A Very Christopher Christmas (A Death Dwellers MC Novella) (11 page)

“Knock, knock.”
 

Kendall’s voice accompanied a small knock on the bathroom door right before she stepped inside.
 

Or maybe not. Why respect a bitch who didn’t have the fucking decency to respect herself, her husband, or any-fucking-body else?
 

As CJ craned his neck back and forth, a frown screwing up his little face, Christopher glared at Kendall.
 

CJ studied Christopher a moment. “MEG-ANN,” he suddenly screeched, darting out of the bathroom and into their bedroom.
 

“No, wait!” Kendall called, reaching for him but not quick enough to catch him.
 

“No wait, my motherfuckin’ ass,” Christopher snarled. “Get the fuck outta here.”
 

“Mommie!” CJ’s voice traveled through the opened door. “Ant Kenda! MOMMIE!”
 

Kendall glanced nervously at the door. “I need to talk to you.”
 

Folding his arms, Christopher glowered at her. It didn’t fucking escape him that every time bitches sniffed around him and CJ saw, he made sure Megan knew. To Christopher that meant Megan discussed, in front of their boy, how women around Christopher aggravated her and CJ was protecting her. Just like CJ listened to Christopher and his conversations, his boy did the same with Megan.
 

“Outlaw, just hear me out,” Kendall persisted.
 

Leaning against the counter, he kept his mouth fucking shut. No matter what he told this bitch, she did shit her way. This situation required Megan to handle it.
 

“Johnnie is going to—”
 

“Kendall?” Megan’s groggy voice interrupted Kendall as she stumbled into the room and rubbed her eyes.
 

CJ clutched Megan’s hand and glared at Johnnie’s bitch. “Bye, Ant Kenda.”
 

Megan blinked, the sleep clearing from her face though she still looked pale and exhausted. As she focused more, she narrowed her eyes at Kendall. “What are you doing in the bathroom with Christopher?”
 

“Her talk to ‘Law.”
 

“She can talk to him when he’s dressed,” Megan snapped, stepping aside and nodding to the door, indicating Kendall get the fuck out. “Leave.”
 

“By now you should know I have no sexual desire for your husband,” Kendall retorted, laying her hand on her huge belly. As if that was supposed to fucking matter.
 

“The next time Johnnie’s in the shower, call me so I can have a conversation with him,” Megan huffed.
 

If that image didn’t fuck off Christopher so much, he’d enjoy Kendall’s suddenly pinched features, like she’d sucked on a sour dick. She liked the thought of Megan approaching Johnnie in the shower even less than Christopher, and that shit said a fucking lot.
 

“You’d have to talk to him first,” Kendall pointed out. “Remember? You haven’t talked to my husband in…how many months?”
 

“Out, Kendall,” Megan ordered, not responding to Kendall’s statement. Ever since Johnnie had turned into a stupider fuckhead, Megan hadn’t said not even fucking hello to the motherfucker. “Christopher will talk to you when he’s dressed.”
 

“You have nothing to say to that, Outlaw?” Kendall challenged.
 

“I gotta few fuckin’ things to say to that, but I ain’t sayin’ ‘em in front my boy so Megan do her pussy lockout. Your fuckin’ ass wait ‘til I get to your ass when CJ not the fuck round.”
 

“Don’t pretend your balls are any bigger than Johnnie’s.” Before either of them responded, Kendall stomped away.
 

“Christopher—”
 

“Don’t say a fuckin’ word, baby. ‘Specially if you ‘bout to defend her fuckin’ ass.”
 

Megan shifted her weight, all belly as usual.
 

A realization dawned on Christopher and he frowned. “You losin’ weight?”
 

“I’m fine,” she answered. “The doctor said I have nothing to worry about. I’m going into my third trimester and sometimes women lose weight.”
 

Resting his head on Megan’s belly, CJ grinned up at her. Suddenly, he tripped forward. “Owee! Wyder kick me.”
 

“Silly goose,” Megan said around laughter, ruffling his hair. “You know your brother didn’t kick you that hard.”
 

CJ giggled at Megan’s teasing before turning and heading toward their bedroom door, yelling, “Bye, MegAnn. Bye, ‘Law.”
 

“Thank you for not chastising him for calling me by my name,” she said, allowing Christopher to grab her hand and pull her into their bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as he removed his towel.
 

“I ain’t decided what the fuck I’ma do to fuckin’ stop him.”
 

“We’ll think of something,” she whispered, taking his cock into her hand and licking the head.
 

Fuck, one of them should probably close and lock the door that CJ had left open, but Megan hadn’t been interested in fucking for a couple of days. If he interrupted her dick-sucking, she might decide to forget about his cock, when there was nothing better in the world than having Megan’s touch.
 

Pulling her to her feet and happy as a motherfucker that she wore a maxi dress instead of pants, he turned her and bent her over the side of the bed, where she braced herself on her elbows. He shoved her dress above her waist and slid the seat of her panties aside, sliding into her hot pussy and groaning at the pure fucking pleasure coursing along his nerve endings.
 

“Christopher,” she breathed, the sound of his name as he fucked her, driving him insane.
 

Gripping her hips, he pounded into her, her warm slickness squeezing his cock, his balls slapping against her clit. She trembled. Unable not to have closer contact with her, Christopher wrapped her hair around one of his hands and bent forward, biting her neck.
 

“Come for me, Megan,” he directed against her ear, blowing on the red mark and absorbing her shivers. “Come all over my cock. I wanna have your pussy juice on my dick all evening.”
 

Releasing a soft cry, she jerked against him, flooding his prick with her cream. Cum fountained from him and into her. Aware of his weight, he held himself rigidly, his hands beneath her holding her up until her breathing returned to normal.
 

Once it did, he kissed behind her ear and stood, enjoying the view of her ass in the air, one cunt lip peeping from her panties.
 

“I’m going to shower,” she announced, but, to Christopher, something in her tone bothered him. She didn’t sound like
his
Megan.
 

What the fuck was he missing?
 

“Okay, baby. I’ll get dressed and meetcha downstairs.”
 

“Okay.”
 

She headed to the bathroom while he went toward his closet.
 

“Megan?”
 

Without turning, she stopped.
 

“If you sick and that motherfucker missing it, he a fuckin’ dead man.”
 

She didn’t answer, but he saw the smallest nod. One that didn’t encourage him at all.
 

 

Too tired to dress immediately, Meggie put Christopher’s little-used terrycloth robe on, then secured a towel around her head, intending to crawl into bed to continue the nap CJ interrupted. Of all the scenarios she’d expected upon opening her eyes at his shaking her and yelling her name, finding Kendall in the bathroom with Christopher wasn’t it.
 

Meggie couldn’t wait until Kendall delivered her baby. She’d gone completely off the rails again and it was all Meggie could do not to strangle her. The final three weeks left to Kendall’s pregnancy needed to hurry on before something really bad happened.
 

The moment Meggie stepped from the bathroom and into the bedroom, a voice cleared. Releasing a frightened cry, she whirled in the direction of the sound.
 

“What are you doing in here?” she asked on a gasp, tightening the robe around her.
 

Johnnie stood from the couch located on the other side of the room, a sheepish expression on his face. “At least you talked to me.”
 

Although Christopher’s robe swallowed her, she folded her arms in front of her, a maneuver she recognized as defensive. Instead of speaking again, she lifted a brow.
 

“I’m sorry, Megan.” He raised his hands. “That’s what? Apology number fifty?”
 

Had he really apologized so many times? Meggie didn’t know and, at this point, what did it matter? She missed Johnnie’s friendship, but she was so incredibly tired of the word vomit he spewed to her and Christopher during stressful times. She looked at her toes, peeking from the hem of the robe. “Does it matter how many times you’ve said sorry?”
 

“To me it does. Why are you being so difficult?”
 

“Why are you in my bedroom? What is it with you and Kendall, cornering my husband and me when we’re barely dressed?”
 

“This was Kendall’s idea.”
 

Rolling her eyes, Meggie went to the bed and sat on the edge. “It figures. She’s trying to get you killed. If Christopher comes in and sees you in here with me wearing only his robe, he’s going to shoot you.”
 

“She’s talking to him downstairs.”
 

If Johnnie and Kendall had gone through such extremes to talk, it had to be important so Meggie would hear him out.
 

“I need your help,” he started.
 

“For?”
 

He sat back down and picked up his high-ball glass from its place on the table next to the couch. “What I wouldn’t give for a beer,” he said wryly.
 

“There’s beer in there.” She pointed to the cabinet hiding the mini refrigerator stocked with the bottled water for her and beer for Christopher. “Have one.”
 

Instead of moving immediately, Johnnie considered his glass a moment, then looked at her. “Will you tell Kendall?”
 

“Huh?” Tell Kendall that Johnnie drank a beer? Why would that even matter?
 

Seeming to come to a decision, he nodded, went to the refrigerator and got a bottle of beer. Once he opened it, he drank deeply and sighed in pleasure. “You don’t know how good this is.”
 

As curious as she was about Johnnie’s concern that Kendall find out he’d enjoyed a beer, she wouldn’t even question that, uninterested in small talk. She wanted to get to the point of this visit. “What do you need me to help you with?”
 

“I’ll explain in a minute,” he swore, finishing the beer and quickly grabbing another one. He hadn’t moved from the refrigerator. Easy access, she supposed. “First, tell me why you refuse to talk to me.”
 

Fatigue wearing her down, Meggie scooted back and rested against the headboard. “I’m tired of being your verbal punching bag. Whenever you’re upset, you take it out on me or Christopher. I refuse to allow you to treat me like that anymore.” Though not the main reason, a big part was… “If it kept up, Christopher would get fed up with you.”
 

A muscle ticked in Johnnie’s jaw. “And kill me, right? Because you’re too delicate to handle—”
 

“You have two choices,” she interrupted evenly, in no mood for his insults. His words indicated that was the road he was headed down. “Either you talk to me better or you get out. I’ve never done one thing to you. Neither has Christopher and yet you think it’s okay to crap on me and him whenever you’re upset.”
 

“You once promised to forgive me anything.”
 

Vaguely, she recalled such a conversation but she hadn’t sworn to give him license to scream and holler at her anytime he had a bad day. Surely, Johnnie knew that.
 

“Within reason,” she said softly. “I never expected you to turn into a self-righteous, judgmental, mean-spirited snob.”
 

He reeled back, bumping against the cabinet handle, his eyes widening as a wounded look crossed his face. “That’s what you think of me?”
 

“That’s what you’ve shown me and Christopher,” she countered. “Say what you will about my husband, but he forgives you over and over again after you insult him time after time. Since the start of her latest pregnancy, Kendall looks down on us. None of us are better than the other. And, yet, the two of you set yourselves above us. We’re family. Friends, I thought. We’re supposed to be in this together.”
 

“You just hit the nail on the head. Kendall’s pregnant.”
 

“You aren’t, so stop acting like a hormonal lady.”