Misled (29 page)

“No,” she said with a gasp, gripping his biceps, not dropping her gaze.

“I’m the only one who’s fucke
d this sweet pussy?”

“Yes,” she breathed, coating his dick with her juices, his rough talk exciting her.

“Keep it that way, Megan. Don’t have me kill some poor fuck because you gave him some pussy.”

Another whimper and she threw her head back. Unable to resist, he sucked the tender skin of her neck, sinking his teeth in, then blowing on the bite once he had left his mark. He twisted his hips and she shivered. Once, twice, three more times and he brought her to release, coming a moment later.

He held her in his arms, still encased in her, and kissed her damp forehead, then leaned his own on the wall above her head. They stood silent for long moments, then he pulled out of her and set her back on her feet. She stared up at him, her beautiful face flushed and glistening with sweat, her lips red and swollen. Passion still clouded her eyes and he felt his dick hardening all over again.

He’d missed her like fuck and
intended to fuck her for hours to make up for their days apart.

This was the fir
st Christmas Meggie had ever spent without her mother. It shouldn’t have bothered her so much. She was a woman now—Christopher had seen to that—and she had her own life. She couldn’t be Christopher’s old lady and her mother’s little girl. She knew that. But she also knew how wasted Thomas got. On holidays, his drinking increased exponentially and his violence went off-the-charts.

Not only that but she
’d been so used to Christmas gifts until he put a stop to that, too. Now, she barely had a roof over her head, not sleeping on the streets because of Christopher. While she might’ve worried about her place in his life at the clubhouse, at his mother’s house, he was a different person. Gentler and kinder. He seemed more worried about family, his real, true family, not the men he called brothers.

Meggie had learned
bikers lived by a strict code, one that demanded loyalty and respect. They were as much a family as the people related by blood. Yet, it was still a violent, dangerous world, and Meggie wasn’t sure if she could ever get used to it.

Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and, despite everything that stood between them, Meggie couldn’t wait. She’d begged and pleaded for Christopher to have Val, Digger, and Mortician join them, until he’d relented. She needed the presents she’d purchased Black Friday
, anyway. When she suggested she also call and invite Kiera and Ellen, he drew the line.

“Ain’t havin’ them two club whores in this house, Megan. You can bat your pussy at me all you want, I don’t want them here.”

“How do you bat a pussy, Christopher?” Megan had asked, laughing.

He’d chuckled. “You know what the fuck I mean.” They’d been in the bedroom, enjoying the
late afternoon after they’d stayed out until the early morning hours, visiting the boardwalk before returning home and starting a bonfire on the dunes while the ocean roared and the wind blew.

Meggie had started to rise, but Christopher pulled her back.

“Listen, Megan, and I ain’t bullshittin’. As long as you here with me, all these other motherfuckers can go fuck themselves.” A sheepish expression came over his face. “Except Ma.”

Meggie had thumped his shoulder. “Christopher Caldwell, you’re soooo bad.”

He’d tensed and bleakness stole their light moment. “I wish I coulda had Donovan as my last name. I hate my fuckin’ name because I hate the prick it belonged to.”

“Christopher—“

“No, Megan. My grandfather insisted Ma put that name on my birth certificate. Worse thing is the fucker who raped her was there to sign it. She ain’t had a choice and I ain’t had a choice.”

“Your name doesn’t make you.
You’re loyal and protective and funny. You rose above—“

“Have I?” he scoffed. “I fuckin’ dropped outta school in the 9
th
grade. If risin’ above is livin’ in the dirty fuckin’ world I live in, then I hate to see what I woulda done if I woulda stayed mired in shit.”

“You chose to live in this world,” she pointed out, surprised at the derision in his voice. “No one forced you to stay in.”

“Once you’re in, you’re in for life.”

“Johnnie isn’t.”

He glowered at her, a distinct chill added to the austerity. “Yeah, whatever. Johnnie’s a fuckin’ saint. I get that. He has everythin’ a girl could ever want,” he said with bitterness. “A college education. A good job. A pretty face. A big dick even if his shit ain’t bigger than mine.”

Meggie squeaked
and, try as she might, she couldn’t stop the heat of embarrassment spreading through her entire body. She bit her lip, not knowing what to say, and Christopher blew out a noisy breath, more vulnerable than she’d ever seen him. He was opening up to her, showing her a side few, if any, knew about.

“You fucked him, didn’t you, Megan?”

She couldn’t look at him because he’d know for sure something had happened between them, so she just shook her head.

“I think you did, but you
afraid to tell me cuz you know I’ll cut his fuckin’ dick off.”

Then why ask? She wouldn’t say that aloud, though. It would only alert him to the fact that something had gone on. As long as he wondered about it, he couldn’t castrate Johnnie. And, from his tone, she believed he
would
do it without hesitating.

“You are who you are,” she said instead. “The choices you made might not be the perfect ones, but they were the ones you needed for the place you were at in your life.”

She peeked at him through the fringes of her lashes, hoping she’d diverted the conversation back to a safer topic.

He remained quiet for a long while, then he sighed and nodded. “I left you here, Megan. I know I hurt you. I know I told you you needed to test different dicks. Whateve
r happened between you and John Boy—“ He inhaled a deep breath and relaxed for the first time since they’d began talking. He pulled her into his arms and tangled her hair around his hand. Then he spoke again. “It happened. That’s between you and him.”

She thought about the fact that, in all likelihood, she was pregnant. If he believed she’d slept with his cousin, he might not believe the baby was his.
“Christopher, I didn’t have sex with him.” She skated her fingers across his chest. She loved touching him, feeling the ripple of his muscles beneath her fingertips, learning where each scar was, the most recent the ones to his shoulder and thigh. “I didn’t.”

“So you don’t know what his cock looks like?”

“No.” Honest answer. She hadn’t seen Johnnie’s penis. She’d just felt it and caressed it.

Silence. “And you don’t know how it feels.”

Omigod. If she didn’t answer, he’d know but he’d get the wrong idea, too. If she did answer, she’d have to lie to him and, really, the last thing she wanted to do was lie to him. He might’ve hurt her for a bunch of reasons, but never because he’d lied to her.

“Motherfucker,” he growled, rolling onto her to pin her arms above her head.

“It isn’t what you think,” she whispered, desperation creeping into her.

“It’s a fuckin’ yes or no answer, bitch. You felt his dick in you or what?”

“I already told you no. I never felt him inside me!” she flared, squirming beneath him and glaring at him. “Why are you giving me the third degree? Would it matter so much if I had?”

He clenched his jaw, a muscle ticking, hurt and hopelessness in his green eyes.

“Johnnie and I are friends,” she said quietly. “He kept me company while you were gone. Took me places.” She wouldn’t point out he’d taken her places Christopher had promised to bring her. He didn’t need her censure right now. He needed her understanding and reassurance. “But I missed
you
. I wanted
you
.” She swallowed, hoping he understood her next words. “I thought about making love to him. We kissed, Christopher,” she admitted, opening her legs to cradle him between her thighs. She caressed his jawline. “He wasn’t you, though. I couldn’t imagine doing all the things with him, I do with you.”

He nuzzled her neck and she threw her head back to give him better access.
He sank into her and all thoughts of Johnnie had been set aside.

Now, after ten at night,
Christopher sauntered into the room, a towel wrapped around his waist, the tats on his arms and chest glistening with water, his swagger unlike any man’s she’d ever seen. His earlier vulnerability had vanished as if she’d imagined it. He saw her standing there and smiled, the light in his eyes one she was becoming quite familiar with. He crooked his finger at her and her heart rate increased. With just a flick of his hand, her body responded to his and obeyed him without thought.

When she reached him, she rubbed her palms over the hard expanse of his chest, the rigid pole of his penis raising the towel. He settled his hand on her neck and pulled her to him, kissing her hard and rough, leaving her breathless.

She stood on her tiptoes and circled his neck with her arms, giggling when he swept her off her feet. He took a few steps and they reached the bed, falling together onto it. He landed on top of her and shoved her nightgown above her waist, entering her with a deep thrust. She closed her eyes, the sheer bliss of him driving into her making her sigh and groan. His fingers tightened on her chin and she opened her eyes, knowing his signal.

He held her gaze and slammed into her, over and over again. She whimpered and he threw his head back, the muscles in his strong neck straining, his shoulders flexing. He worked his body inside of her. Meggie dug her nails into his back, nosing his
throat and smelling the spice of his aftershave.

“Megan.”

Wet heat surged through her, tightening her core, at his harsh groan of her name.

“Christopher,” she breathed, sucking the skin on his neck.

He kissed her again, his wild, rough lovemaking throwing her into a tumult and stoking the flames of her growing hunger. He sucked her lower lip and pinned her arms above her head.

“What am I doin’
to you?”

Her body was on sensory
overload, nearing orgasm, soaking her center and making the tips of her nipples ache. Tiny explosions were bursting through her, starting in her womb and spreading out over her entire being.

He opened her legs wider and pounded into her, deeper than he’d ever gone. Meggie gasped, his rough movements bordering on pain. She fisted her hands, still above her head, and he tightened his grip on her wrist.

“What am I doin’ to you, huh? Fuckin’ you, yeah?”

She nodded, pleasure exploding through her
, a soft cry falling from her lips. She arched against him and canted her hips. “Yeah,” she said. “You’re”--She swallowed—“fucking me.”

He growled at her confession, the intensity of his stare and his grinding hips bringing another orgasm on. She screamed.

“I’m gonna put my baby inside of you, Megan, yeah?”

“Yes,” she gasped, wanting to confirm he’d already done just that before she mentioned anything. Hearing his demands, though, turned her on, and she doubted she would’ve told him right then even if she was already one hundr
ed percent sure she carried his child.

“You want my baby?”

Her breath came in short pants and her brain could barely process his words. She’d agree to anything, do anything he wanted, as long as he stayed inside of her. “Yes.”

“Say it, Megan. Tell me you want my baby.”

His baby. He wanted to give her his baby.

“Tell me,” he demanded,
leaning over and licking the shell of her ear.

She arched against him, shivering when he sucked her neck. She gripped his firm butt cheeks and dug her heels into the mattress. “I want your baby, Christopher.”

“
Fuck,
” he growled, his big body stiffening and pouring his warmth into her, then collapsing on top of her.

He rested his weight on her, drawing in deep drafts of air.
After a moment, he lifted himself up on his elbows and stared down into her face. He passed a thumb over her lips and smiled down at her, his look so tender Meggie’s heart turned over. She blinked, another world opening up to her, the moment one of blinding clarity. It was as if she was seeing him for the first time, his powerful beauty, his Olympian-like build. Those brilliant green eyes that missed nothing and spoke volumes.

Christopher withdrew from her and turned over on his side. “Face me.”

She mirrored his position and faced him. They remained like that, not saying a word, only staring into one another’s eyes. Once in a while, they smiled at one another or kissed. But they were drinking in each other’s nearness, lost to the outside world, only seeing, knowing, feeling, each other.

Meggie’s eyes d
rooped closed, popping open when Christopher pulled her closer.

“Sleep, Meggie,” he whispered.

That was the first time Christopher had ever called her Meggie. She smiled and closed her eyes, contented.