Page 8 of Rebellious

“We’ll make it work,” she promised, kissing his chest and sitting up, her golden hair fluttering around her as she scooted to the edge of the bed. “Wait until you see everything I bought for Gunner and Jo’s nursery.”

Christopher sat up too. “You went shopping?”

Gliding her fingers through her hair, she glanced over her shoulder, grinned, and nodded. “I visited Jo first. I knew what I wanted, so it didn’t take long for me to make the purchases.”

Christopher snickered. “Even if you ain’t know what the fuck you wanted, you can drop fifty bands in ten fuckin’ minutes.”

She stood, turned, and hugged him. “That’s a testament to how much you spoil me.”

Never able to get enough of her, he kissed her again and pulled her onto his lap. “I fuckin’ live to spoil you.”

“I live for you,” she said, caressing his jaw, her look of adoration humbling as always.

She slid off his lap and grabbed his hand, hers slender and delicate. She proudly wore her diamond wedding set and the new blue diamond ring he’d recently gifted her with. Her nails weren’t the length of a vixen’s, but the hot pink color on her fingers and toes was sexy.

“Let’s go to the nursery, so I can show you everything. I have color samples for the shades of paint I’m considering.”

She sounded so thrilled, he refused to burst her bubble by telling her he trusted her choices. Besides, she was fucking naked. Her red nipples, enticing curves, and blonde pussy bush always commanded his attention. He’d follow her to the ends of earth any day but naked and fucked-flushed?

He’d jump into a burning pit if she commanded him.

She opened the connecting door and stepped into the empty room that would become Jo and Gunner’s nursery. Originally, the nursery was going to be across the hall, but he knew his woman preferred them close in the connecting room, meaning they had even less closet space for his and Megan’s clothes.

“I’ve ordered a woodland mural for this wall,” she started, her hair flirting with her ass cheeks.

Pursing his lips, Christopher forced himself to pay attention and not grab her, carry her back to the bedroom, and fuck her again.

She knew how much he loved her hair. Each time she touched it or made it move, she enticed him, and he wanted more of her. Right now, he needed her, too. So fucking much. He had such a fucked up feeling in his gut.

By snatching Bash’s deal, Christopher played with fire. No matter his altruistic—kind of—motives. He wouldn’t lie and say the amount of money involved didn’t entice him.

It would fund his desire to relocate to McKay and build a hospital there for Rule so Megan didn’t fly to LA every few weeks. It would change Val’s life because Christopher intended to see that he receive a significant cut. And it would remind Megan he was the provider and would always take care of her.

Howfuckinever, the flagrant disrespect and thievery would be hard for Bash to ignore if he got wind of it before Christopher started making money and sending a portion to him. If the situation was reversed, Christopher would automatically declare war. But he wasn’t a motherfucking addict and he didn’t have a fuckhead named Cleaner in his ear, misguiding him at every fucking turn.

As back as Christopher’s feeling was about that deal, something else bothered him, too. He just couldn’t figure out what. It was almost the same unease he’d felt before he discovered CJ’s overdose. Except that couldn’t be it. All his kids were accounted for and closely monitored in every scenario. No, this had to do with his act of rebellion, which annoyed the fuck out of him. Second-guessing and explanations had never been his thing. Once he committed to something, he was all in and dealt with the consequences accordingly.

“Christopher?”

He blinked and Megan’s face came back into focus.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, baby.” He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled tenderly. “Just club shit.”

Her brows snapped together.

“Nothin’ to do with our boys,” he swore. “Just shit I gotta do.”

“U-umkay.”

Shoving everything else aside so he wouldn’t unduly worry her, he redirected the conversation to the matter-at-hand and the reason they weren’t fucking again. “Tell me about whatcha doin’ in here.”

Hesitation crossed her gorgeous face.

“I’m listenin’. I swear.”

“O-okay.” She sounded hesitant but she pointed to the wall on the other side of the room, then mapped an area with her feet. “This is where the rug will be, along with a small table and two chairs. On that wall—” She nodded to the wall near the door that led to the hallway— “This is an interior room, so I’ve ordered a mural with a window, blue skies, and rainbows. Same for the wall behind you. That’s where Jo’s bed will be.”