Dirty Bastard (Wet Dicks MC Book 1)

by Echo Slater

Grinning, I slide my hand over his and then pull it back. “This weekend, I plan to witness the ninth wonder of the world hidden in your pants.”

  Mad Dog grunts. “Don’t make me hard when your parents are so close by.”

  “You wielded a woody when Hagan was that distance.”

  Leaning closer, he lowers his voice. “You mean the girl who offered to suck me off in exchange for an ounce?”

  “It’s easier than getting a job to pay for our pot,” I reply casually. “Don’t judge my bestie.”

  Mad Dog glances back at Hagan, who distracts my parents with an animated explanation of her day.

  “She’s a quality woman. You’re lucky to have her around. I hope you appreciate her.”

  “I do. Thank you for realizing my good luck.”

  Sharing my smile, Mad Dog reaches over for my hand. “I’m jealous of how good your parents are to you. Mine weren’t nearly that interested in my well-being.”

  “I’m sorry. How did they suck?”

  “Dad was a petty, angry man. Mom was weak and selfish. He got himself killed,” Mad Dog says, giving me a knowing nod. “And I paid for my mom to move to Florida, where she lives with a few other ladies Golden Girls-style. I keep claiming I’ll visit her, but I never do. Seeing her face pisses me off, and I avoid triggering my temper.”

  Unable to keep my mouth shut, I ask, “Were your parents abusive people?”

  “They weren’t not abusive people.”

  “Do you have any siblings?”

  “Thank God, no. My parents didn’t need to ruin another kid’s childhood.”

  “You suffered to get where you are,” I say, stroking his knuckles. “Does it bother you that I haven’t? Can I really understand your path when mine was so easy?”

  “Weren’t you left in a dumpster?”

  Strangling the gasp trying to break free, I ask, “Who told you that?”

  “Some dweebs.”

  “Well, that happened when I was too little to remember. The part of my life that I know has always been happy. My parents are great. I have the best bestie. My family has a lot of fun together. Like I said, my life has been easy unlike yours.”

  Mad Dog’s dark eyes study me. “Maybe we’re different, but that doesn’t change how I want you.”

  “I want you, too,” I admit, stroking his knuckles again. “This weekend will push some boundaries. But then what happens?”

  “Haven’t you ever dated anyone before?”

  “I had one boyfriend, but we mostly talked at school or just after. I didn’t do anything with him. No, wait, we did go to the movies once with Hagan and his friend. I spent most of my time talking to her.”

  “You two are tight,” he says, glancing at Hagan. “I like that. Sometimes, people can’t appreciate the kind of bond I share with my club brothers. They think we’re just friends or work buddies or some shit. But that’s not how we run. Those men are my family. Better than the one I was born into.”

  I smile at the warm expression on his face when he speaks of his club brothers. Those men intimidate me, but they mean everything to Mad Dog.

  “You and I are different in a lot of ways, but we both protect those we love,” I say, squeezing his hand. “The three people at that booth own my heart. I never turned into a teenage brat who hates her parents. Arlene and Phil choose to respect and trust me. I honor their faith by almost always being straight with them. That’s why I didn’t flip my shit when they wanted to come today.”

  Still squeezing his hand, I hold his gaze. “And you have people who matter to you. I’ll treat them with care if you do the same with my family. Then, whatever happens, or doesn’t happen between us won’t be a result of people interfering. We’ll own our fate.”

  Mad Dog gives me a weird look as if I’m talking too much about heavy stuff. That’s why I ask, “What’s your favorite movie?”

  “Snatch.”

  “Is that a porno?”

  Mad Dog instantly grins. “No, baby.”

  “It feels like you’re messing with me. Like, you want me to think of fucking.”

  “Why would I want your mind on fucking when we can’t do anything to satisfy those thoughts?”

  “So, I’ll think of you later when I masturbate.”

  “Good Lord, you make me feel like a feckless little fuck,” he says, adjusting his jeans.

  “You’re the one who claimed your favorite movie was about pussy.”

  “No, baby, it’s real,” he stresses before pulling up the information on his phone. “It’s a Guy Ritchie movie with Jason Statham.”

  My mouth pops open with surprise. “Wait, so you weren’t flirting?”

  “Well, I’m always flirting a little with you, yeah.”

  “But the movie’s real. Huh, I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Do you watch a lot of action flicks?”

  “No, and I also don’t call movies ‘flicks.’ That sounds like another sex thing.”

  “How is ‘flick’ sex-related?” he asks, chuckling.

  “Rhymes with dick, and you can flick a clit.”

  “Oh, can you now? Is that something you do to yourself?”

  Flushing blazing hot, I shrug. “No, but I want to try now.”

  “Or wait and let my fingers be your first.”

  “Okay,” I promise, smiling brightly.

  Mad Dog slides his phone back in his pocket and asks, “What’s your favorite movie?”

  “You won’t believe me.”

  “Is it something smart?”

  “No, it’s Dick.”

  Laughing again, he says, “Okay, I don’t believe you.”

  “It’s an actual movie like your snatch thing.”

  “Is your movie a porno?”

  Grinning, I shake my head. “No, it’s a comedy.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  Now, I’m the one using my phone to provide proof. “It stars Kirsten Dunst and Michelle Williams as teenagers who take down President Nixon. You know, Tricky Dick?”

  “Well, I’ll be damned. It’s a real movie. Did you just pick it to mess with me? Like a dick to go with my snatch?”

  “No. It’s really my favorite,” I say, blushing and giggling like a silly bitch.

  “Why?”

  “The characters’ closeness reminds me of my bond with Hagan.”

  Mad Dog glances at my family’s table where my bestie butt-bounces while telling a story. Hagan is very good at distracting people. She’s why I never learned anything in our shared biology class.

  “Well, I’m not a particularly religious guy,” Mad Dog says, focusing his dark eyes on me. “I don’t know if I believe in God or think an alien is pushing our buttons.”

  “Why an alien?”

  “If it isn’t from here, it’s alien.”

  “True.”

  “I just know there’s got to be some kind of fate for our favorite movies to fit so perfectly together.”

  Mad Dog and I share one of those smiles where neither of us hides anything. We might be at Bob Evans surrounded by old people and my parents. There may be a world of difference between him and me.

  Yet, right now, he’s what I didn’t even know I was looking for. I’ve never once longed for a man to sweep me off my feet. I wasn’t in any hurry to fall in love.

  But, with Mad Dog, I’m dying to see what happens next.

  MAD DOG—RUNNIN’ DOWN A DREAM

  After discussing movies, Cameo and I order our dinner. I’m curious if she’ll get a salad, but she wants a fried pork tenderloin with mashed potatoes. I order ham since I just had fried chicken last night

  Before our food arrives, Cameo decides we should play a game.

  “Like with the movies,” she explains as her blue eyes shine with amusement. “We’ll find our favorite things on our phones and show them to each other. Like, if you had to listen to one song on repeat for an entire day, which one would you pick?”

  I search for a Tom Petty song I did listen to for several hou
rs when I was too hungover to fix the loop feature.

  “Mine is Saweetie’s ‘Best Friend,’” she says, and I’m starting to see a trend.

  We do the same thing with our favorite TV shows and where we’d go on vacation. By the time our food arrives, Cameo promises to masturbate to my favorite song.

  “It’ll help me think of you tonight,” she murmurs and then snaps a picture of me. “This will, too.”

  “Why do you gotta make me hard right when I’m ready to eat? I just got my cock under control.”

  “Your muscle memory will help you feed yourself despite the lack of blood in your brain,” she says casually while cutting her tenderloin.

  “Don’t you care if my dick’s hard when your parents are nearby?”

  “My parents know sex exists. That’s why they’re always fixing stuff in their bedroom,” she says and winks. “It’s code for fucking.”

  I glance at her nerdy parents and try to imagine them horny for each other. But, not surprisingly, the visual of a secretary banging an accountant doesn’t really do anything for me dick-wise.

  “What are you planning to do with your time after high school?” I ask while she digs into dinner.

  “Work for my dad. I already do that in the summer.”

  “Is it fun?”

  “Sometimes, my dad gets silly and talks to the office machines. And one time, he pretended to fight a stapler.”

  “Does your dad drink on the job?”

  Cameo snorts and covers her mouth. I immediately reach across the table and slide her fingers out of the way.

  “Don’t hide from me,” I demand in a tender voice. “I want to see all of you, even the stuff you think should be kept to yourself.”

  “So, like menses and farts and stuff?”

  “Sure. Wait, what’s menses? My parents pulled me out of sex education to ensure I didn’t grow up to be a horndog. Is menses a woman thing I should google?”

  “It’s my period, you nutball.”

  “Oh, yeah, I know all about that,” I say and wag my finger at her. “Did you know if women live together for long enough, they’ll start syncing up their periods like robots?”

  Cameo laughs. “Everyone knows that.”

  “I didn’t. Not until Grizz brought home his woman and her period challenged the periods of the women shacked up at the Ranch. We finally had to kick those chicks out, so Raqui’s period could win. Then, she went and got preggo and didn’t have a period at all.”

  “Who are Grizz and Raqui? And did you have to get rid of the chick shacked up with you during the Menses War?”

  Smiling at the hint of possessiveness I detect in her voice, I explain, “No woman’s ever stuck it out at my place for more than two days.”

  “Why? Are you afraid to share your space?”

  “No, they just get sick of me ignoring them and hogging the remote.”

  “Maybe I’ll shack up with you for three days and break the record held by those chicks.”

  Smirking, I imagine Cameo running around naked for a long weekend at my house. “You’re making my dick hard again.”

  “Wait, does it stop being hard without getting fixed? Like it just deflates?”

  “Will you be focused on my dick all dinner?” I tease.

  “I’m mostly thinking of your beautiful eyes and smile,” she says, literally glowing. “But, yeah, my mind does occasionally flash to questions related to your possible length and girth.”

  “Girth, huh?”

  “You betcha.”

  Sharing a smile, I wish we were sitting on the same side of the table. Then, I could give her hand a hint at the length and girth she’s inspired.

  But her parents are weirdly quiet at their table. I realize Hagan’s disappeared. Maybe to the restroom, or possibly she talked herself to death and sunk to the floor.

  “How did you meet Hagan?” I ask, leaning back and trying to find a comfortable position for my complaining dick.

  “Her mom and mine were friends. They organized a lot of playdates. Hagan was my first friend. When Hagan was seven, her mom slammed into a tree, going like eighty. She was high, apparently. Hooked on oxytocin. I don’t know exactly. People only whisper about it.”

  Cameo glances over her shoulder at her family’s table. “Hagan’s dad couldn’t cope. She wasn’t kidding about him being a functioning alcoholic. He was that way before his wife died. But functioning while raising a kid alone is harder, I guess. My parents got custody of Hagan when she was eight.”

  “So, she’s also your sister.”

  Nodding, Cameo smiles wider. “She won’t call my parents Mom and Dad, but she loves them so much. Some people,” she says and reaches across the table to stroke my hand, “don’t get a do-over family, but we did.”

  “Growing up is easier when you have a great friend,” I say, thinking of all those family photos of her as a smiling kid.

  “How did you become a Dick?” she asks, smirking at the last word.

  “Bishop introduced me to Grizz. That’s the club president. Raqui is his wife. Back then, he was just starting his business,” I say, stressing business to avoid blurting out how we make our money.

  “Did you love Grizz immediately?”

  “No. He was an asshole. Reminded me of my dad, actually.”

  Cameo’s face falls from a smile to a pout. “I’m sorry.”

  “I like how you’re worried about shit that happened decades ago.”

  “If the shit involves you, I care.”

  I don’t suffer a single doubt about Cameo’s sincerity. The girl wears every emotion on her beautiful face. In her life, I don’t suppose she has much reason to lie well.

  I glance at her parents, who peek at us, see me looking at them, and struggle to act as if they weren’t spying. They’re the kind of nice, rather boring parents I secretly wanted as a kid.

  I mocked their type plenty, just to seem as if I was above such things as kindness and devotion. But I would see those types of parents out with their kids, doing lame family shit and smiling a lot like they were drunk. My mom and dad rarely ever smiled and never at me or each other. Lame or not, those other families owned a magic mine never would.

  I’m glad Cameo grew up wrapped in her family’s safe love. She never worried about violence or felt neglected. Hell, her parents are currently listening to Hagan tell what sounds like a bullshit story, just so they can keep an eye on their princess across from me.

  “Grizz turned me off, but I liked Bishop,” I continue after a long moment. “He grew up like I did, but he was always in a good mood. Some of that was, um, his friend, Mary Jane, who became very close to him in junior high,” I say, winking at Cameo. “Still, Bishop was easygoing, and I was often angry. So, when he was around, I chilled out. Being calm felt better than sitting around pissed. That’s how I ended up joining the club.”

  “Do you still not like Grizz?”

  “No, he’s fine now,” I say, smiling at her concern. “I realize my issues with him were from my fucked-up thinking.”

  “How so?”

  “Imagine if you met someone who reminded you of your greatest enemy. You’d assume the new person was a carbon copy of the person you can’t stand. In reality, the similarities might be superficial shit. I was young when I met Grizz, and I was looking to punish men who reminded me of my dad. I’ve gotten past that.”

  “Very healthy,” she says, reaching over to stroke my hand again. “I wish I was sitting next to you, so I could better console your bruised heart.”

  “Is that code for touch my girth?”

  Rather than giggle at my joke, Cameo watches me with such warmth. “No, it’s the flat-out truth that I wish I could hug you. I hate knowing anyone made you sad.”

  Realizing she’s serious, I scoot over and pat the booth. “Then, come over and hug me. There’s no reason you can’t do whatever you want.”

  Cameo’s smile is a thing of beauty I never imagined possible. She’s like an angel, glowing all th
e time.

  Her body soon presses against mine, and she rests her cheek against my chest. I slide an arm around her shoulders and realize she fits perfectly against me. Isn’t that something? As if this sexy chick was made just for me.

  When her blue eyes gaze up at me, I see a woman I could look at for the rest of my life. Cameo Sutton is everything I didn’t know I needed. I hadn’t been lonely before we met. There was no hole in my heart aching to be filled. I was a happy guy with no complaints.

  But I can’t be him ever again. Either Cameo becomes mine forever, or I spend the rest of my life drowning in regret.

  CAMEO—WILD SIDE

  The Bob Evans date is a smashing success. I worried Mad Dog would lose some of his sexiness when surrounded by old people eating mashed potatoes. Instead, he remained gorgeous, charming, and still into me.

  Even so, I get worried about our date to the movies. “What if the magic between us fades?” I ask Hagan as we sit in the quad for lunch.

  “He won’t lose interest until he’s spunked in as many of your holes as possible.”

  “You own the most romantic heart.”

  “I know, and it’ll be the death of me,” Hagan says and sighs dramatically before asking, “Are you worried about local fuckwits seeing you with him on a date?”

  “We already went to Bob Evans.”

  “Yes, and the Barrow elderly population was rocked to their core by your scandalous nature. But the movies might draw the attention of people born this century.”

  “I’m not ashamed of Mad Dog.”

  “Why would you be? He’s fucking hot. Look around here,” Hagan says, gesturing at where the jocks loudly talk about the pussy they’ve scored in their lame attempt to seem like players. “Barrow isn’t brimming with sexy fuckers. In fact, most of the hottest men live out at the Ranch.”

  “You know, months ago, the lady who cuts Arlene’s hair said the same thing about where the hot men lived. I just shrugged. No way did I imagine someone like Mad Dog was so close.”

  Hagan shrugs. “Why would we ever assume anyone cool lives around here? Your parents are the only swinging hotties in the neighborhood.”

  After smiling at her comment, I lean closer and whisper, “What if I can’t keep up with him sexually?”