Down & Dirty

by Ashley Johnson

  But on the other hand, it would be torture to go and have to pretend for two days that we’re just barely acquaintances. I know for a fact that other single people are coming to this retreat and if I have to watch Nixon flirt or some chick flirt with him for a weekend I might go ape shit on someone.

  But in the end I realize that we still have this agreement going on and while that is still in play, neither of us will be with anyone else.

  “Sure, if you want to drive together we can just split the cost of gas and food,” I offer.

  “Yeah and on the ride there you can give me multiple blow jobs because I offered to drive us,” he smirks.

  A slow smile spreads across my face.

  What a cocky asshole.

  Chapter 15

  I got a call from Harlow yesterday that one of her bridesmaids had a family emergency back east couldn’t make it to her wedding. She volunteered me to fill in the extra spot and I instantly agreed. I loved dressing up and looking pretty, and what woman doesn’t love a good wedding, right?

  Just because I was against relationships myself didn’t mean I wasn’t glad that Harlow had found someone to live her life with.

  So, after spending half the morning having last minute alterations made on the dress I was supposed to wear, I met with the groom and his groomsmen to see who I would be walking down the aisle with.

  “Hi, I’m Ben,” the best looking groomsman steps in front of me, thrusting his hand out.

  I take a quick second to examine him. He is quite a bit taller than me, maybe a few inches over six feet, with a lean body that looks super hot in his dark grey suit and lavender shirt. His hair is either a very dark brown or black, it’s hard to tell because it is shaved so closely to his scalp.

  He has a very handsome smile that sucks me in the second he turns it on and I can feel my mouth opening and closing with no sound escaping, but I can’t stop it. His dark brown eyes seem to look right through me. This dude is freaking hot. Not Nixon hot, but still hot.

  I finally have a moment of clarity and clear my throat before grabbing onto his hand.

  “I’m Emmie,” I grin and his responding smile takes on model worthy heights.

  “Well Emmie, looks like we’re paired together in the line.”

  Thank you dear God.

  “Really, well that’s good to hear,” I mumble, trying not to sound too affected by the utter sexiness of this man.

  “Very good,” he growls back. “So what do you do for a living, Emmie?” he asks.

  “I ride motocross with Harlow. We’re both sponsored by Black Bear but I’ve known her forever,” I explain and smile when I see the look of shock cross his face.

  “Really? You’re a rider?”

  “Um, yes?” I say, the answer coming out as more of a question because I’m not sure why this is so much of a shock.

  “I’m sorry, I’m just surprised that such a beautiful girl rides a motorcycle. You look more like a model than the down and dirty type,” he tells me.

  I raise my brows at his explanation and can’t stop myself from teasing him a bit.

  “Oh I’m the down and dirty type alright,” I give him what I hope is a devious smile and bite my lower lip. When he crosses his hands in front of his crotch, obviously trying to hide his arousal, I let out a small giggle.

  “Emmie, come on it’s about time to line up,” Harlow’s sister Willow pops her head into the room.

  “Okay,” I tell her and then turn back to Ben. “Well I guess I’ll see you in just a minute then.”

  Leaning down so his face is closer to mine he says, “you can bet on that Emmie” before I turn and walk away.

  After a few last minute preparations and a quick hair check for all the girls, we line up with our groomsmen and begin walking down the aisle.

  Halfway to the podium Ben bends his head closer to my ear and mumbles “you look beautiful in that dress by the way.”

  I dip my head down to look at my heather gray strapless tea length dress, and also to hide my blush, and whisper “thank you.” He flexes the bicep I’m holding onto in response and we both smile and focus on our walk.

  When we separate at the podium he smiles and winks at me and I smile back before turning my attention toward the reception doors where Harlow will be entering. For some reason I look into the crowd and my eyes instantly lock onto Nixon’s angered face.

  His eyes are narrowed on me and his lips are set in thin lines. He looks pissed off at me and I take a moment to feel bad about Ben and me flirting when all the sudden a woman with bleach blonde hair that is piled high on her head and a tiny red dress that barely contains her enormous breasts presses deep into his side.

  I raise an eyebrow and tilt my head at him and he has the sense to look a bit ashamed, but I’m upset about his attitude when he’s brought someone else so I turn my gaze to Harlow walking down the aisle and don’t give Nixon another ounce of my attention throughout the ceremony.

  When we’ve finally moved on to the reception my first stop is the bar to grab a drink, having a feeling that this will be necessary to get through tonight.

  I order a whiskey sour and before my drink arrives, I hear his voice behind me.

  “Who the fuck is that guy,” Nixon growls close to my ear, the closeness of his body radiating heat onto my back.

  I turn my head and see that he’s standing very close to me and I feel my entire body light up with lust, even though I’m pissed about his question.

  “Oh hi, Nixon, I didn’t realize you were coming to this wedding. How are you doing?” I ask in a sarcastic tone.

  “Cut the shit Em, who is that guy?” he whispers moving to my side, making it look like he’s sidled up to the bar like I am.

  “What the hell do you care, Nixon? You came here with another person so you have no right to ask who I’m talking to, now go find your date before her tits pop out of her dress and she doesn’t notice,” I grit out.

  His head jerks back in a slight flinch, but then a smartass grin appears before he turns his eyes down to the bar top.

  “Emmie Black, are you jealous?” he teases.

  “Of course I’m not jealous, you dick. We’ve been fuck buddies for almost two months and I haven’t been jealous of any of the bitches I’ve seen hanging off you,” I huff. I just feel tightness in my stomach when I see another woman grabbing all over him and a fury I’ve never felt before when they get to kiss him in public and I don’t. That’s not jealousy, is it?

  “Well I am,” he mutters, so quietly I almost don’t hear him. I turn my head to look at his face and his eyes automatically lock with mine. I see something I can’t name in his stare that makes my body feel warm and safe at the same time.

  “I don’t like the look that guy gave you out there because I should be the only person looking at you like that,” he says and then pulls his brows together, like he can’t believe he just said that out loud. He shakes his head and then the wall is built back up and he brings out the cocky bad boy smirk.

  “You look fuckin’ hot in that dress sugar,” he says close to my ear and I can feel the blush spread across my cheeks, even though I’m upset he can just switch his emotions so quickly. Well if that’s how he wants to play it, then that’s what I’ll do too.

  I put every ounce of focus into playing like I don’t care, just like him.

  “Thanks Nixon, you look nice too. You didn’t tell me you were bringing a date,” I say as I scan his black button up shirt that has the sleeves rolled to the elbows and tan dress slacks with black Chucks. He looks dressed up, but not like he was trying too hard.

  He opens his mouth, probably to defend himself, but just then I feel someone standing behind me. I turn my head to see Ben admiring my ass. I turn the rest of my body, breaking the staring contest he was having with my southern cheeks and smile at him.

  “Hi Ben, can I help you with something?” I tease.

  He clears his throat and gives me a nervous smile back. “I was just wondering if you
would like to dance, Emmie,” he asks and holds his hand out.

  I shoot a quick glance to my right and see Nixon giving Ben the death glare before he looks away, but nod my head at Ben. Nixon can be pissed all he wants. He’s my fuck buddy, not my boyfriend, and he has no say on what I do.

  I reach my hand out toward Ben’s outstretched one, ready to walk away, when Nixon grabs onto my bicep and pulls me a bit closer to him so he can whisper in my ear.

  “I’m going to fuck you in that dress tonight. I’ll find you,” he tells me and then turns to walk away.

  I sit in the same position, staring at Nixon’s retreating back, but quickly snap back to reality when I see the dim witted blonde moto ho he brought as a date move in and start pawing all over him again. My eyes move to Ben who is now switching his gaze between me and Nixon.

  “Is something going on between you two? Because I can step back,” he says hesitantly.

  I start waving my hands in front of my face like some lunatic, trying to answer him with queues because I’m still so pissed about the other girl that I might just scream. Finally I take a deep breath and look into Ben’s eyes before I answer.

  “No, there is nothing going on between Nixon and me. We just have the same sponsor and things can become heated between us because we’re both so competitive.” Jesus, if that wasn’t the understatement of the year, I don’t know what is.

  Ben seems a bit leery, but relents and extends his hand to me once more.

  “Okay then, how about that dance?”

  Chapter 16

  After hours of dancing, drinking, and catching up with some people that I haven’t seen in years, I’m exhausted, but the bride and groom haven’t left yet and I think the wedding party is supposed to wait until after they’re gone before the wedding party is allowed to leave.

  So I suck it up for Harlow and her new husband Ryan.

  I’m very surprised that Nixon is still here, though. The party is still in full swing because it is an open house reception, but he’s been here for at least three hours and I’m not sure why. Most people come, say hello, have a drink or two and then leave.

  Not Nixon. He’s been conversing with lots of different people and shucking off his leech of a date all while keeping a close eye on me. I only know he’s keeping a close eye on me because I’m doing the same with him.

  After talking with Ben and Ryan about their honeymoon, I excuse myself to go the restroom.

  After I’ve done my business, I unlock the bathroom door and attempt to walk out but don’t even get one foot across the threshold before I feel a hand at my waist pushing me back in.

  I look up and see Nixon with a determined and lust filled look on his face.

  “What are you doing?” I ask a bit breathlessly, but already know what he has planned when I hear the lock click over on the door.

  “I don’t know how much longer I can take watching that dick put his hands all over you before I punch him in the fucking face,” he grits out.

  “Oh come on, really?” I ask incredulously.

  “What?”

  “If I have to watch that stick figure with huge tits climb all over you for one more fucking second I’m going to scream,” I say through clenched teeth.

  He chuckles at me and then steps closer, forcing me to take a tentative step back. Before I know it, my ass is pressed against the sink ledge and Nixon has wrapped his hands around my waist.

  “I told you I was going to fuck you in that dress, didn’t I sugar,” he mumbles against my neck and then nips at my ear lobe.

  I’m becoming so turned on that I can’t even answer him back. I just mewl and reach my hands up to play with the short hair resting at the base of his skull.

  He grabs onto my hips and lifts, placing me on the counter before spreading my legs apart so he can step between them. Then he trails his hands to my thighs where he begins to slowly inch my bridesmaid dress higher.

  “What are you doing Nixon,” I whisper against his chest, my eyes closed so I can focus on his smell and what his fingers are doing against my upper thighs.

  “Just making sure you know who this pussy belongs to, baby.”

  His words should piss me off, but for some reason they have the opposite effect and I can feel myself getting wetter by the second. My breathing has picked up at an embarrassing rate and my fingers feel as if they’re trying to dig a hole to China through his shoulders.

  “Who does this delicious pussy belong to Emmie?” he asks while trailing two fingers along my barely there, and now soaked, lace panties.

  All I can do is pant like I’m walking through the desert and haven’t had water in days. He needs to touch me now or I’ll fucking kill him.

  “Who baby?” he says again and pushes my panties aside to slide his long middle finger inside me, making me moan loudly.

  “Tell me what I want to hear or I’ll stop,” he threatens.

  “You, it belongs to you,” I breathe out.

  “Damn right it does,” he acknowledges and then inserts another finger and starts moving them faster into my channel.

  I lean my body backward, feeling my head hit the mirror behind me and then move my hands to the edge of the counter and hold on so tight I’m sure my knuckles have turned white.

  “Jesus baby, you are so fucking sexy and so wet. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my dick.”

  His free hand digs into my hip while the fingers he has inside me have slowed a bit and have started curling inward, hitting that spot that makes me explode.

  “Oh shit, I’m about to come,” I whisper breathlessly and then release a few high pitched moans.

  “Yeah, come all over my fingers and then I’m going to make you come again with my cock,” he tells me, the fire in his eyes combined with him rubbing his thumb over my clit causing me to fall over the edge.

  He moves his fingers slowly inside me while I’m coming down and gives me a small smile every time my inner walls squeeze his fingers.

  When he finally removes them I can’t wait any longer to have him inside me. I reach for the button on his pants, but once I have that and the zipper down, a knock comes at the door.

  “Nixon, are you in there?” a high pitched, whiney voice asks on the other side.

  Nixon’s body leans forward and he places his forehead on my shoulder.

  “Shit,” he mutters.

  I know I need to stop this before we take it any further and we don’t have a chance to discuss the rules of our relationship. Nixon telling me that he’s going to hurt a guy I didn’t even come here with and then making me tell him my pussy belonged to him aren’t acceptable in this arrangement.

  At least I got something out of tonight. I take a deep breath and wrap my hands around the back of his head.

  “Go, I’ll hide out in here so she doesn’t know what was going on,” I whisper in his ear, trying to keep my tone light, but inside my heart feels like it just fell into my foot knowing that he’s leaving me to go to her. He just nods against my shoulder until the annoying voice asks again.

  “Nixon? Is that you in there? Come on, I want to go dance.” I can see her pout through the damned door and suddenly it takes everything I have to hold in the laughter that is bubbling just below the surface.

  Nixon pulls his head off my shoulder and looks at me. Then he sees how hard I’m trying to keep myself silent.

  “Don’t you dare,” Nixon barely growls at me, trying to hide his own smile. “Yeah, I’m in here. Give me just a sec, okay?” he tells the door.

  “I’ll be right here waiting,” she coos.

  “I bet you will,” I mutter under my breath. Nixon digs his hands into my hips tightly, warning me, before he tucks his shirt back into his pants and buttons himself up.

  When he’s finished straightening himself out, he leans forward and touches his forehead to mine.

  “You look too damn sexy in that dress for me not to enjoy you. I’m going to be inside you tonight if it kills me,” he whispers and
then places a small kiss on my lips before helping me off the sink basin and pushing me behind the door before he opens it.

  “Is someone else in there with you,” whiney chick asks in a pitch only dogs should be able to hear.

  “No, no one is in there with me. I was taking a piss for hell sakes,” he tells her in an angry tone.

  “Oh, okay. I just thought I heard you talking to someone in there,” she says, sounding apologetic.

  “Nope. I’m here with you and you only, sugar,” he says in a sweet tone and my stomach drops. I can see them smiling at each other through the crack in the door and feel like I’m going to throw up. I thought I was the only person he called sugar.

  After a few minutes of sitting in an empty bathroom, stewing on Nixon’s words while trying to keep from squirming in my wet panties, I open the door and head straight for the bar. I need the bride and groom to leave now so I can go home and pretend that five minutes ago didn’t just happen.

  Or an even better option would be to punch Nixon right in the nose.

  Ten minutes into my drinking binge I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see Nixon with his hand out toward me.

  “Emmie, can I have this dance?” he asks with the same sweet smile he just gave his trashy date. Now that he’s close, the option to punch him in the nose may just become a reality.

  Instead I take a deep breath and give him my hand. As I follow him onto the dance floor The Civil Wars start singing.

  We sway in silence for a few seconds before Nixon steps in closer to me so he can whisper in my ear.

  “You okay sugar?”

  I pull back and look at him, wishing I could squeeze his neck until his head popped off.

  “No Nixon, I’m as far from okay as I can be right now.”.

  “Why? What happened? Was it that dick that’s been hitting on you?”

  I let out humorless laugh because he’s the only dick that I can think of right now.

  “No, this problem is completely aimed at you, King,” I tell him and look away, but not before I see his head jerk back an inch.

  “Why, what the fuck did I do?”

  “I heard what you said outside of that bathroom, Nixon,” I tell him and look back at his face for his reaction. A smile spreading across his face isn’t the reaction I was expecting.