Misled. Part 17

"You can't possibly want to do that now."

She sounded horrified and embarra.s.sed. He tipped his head back to look at her face. He chuckled, finding her look matched her tone. Keeping his gaze on her, he ran his nose along her slit.

"What are you doing?" she squealed in outrage.

"What the f.u.c.k you think? Smellin' your p.u.s.s.y."

She wriggled her body up, but he wrapped his arms around her thighs and pulled her down.

She covered her face with her hands. "Oh, G.o.d. Kill me now."

He laughed at her theatrics.

She raised up on her elbows. "I need a shower," she said with a prissy little sniff.

He licked the top of her mound and she s.h.i.+vered. "Don't wanna smell soap, Megan. I wanna smell your just f.u.c.ked c.u.n.t filled with my c.u.m."

"My G.o.d! Why?" she wailed, giving up her losing battle and plopping down on the mattress.

"Trust me, sweetheart," he said gruffly, taking pity on her. "I promise you, you ain't gonna give a f.u.c.k what condition your p.u.s.s.y's in once I start lickin' you."

"Doubtful," she mumbled. She stayed focused on the ceiling. "Just get it over with."

Unable to stop his smile, Christopher pushed her legs open further and watched his c.u.m drip out of her. He gathered the moisture up and worked it back inside her with his finger.

"Please, stop staring at that part of me."

"What part of you?"

"There!"

He laughed harder. "I don't know where the f.u.c.k there is, Megan."

"My v.a.g.i.n.a," she snapped.

He laid his head against her hip and guffawed. "I guess my d.i.c.k is a p.e.n.i.s to you, huh?" He didn't remember the last time he'd laughed so hard. "I'll give you lessons on the proper terms for our anatomy another day. Quick refresher. You have t.i.ts and a p.u.s.s.y or a c.u.n.t. I have a c.o.c.k or a d.i.c.k. Got me? I don't f.u.c.k v.a.g.i.n.as. That s.h.i.+t sounds borin'. Hot v.a.g.i.n.a. No. That s.h.i.+t sounds ridiculous. Hot p.u.s.s.y. Hot p.u.s.s.y is much better."

She giggled and nodded, her tension easing.

"Now, I'm gonna lick your hot p.u.s.s.y until you come for me."

She squirmed but whispered, "okay."

He spread her lips and swirled his tongue around her c.l.i.t, sliding across her sensitive flesh. He licked the inside of her p.u.s.s.y lips, lapped at her juices. For all her f.u.c.king complaining, she pushed his head into her p.u.s.s.y and rested her feet on his shoulders, spreading herself for him like a p.o.r.n star at a p.u.s.s.y contest. She rocked against his mouth, gripped his hair, and screamed his name before falling apart against his tongue. Her o.r.g.a.s.m pushed more of his c.u.m out of her p.u.s.s.y but Christopher had the remedy for that.

Before she came back to herself, he rose above her and buried himself inside her. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, the kiss wet and open-mouthed, a complete possession on his part and a total surrender on hers.

Christopher rode her hard and fast, swallowing her whimpers. She came around him, their mouths still fused together, her body open and vulnerable to his driving hips.

"I'm comin', Megan," he growled. "Take it, baby. Take all of it."

"Yes, Christopher," she whispered, her breath fanning his skin, the sound of her voice pus.h.i.+ng him to another powerful release.

He collapsed next to her, panting. Not speaking, Megan curled against him. Once he got his breathing under control, he drew her into his arms and realized she'd already fallen asleep.

Christopher kissed the top of her head and smiled, truly contented for the first time in his life.

Chapter 19.

Close to ten the next morning, Meggie awakened to find Christopher's spot empty. He'd awakened her before the sun rose to make love to her. Spooned against him, he'd widened her legs and then pushed into her. Though she'd been half-asleep, he'd coaxed an o.r.g.a.s.m out of her right before she'd felt the warmth of his seed spurting deep in her belly.

"Go back to sleep, Megan," he whispered, kissing a spot behind her ear and withdrawing from her.

She'd groaned and swore she heard his bark of laughter as she drifted off.

Now, the sun shone through the window, sparkling on the sheets tangled about her body. s.e.x and musk and leather hung in the air, and her nipples responded to the smells. She wished Christopher was there with her to take her again, but he wasn't and she didn't know his whereabouts. Maybe, he'd gone to Kiera and Ellen. Or one of the other girls she'd seen hanging around. She didn't know their names and they looked at her as if they'd gladly kill her, although Christopher never let her far out of his sight whenever they mingled with the others.

The thought of him with another woman sent panic through her and a wave of jealousy so intense she thought sure she wouldn't survive. This was Christopher's life, though, and he'd made it clear he wouldn't change. He'd made it clear they had nothing more than s.e.x between them. He might've been taking her to his mother's house but, then, he was coming back to Kiera and Ellen.

Meggie splayed her fingers on her belly. What was she thinking? Suppose she really did end up pregnant? Then what? She didn't have a job, hadn't even graduated from high school yet. She blinked at the ceiling, at loose ends. In Seattle, she had school and she had Farrah and Lacey. She had homework. She knew her place, knew the fine line she walked between life and death when she was at home.

But here? What was she supposed to do? She wanted to help Christopher because she knew, without being told, he had a lot of responsibilities and a lot of people who presented themselves as friends but Meggie suspected were really enemies. And this wasn't a frenemies type of thing. No, this was life-or-death, end-up-with-a-real-knife-in-the-back type of situation.

Rolling out of bed, she headed for the shower. After she dressed, she'd go to the main room and find someone to hopefully give her something to do with herself, if Christopher wasn't available.

An hour later, Meggie followed the low hum of voices. She'd checked Christopher's office, knocked on the door with the 'Board Room' placard on it, found the main room empty, and the parking lot cleared of almost all the motorcycles. Stepping back inside, she listened and then heard the voices and the clang of pots. The sounds took her through the small kitchen, where she kept her chocolate milk and Milky Way, through another door to a huge kitchen where she saw two probates whose names she didn't know, another mountain of a man with a silver beard, a bald head, a hoop earring and a patch over his left eye. His road name had to be Pirate, she decided. He looked like one. The only thing he needed was a peg leg and he'd be set.

Food was laid out on the counters and Pirate paused in chopping onions to direct one of the other guys to peel a mound of potatoes by thrusting his chin and pointing the huge knife he held. The kitchen had big appliances, almost like the ones behind the counter in the school cafeteria. There were double ovens and double sinks on each side of the room.

Just as Pirate looked up and saw Meggie, a revolving door swung open and a line of girls walked out. Some of them carried bags filled with more food. Others carried the ingredients for cakes while a couple carried paper plates, plastic utensils, and stacks of Solo cups.

"Megan, right?" he asked her.

She nodded, disconcerted by the presence of the other women in broad daylight. Usually, she only had to contend with Ellen and Kiera during the day, not a dozen or so women who looked like centerfold girls and were more than happy to display their bodies even in the kitchen.

She forced her attention back to the man she'd named Pirate. "And you are?"

"K-P."

"Kitchen Pirate?" she blurted. Heat tore through her when the other women t.i.ttered, rolled their eyes, and curled their lips.

K-P hooted with laughter and elbowed the man next to him. "What do you think, Stretch? Think the b.i.t.c.h believes I look like a pirate?"

Stretch blushed as fiercely as Meggie, then raised a startling blue gaze to her. He was young but oh-so-handsome. She nodded and he smiled at her.

"f.u.c.k with her, not only won't you get your patch, you'll lose your d.i.c.k, boy," K-P growled, all humor gone. "Outlaw will rip it from your body." He turned his brown eye to her. "As for me, name's Kitchen Patrol."

"Yeah, as in Kitchen b.i.t.c.h," Val commented, sauntering through the same door the other girls had come through.

"f.u.c.k off, you little roach," K-P commented.

Flipping K-P the finger, Val walked to Stretch and slapped him upside his head. "Consider that a warning. I'm not telling Outlaw you were drooling over Megan's t.i.ts."

"How would you know what he was doing?" Meggie snapped. "You weren't even in here."

He pointed to the ceiling. "Eyes in the sky, babe."

"Cameras?"

Val nodded. "All over the place. In almost every room."

Just kill her now. She swallowed, deciding to act cool. "Which rooms aren't they in?" she squeaked.

Val and K-P exchanged glances, before the younger man laughed. "Gotcha, babe! No camera is in Outlaw's bedroom."

She sniffed and shrugged. "I wasn't worried about that, Val," she lied.

As he snacked on some of the sliced, raw onions, K-P paused to direct the girls on what he needed them to do.

"What do you need, Megan?" Val asked when silence fell, only broken by the chopping of vegetables and seasoning or running water to wash utensils, food, and chopping boards. The girls were silent, eyeing her with curiosity, dislike, or hostility, depending on who was doing the staring. "Megan, ignore the Bobs."

She was almost afraid to ask if all these women's names were Bob, but K-P appeased her curiosity without her asking anything.

"If you suck c.o.c.k, you bob your head up and down." He demonstrated using his finger and Meggie frowned, grossed out. "Anyway, babe, that's why they're called the Bobs. These b.i.t.c.hes are expert d.i.c.k suckers. If you don't have a Masters in Deep Throating, you need not apply."

She gasped in outrage. "So Christopher named them Bobs because they...he-"

Everyone but her laughed.

"You're precious, babe, I swear," K-P barked, chomping on more onions. "Outlaw ain't poetic enough to call these wh.o.r.es Bobs. That's my name for them. He just calls them club a.s.s. The Bobs are exceptional, though, paraded out only on special occasions."

"I need something to do," she announced through tight lips. She wanted to ask where Christopher was, but didn't want to look like she knew about as much-or less-than everyone else.

Val lit up a cigarette and took a few drags. "An emergency came up, so Outlaw had to ride, Megan." Holding his cigarette between two fingers, he twirled it to indicate the room. "This," he began, ashes floating in the air.

"Hey, a.s.shole," K-P yelled. "Get the f.u.c.k out of my kitchen with that s.h.i.+t or I'm going to shovel whatever the f.u.c.k has ashes in it down your f.u.c.king throat."

Val glared at him and took another drag. "We're gonna have brothers from support chapters spending Thanksgiving with us. Some of them arrived earlier and we need food to feed everyone."

"And girls to entertain everyone," Megan said dryly, unable to help the comment.

Val smiled. "That, too. You were still sleeping and s.h.i.+t, and he told us not to wake you up." He shrugged. "But s.h.i.+t needed to get going, so I rounded up some b.i.t.c.hes to get started."

"Well, what can I do to help?"

"There's gonna be a party later. This'll be your first real taste of a club party, so just chill today. Okay? Call Kiera and Ellen. Go buy a pretty outfit. After today, this s.h.i.+t's yours to plan." He pointed to K-P, purposely allowing more ashes to fall from the tip of the cigarette. "This a.s.shole is your kitchen b.i.t.c.h from here on out for parties and s.h.i.+t. What you tell him to do, he'll do." He thrust a thumb over his shoulder. "These b.i.t.c.hes and any other b.i.t.c.h come through here has to follow what you tell them to do. They give you s.h.i.+t, you throw them the f.u.c.k out or have one of us do it." He shrugged. "If you like them, don't tell Outlaw if they f.u.c.k with you. Handle it yourself. Put them in their places. You tell him, whether you like them or not, he's either going to bar them from the club forever or take away their privileges for a few weeks. Either way, he'll forbid you to have contact with them. If you don't like them, tell him if they f.u.c.k with you."

"Umm-"

"What he's saying, babe," K-P called, popping more onions into his mouth and not looking up from his task, "is Christopher is president. That makes you the first b.i.t.c.h."

It was pointless to insist they not call her a b.i.t.c.h. They were going to do it anyway. She huffed out a breath. "You mean first lady?"

Val and K-P exchanged glances. "Yeah, that, too," K-P agreed.

"Of the Death Dwellers?" she asked for clarification.

"Yeah, you got a problem with that?" K-P asked. His shoulders had tensed and it sounded as if he brought the blade down a little more forceful than necessary.

"Nope. Christopher loves this club," she said softly, thinking of another man who felt the same. "So did my daddy. It's an honor. I just hope I do them proud." She lowered her lashes, uncomfortable with the admiration in the gazes of Val, K-P, Stretch, and the other probate whose name she still didn't know. She finally moved from the spot she'd stood in since she walked through the doors. "I don't have any money to go shopping. Besides, I went yesterday, and we're going next week. I don't think Christopher would like it if I went shopping again today."

"Megan-"

"What I'd really like to do is cook Christopher a meal."

Val grinned. "Have at it in the smaller kitchen for now. I'm sure Outlaw would like that. But you can't do it today. He's not getting back until later. By then all this food will be ready." He threw the cigarette down and stepped on it to put it out. "Advice from a Valentine." He winked and grinned at her and, for the first time, she noticed his dimples. "There's gonna be a lot of b.i.t.c.hes here. You're going to see s.h.i.+t you've never seen before. Outlaw has put the word out but there are vicious b.i.t.c.hes out there. I'm gonna call Ellen and Kiera so they can take you back to the mall. Get an outfit...It's like this-better to have him jealous of you than you be jealous of him."

"That's totally up to Christopher," she snapped. "If he doesn't think enough about me not to make me jealous-"

"See them b.i.t.c.hes in here? How little they have on? We're going to double that here tonight, all half-dressed, serving your man and all the other boys. Outlaw's a man, babe. He might not touch, but he's sure the f.u.c.k going to look at all that t.i.ts and a.s.s."

"He'll look at them regardless if I'm showing my t.i.ts and a.s.s, too."

"Just because he has eyes in his f.u.c.king head. He'll be looking but he won't be seeing if you're in here with some s.e.xy little outfit, too."

She c.o.c.ked her head to the side. "I'm getting a pervy vibe from you, Val," she pointed out, folding her arms.

"Aww s.h.i.+t, Megan. You're f.u.c.king gorgeous. Do I want to see you in some little dress with f.u.c.k-me-heels on? f.u.c.k yeah. But I'm not the one whose attention you want. I'm telling you, babe, set the precedent now. So you don't have to worry about later."

Meggie agreed to let Val call Kiera, so she and Ellen could pick her up, but asked for at least two hours before they arrived. He agreed, slammed a wad of bills into her hands, and disappeared. She wanted to clean Christopher's bedroom and take care of the laundry piling up.

The laundry room was located off the west end of the building, right off the second hallway. Just like the kitchen, the laundry room was extreme with three commercial grade washers and dryers, minus the slots for coins. Along the back wall were four ironing stations. It surprised her they didn't have a commercial steam press. Whatever. At least she'd be able to get most of the wash done, including the bed sheets, comforter, towels, and a lot of their clothes.

In between runs to the laundry room, she scrubbed the washbasin, bath tub, and toilet, dusted the furniture in the bedroom, cleaned the mirrors then swept and mopped. Although she wouldn't have time to save their clothes, she made up the bed and placed the teddy bear Christopher had given to her for her birthday in the center on the mound of fluffed up pillows.

By that time, Val was calling for her because Kiera and Ellen were outside. It surprised her to see a late model silver Impala instead of Ellen's raggedy pink van. The pa.s.senger side door opened and Kiera got out, wearing sweats and running shoes, her hair in a ponytail, looking like a regular girl. Reluctant, Meggie trudged to the car and slid into the back seat, returning Kiera's smile and scowling at Ellen's glare.

"Val said you need an outfit for tonight," Kiera began, strapping her seat belt on.

"Yeah," Meggie grumbled. She still preferred not to have to spend time with the two with Christopher's intentions to spend time with them over the holidays, but she'd either been at the club or in a hospital since she'd met Christopher, the exception being yesterday. It p.i.s.sed her off, though, that he still wanted her to be around them. She settled against the leather seats, enjoying the new car smell, frowning at the growl of motorcycles. She glanced in both directions, startled to find bikes on either side of the car and another tailing when she looked out the rear gla.s.s.