A Very Christopher Christmas (A Death Dwellers MC Novella) (7 page)

“Even Meggie?” Megan glared at Kendall. “I didn’t make Christopher put the house in my name. He did that on his own because he loves me. I still consider it
our
house.”
 

“Now now, no need for your inner brat to reveal itself.” Kendall leaned back and rested her hands on her belly. “We all know you think about me all the time and take my advice more than you admit. Right? I mean look at how you’ve handled your money. Exactly as I would’ve advised you. Furthermore, you haven’t been kind to me since Halloween and I want to know why.”
 

What the fuck did one fucking subject have to do with the other?
 

Apparently Megan under-fucking-stood because a dark look crossed her face. “I haven’t been anything, Kendall,” she replied. “This is the first I’ve seen you since then.”
 

Before Christopher did something he fucking regretted with the bitch on a sudden rampage, he got to his feet. “That’s my fuckin’ cue to get my girl and my kids and get the fuck gone.”
 

“You’re letting him dictate to you like that? You’d abandon me and our conversation?”
 

“No, Kendall,” Megan said on a sigh. “I’m not abandoning you, but I
am
annoyed with you. You and I both know you have the solution to be better. Because you did. For over a
year. Then, against your doctor’s wishes, against
everyone’s
wishes, you stopped your medicine and revert back to the woman you were.
You
didn’t even like that woman. I’m here for you. I’m your friend. Your sister-in-law. As both, I’m telling you you’re not doing yourself or any of us a favor by thumbing your nose at the means to help yourself.”
 

Well, fucking, well, well. Megan had finally lost her fucking shit with Johnnie’s bitch.
 

This had to be the sweetest fucking moment of the year for Christopher.
 

Kendall burst into tears and jumped to her feet, which, in turn, made Megan’s face crumple.
 

“Bunny, bring the kids when you come home,” Christopher instructed, going to Megan and sweeping her into his arms, gritting his teeth at the sound of Kendall’s loud sobs and Johnnie’s soothing tone.
 

As Christopher started toward the door, Megan opened her mouth.
 

“Kendall, I’m—”
 

“Don’t fuckin’ do it, baby,” Christopher interrupted. “Don’t fuckin’ apologize to her. Every fuckin’ thing you said to that bitch was fuckin’ right.”
 

Instead of giving Megan a chance to apologize anyway, he hurried out of the room, hoping Bunny decided to stay behind another couple of hours.
 

 

“I shouldn’t have blown up at Kendall like that,” Meggie said with regret as Christopher carried her through their front door, where a huge autumn wreath hung.
 

A family of Pilgrims greeted them in the foyer. As usual, Christopher glared at the fiberglass people and Meggie poked him. Grunting, he continued down the hall and to the staircase. All the way up, garlands of fall leaves decorated the banisters. At the second floor landing, ceramic turkeys stood. The smallest had recently been rescued from the toilet in the hallway bathroom, after CJ dumped it and tried to flush. He thought the overflowing water hilarious.
 

Meggie shook her head. Christopher had laughed, but he wasn’t quite as amused.
 

When Christopher reached the third floor, Meggie rested her head on her husband’s chest, inhaling his scent—alcohol, smoke, cologne, and
him
. She nuzzled his neck and he set her on her feet, keeping his hands at her waist to steady her.
 

Her palms flat on his chest, Meggie stood on her tiptoes, sighing when Christopher slanted his mouth over hers for a heated kiss. She threaded her fingers through his hair as he backed her against a wall, tweaking her sensitive nipples.
 

“Bedroom down the fuckin’ hall, baby,” he whispered between kisses as he slid her jeans and panties down. “Can’t wait that fuckin’ long for dick, huh?”
 

She stepped out of her clothes. “I want you so bad.”
 

His husky, satisfied laughter sent shivers through Meggie. He turned her and she braced her hands on the wall. He skimmed his rough fingertips along the backs of her thighs, sending fire through her veins.
 

A moment later, he slid into her, fisting her hair.
 

“You got good, hot pussy, Megan.”
 

He withdrew from her before thrusting into her again, leaning against her and biting her neck.
 

“Christopher,” she breathed.
 

This time when he pulled out of her, he released her hair and slid to his knees, burying his face against her slick feminine lips and licking her. She groaned, pushing against his
tongue. He lapped at her clit, driving Meggie insane until the heat of his mouth became too much and she shattered.
 

Keeping an arm around her, Christopher stood and lifted her into his arms, kissing her deeply once more, allowing her to taste herself. He carried her into their bedroom. She’d left an accent lamp on and it gave off a low light, enough for her to clearly see the desire in her husband’s green eyes.
 

He deposited her on the bed, then left her, briefly disappearing into the hallway and returning with the clothes she’d removed. He closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, considering her.
 

“Don’t fuckin’ regret what you told Kendall.”
 

She wrinkled her nose. “Kendall doesn’t mean most of what she says.” While she wasn’t thinking about her sister-in-law at the moment, when she had time to ponder her words and actions, Meggie would regret tonight. “I understand what she’s going through.”
 

That was the reason she was trying her best to stay away from Kendall, for the time being.
 

Glowering, Christopher stalked to the little refrigerator. He grabbed a beer for himself and a water for her. Once he opened both, handed her the water, drank his beer and sat next to her, he glanced at her.
 

“Keep givin’ this bitch a pass and I’ma fuckin’ believe you a pushover.”
 

Meggie sipped from her water, then sat it on the table and crawled to her side of the bed, the air cool against her bare bottom. “There’s nothing wrong with offering her understanding.”
 

“Yeah, the fuck there is. That’s what that bitch want, to get the fuck over on motherfuckers. Every-fuckin-thing you told her, her ass needed to fuckin’ hear.”
 

“She just makes me so mad sometimes.”
 

“Then don’t fuckin’ apologize for that.” He finished off his beer, then stood and undressed himself as she removed the rest of her clothes. Once they were both naked and in bed, he pulled her into his arms. “You not a fuckin’ puppet, Megan. You got emotions just like that bitch. Don’t turn them the fuck off, cuz she sure the fuck don’t ig-fuckin-nore hers.”
 

“I know and it seems all I ever do is defend her to you, but I know how she acted before she got pregnant again. She was happy and friendly and—”
 

“And fuck her. I wasn’t sayin’ that shit to start a long fuckin’ conversation ‘bout her. I just didn’t want you to fuckin’ get it in your head to tell her you was fuckin’ sorry for tonight.”
 

“Okay.”
 

“Cuz I swear, baby, the way you told her the fuck off almost got my dick off then and there.”
 

She frowned at him.
 

“E-fuckin-nuff ‘bout that bitch. We got better fuckin’ things to do.”
 

“Like what?” she teased. “Maybe, talk about what you want me to cook when we check all the lights and ornaments in a couple weeks?”
 

Turning her onto her side and caressing the underside of her breast, Christopher bit her ear. “Nope. Seein’ how well my big cock fit into your little cunt.”
 

“Oh,” she responded on a breathless giggle. “In that case, who am I to argue?” she whispered, quite content for Christopher to test his theory.
 

 

“No fuckin’ way.”
 

“I’m sorry, Outlaw, but this has to be done.”
 

Christopher scowled at Brooks Redding, the attorney who served as the club’s lawyer. With only a week before Thanksgiving, the motherfucker was now insisting Christopher get his ass on a goddamn plane and head overseas to complete the deal with McCallister.
 

No. Fucking. Way.
 

Even if Christopher had changed his mind, which he fucking hadn’t, Brooks couldn’t even fucking reassure him of the time-fucking-frame. He just had to hop his ass where-the-fuck-ever while his wife was twenty-eight weeks pregnant, to pla-fucking-cate a fuckhead, who wouldn’t take fucking no for a fucking answer. Maybe, the motherfucker didn’t have a family to be with during the holidays, but Christopher did. Megan loved this time of year. Since Halloween, he’d allowed her to host a party, a barbecue, and a dance at the club for the brothers and their families. Next week, they were going to have a massive Thanksgiving feast and the day after that was Black Friday.
 

It was Christopher’s and Megan’s thing to go shopping on that day, from the time they’d met. He wasn’t about to break tradition this year and disappoint her.
 

“I ain’t doin’ it, Brooks,” Christopher declared, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair. He searched the faces of each of his officers. Mortician, Digger, and Stretch kept carefully blank expressions. Cash tapped his fingers on the conference table. Val slid his cell phone closer to the edge, to better read whatever text he’d just gotten. From Zoann, no doubt.
 

Johnnie was the only motherfucker with the audacity to look outraged.
 

Flipping him off, Christopher lifted a brow. “You fuckin’ go, John Boy. You wanna soothe this motherfucker feelins so much. I ain’t try’na find a goddamn transport plane or any of that shit just when the holiday season kickin’ in and go.”
 

“You know I can’t do that. Kendall’s due date is three and a half weeks away. I have to be here. Let Mort go.”
 

“And leave Bailey with a toddler and an infant?” Mortician snapped.
 

“Roxy lives with you. She’ll look after her, your son, and Harley,” Johnnie countered.
 

“I got a better fuckin’ idea,” Val said. “I can go.”
 

Brooks raised his hand, already shaking his head in disagreement. “McCallister wants you, Outlaw.”
 

“The fuckin’ deal fell through, but we fuckin’ returned his money with fuckin’ interest. I already told that motherfucker that.”
 

“To avoid bullshit, I can go,” Val repeated.
 

The deal had been Val’s in the first place.
 

“If we do as he asks, everyone wins,” Brooks continued.
 

“He actually fuckin’ threatenin’ you now, Brooks?”
 

Christopher would have to put a bug in McCallister’s ear if that was the case. He wouldn’t allow any of his people to be fucking threatened out-fucking-right.
 

Brooks removed his handkerchief from his jacket lapel pocket and wiped his brow with a shaking hand. This motherfucker was scared. It sure the fuck wasn’t hot in the fucking room. They all sat with their jackets on and not one of them broke a sweat.
 

“This is a lot of money we’re talking about, Outlaw,” Brooks continued. “After you give the brothers their portion, Val would still walk away with a bundle.