Misfit(14)
Deciding to hold his fucking opinion to himself about that bitch, he nodded. Towel wrapped around herself, she started to lift his T-shirt over his head, her fingers skimming over each spot she bared.
Christopher shivered. “Fuck, baby, stop!” he demanded, his cock still hard from when he’d eaten her pussy. He caught her fingers. “You start fuckin’ with me again and you ain’t ever gettin’ to the bitch. I mean the brunch.”
Pulling away, she rolled her eyes. “Behave.”
“What the fuck I’m doin’?”
She poked him in the chest. “Hello? Kendall.”
“I’m just fuckin’ sayin’,” he grunted.
After lifting Johnnie’s suspension over the holiday season, Christopher hadn’t said one fucking word to his bitch. She wasn’t going anywhere. Christopher had resigned himself to the fact that the fucking club was stuck with her. Johnnie loved her. How-fucking-ever. If Christopher didn’t talk to her, she might leave some of her fucking crazy behind and stop trying to get him to talk her.
Bitch still did little shit to annoy the fuck out of him and get his attention. Installing Fee in Kendall’s house would keep him clued the fuck in about what that bitch intended. He’d promised to pay for Fee’s college degree, wherever she decided to go. Whenever she decided to go. Also, Kendall had a way of befriending motherfuckers and convincing them of her sanity. Christopher had warned Fee not to trust her, but Kendall cavorted with black magic and got into people’s heads, leading them to believe whatever the fuck she said. He fucking hoped Fee heeded his warning.
Neither Megan or Kendall knew of Fee’s fucking spying, so he’d play this carefully. He didn’t give a fuck what Kendall would think. But Megan? Yeah, she’d be fucking pissed.
He bent and kissed her again, frowning at the tension in her body. She’d been a relaxed little motherfucker before he brought up Johnnie’s bitch.
“You sure you okay, baby? I mean you don’t have to see that fuckin’ cunt today if you don’t want.” Megan had come home last week fucking furious. Something went the fuck on at that house. Something Fee hadn’t fucking told him, and still swore up and fucking down everything was a-fucking-okay. “I can stay the fuck home, too. We can fuck some more.”
Pursing her mouth, Megan lowered her lashes, then gave him a fake smile. “Everything’s fine, Christopher.”
Bull-fucking-shit. He knew her too well to believe that. His sole consolation was Megan no longer gave that bitch a pass for fuck-all. Supposedly back on her fucking meds again, Kendall had no fucking excuse if she pulled fucking crazy shit.
Making sure she stayed drugged was Christopher’s main reason for encouraging Fee to work for Kendall, achieved by blurting out Megan intended to offer Fee a job position with her and Zoann. Kendall might’ve been better, but she remained a jealous psycho cunt, proven when Fee came to them a couple of days later and announced Kendall asked Fee to work for her.
Megan had been disappointed. Christopher doubted she suspected why Kendall really offered the job. It had nothing to do with not having an assistant like she’d had at the law firm, as she fucking said.
She wanted to play her fucking games? Christopher was more than ready and equipped to match her move for move. Whatever it took to protect Megan, he’d do. He better not fucking regret installing Fee in the lion’s den.
Taking Megan’s face between his hands, he bent and kissed her again. “Wanna suck my cock real quick, baby?”
She stood on her tiptoes and nipped his chin. “Yeah.”
Just as she started to sink to her knees, the door opened, and CJ barreled in. Megan squeaked, nearly losing her balance and her fucking towel as she tried to stand straight. Christopher grabbed her waist, torn between amusement at the situation and irritation at the situation.
“’Law!” CJ skidded to a halt, blinking between the two of them. His little face scrunched. “Mommie okay?”
She busied herself with her towel, refusing to meet their boy’s eyes, her face, chest, and shoulders, beet-fucking-red. “Fine,” she mumbled.
Squinting, CJ checked her, her shifting from foot-to-foot, not helping. He raised an accusing glare to Christopher. “Step away from the mommie, ‘Law,” he demanded, the phrase he’d made up both funny and mystifying.
“I’m fine, CJ,” Megan swore.
CJ ignored her, not giving a fuck about her reassurance. He glanced up-and-down at Christopher, and frowned. What his boy thought, with him dripping fucking wet, who the fuck knew?
“My mommie, ‘Law.”