him in different ways, but he was still their shining star; they wanted him happy and safe and at peace. Whatever he wanted, they wanted for him.
Overwhelmed with he
r new discovery, Meggie backed away, allowing Christopher and his mother private space. Patricia’s hand lay against her son’s cheek and he was bending a little so she could reach him. Tears glinted in her eyes, but couldn’t hide the reverence and awe.
Patricia stepped back and Christopher raised his head. Seeing Meggie wasn’t near, he turned and beckoned her closer. The moment
Meggie drew near, he enveloped them in a bear hug.
“I’m so sorry I hurt you, Ma. But I’ve been dealin’ with some serious shit. It’s been fuckin’—“
“Enough foul language, son,” Patricia chastised. “I can only take so much.”
Christopher’s face flushed and Meggie’s mouth fell open. Was he…No, he couldn’t be…
blushing
? He was. Unable to stop it, peals of laughter broke from her. He tried to shut her up with the stink eye. That didn’t stop her, so he just let her and his mother go and scowled.
“Ma,” he growled after a moment, “this is Megan Foy.”
All humor gone, Megan blushed herself at the tenderness in his voice and in his look.
“Megan, this is my beautiful mother, Patricia Donovan.”
He acted as if they hadn’t met, but his formal introduction showed how much respect he gave to his mother.
“I’ve met her when you were in the hospital, Christopher.”
Megan nodded. “Is there anything I can help you—“ Her voice trailed off and she frowned when a Navigator pulled to a stop behind Christopher’s motorcycle. Johnnie emerged and headed straight for her.
“Megs!” he greeted cheerfully, ignoring Christopher’s narrowed gaze to kiss her cheek.
Her blush deepened. “Hi, Johnnie,” she mumbled.
Johnnie’s grin widened.
“Ma,” Christopher snarled, “take Megan inside. Show her to our room.”
Patricia
nodded and indicated they go inside. Without a word, Meggie followed.
All the way upstairs and into the bedroom, Patricia spoke about the plans she had for the holidays, culminating in a big family dinner on Christmas Day with all of Christopher’s sister
s and nieces.
Meggie gaped around the huge room. It had dark hardwood floors, a high ceiling with exposed beams, a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows with a glass door leading to a private balcony with an absolutely magnificent view. The windy day sent white capped waves foaming onto the sand.
Patricia cleared her throat.
“I’m
sorry for letting my mind wander,” Meggie blurted. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t ever seen such raw beauty and elegant luxury before. Farrah was wealthy, after all. But she couldn’t reconcile the man she knew Christopher to be with
this house
. Besides, Patricia’s attitude made her distinctly uncomfortable. “Your house is beautiful.”
She smiled and nodded. “Thank you.”
Another awkward silence fell between them and Meggie shifted her weight. She thought of ideas to jumpstart the conversation, but she didn’t want to say the wrong thing and make the disapproval she detected turn into dislike.
She thrust her chin toward the windows. “The view is magnificent.” Safe topic. When in doubt, discuss the scenery. The woman who’d greeted her outside was so different from the woman now facing her.
“You’re very young, Megan.”
Not this again. She’d gone through the same thing with Ellen and Kiera. Maybe, she should just paint the number 18 on her forehead, so everyone would stop speculating.
Patricia lifted an eyebrow and Meggie gritted her teeth, knowing she had no choice but to answer the silent question.
“I’m eighteen,” she said firmly. She wished Patricia would leave. Meggie needed a bath and a nap. She was sure she’d see things from a different perspective then.
Instead of leaving, the woman began pacing. “You’re Big Joe’s girl?”
Another question she was sick to death of. Still, she nodded.
Patricia paused in front of Meggie and took her hands in her own. “Christopher has never introduced me to a girl he’s dating.”
Meggie smiled, still hesitant with this woman, but warmed by her words.
“I don’t want you hurt,” she went on. “I adore my son. I have from the moment I held him in my arms. But, my Christopher, he…does things. Mean, vile things.”
Meggie pulled her hands free and shook her head in denial. “Please,” she whispered. “I-I don’t want to hear it.” She’d already been exposed to Christopher’s dark world and still had nightmares from the retaliation he received because of it. Dead, bloodied men would haunt her dreams for the rest of her life.
“You have to listen to me,” Patricia snapped, turning away and crossing the room. “Are you prepared to stand by my son no matter what? Suppose you find out something even more horrible than what you already know?”
An unspoken message lay in those sharp words, but Meggie coul
dn’t fathom what it was. Patricia stared at her, almost through her. The worry and sorrow in her eyes frightened Meggie. “Wh-what are you trying to say?”
Patricia swallowed. “Answer me.”
Meggie knew she’d get answers from Christopher if she told him about this odd conversation, but, then he’d either get angry with her for being annoyed with his mother. Or he’d get angry with his mother and then Meggie would be responsible for a rift between them. She’d answer the woman, and, then, keep her eyes and ears open to solve this riddle Patricia challenged her with.