Page 199 of Remiss

“I postponed it,” she said softly. “It’s my body, but we’re a team and you and I have made decisions like this together.”

As much as he scorned her because she refused to set a date for her hysterectomy, Christopher felt so relieved by her decision that he couldn’t help his happy laughter. More than that, her words made him truly feel that they were back on track. Partners. A team.

Lovers.

He covered her mouth with his again. The kiss heated up within seconds, and he tasted the remnants of his cum. Growling into her mouth, he stood. She instinctively wrapped her legs around him, clinging to his body as he carried her to the bed. He wanted to motherfucking worship her gorgeous body, and a cramped space was no place to fucking do that.

He took care setting her in the center of the bed. Never would he make the goddamn mistake of fucking throwing Megan as he did the night of his outburst. Roxy had been right to beat him. He only wished Megan had chosen to whoop his motherfucking ass, instead of making him languish alone for nearly a week.

He tore off her lacy panties and hiked up her dress, pausing at her gasp.

“Those were my favorite pair,” she complained without much heat, spreading her legs to give him more access.

“I’ll buy you ten of those motherfuckers,” he swore, before spreading her lower lips to access her clit, before sealing his mouth around it.

His cock twitched with interest at Megan’s sexy moans. She reached for him, and he laced his fingers with hers, wanting to feel as much of her as possible. He gently nibbled on her clit, the sensation making her squirm.

“Don’t stop,” she breathed, pulling her dress down to play with the cherry red tips of her tits. “Christopher.”

The way she whined his name made her groan, and he pulled back ever so slightly to speak. “I’m right here, and I’m not going any motherfuckin’ where.”

He blew over her dripping core, smirking when she whimpered, before he dove back in. He licked along her slit, sampling her flavor. Releasing her hand, he guided one of her toned legs over his shoulder to have more access to her perfect fucking pussy. He speared his tongue inside her, withdrew, then repeated, fucking her with the pink appendage. Her hips bucked against his face; he chuckled at her neediness.

“Christopher!” Megan cried out as she came, her body shaking so beautifully.

Her sweet pussy juice flowed into his mouth. He swallowed down every drop, lapping lazily at her slit until her body stilled.

“You so fuckin’ perfect, Megan,” he praised, capturing her lips.

She parted her lips to grant his tongue access. As he eagerly accepted her invitation, he nudged her leg apart with a knee. Once his hips could settle between her legs, he guided his cock toher entrance and surged forward. They separated, their moans filling the air.

“Faster, Christopher,” she begged, her pussy squeezing rhythmically, gripping his cock so perfectly.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, canting her hips upwards to meet his thrusts

“Wicked little bitch,” he grunted, rolling his hips with more force.

“Big bad biker,” she cooed, continuing to thumb her nipples.

His balls drew taut as another orgasm built. He wanted them to come together, so he wiggled a hand between their sweaty bodies to rub her swollen clit.

When he pinched the throbbing bud, Megan came with a scream, her back arching off the bed and her nails digging into his shoulders. The convulsions of her tight pussy caused Christopher to come undone, filling her cunt. He rutted into her mindlessly, groaning in bliss.

Only once his cock was spent did he still, resting his forehead against Megan’s.

“I love you so fuckin’ much, baby,” he whispered, brushing his lips over hers.

“I love you too, Christopher.”

With a parting kiss, he pulled out and rolled off her small frame, gathering her into his arms. After days of coming apart at the seams, his Megan was back, and he finally felt whole again.

Following Diesel into the clubhouse, CJ expected to find the same old shit—Dad moping at the table, Fia and crew flitting around, afraid of their own fucking shadows, Uncle Mort…

He wasn’t sure. Mattie and Grant called CJ late last night and told him Uncle Mort wouldn’t be able to handle the news about Harley right now because Aunt Bailey was still spiraling. Mattie thought it was best just to monitor the situation and not speak up until they had absolute proof. She didn’t think it was good to light a match to the powder keg without knowing the realreason Harley was acting so strange.

Grant himself acted strange, deflecting answers to CJ and Mattie’s questions during their three-way call. Pop had been there the entire time, so he’d know the full story. Grant pretended ignorance, though CJ suspected he knew it all.

It didn’t matter. He didn’t ever have to open his fucking mouth. CJ’s plate was already overflowing. Whatever other fuckery was going on, they could fucking keep to themselves.