Dirty Bastard (Wet Dicks MC Book 1)

by Echo Slater

“Baby, unless I want to look like one of those scrawny high school boys you know, I need to eat a lot of calories and pump a lot of weights.”

  Stroking his jaw, I shake my head. “No way would you look like them, even if you shrunk and lost all these muscles. You’re something else, and you know it.”

  Mad Dog gives me a leisurely kiss, leaving my body swooning. I no doubt wear a goofy look on my face when our lips part.

  “Let me run downstairs and grab something to eat.”

  “Will you put on pants?” I ask as he scoots off the bed. “I’m not sure I’m ready to dress.”

  Smirking, Mad Dog stands in his naked glory. He struts into a walk-in closet and returns with a T-shirt.

  “Wear this,” he says and slides it over my head. “That way, you can walk by windows downstairs without anyone seeing what only I can know.”

  Blinded earlier by Mad Dog’s beauty, I now notice his bedroom. The dark gray walls flow into the nearly black hardwood floors. The king-sized bed and a matching side table are the only pieces of bedroom furniture. One door opens to the walk-in closet, another to the master bath, and a third takes us into the hallway.

  Mad Dog holds my hand as we walk past a masculine family room with a massive TV in the corner before reaching an ultra-sleek kitchen complete with stainless steel countertops and appliances.

  “Wow, bikers must make some serious cha-ching,” I say, running my fingers across the stylish black cabinets.

  “There’s that, and Cash comes from money.”

  “Did your friend build you this sexy house?” I ask, feeling up his butt as he sticks his head into the fridge.

  Smirking, Mad Dog stops searching for food and kisses me hard. If he’s hoping to steal my breath and shut me up, his plan works.

  He throws together ham sandwiches and dumps a handful of chips on a pair of plates. After grabbing two cans of Monster Loco Mango, we settle into the slick kitchen banquette.

  “My pussy is arguing with itself. It both wants to rest,” I mumble, wincing in pain when I sit on the leather, “and misses your cock inside it.”

  “I’m hoping to give you one more good fuck before you leave,” he says, watching me with a possessive gaze. “I want your pussy to feel me until we’re together again.”

  Sighing, I don’t touch my food. “I’m going to miss you.”

  “Think your parents will be cool with you staying for the weekend?”

  Shaking my head, I know I’m pouting. “They aren’t ready for me to be an adult. Like, they try to give me space because I turned eighteen. But I’m still in high school, so they think of me as a kid.”

  “I appreciate how much your parents care for you,” he says in between bites. “You deserve to be loved by good people. But I’m also greedy and want you with me.”

  “I’ll talk to them about next weekend,” I say and sigh. “You do want to get together next week, right?”

  Mad Dog gives me a little frown. “Baby, I want you to move in right now, so we can be together every day,” he mumbles with his mouth full. “Until that happens, I’ll snap up every minute you have available.”

  “I’m not hungry,” I say, scooting closer and kissing his shoulder. “I want to soak in what time we have left tonight.”

  Mad Dog wraps an arm around me while he finishes his sandwich. He tries to get me to eat, but my body doesn’t crave food. I can eat whenever I want at home. But here with Mad Dog, I only want to see, feel, and taste him.

  MAD DOG—BURNIN’ FOR YOU

  Cameo clings to me while I eat a snack. She remains attached after a trip to the bathroom. In bed, as our bodies come together again, she watches me with big, desperate eyes. Her orgasm is muted, maybe from her sad mood or the overstimulation from our earlier fucks. When she gets dressed, I catch her fighting tears.

  While I might not be as obvious about my feelings, it fucking kills me to walk Cameo to her car. I’ve had plenty of women in my house before. A few stayed over, but none felt as if they belonged there. Cameo fits like no one else, and I hate knowing she won’t be next to me when I wake up in the morning.

  “I’ll follow you home,” I say when we stand at her car, and she pouts with those delicious lips. “To make sure you get there safe.”

  Cameo must know I’m full of shit. Barrow isn’t particularly dangerous, and she’ll make a straight shot home. I bet her parents are up waiting for her. Though she doesn’t need supervision, I’m not ready to tell her goodbye.

  Despite understanding I’m lying about why I plan to follow her, Cameo rewards me with a great smile.

  “I’ll feel safer knowing you’re nearby.”

  I force my fingers to stop stroking her lips, so I can head to my Harley parked back at my house. Cameo waits in her idling car until I return to her. The ten-minute ride feels good on my skin. I’m overheated and agitated. Tonight with Cameo in my bed was the fucking best, but now she’ll sleep somewhere else.

  Hiding my irritation over having to tell her goodnight, I climb off my Harley after she parks. Inside the house, three pairs of eyes watch us. I’m sure neighbors also spy despite the late hour.

  “Call me in the morning,” I insist while memorizing the blissed-out look on her gorgeous face. “I want to know if you still feel me inside you.”

  Cameo wraps her arms around my waist and holds on. When she hides her face against my chest, I worry she’ll cry. No way can I handle her tears. I’m already weak-as-fuck over this woman. If Cameo starts sobbing, I won’t be able to leave her. Hell, I’ll carry her to my Harley and steal her back to the Ranch.

  Despite the vibes she’s sending, Cameo does let go and smile for me. “Tonight wasn’t what I expected. I thought it would just feel good, like better masturbation. Being with you was so much more. I’m a little weirded out by how deeply you made me come apart. I need to go inside now before I cry and beg you not to leave me.”

  Cameo looks so painfully young as she struggles with her emotions. Even as I kiss her, I wonder if I ought to back off and let her grow up a little more before I claim her. Cameo derails that idea by reaching around and cupping my ass possessively.

  “Whose ass is this?” she asks in what I think is meant to be my voice.

  “Yours, baby. No one else can squeeze it.”

  Laughing, Cameo forces herself away from me. I love how she doesn’t want to turn around and walk into the house. Instead, she shuffles backward, drinking in the sight of me. That’s the afterglow of my well-fucked woman.

  CAMEO—WONDERFUL TONIGHT

  I stand at the front windows and watch Mad Dog ride away. Only when he’s out of sight, do I turn toward my parents and Hagan. All three sit on the couch, watching “The Devil Wears Prada.” They stare at me with the same curious expression.

  “I’m officially a woman.”

  “Oh, boy,” Mom says with a mournful sigh.

  “Arlene, Phil, perhaps I should speak with the little lady,” Hagan offers, patting their knees. “I’ll go ahead and get the details. Then, I’ll edit them to prevent setting off your acid reflux.”

  Mom inhales sharply. “No, Hagan, I think we should hear this.”

  “Really?” I ask immediately.

  “Be honest,” Dad says before adding, “We can take it.”

  “I lost myself in his touch.”

  “Yeah, go on,” Hagan says, leaning forward and widening her eyes. “Can you walk comfortably?”

  “I could use a shower and a heating pad.”

  “Might want to ice it up.”

  “Good Lord,” Arlene mutters. “Maybe we should have Hagan give us the cleaned-up version.”

  “No,” Phil says through his clenched jaw, “I’m ready to accept my daughter’s adult sexuality.”

  “Now, I’m queasy,” Hagan whispers before leaning back against my mom, who plays with her hair. “She’s growing up so fast, Arlene.”

  Hagan’s impression of her grandfather always cracks up my mom.

  “Can I go shower?”
r />   “To wash off your sin?” Hagan asks.

  “I want his scent on me. Maybe I won’t shower.”

  “I accept I’m not ready for this,” Phil tells Arlene. “I can’t talk casually about this subject.”

  “Let’s just say,” I tell them while removing my jacket and hanging it up, “I believe I’ve found my love.”

  “Aw,” Hagan coos. “Really?”

  “Yes,” I say, nodding.

  “Really?” Arlene asks, reaching for Dad’s hand. “You barely know each other.”

  “How long did it take to know Dad was the one for you?”

  “Seven weeks,” she announces immediately as if she had that nugget locked and loaded.

  “Why so long?”

  “Well, we were busy,” she says, shrugging. “We were both in college and only saw each other once or twice a week.”

  Phil sighs. “I knew sooner.”

  “Aw,” Hagan says, patting my parents’ knees again. “Everyone’s in love.”

  I smile at her, signaling with my eyes how incredible Mad Dog was in bed. Hagan just shrugs as if she doesn’t care. That’s all a show for my parents’ sake. They’re reeling from me having a grown-up lover rather than a stupid teenager who comes in a minute and reassures me he’s a stud.

  Is that what they want for me? Probably not, but Mad Dog rightfully scares the shit out of my parents.

  “Can we invite Mad Dog to dinner?” I ask, and my parents freeze.

  Fighting giggles, Hagan mumbles, “Yes, please.”

  “Sure,” Phil says, nodding too much. “We should get to know the person you’re fond of.”

  “I love him.”

  “It’s been a week,” Arlene says instantly.

  “But we’ve been on several dates and spent a wonderful evening together. He’s the one.”

  My parents give up on their mature act and turn to Hagan bouncing between them. “Go upstairs and talk about stuff.”

  Hagan springs off the couch and runs to me. “We should get you in a hot bath, where you can soothe your battered lady bits.”

  Before we go upstairs, I hug my parents. “I love you.”

  They smile tightly, horrified to see their baby growing up and getting banged by a biker. I don’t blame them. If my daughter told me she was in love with a tatted, big-dicked criminal who lives on a secluded property with his wild friends, I’d probably wear the same queasy expression.

  Oh, and I bet if Mad Dog was the father of my hypothetical daughter, he’d do more than get nauseous. Oh, he’d most definitely give that other biker a piece of his mind. No way would he invite another version of himself over for dinner.

  But Arlene whispers in my ear to see if Mad Dog will join them one night.

  “The sooner, the better,” she adds, and I smile like a goof.

  Leaving my parents to deal with their panic and despair, I head upstairs with Hagan, who keeps sniffing me.

  “You smell like biker spunk.”

  “I’m just leaking it everywhere.”

  “Well, let me be more careful where I step, then,” she says before hugging me. “You’re such a skank.”

  “I did things,” I say, pushing her into my room and shutting the door. “Dirty things.”

  “Butt stuff?”

  “Just his fingers.”

  Mouth popping open, she asks, “Did you cry?”

  “Almost. I was so overwhelmed and got clingy.”

  “Because his fingers were up your butt?”

  “No, because my body was on fire.”

  “Chlamydia,” she says, nodding as I start the bath.

  I take Hagan by the shoulders and stare into her eyes. “He fucked me so thoroughly I became an extension of his cock.”

  “And that’s a good thing?”

  “I came so hard and a lot.”

  “Ooh, that is a good thing,” she says, wiggling her dark brows. “Did he make you suck him off?”

  “I wanted to. His cock is so hot, and it made me feel so good. I went crazy for him.”

  “Did you swallow?”

  “With Mad Dog, of course. My stomach is filled to the rim with jizz right now.”

  “Never say jizz. It makes me think of that terrible music.”

  When I strip out of my clothes, Hagan gasps. “That dirty bastard left you covered in biker hickeys.”

  I stand in front of the mirror and admire Mad Dog’s love marks. “He really enjoyed sucking on my breasts.”

  “Well, yeah, they’re bodacious. All the guys want your lips and tits.”

  “Mad Dog isn’t all guys. He’s everything, and he fucked me so completely, Hagan. Like none of that quickie shit or coming after a minute of huffing and puffing. It was deep and intense. He consumed me.”

  “You’re making me a little horny, Cam,” she mumbles, fanning herself with her hand. “Might want to put that shit in neutral while you’re waltzing around naked.”

  “Sorry,” I say, sinking into the bathtub and wincing when my bajingo reaches the hot water. “I feel everything. My mind races, and my body hums.”

  “We still have pot left from when you met the dirty bastard.”

  Though tempted, I say, “Mom and Dad will likely check on me before they crash. Don’t want them catching us.”

  Leaning against the sink counter, Hagan sighs. “Will you become Missus Dirty Bastard after tonight?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe one day,” I say, closing my eyes. “A girl at the Ranch is married to the club president. Raqui made it sound like I should just live there, so she had chick company.”

  “So, you get a hot biker and a new best friend and more orgasms than you can shake a dick at while I’m left behind with Arlene and Phil. What a crock of shit.”

  Opening my eyes, I ask, “Are you really mad?”

  “No, but I’m used to you spending all your time with me. Now, I have to share you with what’s his face and this new bitch. That’s too much competition. What if I can’t keep up?”

  “We’re besties and sisters. Nothing’s changing.”

  “Promise?”

  “Of course.”

  “What if you get knocked up with a baby biker and live on the Ranch and have to service Mad Dog’s cock twenty-four seven? When will you have time for me?”

  “Can’t you just hook up with one of the Dicks, too? We can hang out together in between servicing cocks and making babies.”

  “I don’t know,” Hagan says, cupping her shorts-covered bajingo. “Big cocks, fingers up the butt, and spunk for dinner seems like more than I can handle.”

  We share a laugh at the picture she paints while I sink lower into the water.

  “Tomorrow, I’ll wake up feeling normal, but I’ll never be the same. Mad Dog already charmed me so much this last week. But tonight, he claimed me completely. I don’t know how to be me with thinking of him anymore.”

  “How about you finish your bath and then crawl in bed? Maybe eat a few crackers to soak up all the biker cum in your stomach. Then, you can sleep for a solid eight hours. Tomorrow, you’ll feel more like yourself. Once you have a nutritional non-jism-filled breakfast, you can ask Mad Dog to come over for dinner. I’m going to fucking love that.”

  “Why?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. “Are you planning to embarrass me?”

  “How would I even do that? Show him baby pictures of you looking fucking adorable? Tell stories of you effortlessly succeeding at life?”

  “I’m terrible at math.”

  “Yeah, you are pretty fucking stupid with numbers.”

  Thinking of how dumb I sometimes feel at Phil’s office, I mumble, “Good thing I’m not planning to work for an accountant one day.”

  “Well, that’s assuming your dirty bastard doesn’t pound a baby into your lady hole and keep you busy for the next eighteen years.”

  “You really have a way with words,” I murmur, closing my eyes again.

  “It’s a gift I inherited from my alcoholic father. Like my ability to hold my
liquor and shoot a three-pointer.”

  Grinning, I’m relieved to have Hagan to talk with after my wild night. When I first arrived home, I was so overwhelmed. One minute, I wanted to run back to Mad Dog. The next minute, I was tempted to beg my parents to cradle me like a baby until I felt normal again.

  But I’m calmer now, less focused on the fucking and wild orgasms. My mind recalls how I felt in Mad Dog’s arms as we rested in bed. His heartbeat sounded so steady. His voice soothed my fears. We were comfortable together. In his intensely masculine house on the Ranch, I felt at peace.

  MAD DOG—THINKING OF YOU

  The guys are already in the Hanger when I arrive. Grizz holds Cross on his lap and feeds the kid eggs with his fingers. Back in the kitchen area, Dexy and Rubber Duck fry bacon while talking shit about each other’s cooking skills. I assume they woke up on the wrong side of that lovefest.

  After grabbing myself a cup of coffee, I pile as much food as I can fit on my plate. Horse grunts when I sit across from him.

  “Long night?” I taunt.

  “Chick wouldn’t leave.”

  Down the table, Bishop smirks behind his coffee cup. “Who wouldn’t want more of his sunny personality?”

  A sleepy Cash cracks a grin while Stoney seems hungover.

  “Breakfast is great, Dexy,” I say, and Rubber Duck shoots me a dirty look.

  Soon, Raqui waddles into the Hanger and pretends to pat my shoulder. “Your girlfriend was really nice. Not at all the stuck-up bitch I assumed. I hope you don’t fuck things up with her.”

  “I’m planning on keeping her.”

  “Fucking was that good, huh?” Stoney asks.

  “You can never understand how good.”

  “Do you figure my brain lacks the imagination?”

  “No, your tiny dick just lacks the experience.”

  “That’s his tiny wet dick, remember?” Cash mumbles, reaching for the orange juice. “Killed me when your girl asked why we’re named Wet Dicks rather than, you know, something that wouldn’t make her parents blush.”

  “Speaking of adult supervision,” Stoney says immediately, “what does Mommy and Daddy think of their princess getting plowed by your dirty dick?”