A Low Down Dirty Shane

by Sierra Dean

  Now she looked hurt, which hadn’t been his plan but gave him an opportunity to re-zip his pants. Awkwardly.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said.

  “You don’t want to?” Self-consciously she covered her chest.

  He paused, not wanting to stick his foot further into his mouth. How he’d managed to take a sure thing and crash it straight into the ground in a matter of seconds was something to marvel at. No other man in his right mind would say no to a smoking-hot redheaded virgin who was literally saying, Take me now.

  “You’re gorgeous.”

  “Great, so…” Her voice trailed off, and she gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I’m not sure how this is supposed to go. Should I have brought you chocolates or something?”

  “Siobhan, I’m really flattered you want to, you know, have me deflower you. But this is sort of a serious thing.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s supposed to be special.”

  “Was your first time special?”

  “My first time was in the back of a Cutlass and lasted about forty-seven seconds,” he confessed.

  “My first time will ensure my family can’t make me a virgin sacrifice next week.” She gave him a look that made him feel properly moronic for trying to be a gentleman. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t hurt you.” She tugged her dress over her head in a gesture so fluid he barely saw her move until she was standing in front of him in only her underwear.

  He’d tried to be a decent guy.

  Looked like they were going to do this her way.

  Chapter Eight

  Once she’d stripped bare in Shane’s living room, Siobhan’s bravado faded as he stared at her like she was about to bite him. She’d been led to believe it would be easy to convince a man to have sex with her. Hadn’t Shane himself teasingly said all she had to do was ask nicely?

  She gave him a soft smile—her best impression of a sex kitten—and in a breathy whisper said, “Please?”

  He groaned. “Oh, goddammit.” He took a step closer, his hands hovering over her hips, and he met her gaze with a stern look. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes.”

  “I mean, super-duper sure?”

  “Shane?” She leaned close, her mouth near his throat where she breathed hotly against his skin.

  “Uh-huh?”

  “Could you please shut up and fuck me?”

  Apparently please was the magic word.

  He pulled her against him, his lips crushing hers as he fed on her mouth with a brutal, needy kiss. With his hands moving over her body, exploring her newly exposed skin, she wanted to touch more of him too. She yanked at the hem of his shirt, dragging it over his flushed skin until he was forced to break free of the kiss so the garment could be disposed of. Siobhan paused, marveling at his physique. He wasn’t a big man, unless she counted height, but he was all muscle, and his body was that of a fighter—lean and strong. On the left side of his torso, over his ribs, was a large black-and-gray tattoo depicting a woman with a sword, her eyes blindfolded, stabbing a dragon.

  Justice.

  Shane, apparently not wanting to let her get distracted, lifted her while making a noise between a growl and a sigh. Siobhan wrapped her legs and arms around him, latching herself to his body as he carried her from the living room to a small makeshift bedroom hidden behind a curtain he’d hung from the ceiling. He knelt on the mattress, only loosening his hold on her when there was no risk of her being dropped.

  He met her gaze, and she worried he might ask her if she was sure again. Instead he smiled wolfishly and skimmed his hands from her hips to her breasts, sending a nervous shiver across her skin. This was nothing like she’d prepared herself for. She’d imagined sex plenty of times, her mind wandering over things she’d read in books or seen in movies, but she’d always thought about it in a removed, almost analytical way. She was never meant to experience it herself, so best not to dwell on it. Even when she’d met Shane for the first time she hadn’t let herself admit she’d been attracted to him. Becoming involved with a man was the last thing on her mind, and wanting one was about as smart as being on a diet and spending your days standing in front of a doughnut shop.

  If you weren’t allowed to have it, out of sight out of mind was the only safe course of action.

  Shane unsnapped her bra with a flick of his fingers, and she shuddered.

  Forget being a dieter in a doughnut store. She was a diabetic in a candy factory, and sugar shock was about to set in.

  His mouth reversed the path his hands had taken, his tongue and lips trailing daring kisses down her belly and stopping just shy of the waistband of her underwear. “Oh…my.” She breathed raggedly. Shane touched her in an eager, attentive way that made her think it had been awhile since he’d had a woman to play dirty with and he was going to make the most of it while he had her here.

  She pushed her own bra off onto the floor but covered her breasts uncertainly.

  “No,” he said, stopping his exploration to look up at her from his rather precarious position nestled between her knees. “Don’t hide.”

  “But…”

  “Siobhan.” The way he said her name made long-ignored parts of her clench with anticipation. “Who is saving whose life here?”

  “You.”

  “Is saving who?” He hooked his fingers in her underwear and gave a warning tug.

  “Me.”

  “That’s right.” Shane pulled her underwear down until it tickled her knees before removing it and throwing it into the hidden darkness of the room.

  In fiction, and the way she’d been led to believe this stuff worked, she was supposed to be in love with him. She was supposed to know his soul and all the Hallmark-romance crap being sold to the masses.

  Love was a luxury she didn’t have time for.

  If this worked and she had more than five days to live, she’d worry about love later.

  He pushed apart her knees, warm fingers rough against her formerly untouched skin. She felt less virtuous with every passing moment and was certain pure was the last word to describe the feeling that accompanied Shane’s tongue sliding over the hot bundle of nerves at her core.

  She cried out, forgetting all about shyness and self-consciousness, and took her hands away from her chest so she could grab two fistfuls of his thick hair. He’d paused at her exclamation, but when she latched her legs around his back and clenched like a vise grip, he got the message loud and clear.

  The longer he lapped at her, the more her thoughts slipped away from worry about her future. When he slid two fingers inside her and she garbled out a string of incomprehensible vowel sounds, she was sure thought had gone out the window entirely.

  This was sex?

  She’d imagined it being much more aggressive and…shorter lived. A few sweaty pumps and she could call it a night with her virginity gone and her life saved.

  Shane seemed to have a different idea about things, and she wasn’t planning to tell him he was going about it all wrong. What the hell did she know anyway? She hadn’t had a damned clue about sex, that’s for sure, because if she’d had the slightest idea it felt so damned glorious, she’d have thrown away her maidenhood a long time ago.

  Her dizzy musings faded into starbursts of light and nothingness when he sucked her clit between his teeth and his tongue flicked with the frenetic energy of a hummingbird’s heartbeat. Siobhan’s back arched as she clawed at his damp skin, and she might have been screaming, but all she heard was white noise and the pounding of her own heart.

  The moment exploded, leaving her whole body raw and shocked and her pulse racing.

  She released him and melted bonelessly into the mattress, short panting breaths escaping her lips.

  “What the fuck?” she whispered.

  His head lifted from between her thighs, and the grin on his face damn near melted her resolve to feel nothing. Shane looked so goddamn proud of himself.

  “Round one.”

&
nbsp; “Holy.” Siobhan stared at the ceiling and tried to brush her hair from her eyes but found her limbs unwilling to respond properly. Her joints were suddenly constructed from overcooked pasta, and her pulse seemed to be throbbing in her vagina instead of her heart.

  “You okay?” he asked, the mattress shifting under his weight as he put a knee on either side of her hips and rested his hands beside her shoulders.

  She blinked at him and put a weak hand on his cheek. “Save your breath, Hewitt. Your work isn’t done yet.”

  Who was this woman?

  Shane had met a lot of girls in his time. A few of them had let him bed them and most others were beyond uninterested. Some had been wallflowers and others were so strong they made him feel emasculated because he knew perfectly well they could kick his ass in a fight without breaking a nail.

  But the woman under him now was something entirely different.

  She shivered, the aftershock of her orgasm shuddering across her body. Possibly her first orgasm. He smiled at the idea he’d been able to give someone their first orgasm.

  “What’s so funny?” she asked.

  He dipped low, kissing the crook of her neck before moving his attention to her tightened nipple, sucking it between his teeth and lapping the sensitive skin until she was making the nonsensical noises he’d heard moments earlier.

  “Nothing funny here,” he replied with a playful growl. “This is serious business.”

  Shane reached over and pulled open the nightstand drawer, rooting around blindly for a condom. It may have been awhile, but a hopeful man was still always prepared. Siobhan watched him with detached interest, her warm hands exploring openly now, caressing his ass and moving to cup his balls. She gave a small squeeze, and he groaned.

  “Baby…if you want me to take care of that virginity problem of yours, play nice or I’m not going to be any good to you.”

  Siobhan’s eyes widened innocently and she released him, but her fingers still dusted playful touches against his shaft, and he didn’t miss the mischievous grin on her lips.

  Finding what he’d been looking for, he ripped the condom wrapper open and rolled it on himself so quickly he was almost impressed. Or he would have taken the time to be if there wasn’t a super-hot naked girl writhing under him who needed his loving touch to save her life.

  This was one story he’d never be able to retell. Who in their right mind would believe him if he said, I once got to play hero and save the day by fucking the virginity out of a stone-cold fox. Even thinking about it, he didn’t believe it and the girl in question was underneath him, looking at him expectantly.

  “Are you—?” he started to ask, but she pressed a finger to his lips.

  “I swear to God, Shane, if you ask me that one more time, I’ll just knock you out cold and ride your unconscious body until the job is done.”

  So much for being Mister Nice Guy. He didn’t want to miss the show, so he shut up.

  He nibbled her lower lip, and she raised her hips, grinding her bare pelvis into his. “I don’t mean to rush you,” she whispered, “but I want you inside me. Now. Please.”

  Shane didn’t need to be asked twice, not when the invitation was both sweet and filthy. He nudged her legs apart wider and looped his arms under hers so her head was cradled in his palms and his fingers were twined in her soft hair. Their faces were no more than an inch apart, and he watched her, his eyes open, as he angled himself at her opening. Her eyes widened when he slowly buried himself in her. When she gasped, he slowed even further, barely moving but not withdrawing.

  Siobhan closed her eyes and bit her lip. She was tight, so tight. But she was wet and she didn’t resist him. He groaned along with her, and she clawed at his back. Then she said the one thing he needed to hear the most. Just one sharp gasp but she cried, “More.”

  And he complied, withdrawing almost completely before thrusting hard into her until their bodies were as connected as they could be. He pulled out and repeated the process, meeting the arch of her hips and his breaths matching hers until they were both panting and slick with sweat.

  When she cried out again in a way he would dream about for months, they collapsed onto his creaky mattress, limbs woven together and sheets tangled around them.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  She gave a hoarse laugh. “I feel…like I would be useless as a virgin sacrifice.”

  Shane nipped her shoulder and teased her sensitive nipple by brushing his thumb over the rigid flesh. She looked over at him, and he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  “You still look a little untainted,” he said. “I think we might need to do it again, just to be sure.”

  With lives on the line, one could never play it too safe.

  Chapter Nine

  When Siobhan walked into her apartment the next morning, humming a song and smiling more than she thought she should have been, one thing was made abundantly clear.

  Having sex was not going to keep her from getting fucked.

  “Hello, Siobhan.” Her father was sitting on the end of her bed in the small space she rented in Hell’s Kitchen. “I’ve been waiting for you for quite some time.”

  She held her purse close, her hand dipping inside so her fingers could brush the smooth metallic surface of her bow. Though she didn’t think she’d be able to best her father in a one-on-one fight, it made her calmer to know her weapon was within reach.

  “Papa,” she said, shutting the door behind her.

  Eion O’Malley was a big man. Six and a half feet tall with a barrel chest and a bushy red beard, he looked more like a Viking warrior than a Gaelic gatekeeper. But more than anything he looked like a man you didn’t want to mess with, and Siobhan knew that wasn’t posturing. Her father was a dangerous man, and he had no soft spot in his heart for his only daughter. She was just another tool for him to use, and her usefulness was almost at an end, as far as he was concerned.

  “I believe you have a birthday coming up.”

  “You know I do.”

  “Then you know why I’m here. I’ve come to prepare you for the rit—”

  “I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to participate in the ritual, Papa.”

  “Nonsense, girl. It’s your duty, and you will do it.”

  Siobhan gripped the bow tightly when Eion got to his feet, towering over her, imposing his power by dwarfing her with his mammoth size. But this show was old news to Siobhan, and for once in her life she wouldn’t cower or back down.

  “No, I don’t think you understand, sir. I can’t be your sacrifice.”

  Eion looked flummoxed. “What utter foolishness are you prattling on about, child? Don’t try to play games. The ritual is important.”

  “The ritual is for you to sacrifice a virgin to appease the gate with her pure, virtuous blood.”

  “Yes, I know the ritual, Siobhan.”

  When she smiled at him and raised an eyebrow, realization dawned on her father’s ruddy face. His complexion grew red, his cheeks flushed with rage and when he spoke again, it was a bellow that rattled the room’s only window. “You foolish, useless girl. Do you have any concept of what you’ve done?”

  “I protected myself. From you.”

  “You’ve desecrated yourself. Laid waste to the one thing worthwhile about you.” Eion threw a punch at the wall next to her head, and the plaster split beneath his knuckles like it was made of tissue paper. In the instant it took for him to throw his posturing punch, Siobhan had pulled her bow from the purse along with a single arrow, and both were extended to their full size. It was all for show, of course—she hadn’t had time to string the bow—but the wire was wrapped around her wrist, and she was betting she might have enough time to loop it on before he threw another punch.

  “Tell me again how useless I am, Papa. I have guarded this gate by myself for a decade. Tell me what a disappointment I am as a warrior.” She dropped one of the wire loops to the floor, hooking it on the end of her bow without looking, then str
ung the other end on tightly with only the slightest pressure on the bow. “Because you haven’t been here. You don’t know a damned thing.”

  “You were never a warrior,” Eion huffed, unfazed by the loaded weapon in her hands. “You were only meant to be fodder, and now you can’t even do that right. I should have killed you when you were a babe.”

  Siobhan skirted him with her back to the wall until she was on the opposite side of the room with the bed between them.

  “I won’t be a pawn for the Claughdid anymore.”

  “You were born to be our pawn.”

  With an arrow aimed at his right kneecap, Siobhan struggled to keep her voice from wavering when she spoke again. “Go home. Go back to Belfast and tell the high council there won’t be any sacrifices in New York next week. I will continue to guard the gate like a true warrior of the clan, but I will not be your animal to slit open on the altar of tradition.”

  “You make a grand speech,” Eion scoffed. “But you’re wrong.”

  “About what?”

  “If you won’t be our willing virgin, we’re just going to find ourselves an unwilling one.”

  He yanked open the door, and when it slammed closed behind him, the entire room rattled.

  Night had settled over the city faster than usual, like a fist closing to trap a moth, all the light blotted out in minutes and not over the course of hours. Heavy, bloated rain clouds dotted the horizon, and streetlights came on an hour sooner than they would have otherwise.

  Siobhan wasn’t sure what she was doing out in the streets, but she knew something needed to be done to keep her father and his cohorts from kidnapping and murdering some poor, hapless girl. She’d wanted to save her own life. She’d never thought she’d be bartering someone else’s in the process.

  She wanted to call Shane. It had been her first instinct after her father had run out, but she’d told herself it wasn’t a good idea. When she’d disentangled herself from Shane’s arms earlier in the morning, she’d told herself that was it. His purpose had been served, and she wasn’t going to see him again.