Misled (15 page)

“Yes,” she whispered.

He
palmed his cock. “Suck my dick,” he ordered, pushing at her shoulders. “Ain’t gonna take long. He’s already cocked and loaded.”

Confusion dented her glazed passion. Instead of explaining, he urged her down. When her mouth wrapped around his dick head, Christopher moaned. “Suck,” he breathed.

She started a soft sucking motion and he twisted his hands in her hair. He pumped his hips, his muscles tightening. Cum exploded from him and into her mouth. He held her head in place, his entire body jerking with the force of his orgasm.

Wetness slid down his cock and pooled on his balls and pubic hair. Breathing hard, he lifted his head to see what the fuck was going on.

“
Swallow
, Megan,” he growled, pulling his dick out of her mouth and frowning at the cum sliding down her chin.

She licked a bead of cum from her lips and Christopher’s cock jumped. Her eyes were wide and bright, her features resembling someone who’d lost a best friend.

He wasn’t going to regret this. He
wasn’t
. She was just another bitch who he’d licked and then had her suck him off.

Tears slipped out of her eyes, silvery tracks in the moonlit room. Christopher knuckled them away. Fuck. What the fuck was he doing? He
r step fuckhead had molested her and he, Christopher, was damn near raping her. But he wanted her so fucking bad and, now, he’d had a taste of her sweetness. Only, her inexperienced mouth wasn’t the part of her he wanted.

He shot out of bed and yanked his jeans on. Club problems, hours of drinking, sexual frustration combined with his dilemma over Megan. If he said anything
more, it would come out all wrong. He didn’t even know what the fuck he should say. Instead, he leveled a glare at her, grabbed his bottle, and sauntered out of the room.

Meggie hadn’t seen Christopher in three days.
Not since they’d made out in his bed and she’d waged a war between his words and his actions. Her body—his skill—had won out. Then he’d left without a word.

She told herself she was happy, that she didn’t need to see him or
want
to see him for that matter. For the most part, she remained in the bedroom. She’d figured out how to work his stereo system even though the empty iPod dock made her long for the iPad she’d left behind. She tried to focus on the novels Christopher had bought for her, but every time she heard footsteps she remembered hiding beneath the bed while the place had been shot up. On the heels of waiting for gunfire to explode around her, she always expected Christopher to burst into the room. Or try to, since she’d locked the door the morning after he was released from the hospital and left in such a snit.

Her small luxury was having a bathroom at her disposal. Being able to take showers and wash her hair. She couldn’t stand wearing the same dirty clothes she’d had on since forever, so she rummaged through Christopher’s
drawers and found T-shirts to wear to bed and during the day, along with drawstring pants that she had to roll up a gazillion times. She used twine she found at the bottom of his closet to tie around the waist. As for bra and panties…she went without.

Yesterday, she’d gone out into the main room for dinner. At first, she’d gotten a few stares, but they left her alone. Feeling isolated, she’d gone to Christopher’s office. Maybe, there, she could find peace, feel closer to
her father—and Christopher. She decided to do the same thing today. Once she finished eating, though, she’d snoop a little and see what Christopher kept in the desk drawers. He had to have a record somewhere of her father’s final resting place. She should’ve looked yesterday. But she’d worried someone would find her. That was still a possibility this evening, she knew, one she was willing to risk because she’d sat in Christopher’s office for over an hour yesterday, just to feel close to him and her father.

Fixing
a cheese sandwich and grabbing a soda, she mumbled greetings on her way toward the office. She noticed the light on and couldn’t stop the goofy grin. Christopher had returned. He was the only one allowed to go into that office. She swore she’d confess that she’d gone in his office, knowing she wasn’t supposed to.

Balanc
ing her plate on top of the can, she pushed open the door. The food and drink slipped out of her hands and her greeting died on her lips, her stomach sinking to her toes. Christopher leaned over Kiera, bent over the desk, both of them naked. They looked up and Meggie stepped back, mute, frozen, her heart twisting in her chest.

Her gaze dropped to Christopher’s erect penis. A condom covered him but he was still huge, long and thick, and not nearly satisfied. He stared at her, his expression hard. Meggie’s stomach turned and tears rushed to her eyes.

“Would you get out so he can finish doing me?” Kiera snapped, tweaking her nipples. She twisted around and kissed Christopher, the meeting of their tongues very visible.

Christopher chuckled and pulled away
from her. “Wait a minute,” he murmured. Unashamed in his nudity, he sauntered toward Meggie, sidestepping her lost supper. Grabbing her by the arms, he backed her out of the room and slammed the door in her face.

Meggie swiped at her tears then ran to Christopher’
s room. The time had come for her to leave and forget about the conversation she’d had with Digger.

Christopher bought
time with Kiera by cleaning up the mess Megan had made. What the fuck had she been doing in his office any-fucking-way? Just half an hour ago, he’d been ready to fuck Kiera into oblivion. Now? Not so much.

Kiera sidled up to him, reaching for his di
ck. He pushed her away, deciding his healing wounds had him fucking delirious. But he felt tangled inside, furious with Kiera for her accusations against Megan while he waged a war to do right by Megan. And doing right meant keeping his dick out of her. He pulled the condom off and discarded it.  “Get dressed, babe.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth tightened
. “Are you shitting me?” she asked.

“No.” He grabbed his jeans and put them on. He’d lost most of his erection, but he still took care with the zipper.

She planted a kiss in the bridge of his shoulder. A tall girl, the top of her head reached his nose. She slipped her hands in his pants, gripping his cock. “Come on,” she breathed, nipping his nipple.

He pull
ed her hands out of his pants and shoved her away. “Get fuckin’ dressed, Kiera.”

“You have something going on with…with—“ She jerked her head in the direction of his door, the place where Meggie had stood frozen, hurt. Not that he gave a fuck. He just needed to smooth this over with her so she wouldn’t be any trouble in the club. He’d hate to have to put her out.

“I’m givin’ you two bitches a fuckin’ choice,” he snarled. “You can be Megan’s friend and look out for her or I’m barrin’ you cunts from ever settin’ foot in here again.”

Christopher saw the wheels in Kiera’s head turning. She stared at him
through her lashes, scheming. He wasn’t having it.

“If you accept my offer and you backstab me, I’m gonna bury you two.”

She blinked at his harsh tone. He ignored it.

“Meetin’s goin’ on here tomorrow. Megan needs to leave for a
while.” He’d called Zoann but she’d help only if Christopher agreed to turn in his patch. He’d offered to drop Megan off and walk out of her life if Zoann allowed Megan to move in with her. Christopher had promised to pay Zoann’s mortgage as long as Meggie lived with her. He thought Zoann would be a good influence on her. He’d forgotten what a grudge holding bitch she could be.  He’d hung up and decided to enlist Kiera and Ellen.

“Bar us? You don’t mean that.”

“The fuck I don’t, Kiera. If you make Megan cry, hurt her pretendin’ we more than we are, make her feel anythin’ other than at ease and safe, you gonna be some sorry bitches.”

“Ellen said you had your nose shoved up that girl’s pussy. I guess she was right.”

“Whatever the fuck I have with
that girl
ain’tcha fuckin’ business.”

She sucked in a breath. “You really like her, don’t you?”

He shrugged and went to his safe. The safe Snake knew about but left untouched. Christopher counted out some bills and handed them to Kiera. “Be here bright and early tomorrow. Bring her to the mall. She needs new clothes. Let her buy whatever the fuck she wants. I’m thinkin’ about goin’ to Long Beach. See my mother.” But more importantly… “Get Megan the fuck away from here.”

Kiera fisted her hand around the mone
y, then kissed his lips and smiled at him. “Megan’s a lucky girl. I just hope she can handle you.”

Christopher laughed. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

Without speaking, Kiera began to dress, casting confused glances his way. Not only did she look bewildered, she also looked hurt. He wasn’t about to deal with two emotional bitches, so he folded his arms and waited until she left before making his way to his room.

He turned the knob and found it locked. Scowling, he pounde
d on the door. “Open the fuckin’ door, Megan.”

She couldn’t really think to lock him out of his own fucking room, could she? He lifted his fist to pound again when the door opened.
While she stomped away, he stepped in and locked it behind him, staring at the books and magazines stacked on his bed. He recognized them as the ones he’d bought her the other night. Next to that was her backpack.

She swiped the back of her hand across each cheek. “I-I will be gone just as soon as I figure out what to d-do with my books and stuff.” She sniffled.

“What were you doin’ in my office?”

“I’m sick of being
in here,” she spat, her look shooting fiery daggers at him. “I sat in your office yesterday to eat. I-I didn’t think there would be a problem doing the same thing today.”

He stalked to her
, pretending he didn’t give a fuck to see her things spread out. “Obviously, you were wrong.”

Her lower lip trembled. “Obviously, I was,” she whispered.

“Where you goin’?”

She shrugged, then spun away from him. “I’ll find someplace.”

Her little ass outlined his pants as she bent over. Cheeky little bitch, wearing his clothes without his permission. “Sit. I’m gonna shower. Don’t fuckin’ move. If I have to go lookin’ for you, I think I’ll beat you,” he growled. He was angry he’d hurt her and angry he gave a fuck.

Twenty minutes later, a towel wrapped around his hips, he found Megan on the bed, arms crossed, glowering in his direction. Until she saw his state of undress. She turned red and lowered her lashes, but she didn’t look away. Her gaze fastened to one particular part of him and that part jumped. He dropped his towel and her eyes widened. She licked her lips.

A slow burn percolated in his balls and fanned out into every inch of his body. He’d warned her until he was blue as a fucking Smurf. Whatever starry-eyed shit swirling in her head made her not believe his words. Why, he didn’t have a fucking clue. He knew who the fuck he was better than anybody.

He
’d try one more fucking time. Pulling the last shreds of decency from his soul, he walked to her and crouched in front of her, his manner casual, when all he wanted to do was throw her down and fuck her for hours. He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“I ain’t a fuckin’ gentleman, Megan. The closest
I’ve come is with you. Then you barge in my office in the middle of a down stroke. Runnin’ away with those fuckin’ blue eyes of yours filled with tears and shit. All kinds of shit I ain’t supposed to recognize but I did anyway cuz I have fuckin’ sisters.” Even if he didn’t, he’d still recognize Megan’s hurt. She’d reached him that deeply. “Ain’t ever recognized that shit on any other girl but them. And now you.” He stroked her soft cheek, stained pink, warm beneath his caress. She sighed and leaned into his touch. “I ain’t gonna say this shit but one fuckin’ more time, so listen. You in my bed. If I sleep in here, we’re fuckin’. Ain’t no ifs or buts about it. So you think long about that before you answer me. If I leave, I’m gonna go fuck Kiera and—“ The name Ellen died on his lips. Megan didn’t need to be subjected to shit that sordid. At the moment, Ellen just looked like a jealous bitch. “If I walk out, you ain’t got shit to say about who I fuck.”

“Where ha
ve you been for the past three days?”

He frowned at her and dropped his hand.
He’d been taking care of things, but he’d also gone to the cemetery and ordered a headstone for Boss. He didn’t have a casket to put in the ground, but Megan needed a place to visit her daddy. If Outlaw could give her nothing else, he could give her that. Not that she had to know anything until the headstone was placed or what it had cost him to get a headstone for an empty grave when everyone knew who he was. Who Joseph Foy had been. “My whereabouts the past three days ain’tcha business.”

Her shoulders drooped.
Fuck him, why did he have to notice every detail about her?

She cleared her throat.
“So if we make lo—“

“Fuck,” he corrected
, wrestling with his need to keep some distance and his desire to make her happy.

She looked away, her eyes watering again, then nodded. “That’s all we’ll do? I-I mean I-I can’t be your girlfriend?”

“Old lady,” he amended. Confusion knit her brow and he sighed. He’d never worked so hard for pussy. But he wanted her pussy. No doubt about it. “Around here you ain’t a girlfriend. You an old lady. Don’t matter how old you are. It’s a term of respect.”

“Oh.”

“And, no, you wouldn’t be my old lady.”

She chewed on her lower lip. “What would I be?”

“Some ass, I guess.”

His answers was
n’t making her so happy. Tough shit. Her fucking questions wasn’t making him happy. She wanted a relationship. Relationships meant obligations and obligations meant commitment.

She sucked in a breath
and those damnable eyes of hers, the eyes that saw past his outer shell, clouded. “Th-that means anybody could do that with me?”