"Nope. She ain't f.u.c.kin' Iona."

"No, she isn't," Johnnie said evenly, the only indication Christopher hit a nerve.

"She deserves better than me. She should have this." He made an elaborate arc to indicate the room, the house.

"This is your f.u.c.king house. She has you, she has this."

"You know what the f.u.c.k I mean. She should have this and the type of man..." He sighed. "I wonder if she turns beet f.u.c.kin' red when she looks at you because you such a preppy lookin' motherf.u.c.ker. So clean-cut and s.h.i.t."

Johnnie's wide smile told Christopher the f.u.c.khead knew how Megan looked at him. He had the good sense not to comment, though.

He shrugged, instead. "My look goes with the territory. Remember, I'm the manager/owner of a lab company. I can't walk the f.u.c.k around in my leather."

"I don't have nothin' I'm good at, John Boy. Nothin' legitimate, I mean."

"If she means that much to you, you need to make sure the feelings are reciprocated. For what it's worth, I think they are. Which leads me to ask you: would she allow you to do it? Would she recognize what you're willing to give up for her?"

"Havin' a man is new to her."

"Having an old lady is new to you."

"She wants to be my girlfriend."

"I'm sure. It's those subtle nuances you have to work through. Of course, since having a man is new to her-"

"If you touch her, I'm gonna f.u.c.kin' kill you."

"You're a G.o.dd.a.m.n barbarian, a.s.shole," Johnnie grumbled, cigarette hanging from his mouth.

"What are you two doing?" Megan's sweet voice stopped the conversation and Christopher's c.o.c.k perked immediately.

She stood in the doorway, a thick robe swallowing her.

"Playin' dominoes," Christopher answered, harsher than he intended.

Johnnie winked at her. "Wanna make it a threesome, Megs?"

Megan sniffed and crossed her arms, her lips thinning into a straight line.

"I'm gonna castrate you yet, John Boy." Christopher turned to Megan and cleared his throat to interrupt the staring contest going on between her and his cousin. He'd leave in the morning, clear his head, which he couldn't do as long as she was anywhere near him. If Megan was just in his bed because she needed to survive, then she could have at Johnnie. And if she was with him because she had real feelings for him? Then he'd deal with that, too. Somehow. "Go back to sleep, Megan."

Megan swung her gaze to him. "I wasn't sleeping. I was playing a game on my new iPad, then I downloaded a few Christmas songs. Would you like to hear them?"

"f.u.c.k, Megan. I ain't in the mood to hear about some nuts roastin' over a f.u.c.kin' fireplace."

A frown creased her brow and she shifted her weight. "Do you-" she paused and licked her lips, staring into his eyes. She did that a lot when she was nervous, like she could draw courage and strength from him, just by gazing into his eyes. Christopher searched his brain to recall a time when she'd looked at Johnnie with such shy tenderness and couldn't come up with anything.

"Stay with us, Megs. A little Christmas music would liven up the early morning."

"Ignore his dumb a.s.s. What was you about to say, baby?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to come to bed," she said in a small voice, her cheeks red.

Christopher smirked at Johnnie, pleased to see his cousin's scowl. He rose to his feet, already hard for her. Her eyes danced between his face and his d.i.c.k, sparing a small glance at his chest, which reminded him he needed a new tat to cover his most recent bullet wound. Reaching her, he grabbed her neck and pulled her closer, kissing her hard. He wanted to make clear who she belonged to. To her, himself, and Johnnie.

Johnnie brushed past them. "I'm going to bed," he said, his disgust clear.

Christopher wanted to beat his cousin to the ground, but the way he saw it, Megan did as much flirting with Johnnie as he did with her. Johnnie was dangling bulls.h.i.t coupled with the idea of a few hard f.u.c.ks, baiting Megan with the words Christopher wouldn't use. It wasn't him. But, f.u.c.k, didn't girls need a few d.i.c.ks in them to know how good the d.i.c.k they ended up with was?

He'd trust Johnnie with her. They'd shared girls forever. Why not let Megan test Johnnie's d.i.c.k, just so she could compare? He'd even be nice enough to have enough of Johnnie's body left over to have a proper burial once Christopher f.u.c.ked him up for f.u.c.king Megan.

He listened for Johnnie closing the door to the guestroom, right down the hall. His cousin liked that one because the waves were louder on that side.

Christopher untied the belt at Megan's waist and slid the robe off her shoulders, revealing one of the short nighties he'd purchased for her. He lifted her off her feet and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Not here," Megan breathed, already kissing his jaw. "Someone might catch us."

Ignoring her, Christopher shut her up with another kiss and pulled his c.o.c.k out of his pajama bottoms, guiding it to her burning p.u.s.s.y. He slid into her and grunted in satisfaction. She felt so f.u.c.king good, her fingers clutching his shoulders, her body wet and tight around him. He slammed into her, angry at his weakness for her. He thrust into her, his strokes bordering on vicious. She whimpered.

"You like Johnnie, yeah?" A pound into her body stressed each word.

"Christopher-"

"Shut the f.u.c.k up, you little hypocrite. b.i.t.c.hin' cuz I was f.u.c.kin' Kiera all the while dreamin' of f.u.c.kin' Johnnie."

"I would never sleep with him," she swore on a gasp. "I love you."

If only those words were the truth, but he knew better. "You f.u.c.kin' liar. How the f.u.c.k you know you love me? Girls need more than one d.i.c.k to know the difference between love and l.u.s.t." He hammered into her and she sucked in a breath.

"Please. You're hurting me."

Christopher heard a growl from down the hallway, his anger intensifying at Johnnie's blatant eavesdropping, furious at Megan's inexperience and immaturity. Some wh.o.r.es were made and others were born. Megan was well on her way to being turned into one with the way she liked f.u.c.king. As long as she was his wh.o.r.e, he had no problem. That meant, only he knew how she f.u.c.ked.

"You f.u.c.kin' drive me insane, you f.u.c.kin b.i.t.c.h." Her eyes rounded at his words and he grunted. "I want to walk the f.u.c.k away but thinkin' about anybody but me in this p.u.s.s.y makes me wanna f.u.c.kin' kill."

She sucked in a ragged breath and slipped her fingers through his hair. "Shh," she soothed.

"Aww f.u.c.k." He gripped Megan's a.s.s, losing all control, pumping into her without mercy. His lips turned as bruising as his thrusts and he expanded inside of her, tasted blood on her lips when he bit her after realizing she didn't deny his claim she liked his cousin.

One final time, he buried himself inside her and filled her with his s.e.m.e.n. Their breaths heaving in and out of their mouths, he set her on her feet. Yeah, he was acting like a maniac but he couldn't seem to stop himself. It was in his genes to hurt those he loved. f.u.c.k, waiting until the morning. He was leaving tonight. He didn't need her, didn't need this f.u.c.king s.h.i.t.

Megan's fingers caressed her swollen c.l.i.t and Christopher slapped her hand away, then dropped to his knees and threw her leg over his shoulder, plastering his mouth on her heat. She'd gotten used to having her p.u.s.s.y licked after s.e.x, and now just rolled with the movements of his tongue, making those s.e.xy noises that drove him f.u.c.king insane. He suckled her c.l.i.t, bringing her over the edge, and she groaned, rocking her p.u.s.s.y against his mouth, her legs shaking with the force of her climax, her little fingers gripping his hair.

Panting against her core, Christopher kissed the top of her mound, her pubic hair tickling his lips and nose. He trailed his way up her body until he reached her lips where he pulled away and took in her features, caressing his thumb over her lip and wiping away the blood.

Christopher gave her a half-hearted smile and helped her back into her robe. "Yo', John Boy," he called, moving away from her and sticking his c.o.c.k back in his pajamas bottoms.

He had to give his cousin credit for making a production of rattling the doork.n.o.b like he was just opening it. Megan glanced at him uneasily. When Johnnie stopped in the doorway, her gaze traveled between the two of them.

Christopher looked at Johnnie. "I'm gonna head back to the club."

"Wh-what?" Megan asked. Her lips were red and swollen, her eyes dark, her voice low and s.e.xy. She looked and sounded thoroughly f.u.c.ked. "We're leaving now? It's the middle of the night. Can't we go tomorrow?"

"I didn't say s.h.i.t about we," he pointed out. "You're stayin'. I'm leavin'."

He could do without the disapproval in Johnnie's eyes. He, more than anybody, should understand the situation. Anyway, the separation would do him and Megan good. Since he'd started f.u.c.king her, they'd been glued to each other's sides. Really, since she'd arrived. Here and there, he'd put himself out of her reach, but he'd never been very far.

"Ma'll give you a real good Christmas, Megan." He waited for her to ask him to stay, tell him she wanted him to be a part of the celebrations, that she wanted him.

She lowered her lashes. "What about the Christmas tree?"

The Christmas tree he'd promised to help pick out. Jesus. He hadn't even been able to drive Megan here in his pickup to use that death wagon to store a Christmas tree. He'd thought about the hidden compartments that had transported drugs, guns-bodies. How could he use it to store a Christmas tree? Bad enough he'd taken Megan shopping in it.

"Johnnie will take you to get one."

Johnnie narrowed his eyes and thinned his lips, but remained silent.

Christopher kissed her forehead. "So, yeah, I'll see you soon. Gimme a chance to grab my things, Megan." Before she had a chance to protest, he turned on his heel and hurried toward the staircase.

Chapter 22.

Meggie listened to the rumble of Christopher's bike in stunned silence. She recalled him saying he'd leave her there after a day or so. But, beside that night, he hadn't mentioned it again and, after the way Meggie and Patricia had started off, she didn't think he'd just leave her. And, in the middle of the night, no less.

She jumped as arms encircled her and she stiffened, recognizing Johnnie's cologne. He urged her head to his chest. Tired, Meggie relaxed against him and let out a gut-wrenching sob. She sobbed because of her mixture of emotions toward Christopher. She sobbed because she felt so alone and abandoned with no one in the world.

"Shh, Megs. It'll be fine. I promise," he whispered, twisting strands of her hair around his finger.

She didn't want to stay here without Christopher. But he'd never intended to keep her and he'd never pretended he would. She'd built something up in her head that wasn't there. She'd fallen in love with him. Not the other way around. Now, he was gone and, without him, she was completely alone.

Included in all their plans was a visit to the boardwalk and going to see one, if not both, of the lighthouses.

What could've happened between those plans and Christopher's decision to just leave?

"I want to hear your Christmas carols."

At the sound of Johnnie's voice, Meggie looked up from her game of Angry Birds. Exhaustion clung to her. She hadn't slept in the seventeen hours since Christopher stormed out. She'd left Johnnie and returned to the room she'd looked forward to sharing with Christopher, doing nothing but staring out the window where the darkness swallowed any view, going over scenario after scenario about what sent him running from her in the middle of the night. She'd called him five times already but he never answered. She'd called the clubhouse twice and both times she'd been told he wasn't available. Her heart seemed to break into a thousand pieces, the pain of his sudden departure cutting her deep. The only way she'd feel better was to talk to him.

"Megs?"

Heat rose to her cheeks at Johnnie's husky tone. She didn't know why she blushed when she looked at him, what fueled her need to stare at him. Her actions were conspicuous because Christopher had taken note. But that couldn't be the reason he left. Could it? He was protective of her, but not jealous.

Blond hair falling carelessly over his forehead, Johnnie strolled forward and sat next to her. She was sitting in the room that served as both a media room and a game room. Meggie decided to call it the playroom because it had a pool table, pinball machine, the biggest television she'd ever seen and a stereo system she loved. It also had a bar and a sectional in front of the TV, which was where she sat.

Her fingers shook under Johnnie's scrutiny. Though she pretended to ignore him, she was quite aware of his hard, honed body next to hers.

"I can sit here all night until you decide to acknowledge me."

Insufferable jerk.

She really wanted to start dinner, but dared not since Patricia had made it so clear the kitchen was off-limits. She hadn't seen her at all today, which, really, was fine with her.

"We can go tree hunting," Johnnie offered.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him lean back, hands behind his head, legs spread, making her all the more determined to ignore him. Besides, she didn't want to go Christmas tree shopping with him. She and Christopher had planned on doing that, then pulling out whatever decorations Patricia had stored away.

"You wanna go for a walk on the dunes, Megs?"

She concentrated harder on the game, the oinking of the victorious pigs more annoying with Johnnie there.

"Megs-"

"Stop calling me Megs," she hissed.

He leaned closer to her, his mouth near her ear. "No," he whispered, his breath fanning her skin, the smell of alcohol sending her heart plummeting.

Edging out of his grasp, she drew in a sharp breath, suddenly aware of how very alone they were. She didn't really know Johnnie, other than the fact that he was Christopher's cousin. She sat her iPad on the small table next to the sectional, her hands shaking, every confidence she'd gained away from Thomas and his intimidation caving. She rose to her feet. Johnnie didn't lunge, an encouragement and a relief.

Silver-gray eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to hurt you," he said harshly, coming to his feet.

She backed away and he stilled, staring at her in shock. Embarra.s.sed at her fear and paranoia, she lowered her lashes and studied her bare feet, her breath escaping in frantic pants.

"You're afraid of me."

She flinched at the disbelief in his tone. "Don't take it personal."

"I take it quite f.u.c.king personal."

Not responding, she waited for an insult, a snide remark, a painful grip.

Instead, he put more distance between them and cursed when she visibly relaxed.

"If we ever f.u.c.k, it's because you want me. My c.o.c.k could be sliding into you and, if you change your mind and tell me you don't want to f.u.c.k me, I'd stop."

"Would you shut up?" she demanded, her body and her head at odds with one another.

Johnnie laughed, some of the tension easing from his broad shoulders. "Are my words making you hot? You're getting wet for me?"

Her cheeks flamed. "No."

"Liar." Cautiously, he stepped closer to her again. "You want some c.o.c.k, don't you, sweetheart?"