Christopher
Heaven laid between Megan’s thighs. Likely, it was the closest he’d ever fucking get to the Pearly Gates. Not that he was complaining, as the sweetness of his wife’s pussy was better than anything the afterlife could offer.
Cuddling under the stars quickly turned into another fuck session. He couldn’t resist tasting her, and he adored having her on his face. It led to their current predicament. Megan on his tongue, tugging at his hair as he lapped at her juicy cunt.
“Right there,” she moaned, her hips trembling against his face.
Lavishing her clit with attention, he sucked the swollen bud between his lips.
Instinctively, she tried to jerk away from his hungry mouth, but he gripped her thighs, keeping her firmly in place.
He couldn’t fucking let her run, though.
She tasted too good, sounded too perfect for him to allow that.
Switching tactics, he speared his tongue inside her, her squeal delighting him, urging him to roll his tongue around, collecting her juices, before withdrawing and eating back to her bundle of nerves. He sucked, licked, and lightly nibbled, determined to bring his wife ecstasy.
“Christopher!” Megan screamed, the explosion of her pussy feeding him, nourishing him like manna from Heaven.
Too addicted to her taste to let her go, he continued tonguing her, and she whined, shuddered, tugged at his hair. He could eat her sweet cunt for hours, until his tongue was numb and jaw was aching.
“Christopher,” she breathed, squirming on his mouth. “Want you inside me. Need your cock.”
He growled at her panting, senseless plea. Unable to deny Megan anyfuckingthing, he pulled away.
“Take it, baby,” he said, slightly breathless from drowning between her legs. “It’s all fucking yours.”
Lifting her with ease, he guided her to his hard cock and set her down.
She squatted over him. Fingers closing around his prick, she dragged it along her slit before she sank down.
They moaned. It didn’t matter that they’d just fucked.
Any time away from Megan’s pussy was too fucking long.
If he had it his way, he’d live inside the motherfucker, never separating from her.
Placing her hands on his chest, she began to bounce, fucking herself on his cock.
He let her set the pace, content to watch her tits jiggle and her hair wiggle as she rode him.
Her pale skin was flushed a pretty pink, her pussy bush soaked with her juices, her nipples hard from the cool night’s air.
Megan was always a vision, but doubly so when they were making love.
She threw her head back, blonde hair cascading down her back, nails raking down his chest as she sped up.
“Christopher,” she moaned, her voice breathy and wanton.
“I’m right fucking here, baby,” he replied, thrusting upwards to meet her motions.
Skin slapped against skin, echoing in the night. Their blanket rumpled from their movements, and grass tickled patches of Christopher’s back and thighs.
“Christopher!” Megan cried again.
Her pussy walls clamped around him and he groaned. He wouldn’t last much longer. Wanting to feel her cream around his cock, he brought a hand to her clit and caressed her tender flesh.
She groaned.
“Oooooo,” he mimicked. “Yeah, baby. Come on my dick.”
Her pussy slickened, tightened, expanded, her eyes rolling back in her head and she screamed as she flooded his cock and balls.
He roared, pleasure racing down his spine as cum jetted from his. She collapsed against him, their pants mingling. Basking in the afterglow, he wrapped his arms around her, still inside his wife, unwilling to part with her wet warmth.
Long minutes later, she lifted up and kissed him, then slid next to him. Immediately, he pulled her into the crook of his arms.
Around them, the southern slopes of the Gifford Pinchot National Forest opened into a vast, rugged theater.
There are no campground loops, no numbered posts, and no neighbors—just a sprawling, primitive pull-off carved into the gravel and volcanic soil off Forest Road 83.
To their backs, the dark, sweeping silhouette of Mount St. Helens blocked out a fraction of the horizon, a silent giant watching over the wilderness.
The night air carried a biting chill that smelled of melted snow and wet cedar. Camped completely out in the open, away from the dense canopy of the lower valleys, the sky felt infinite.
He kissed the top of her head. “We need to get the sleeping bag and thermals.”
“The sweat is chilling me,” she admitted.
His contentment fled and he eased his arm from underneath her head. Sitting up, he snatched his T-shirt and held it out to Megan.
“Put this on,” he ordered.
Once she complied, he helped her to her feet and handed her his phone. She turned on the flashlight, illuminating the way to his bike, where he got the rolled sleeping bag from one saddlebag and a pair of thermals for each of them from the other.
They dressed next to his bike, then he guided her back to their campsite. She sat on the blanket, in charge of the flashlight until the match he lit sparked a flame that caught the nest of dry kindling he’d set up when they first arrived.
Settled into the sleeping bag, entwined in each other’s arms, Christopher thought about Lance Hart’s deal, which Megan knew nothing about.
Crackling wood broke the mountain stillness, a simple, perfect escape from the rest of the world. Except the outside was always there, waiting to intrude and pounce. This time, he’d been the motherfucker to open that door. He sighed.
“What, Christopher?”
“I got something to tell you, Megan,” he admitted, turning on his side and wishing there was more light so he could stare into her eyes.
She faced him and pressed a kiss to his chest. “I’m listening, my love.”
“I closed on a big deal with a motherfucker named Lance Hart.”
“Lance Hart? The tech—”
“Yeah. That crooked fuckhead.”
“Er, umkay.” He could almost feel her frown. “Isn’t he on the other side of the…uh, isn’t he a civilian?” she amended.
“Fuck no. Ain’t you heard me? He pretends to be law-abiding and philanthropic. He’s an arms dealer.”
“He wants you to run guns?”
Judging by the horror in her words, she was remembering how badly it had gone the last time he’d had a deal that seemed quite profitable on paper. Val had been in charge then, too.
“Not only that. He wants me to be the front man. Deal them, too. Drugs involved as well.”
“Oh.”
He hated how small her voice had gotten, and he hadn’t even told her the worst part.
“It was a deal for Bash. I took it.”
Silence met that announcement and she shivered, ducking her head underneath his chin and clinging to him.
“You stole it?” she said finally.
“Yeah, baby,” he said, unable to hide from her. “But I got my reasons. For Val. For us. The club.”
“Tell me.”
She didn’t adjust her body as he explained he justified his actions and detailed his intentions to include Bash in the profits.
“Mort right, though,” he finished, telling her about that conversation, too. “I’m riskin’ you and I’m bein’ a hypocritical motherfucker. I forced Diesel into that deal with that cunt instead of standin’ up for our kid.”
Lifting herself up, Megan pressed her fingers over his lips, the glow of the campfire casting her beloved face into shadows.
“Stop it, Christopher. Do I wish you would’ve found a way not to include a personal caveat in Bash’s deal? I do. We both know how Diesel despised Tabitha and regretted marrying her. It wasn’t fair to him.”
Christopher wilted inside and his entire body drooped.
“Don’t beat yourself up.” Disentangling herself from his arms, she sat up.
“Your hands were tied. They threatened to vote you out. You had to do whatever to retain your position and save your life.” She drew her knees up and laid her cheek on them.
“My God…I just hate…maybe, you would’ve survived or maybe not.
What about Diesel and CJ? What about Mortician, Digger, Val, and Stretch, loyal to you?
Torrin, Potter, Narci, Bishop…? Your loyalists make up half the club. Not everyone would’ve come out alive.”
“No,” he croaked, thinking of her, and how they’d begun to disrespect her. Rebel, on the cusp of womanhood, and drawing a new type of attention. Jo, just a helpless baby, but his. “Axel, Ransom, Ryder, Rule…”
“All in danger,” she acknowledged. “Rebel, Jo, and me—at risk. So, as much as I wish our son wasn’t part of that plea agreement, you did what you had to do.”
“I could’ve had Kendall talk to Bash about Lance Hart—”
“Do you really think he would’ve ceded control to you?”
“No, but I’m riskin’ you for fuckin’ money, Megan. Cuz my ego fuckin’ ass hurt.”
“You put your heart and soul into the club. Johnnie and his idiots didn’t care.
They brushed aside your years of service and sacrifice to follow that genius.
In one evening, they devalued the essence of you, Outlaw, the face of the Death Dwellers.
The man who gave the club meaning and purpose. Their disrespect deserved an answer.”
“Death,” he said flatly.
“No, not now. Not until you regain the majority’s support. It’s still too risky for you and our boys.”
“And you and our girls.”
Megan stretched out next to him again and pressed her lips to his. “I know the owner of the club hasn’t been discovered, Christopher. I never agreed with the peace agreement.”
“I hated it too, though Kendall did an ace fuckin’ job on that.”
“She did, and she should be commended for how she handled the deal.”
“It still chafes my fuckin’ nuts.”
Megan giggled.
“But, I gotta admit, when Bash sober, he not an altogether bad motherfucker. I still could fuckin’ chop and box him for what he do to chicks.”
“Bash seems to want to do right, but Cleaner and Tio are loose cannons. They have a lot of influence over him. That worries me. Money talks, though. Get ahead of the situation. Invite Bash to Hortensia. Give him a cut and explain what’s going on.
Tell him before Johnnie and his Merry Band of Imbeciles find out. ”
“When we get back to Hortensia, I’ll set the meetin’ up,” he promised, a load lifted off him. “Talk to Kendall—”
“If she’s back. I hope she returns to the club, but she’s devastated by what happened. She thinks she betrayed Johnnie.”
“Cuz she a good bitch. Johnnie too fuckin’ clueless to realize how fuckin’ lucky he is.”
“She’s dealing with so much right now. Why don’t you fill her in without any pressure? Maybe have Diesel iron out the deal.”
“Diesel and Bash like oil and fuckin’ water.”
“He learned from Kendall. He has unruly clients. He should be able to put aside his dislike to do this. He’ll do it for you.”
She sounded so certain, Christopher didn’t want to burst her bubble. Under normal circumstances, Diesel could do it for Christopher. Bash wasn’t a normal motherfucker, though, and neither was Diesel.
“However you handle it, I trust you,” Megan continued. “As long as there are lingering questions, my life is in danger.”
“Megan—”
“As for your new town, McKay…I’m not sure.
We bought an entire school. We have a lot of police officers, firefighters, and city council members, in our pocket.
We have an entire wing at the hospital. We have our own little enclave on club grounds.
Will our family move with us? Will you get pushback from the club members? There’s a lot to consider.”
“We outgrowin’ Hortensia.”
“Not really, love. You just have to appreciate the growth and have a little self-control in public.”
“It ain’t only me. What about Diesel? If Nivins hadn’t gotten there in time, hadn’t called me, what then? Our boy…”
“Would’ve been arrested or killed by Bash. I’m aware, Christopher. That happened in Portland, not Hortensia. Unless you bar the kids…the family compound,” she guessed. “That’s one of the reasons you want them to live at home.”
“Yeah, baby. The other reason is cuz of you.”
“Christopher, we’re about to spend a fantastic amount of money enlarging an already huge home. Why waste that money if you want to move us somewhere else?”
“I just want everything safe for you. I can build a hospital and bring Rule home.”
“Does Rule even want to come back? He’s been through enough. Do not force him back into the fold until he’s ready.”
“Val was a lil’ fuckin’ outraged over my proposal, too,” Christopher admitted sourly. “He said it’ll devastate Bitsy.”
“It would. And the kids. And you. You love our home.”
He did, and so did she. “Ima just monitor shit.”
“I trust you to do what’s best.”
She’d stand by him as always, just as she’d promised him earlier.
She slid into the crook of his arm. “Now, I have to talk to you.”
Her plaintive note alerted Christopher that she wanted to discuss a subject even less likeable than this one. “Lemme fuckin’ guess. Diesel. And Rebel,” he added with distaste.
“Maybe,” she said with a little sniff.
Releasing her, he shot into a sitting position and jumped to his feet. “Whatever the fuck you thinkin’, erase it from your motherfuckin’ mind.”
“Rebel brought up a very good point,” Megan said, a hardheaded little motherfucker created to drive him insane. “He’s her brother. We have to treat him that way, so they’ll see each other as brother and sister. She wants him to be able to visit her in her room.”
“You and her outta your motherfuckin’ minds,” he snarled, his raised voice echoing in the silence. “A bed right there. A sofa. A fuckin’ floor!”
“He can visit her as he once did, but keep the door open,” Megan said calmly.
“I got a cock. I know what motherfuckers with these motherfuckers do and think, so fuck you and her. My answer’s fuck no.”
“We have to show we trust them and give them some leeway.”
“To hang their fuckin’ selves? No. Fuck you. Fuck no.”
Sitting up, she raised the edge of the sleeping bag. “I’m cold without you next to me.”
He scowled, but stomped back to her, dropped down, and jerked her into his arms. One arm behind his head, he glowered at the night sky.
“One day that motherfucker havin’ a daughter and she’s gonna drive him fuckin’ insane with worry over some old motherfucker sniffin’ behind her.
Ima laugh in his fuckin’ old wrinkled face. ”
“Rebel has been through so much—”
Fuck it all, he was about to burst a fucking blood vessel, then Megan would be stranded with his cold, dead corpse. “Ain’t givin’ a good fuck what Rebel been through. This ain’t the fuckin’ way to help her.”
“Can you just think about it? They are moving downstairs next week. Even better for us. We’ll be able to monitor them better.”
Rebel’s return to school in a few days would also help. And, even if Diesel wasn’t involved in the legalities of the deal with Hart, he’d be a part of Torrin and Val’s team.
Megan yawned, and Christopher drew in a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. They’d taken time away to celebrate each other, not dwell on the same motherfucking problems that would be waiting when they returned to Hortensia.