CONTAINS SPOILERS PERTAINING TO PREVIOUS BOOKS IN THE SERIES.
Chapter One: More
Christopher “Outlaw” Caldwell felt like pulling out his nine and shooting the fuck out of himself. The breeze blew through his hair while, behind him, the setting sun sank beneath the horizon, heralding in the first glimpse of nighttime. All around him, ridiculous fucking music—annoying like a motherfucker—and the voices of gleeful kids, excited babies, and overwhelmed parents kept him alert.
He wanted to motherfucking leave this bullshit amusement park, the last fucking place in the world he wanted to fucking be.
“Christopher!” Megan called, her tone filled with beautiful, fucking happiness, a sound he hadn’t heard from his wife in fucking weeks. Her carefree joy almost made this fucking torture worthwhile.
For this bullshit, Megan would have to…
She already did what he asked of her, so spending the evening at an amusement park racing her in stupid fucking go-carts, feeling fucking ridiculous on the Ferris wheel, wanting to slap the fuck out of two dickheads screaming like pussified girls on the rollercoaster, and fucking with arcade games, shouldn’t have been such a pain in the fucking balls. He’d had enough miniature golf and bumper cars to last a fucking lifetime. And the fucking shame of the goddamn carousel.
The carou-fucking-sel. He’d sat in one of the carriages with Megan snuggled close to him, her eyes bright and sparkling.
They’d already been there for three fucking hours and he was considering having this motherfucker blown to bits and fucking pieces so Megan would never, fucking ever-ever-ever, get it in her head for them to have a motherfucking date here again.
Every-fucking time, they ended up back at these motherfuckers. The go-carts. After the third fucking time stuffed into those small fuckers, he wised the fuck up and let Megan win. It became fucking clear to Christopher she wouldn’t move on until she beat him.
Climbing out of the cramped space and squelching the urge to kick the fuck out of the go-cart, he rolled his shoulders, moving off the platform and onto the solid ground, needing a fucking cigarette as much as he needed a fucking drink. Motherfuckers didn’t even fucking have the decency to sell fucking beer.
“I win!” Megan squealed, reaching him, jumping into his arms and kissing his face. He settled his hands on her ass. His dick jumped at the feel of her. “I told you I could beat you.”
Not answering, he sat her on her feet and dragged her toward the adjoining park. The deeper he pulled her into the dark and silent stands of trees, the tighter her fingers clutched his hand. Once he decided they were far enough away from everybody, he stopped and drew her into his arms, kissing her deeply. She tasted so fucking sweet, like the Dots candy she’d eaten a little while ago. He tongued her lips, wishing it was her pussy instead.
“Can we fuckin’ go now?” he asked, groaning when she wrapped her legs around his waist and rocked against him.
Her arms settled around his neck. One arm around her body, he cradled the back of her head with his other hand. As relaxed as her body felt against him, he knew she was genuinely enjoying herself. It had been days since she felt so pliant. Three fucking days to be exact. Ever since his fucking MC had been raided by law enforcement and she and his sister, Zoann, were there without him.
Working to put the club back together had been nonstop. Many of the walls had been destroyed, furniture—mattresses, sofas, chairs—ripped apart, clothes thrown aside. Some, like his, had even been shredded. After all the other bullshit that went on the past weeks, Christopher decided Megan needed a break. Over breakfast, he’d asked if going out for an evening would get her mind off every-fucking-thing. Just to take a fucking break, all of them had gone their separate fucking ways to wind down. She’d wanted to bring his boy with them, but he decided she’d needed a break from CJ, too.
Arrow, Bowlie, and Cowboy had stayed on premises to keep watch and listen out for Dinah. Johnnie had done a turnaround, just staying in Hawaii long enough to visit his bitch, and then hop the fuck back on the plane after Christopher told him what the fuck went down. Although he wouldn’t have put it past Johnnie to weasel his fucking way to wherever Megan chose, Christopher hadn’t had to punch Johnnie for making any such underhanded moves. He was with Val, Zoann, Mortician, Stretch and Ghost at a biker rally.
Christopher would’ve fucked John Boy up, too, cuz he was still harboring fucking resentment about the ‘I’m human’ comment the assfuck had made about Megan.
Christopher was fucking human, too, and there was only so much fucking bullshit he’d take from Johnnie. He already tolerated that fucking cunt on his behalf. He wasn’t about to put up with the fuckhead still pining for his wife, too.
Even if Christopher ended at stupid fucking amusement parks with Megan.
Fuck him, when he’d suggested this, he’d been thinking mainly of Megan, but he’d never fucking expected her to suggest a fucking amusement park and arcade.
He touched his forehead to hers, just able to make out her golden hair and skin in the darkness. She pressed a kiss on the bridge between his neck and shoulder, hardening his cock all the more.
“I want some pussy, Megan,” he growled, caressing her denim-covered ass, the jeans she wore tantamount to a chastity belt and frustrating the motherfuck out of him.
She rolled her pussy against him and nipped his chin, the feel of her teeth driving him fucking insane. He sucked the delicate skin of her neck.
“Wanna get anything from me?”
“Yeah,” she breathed on a groan. “I want some dick from you, Christopher.”
Her saucy response pulled laughter from him as he set her on her feet and got to work on her jeans. Once he got them down around her knees, he turned her and urged her to bend over with a hand over her back. He dipped his finger into her pussy, thumbing her clit. The moment he made her come, he took out his dick and buried it inside of her tender warmth, his grunt drowning out her sigh. Gripping her hips, he pumped into her, caught in the grip of her sweet pussy.
Cum already bubbled up, so Christopher knew he wouldn’t last long. He fingered her clit and she moaned, pushing into one of his thrusts.
“Let your pussy come for me, Megan,” he encouraged, fisting one hand in her silky hair.
A moment later, she shuddered against him, releasing a soft cry. At the sound of her release, he stiffened and trembled, cum shooting from him.
Slowly, the sounds of night returned to him. Katydids, crickets, bullfrogs. In the distance, sounds from the amusement park, faint music, voices, vehicles.
Breathing hard, he freed Megan, slowly removing his dick out of her and stuffing it back in his jeans. Once he put himself to rights, he helped her repair her own clothes, smoothing her hair, jeans, and T-shirt, guided by instinct rather than sight. Properly clothed again, Megan snaked her arms around him and he kissed the top of her head. Fucking her had released the tension of the trauma caused by how he’d spent his evening.
“Can we fuckin’ go now, baby?” It was her deal, so he wouldn’t mention the biker rally. That’s where he wanted to be.
“What do you want to do now?”
Her whisper in her just-fucked voice caressed his senses. He brought his fingers, coated with her pussy juice, to his nose and inhaled, the scent of her cunt hardening his dick again. “What the fuck you think?”
Megan giggled, a nineteen-year-old having fun and making out with her lover in some forbidden place. In that moment, she didn’t sound like who she was—his wife—the old lady of a motherfucker like him and mother of their son. “Not that,” she chastised.
“Give me pussy and your beautiful fuckin’ smile and I’m a happy motherfucker, so this night for you.” She’d already given him both, so he was fucking delirious with joy.
For tonight, their problems were lost in the noise and lights of their surroundings. Tomorrow, would bring in more work. More problems. More of Megan wanting another baby. Just fucking more.
She hadn’t spoken about it in four days, since the night of his ill-planned party where he’d tried to shut her out. But he knew her.
He. Knew. Her.
His heart plummeted at what he intended without her knowledge. A vasectomy he hadn’t ever discussed with her.
The appointment was wrong like a motherfucker. They kept everything out in the open between them and never lied to each other. That was the reason they worked so fucking well. But he’d prefer to pretend to be trying for another baby and know that would never happen then to see the sadness in her eyes over not only their lost son, but the baby she mightn’t ever get to have.
Maybe, he was setting her up for another heartbreak. And, maybe, he’d found the key to help ease her hurt a little more.
This entire fucking shit exhausted the fuck out of him. He fucking preferred fucking fights and gun battles to what he’d gone through over the last few months. To what he’d helplessly watched his girl go through.
Guilt rushed Christopher and he sighed. “What do you want to do?” he asked her again, loving the fuck out of her even if he could do without the emotion it took to have her and love her.
Silence. Christopher hoped like fuck her silence meant she wanted to give him more pussy. He tucked strands of golden hair behind her ear.
This night was for him and Megan minus the fuckups. Vasectomies, dead babies, and human motherfuckers wouldn’t intrude. Taking her hand, he guided her back to the amusement park and headed to the parking area. At his Harley, he seated himself and she climbed behind him. For once, he’d allowed her to go without a helmet, understanding her need to feel the wind in her hair and the air kissing her face. The open road invigorated him and made him feel alive. Free.
Megan needed the same thing. Glancing over his shoulder, the sight of her swollen lips and flushed cheeks satisfied him. He lifted a brow, her love for him so stark in her eyes his chest hurt. Another burst of guilt at his scheduled vasectomy. Megan fucking trusted him. Could he really…?
Who the fuck was he kidding? He’d manipulate the fuck out of any situation to keep Megan safe and happy. No, he’d manipulate shit to keep Megan. Period.
“So whatcha wanna do, baby?” he asked gruffly.
“Take me to a hangout you would’ve gone to before we met,” Megan said softly, her smile blinding him, her expression unreadable.
A hangout before they met would’ve consisted of bars, strip clubs, and other clubhouses. Nothing he wanted her around. “Megan—“
The word pierced his resistance as much as the feel of her arms around his waist and her cheek on his middle rocker.
Fuck, still not what he wanted to hear. She’d fucking offered him to go where the fuck he wanted and, like a dickhead, he’d insisted she choose. How the fuck was their fucking thinking getting so the fuck far apart from one another?
Sighing, Christopher nodded, wondering if those fucking go-carts had fucked up his brain. No, his fucked up clubhouse was fucking up his brain at the moment. The brothers discovering he’d gone to a fucking amusement park like a fucking thirteen-year-old. Fuck, even when he’d been thirteen, he hadn’t done this ridiculous bullshit.
Now, Megan wanted to go to one of the places he’d gone to drink, fuck, fight, or make deals.
“What kinda places you like to hang out at? Let’s go somewhere like that.”
Tension settled into her body and seeped into his.
“Well,” she began in a small voice, “I’ve never gone to a nightclub or anything. I-I’ve gone to bars with you, but I never had before. I’m not even legal to drink.” The last, she finished on a mumble.
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