Down & Dirty

by Ashley Johnson

  If only that was what happened when he saw Nixon.

  When I pull into the indoor arena that houses the Black Bear track, I find a parking spot right next to the entrance gates and back in so Otis can sit in the bed and watch like he’s done a million times before. I smile and wave when I spot Collin

  Then I take my time unloading my 450cc from the back of my truck and make sure that my protective gear is on before I put on my boots and helmet.

  When everything is in place and I feel like I am ready for this ride, I tell Otis to wait in the bed, something that he’s done every other time I’ve told him, and push my bike to the entrance of the indoor track. I throw my leg over to straddle my bike and prepare to take the first run of the day when the most aggravating, and sexy, voice rasps into my helmet covered ear.

  “Nice to see you here today sugar,” Nixon drawls.

  I have to grit my teeth to force myself not to turn toward him and look into his annoyingly handsome face. If I do, I might jump his gorgeous body without another thought.

  I haven’t been able to get him out of my head since he took it upon himself to sign my breast. I have been waging war in my head as to whether I should smack the shit out of him or rent us a hotel for the night so I can find out if he’s as good as his sexy voice suggests he would be.

  I was even obsessing about him enough to put the picture he took of us as the background picture on my phone, only to change it to a picture of Otis five minutes later when I remembered how long it took me to scrub that marker off my body. I may need to seek help.

  “Nixon, I’m about to take a run and I really need to focus. What do you need?” I ask keeping my eyes focused on the track instead of him in an attempt to keep my sanity. After a few seconds of silence I make the mortal mistake of turning my eyes toward him.

  Now I can’t look away.

  He’s standing next to me wearing a white Black Bear t-shirt and a pair of black riding pants tucked into his white riding boots. His hair looks a bit wet, whether it’s with sweat or just out of the shower I’m not sure.

  But it’s those determined brown eyes that are killing me slowly. He’s looking at me like I am his last meal and he ordered only his favorites. He licks his lower lip slowly before sinking his top teeth into it and I feel a slight tugging in my lower belly with the action.

  He releases his lip and gives me a cocky smile, like he knows what he’s done to me with that slight movement alone.

  “I don’t need anything, Emmie, unless of course, you want to get your fine ass off that bike and come straddle me instead,” he smirks.

  I shake my head slowly, trying to make him think that I’m turning down his offer, when I’m in fact trying to shake those images out of my mind so I’m not tempted to do exactly as he’s asking.

  “In your dreams buddy,” I finally spit out, an octave higher and two times louder than my normal voice.

  “You’re right,” he says before he gives my ass cheek a light pinch and then walks away.

  My mind goes fuzzy and certain body parts start to tingle as I watch him move from the track down to his very large truck. Unable to stop myself, I start seeing images of me straddling him in a bed, riding him hard.

  When Nixon opens his driver’s side door he lets out a loud, high pitched whistle and slaps his thigh twice almost every head in the area turns to look at him and my mind snaps back to the present.

  “Here boy,” Nixon yells. I pull my eyebrows together, trying to figure out what the hell he’s doing, when I see the black and white flash that is Otis take off in his direction in my peripheral vision. What the-

  “Otis!” I shout, the sound a bit muffled from my helmet, but it doesn’t do any good.

  Otis is already sitting in the passenger seat of Nixon’s truck, his head sticking out of the open window and his tongue hanging out like he’s hit the doggie jackpot.

  My mouth drops open on its own accord. Otis has never gone with anyone other than me. He doesn’t even let the guys around the tracks we ride at pet him, and that traitor just jumps into Nixon’s truck like they’re best friends?

  Nixon shoots what looks like a smug smile in my direction and then starts his truck and drives out of the building.

  Well son of a bitch, that sexy jerk just stole my dog!

  * *

  When I have finished up my runs and pull up along the fence to speak to Collin and the one remaining big wig named Mr. Dugard, they are both sporting huge smiles.

  “Wow Emmie, I’m very impressed with how you handle yourself on the track,” Mr. Dugard exclaims.

  I remove my helmet and tuck it under my arm before acknowledging him. “Thank you, Sir,” I say in a semi excited tone. My mind is still focused on the fact Nixon still hasn’t come back with my dog and I have a sinking feeling I will never see that double crosser Otis again.

  “I’ve been talking to your manager here and we would be honored to offer you a yearlong contract with the option to add five years if your season goes well. What do you say to that, young lady?” he questions.

  That gets my full attention. I snap my eyes over to Collin, whose eyes were open as wide as they can go but is only wearing a small smile. I smile back and nod when no sound will come out of my mouth.

  “Great. We’ll get all the details worked out and have quite a few things you’ll need to sign. Welcome to the team, Miss Black,” Mr. Dugard nods and turns to walk away.

  “Holy shit, Em, can you believe it?” Collin beams once Dugard is out of ear shot. I shake my head slowly, still unable to speak. He leans over the fence and awkwardly wraps his arms around my shoulders in a tight squeeze. He pulls away still smiling.

  “Okay, well I’m going to go see what else they’ll need from us before I head home and tell Jaycee the awesome news. Congrats, Emmie, really. You were amazing out there and you deserve this contract,” Collin marvels and then turns to walk away.

  I sit stunned by the fence for a few minutes before I hear someone behind me.

  “Emmie Black? What are you doing here? I didn’t know you rode for Black Bear,” the female voice says.

  I turn my upper body around so I can get a better look at who’s talking to me. I smile when I see that it’s Harlow Carter. She’s also a motocross rider, one I’ve actually raced against quite a few times, and a sweet girl.

  We’ve become pretty close while competing against each other and I would say she’s the only girl I’ve let get close to me in years. Harlow is one of the sweetest and most sincere girls I’ve ever met. Her naturally blonde hair hangs to the middle of her back in loose waves and her light blue eyes pop against her skin’s flawless tan. She’s a bit shorter than I am, but makes up for her height with a personality that stands out in any room. Once you meet her you have no choice but to love her.

  “Hey Harlow, it’s good to see you again. I actually just got a one year contract to ride for Black Bear about two minutes ago. Looks like we’ll be racing for the same team now,” I giggle excitedly when Harlow smiles widely at me.

  “Yay, I’m so glad you’re here. We need more girls around here,” she jokes and looks out to the track around us. That’s when I notice that Harlow and I are the only girls surrounded by about twelve men running the indoor track.

  “We aren’t the only girls racing for Black Bear, are we?” I ask. Harlow gives me a reassuring smile and shakes her head.

  “No, there are maybe four or five others. We were all actually planning to go out for my bachelorette party either tonight or tomorrow night. I tried to call you about a month ago to see get your address and send you an invitation, but you didn’t answer. I don’t know if you know this but I’m getting married in a few weeks and I’ve invited everyone from the track so I’ll bring you an invitation soon.” I nod because I had heard that she was getting married and I couldn’t be happier for her.

  “Do you want to join us for drinks?” she asks.

  “I would love to tonight, but I think my day is going to consist of hours
of paperwork,” I say pointing toward Collin and the stack of papers that he’s holding onto as he walks out the doors of the office building.

  “I totally understand. How about we do it tomorrow night? Would that work for you?”

  I quickly think about anything I have going on. I don’t need to take Otis for a walk now because my two timing dog just took off with the sexy enemy, and my dad is going camping with some friends, so other than finding out Nixon’s phone number to get my mutt back as soon as possible, my weekend is cleared.

  I nod and tell myself that I need a night out of the house and a chance to get drunk and possibly laid. It had been a few months, even before I was in my casts, since I’d been in the sack with a dick that wasn’t battery operated and an itch was spreading under my skin to get someone real between my legs.

  Oh hell yeah, I was going to go out and celebrate my new contract, and Harlow’s wedding, with some familiar faces and a little bit of lovin’.

  Chapter 5

  After almost six hours of reading through in depth paperwork and dinner with Collin and Jaycee to celebrate my new sponsor, I went home well after dark and crashed like I hadn’t slept in years. I had gotten Nixon’s manager’s number from a receptionist so I could get Otis back, but I was so tired that I forgot to call.

  Now I am up and have almost twelve hours before I’d have to get ready to go out to a bachelorette party with Harlow and her friends. I called Nixon’s manager, but it went to voicemail. Hopefully I hear back from him soon.

  I decide to take a long bath in my awesome jetted tub, which works wonders on days when I’ve pulled a muscle or jacked up some part of my body while riding. In this case a long day of hand cramps from signing my name too many times and a serious headache from struggling to keep my mind off Nixon King are the cause of stiff muscles.

  After I get out and dry my body off, I come to the conclusion that it today a naked house day.

  I don’t have anyone planning on coming over and Otis isn’t here to give me that awkward dog look when I ran past him as fast as I can so he doesn’t see my nudity, which is why I normally avoided naked house day. Even having the dog question why I didn’t have clothes on was enough for me to cover myself up.

  So, after plugging my iPod into the surround sound system that is linked throughout my house and cranking on some AC/DC, my dad’s favorite band, I decide to make myself some breakfast and just chill.

  I am making my way out of my office and into the kitchen, dancing like a total loon and letting my boobs bounce up and down with my movements, when something out of the corner of my eye catches my attention.

  My head snaps to the right where someone is standing against the sliding glass door, hands framed around their face making their features dark, and they are looking right at me.

  I let out an ear piercing scream and cover all the vital parts of my body as I run closer to the person and hide behind the kitchen island about ten feet away.

  Here I have kitchen towels that I can use to cover my breasts and hoohah and there is also an array of butcher knives and cleavers that I can use as weapons.

  My brain never once thought to turn around and run toward my bedroom where I had actual clothes and my cell phone. Stupid brain.

  I peak over the top of the island to see if the peeping tom is still peeping and gasp when I see that he, in fact, is still there but has removed his hands from around his face and I can now properly see him.

  Nixon fucking King.

  I shoot straight up from my hiding spot, ready to tear him a new ass hole then remember that I am still naked. I throw a hand across my breasts and hold up one finger from my free hand, telling him to give me a damn minute.

  He smirks at me and then nods once. The index finger I had in the air to indicate I needed a second has now switched to another finger, one that suggests something completely different.

  I cover up my snatch, which I realize at that moment needs a serious waxing, and then dart out from behind my safe zone toward my bedroom.

  As soon as I make it in there, I throw on a black tank top and some tiny mesh running shorts, in too much of a hurry to kick Nixon’s ass to be bothered with underwear, then march my way through my house to the sliding door off my kitchen and dining area.

  I take a hard look at him as I make my way toward the door. He has a mix of humor and hunger in his eyes as his perfectly white upper teeth hold his lower lip captive. The white tank top that shows off the smooth skin of his muscled biceps is not helping me stay in an angry snit. Instead I want to trace every line on his skin with my tongue.

  I shake my head, mad with myself for finding him hot in a time like this. The dick is creeping in my windows for hell sakes and I’m ready to rip his clothes off and have a three day camp out in my bedroom.

  When I have the door flung open, I pull my hand back and whack Nixon on the shoulder with more force than probably necessary.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, King?” I grit out and smack him a few more times for good measure, causing him to chuckle as he hides his face behind his forearms.

  “Jesus sugar, if I would have known you were into the rough stuff, I might have come after you sooner,” he jokes as he takes a wide step around me to avoid my fists flying at him once more.

  Once he is inside and I close the sliding glass door, I turn on him.

  “Seriously Nixon, what the hell were you doing looking through my back door like some sort of creeper? And how the hell did you know where I live in the first place?”

  “I tried knocking on your front door a few times, but your damn music is so loud that I don’t think you heard it,” he chuckles as the music changes from AC/DC to P!nk singing about being a slut.

  Perfect.

  “Okay, so you’re here, what do you want? Did you bring Otis back?” I ask, very confused as to why he’s in my kitchen right now.

  “Well, I came to see if you were up for a little afternoon delight,” he deadpans.

  Wow, forward much? I know I was just thinking about jumping his bones, but a guy that thinks he can bag every woman within a ten mile radius by smiling alone is a bit of a turn off for me.

  Who the hell is this guy and why does he think I would sleep with him when I don’t know a fucking thing about him other than how he rides and how cocky he is. This means he’s probably the type of guy to turn around and tell all his friends that he nailed me and move on.

  No thanks. I don’t really feel like having my sexual history spread around people I work with constantly.

  “You’re joking, right?” I ask, with a disbelieving giggle threatening to escape my mouth.

  When he shakes his head, telling me that he isn’t joking with me, I get pissed.

  “Please tell me you’re joking me right now, because, up until a few weeks ago when you called me a moto ho and signed my tit like a douche bag, you had no fucking clue who I was. Now that I’ve explained who I am and that I have no fucking interest in your breed of asshole, you’re showing up at my house uninvited, peeking through my windows like some sort of creeper, and asking me to have a quick afternoon fuck?” The amount of anger in my voice rises with each word.

  He takes a step back and eyes me up and down slowly before shaking his head and answering me in a calm voice.

  “Alright, I deserved that one,” he agrees “but I think you’re sexy as all hell and we both know that I’m hot,” he adds pointing to his chest and smiling.

  “At least you’re not full of yourself,” I mumble making the smile spread across his face to the point that it lights up my entire house. Damn it, my walls of anger are crumbling around me and I’m thinking of fucking him again.

  “I’m just messing with you Emmie. I would totally love to hook up with you right now, but I can see that you aren’t totally sold on the idea. I’ll give you the day to think about it and then you can get back to me tonight,” he tells me before walking through my kitchen and opening the fridge. He grabs a water bottle out and t
hen walks around me to my front door, while I follow him like a fucking puppy dog the entire way.

  As soon as he opens the door and crosses my threshold, I remember that he was in my back yard.

  “How did you get in my back yard, Nixon?”

  “I opened the gate,” he tells me in a ‘hello, dumb ass’ tone, making me narrow my eyes at him. He chuckles at my death gaze and then speaks again.

  “Take the day to relax and get things smoothed downstairs and then I’ll find you.” Then he winks at me and reaches out to quickly tweak my nipple before turning and walking away.

  I’m so stunned about the entire encounter that I don’t realize what he said about smoothing things out downstairs until he’s in his truck. I don’t have a basement in my house, so that can only mean he was talking about in between my legs.

  I can feel the blush creeping across my cheeks. The thought of Nixon actually seeing my nether regions in the state they’re in at the moment is really embarrassing.

  I snap back into myself and cross my arms as I watch Nixon start his truck and back up.

  Well, first thing I need to do with my free time today is to put a lock on that vinyl gate to my back yard, then I need to get some curtains for my sliding glass door or just avoid naked house day for the rest of my life.

  It’s only after he pulls out of my driveway I remember that he never told me how he found out where I live.

  And he still has my dog.

  That damned sexy asshole.

  Chapter 6

  I walk into a bar in the center of our small town called Tom’s around ten thirty and realize that this isn’t like those trendy bars and clubs that people my age and younger like to go to.

  This place is dark and has a bit of that seedy feel to it, and I’m sure that Harlow, me, and our group of friends might be the youngest people in here by at least ten years, but this is where she chose to go because her uncle owns the place and can get us cheaper drinks.

  As soon as my eyes adjust to the dimness of the room I immediately see Harlow’s hand fly into the air to catch my attention. I smile at the shiny tiara with a small sign that states she’s the ‘Bride to Be’ on her head and walk toward her and a group of girls. Most of them I know and have raced at one point or another.