Misappropriate (9 page)

He wanted Cee Cee and he wanted the motherfucker who’d brought him to the club in the first goddamn place.

He’d called Megan to tell her to open the door, then she’d answered the phone in her I’ve-just-fucked voice and he hadn’t been able to stop himself from bringing the freak out in her. One thing for fucking sure was his girl was a freaky little nymphomaniac, and he loved-fucking
loved
-it, especially since he was responsible for it.

She stood there, in a pink floor-length silk robe, cradling his boy in her arms. CJ seemed wide awake. Christopher stepped inside, pausing to slant his mouth over Megan’s and drink in her sweet taste. She smelled like sex and the cherry blossom scented shampoo she favored.

A voice cleared in the background, pulling him away from Megan’s lips. He lifted his head, grabbed his son, and sauntered past his wife. He narrowed his eyes at Dinah and she swallowed, took a step back toward the fancy chocolate-covered sofa with an abandoned pillow and blanket. Megan was very protective of the woman and didn’t like Christopher to frighten her. Too fucking bad.

“Listen up, Dinah,” he began, smiling at CJ when he saw his wide baby grin. “You ever let a strange motherfucker sit next to Megan again, I’m barrin’ your fuckin’ ass from bein’ around her.”

She bit on her lip and gazed passed him to where Megan stood, her eyes pleading for rescue. “You wouldn’t allow that, would you, Meggie?”

Probably not, which irritated the fuck out of Christopher, but it was what it was.

“Not because of you exchanging your seat with that awful man, no,” Megan said, confirming what he already knew. “But for what you did to my son, I’m tempted to bar you myself.”

Dinah’s blue eyes widened and Christopher snorted. He needed to sit the fuck down in that wingback chair and enjoy the fucking show of Megan blasting Dinah.

“Meggie—“

“Don’t Meggie me, Momma. You sold your house to be near me and I was glad. I thought it was a chance for us to start over. But you’re not the same mother I remember and I’m not the same girl I was. The time for following my every move was when your husband was climbing in my bed and feeling me up. Or, maybe, standing by me when I called the police
to help you
and you denied he’d hit you then stood by while he beat the crap out of me, then knocked you senseless.” 

Megan swiped away her tears, the sight snatching away the fury rising in Christopher at the reminder of her step fuckhead. The memories of what Megan had gone through would stay with her for the rest of her life. He’d always believed she’d never confront her mother because Dinah seemed so broken, so it was hard for him to believe she’d ever been the strong woman Megan claimed.

Megan shuddered. “I’m giving you one, last chance, Momma. Your mothering gene might’ve been beaten out of you, but you better find your grandmothering one. If you
ever
do anything to CJ like you did earlier, I’m never talking to you again.”

Without another word, Megan stomped to the bedroom and slammed the door shut, leaving her whiny ass Ma staring at him with huge, teary eyes.

“I didn’t mean any harm,” she said on a sob.

Christopher snorted. “We don’t give our boy no drugs, Dinah.”

“I just wanted—“

“Don’t much give a fuck what
you
wanted. CJ mine and Megan’s son.”

“Megan’s the last person I have. If she stops loving me, I’ll have no one.”

Motherfuck him, if her pathetic statement didn’t touch Christopher’s heart. He sighed. “Megan ran away to find Big Joe to help you. She love you. She just sick of your fuckin’ ass. You the adult and for too many fuckin’ years, you made her take care of
you
. I might’ve made her grow up by takin’ her to my bed and givin’ her my kid, but it ain’t no one sided shit. I have her back and she got mine. Does she act like a spoiled little bitch sometimes? Yeah. Throw tantrums like a little girl? Fuck yeah. The way I fuckin’ see it, she deserve it cuz when she shoulda been able to do that shit with you, you was lettin’ that fuckhead take away every-fuckin-thin’ you meant to yourself. Everythin’ Megan remembers about you. And, most of all, you was failin’ your baby girl.” Yeah, he felt sorry for her, but, fuck, the bitch needed to be told how much she’d fucked up. Only by holding onto the words of her father—and harming herself with knives—did Megan get through the abuse.

Christopher didn’t think he’d
ever
respect Dinah for leaving Megan so unprotected.

He started past her and her shoulders slumped.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He thought about his own mother and how he missed the fuck out of her. Patricia had had her faults as well, but he’d never wanted to see her cry. She’d been his mother and he’d loved her. Just like he knew Megan loved her mother. Megan didn’t have hate in her. A bad fucking temper? Yeah. Hate and grudge-holding? No.

He slanted a sour glance at Dinah, thought about Big Joe. Boss hadn’t known how to handle how he felt about this woman, but it had broken his heart when she’d stopped him from coming around. Christopher really believed he’d been as hurt that he couldn’t see Dinah as he’d been about not having easy access to their daughter. Despite that, Megan knew Big Joe would’ve dropped everything to rescue Dinah.

He scowled and reached out to grab her in an awkward hug. She sniffled and he prayed she wouldn’t leave snot on his cut.

“You gotta get past this bullshit, Dinah,” he said gruffly. He pulled back from her and patted her shoulder. “Megan ain’t gonna let nobody hurt you. Just don’t fuck with our boy.” He hoped he’d said that enough that it got through Dinah’s thick fucking skull. Since Megan had covered just about everything he would’ve thought to say and more, he didn’t feel like he needed to add more. He’d intended to fuck Megan into oblivion, but, he should’ve just let her finish coming without adding shit, since he hadn’t been there to swallow her screams.

Fuck him, but he couldn’t wait ‘til their honeymoon when he had her all to himself.

“Get some sleep,” he told his mother-in-law and started toward Megan’s bedroom.

“You’re not saying anything about what I did?”

Her question made Christopher want to scream so much shit at her that her eardrums popped. And, he could, too. Megan was pissed with her, so she wouldn’t give a shit what the fuck he told Dinah. This was his chance.

He lifted a brow. “Nope. My wife covered all the shit I coulda thought about without threatenin’ to bury your fuckin’ ass.”

Not waiting for her to respond, he walked the fuck away and left her standing in the middle of the suite.

Chapter 5

“What do you think?” Meggie asked around a yawn, holding up two negligees for Lacey’s and Farrah’s approval.

Farrah sat with her legs crossed, her sunglasses covering her bloodshot eyes. Lacey’s shades were pushed back in her purple hair, her leg thrown over one of the chairs she sat in. A saleswoman hovered in the background, ready to jump to Meggie’s bidding because Meggie had already chosen a few bra and panty sets and other sexy nightclothes now piled behind the register up front and guarded by the other sales lady.

“Have you gotten everything else for the wedding taken care of?” Lacey asked, the question prompting Meggie to drop her arms.

“Yes,” Meggie confirmed with a wide smile. “I’ve even chosen our China pattern.”

Farrah laid her head back. “Christopher didn’t help you?”

“Of course not. He’s happy to let me handle all the details.” Although he had suggested the colors for the wedding—peach, blueberry, and cream—and helped with the guest list.

Lacey flicked her nails together, then wrinkled her nose. “You don’t feel funny he’s so much older than you?”

Meggie rearranged the two negligees and straightened them on her lap. “Not at all. Do you?”

“Kind of,” Lacey confessed with a shrug. “I mean—“ She blew out a breath. “Sensible girls just don’t get married so young and get saddled with a kid. That’s plain stupid.”

“What I do with my life is my choice,” Megan said evenly, the underlying concern in Lacey’s tone keeping Megan’s temper in check. “I’m happier now than I’ve ever been and I don’t regret one minute of my life with Christopher.”

She fanned herself, a small pain in her belly a reminder of how well—and how hard, at times—Christopher had pleasured her.

“If you say so.”

“I do say so, Lacey. From now on, unless I ask for your opinion about my husband, keep them to yourself.”

Farrah yawned. “Calm down, Megster. Ignore Lacey and let’s talk about your honeymoon. Have you planned that yet?”

A distant chime sounded in the air, the signal another customer had arrived, but Meggie and her little group sat in a partitioned area, way in the back where plush seats were grouped near the dressing rooms.

“Christopher’s handling the honeymoon. We’re going to London,” she announced with excitement. She’d never been out of the country and had never traveled no further than Disney Land in Anaheim. She’d only been ten and it had been a real family trip, one of the few with both her mother and father.

Lacey shifted in her seat and tucked one of her legs beneath her. “Er, London? Like, um, London, Minnesota or something?”

“Piss off,” Meggie snapped. “London, England. Great Britain. The UK. Excuse me, I mean the United Kingdom. I forgot people with narrow, little minds like yours wouldn’t understand the abbreviation.”

Lacey’s eyes widened, her mouth covered in black lipstick forming an ‘o’. “Scary, wrong-side-of-the-law, biker dude is taking you to Europe?”

“Let’s see the negligees again,” Farrah rushed out when Meggie growled.

“Let me get something straight,” she snarled. “Don’t talk about my man and don’t talk about my son and I won’t bitch slap either of you. I might be an old married lady, but I’m still me.”

Lacey sighed. “I know what that means. You’re about to turn into a raving bitch” She made the motion of zipping her lips. “So
zip
and onto the next subject.”

“I don’t remember you caring about my ravings when I was defending you,” Meggie bit out.

Lacey looked away and the three of them fell into silence while Meggie handed the saleswoman the two negligees in her lap before asking her to show her the last two she’d chosen for a closer inspection while she decided if she’d purchase the sexy nightclothes.

              “I think I’m ready to eat,” Farrah groaned, once the sales lady handed Meggie the negligees. Her head lulled back again. “I feel like I’m going to puke at any moment and I think food will soak up some of the alcohol.”

              “Or make you puke faster,” Meggie added. “Drink a lot of water. That’ll help.”

              “As if you’ve ever been drunk,” Lacey chirped, folding her arms. “You have to get sloshed once in your life. It’s like a rite of passage. But you’re too busy dropping babies and planning weddings to live like a normal college age girl.”

              “Lacey, I’m like two point five seconds from knocking you on your ass,” Meggie warned, jumping to her feet.

              “Ooooo, please, the arguing is hurting my head worse,” Farrah moaned.

              “You’re such a lightweight.” Lacey rolled her eyes while Meggie reseated herself. “I’m sorry and ignore, slut puppy, Megster. She didn’t sleep at all last night.”

              “I didn’t either since Christopher surprised me and kept me awake,” Meggie announced, heat flushing her skin. Maybe, the argument, sleep deprivation and too many orgasms had taken away her brain-to-mouth filter.

              Lacey squealed in approval. “Shut. Up. You mean you’re our new slut puppy?”

Meggie knew her friend would warm up at the news. In school, Meggie had been the odd girl out when Lacey and Farrah discussed their sexcapades.

              If they knew all the things she and Christopher did in bed—or wherever—they’d
definitely
crown her with the Slut Puppy of the Year Award. She held the negligees higher, covering the extra heat creeping into her face.

              “I say take both,” a voice announced.

              Meggie’s arms went slack and her gaze met Cee Cee’s green one. The light bounced off his tattooed head and he gripped the bag indicating he’d made a purchase from this store.

              “Who the fuck are you?” Lacey asked, narrowing her hazel eyes.

              “Someone who wants to go to jail,” Meggie snapped. “You’re following me.”

              He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

              She turned toward the saleswoman who’d stepped up with a disapproving frown. “Is there a problem?”

              “What the fuck you gonna do if there is?” he asked, folding his arms. “Free country. I’m not harming anybody.”

              Her heart was pounding and she was glad Dinah was at Lacey’s mother’s house with CJ. If Lacey’s mom wasn’t with them, Meggie doubted she would’ve left CJ, leaving her at a bigger disadvantage facing this man if she had to worry about her son’s well-being.

“Am I right, Meggie?” he continued.

“Stalking is a crime,” Meggie gritted. “So is harassing.”

He hooted with laughter. “We just happen to be showing up in the same places.”

“Sir, please, if you’ve completed your purchase—“

He stared at Meggie for long moment, a range of emotions rushing over his features. If she studied him too long, she pictured Christopher resembling him as he grew old—

The thought crashed to a halt and she gasped.

He sniffed and a half smile twisted his mouth. “Always heard you were a smart little thing.” He winked at her. “I can see you already got the connection."

She reached out blindly and grabbed someone’s hand—Lacey’s, Farrah’s, the sale woman’s. She didn’t know and she didn’t care.

Dizzy, she watched as Cee Cee pulled everything she’d chosen, tainted all her pretty panties and bras with his touch. He threw them at her. “Welcome to the family, baby. Tell my son it isn’t nice not to share his good fortune with his old man and the new president of one of his local support clubs.”

He glared at her a moment longer before he turned and sauntered away.