Down & Dirty_Zak

by Jeanne St. James

  “Yeah, she’s the only one. I promise.”

  “My business can’t be at risk. Neither can my life.”

  He blinked slowly, and then touched his nose to hers, murmuring, “Don’t want to risk you, either. Don’t think I can live without you.”

  All the oxygen left her lungs, her chest ached, her heart thumped all the way up into her throat.

  “You don’t know me, Zak,” she whispered shakily.

  “Keep tellin’ you I know you.” He pressed a flat palm to his heart. “Know you here.”

  Oh, God, he was killing her. “I don’t know you, either.”

  “You do. But that’s why I’m askin’ for time. Take those three weeks, babe. Get to know me. You happy at the end, great. You’re not, fine, I’ll go.”

  She studied him, he was trying desperately to hide his emotions. But she could see it. In his expression, in his eyes. That uncertainty was there. Here was a man who liked to take what he wanted, not have to ask, or even beg. This was going against the very fiber of his being.

  This was costing him.

  He wanted her that much.

  And, goddamn, that ripped her in two. Tore at her heart, spun her mind.

  And deep down, she suspected there was fear, though he’d never admit it. Fear that someone else wouldn’t want him in their life.

  Shit he had to deal with for most of his life since the day he decided to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps. For most people, the family would see that as an honor. For his, not so much. In fact, not at all.

  He took one fork in the road, they took the other. Which one would she follow? The question was, which one should she follow?

  And once again, her heart and her head warred. “Three weeks?”

  His nostrils flared and his body got tight as he anticipated her answer. “Yeah, babe. Just three.”

  “You got it. But you will honor my decision at that point.”

  His body relaxed, and a spark flashed in his eyes. “Yeah.” He leaned closer, pressing their mouths together, touching the tip of his tongue to hers for a moment. Before it could intensify, he pulled away reluctantly, giving her a grin. “Now I gotta go.”

  He rolled from the bed, grabbing his clothes, quickly pulling them on. And as she watched him cover his body, shrug on his cut, she observed all that softness she just witnessed disappear as he became Z the badass biker, instead of Zak the thoughtful lover.

  He leaned over the bed, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and whispered, “Tonight.” Then he was gone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After three weeks, she didn’t stop him from coming at night. After six weeks, she didn’t turn him away, either. As promised, he disappeared during the day, doing whatever badass bikers did. Sometimes he’d sneak in around dinner just in time for her to make him a plate. Other times, he’d crawl into bed after midnight, smelling faintly of beer.

  Never drunk, though. No.

  And he never pushed her. Not once.

  Now it was warm enough, he wanted to take her out on his bike. But he refused to bring it to her place, to park it behind the bakery. He wouldn’t risk it.

  So the car he bought, the one no one knew was his, remained parked in the back lot, as they climbed into her car and he drove it to a storage unit about five miles out of town.

  This, what he told her, was where he stored the car during the day, came and picked it up, swapping it out with that “piece of shit” he still borrowed from some brother named Crash, to drive over to her place every night. She was touched at the effort to keep her safe. To keep her from getting entangled in the club’s “beefs.”

  But it was soon time to shit or get off the pot.

  Either she wanted to be with him without hiding or she didn’t.

  Again, it wasn’t something he pushed. However, it was something that gnawed at her.

  He deserved better. Especially since his family treated him like a pariah. That ate at her, too. She didn’t want to do the same thing.

  So now, instead of driving the POS, he lived on his bike. When they parked her car in front of a unit, he unlocked the padlock and shoved the door up and open.

  And there it sat. His pride and joy.

  It was beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the man who rounded it, threw a leg over and then hit the starter.

  The bike growled to a start and Sophie covered her ears because the echo of what he called straight pipes roared around her, amplified in the small concrete space. Though, he also told her, that space was bigger than the one he’d lived in for the last ten years.

  He duck walked the bike out of the storage unit and once it was out in the dark of the night, she could understand the appeal of what sat between his legs. She had to admit it was one hot, badass bike to match her hot, badass lover. The deep rumble vibrated through her all the way to her bones. Her blood began to rush at the rich sound and the look of satisfaction on Zak’s face. He tilted his head back toward the unit and yelled over the exhaust.

  “Lid, babe. Gotta wear it.”

  The helmet. He had explained, while he could go without, she couldn’t. Not yet. And since she’d never been on the back of a bike before, she agreed it might be for the best.

  “But once you feel that wind in your hair, babe, it’ll be in your blood. So bear with the lid for now,” he had said on the drive over.

  After grabbing the full-faced helmet from inside the unit, she pulled it on, while he slipped on goggles. Then he helped her adjust the chin strap, making sure it was snug before holding an arm out for her to grab for balance as she climbed on behind him.

  After tying one bandana around his head and one around his neck, he reached behind him, snagged her wrists and wrapped her arms around him tightly, saying, “Hold on as tight as you can, don’t wanna lose you.”

  She didn’t want to lose him, either. And she didn’t mind hugging him close, pressing her now hard-tipped nipples into his back, skootching her crotch tight to his ass.

  He reached back, squeezed her thigh and turned his head to say, “If you let it, the bike might get you off,” before pulling the skull bandana from around his neck over his lower face.

  What? What did he mean? How was that even possible?

  There was no point in answering through the closed helmet, so she just nodded as if he made sense and then he took off.

  After a few miles, the butterflies in her belly disappeared, and she relaxed enough to enjoy the ride.

  It seemed they rode forever. Out into the dead of night, into the country, through a few small towns where the traffic was quiet, the residents asleep. But they weren’t. They were wide awake, feeling alive, enjoying the warm weather, enjoying their close contact.

  Now she understood his tattoo that read “Ride to live, live to ride.” She could understand how it could get into your blood. The feeling of freedom, the power between your legs. She couldn’t imagine him living without this for a decade.

  The longer they rode, the more she became one with the bike and Zak, and then it hit her what he meant earlier, because she was hit with it. The rumble of the engine vibrated up between her thighs, making her throb, making her want him badly. But they were too far out, and she doubted he would pull over or that they could find a private spot to take care of her needs. So she squeezed her eyes shut, pressed her helmet to his back harder, and slipped her hands lower until she cupped him tight. He dropped one hand to hers as she began to rub him through his jeans, feeling him grow beneath her fingers, until she panted in her helmet, steaming up the face shield.

  Then it hit her.

  The orgasm ripped through her and she cried out, her fingers clenching around him, making him tense.

  The bike swerved as he pulled off into the parking lot of a closed park, brought the bike to an abrupt halt, kicked down the kickstand and jumped off, ripping down the bandana from his face. He tugged her helmet’s straps loose and pulled it from her, setting it on the ground.

  Then he grabbed her face in both h
ands and kissed her hard, crushing his mouth to hers, making her groan down his throat.

  “Fuck, babe.”

  “It happened,” she said, still a little surprised it did.

  “I know. Harley’s the best and biggest vibrator out there, babe.”

  “That’s for damn sure.”

  “Now you got me worked up,” he said, rubbing his fingers over his bulging zipper.

  “What are we going to do about it?”

  He glanced around the lot. Since it was the middle of the night and the park was officially closed, the place was empty. “Always wanted to fuck on my bike.”

  Sophie’s eyes widened. She’d never had sex in a public place. Never even had sex outside. And definitely not on the back of a bike.

  “How far are we away from home?”

  “Way too far.”

  “I was afraid of that. Is it doable?”

  Funny that he understood exactly what she meant. “Yeah,” his voice rumbled deep from within his chest, sort of like the bike’s straight pipes. “Get off the bike.”

  When she hesitated, because she was trying to figure out in her head how they were going to pull it off, he said, “Off. Now. Hurry.”

  She bit her bottom lip trying not to giggle at his impatience.

  “Next time, you’re wearin’ a short skirt so you can ride me while I’m still on the bike.”

  She didn’t think a short skirt was very smart to wear on a bike. In fact, she would probably end up flashing all her goodies to everyone as they rode. But she’d argue that point later. They had some other urgent business to attend to first.

  “Pants and panties to your knees. Now.”

  At the same time she was scrambling to do as she was told, he was pushing his jeans down far enough to frame his hard-on, then ripping a condom out of his big-assed leather and chain wallet to roll it on.

  “Hands on the seat. Stretch your arms and ass out. Careful of the pipes, the engine. They’ll burn you. Serious, babe. Gimme your ass, keep your legs away.”

  Just the heat rolling off the bike made it clear how serious a burn she would get if she touched any hot metal with her bare flesh. She bent over, planted her hands on the seat and pushed out, offering herself to him.

  And within seconds… he took her. Hard, fast, rough, fingers digging into her hips, hips slapping against her ass, grunting with every stroke as he fucked her from behind. She couldn’t come like this but she’d already had her climax. Now it was his turn. But he reached around her and touched her where she needed it the most, where the vibrations from the engine had made her most sensitive.

  Almost as fast as their first night together months ago, they both came, tensing and crying out at the same moment, their bodies releasing and pulsing together. They stayed connected until the aftershocks stopped and their breathing slowed. Then he bent over, placed a kiss above her ass and slipped out of her. He disposed of the condom in a nearby receptacle, pulled up his jeans, and when he returned to the bike, he said, “Let’s ride.”

  Yes, she thought, let’s. She never would have guessed that riding on the back of a motorcycle could be so satisfying.

  Now she was cluing in on why so many women hung around the club, hung around these men. She didn’t blame them one bit.

  “Babe, you just made ridin’ my Harley so much sweeter,” he said over his shoulder. “Thank you for that.”

  She smiled, pulled on her helmet, and wrapped her arms around her man. “You’re welcome.”

  He chuckled, shook his head, yanked his bandana back up, pulled down his goggles, and off they went.

  Shit or get off the pot. It was a decision she had avoided for over six weeks. And she couldn’t jerk him around any longer.

  Tonight made her realize that she either had to give him his freedom or step into the role of being his ol’ lady. See and be seen. Have his back. Or let him live his life and find someone else who could do just that.

  As they rode back into the night, she knew her decision had already been made.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Zak pulled the bike to the front of the bakery. Sophie could see Bella inside waiting on a customer. It was nice to have her there full-time now, her first actual paid employee. It gave her time to do silly stuff like this... Go to lunch on the back of a badass Harley with her badass, but freaking hot biker boyfriend.

  He planted his boots on the pavement, backed the bike to the curb and kicked the stand down.

  She slipped off her helmet AKA brain bucket. Yes, she had her very own now. A badass black one with a tinted face shield so she could go incognito. Not that she needed to. They hadn’t been hiding their relationship for the last month.

  And so far, everything was quiet in Shadow Valley, for the most part.

  Well, except for the wild-assed pig roasts, and parties that happened way too often. So often, that most times they didn’t even show up at the clubhouse for them, preferring the quiet of her apartment. Well, not so quiet when he had her screaming with orgasms. Not to mention, his grunting could get a little loud.

  A smile curved her lips.

  The sex was hot, her man was hot, and the business at the bakery was picking up. She might even have to hire a second employee soon.

  “You gonna sit back there an’ daydream or you gonna get your sweet ass off an’ get to makin’ me one of those chocolate cakes with those chocolate curly things on the top?”

  Her man had a sweet tooth. Especially loved anything chocolate. But then, that shouldn’t have surprised her since his brother did as well.

  Though, now she was pretty sure Axel was sweet on Bella, too.

  “We going to the party tonight?” she asked him as she dismounted the bike, trailing her fingers along the back of his neck as she did so.

  “Band’s gonna be there,” he said as he got off the bike and stood next to it.

  “Dirty Deeds?”

  “Yeah.”

  Well, there was her answer. They’d be at least hitting the party for a couple hours. Nash, one of the brothers, played the drums in the AC/DC cover band and whenever they played one of the roasts or parties, most of the brothers showed up. At least, the ones that weren’t working or doing security at the strip club or The Iron Horse. They usually set up a camera with a live feed into the bar so the patrons could enjoy the music, too. But they made sure the lens only focused closely on the band and not some of the debauchery that happened out in the courtyard. Like the head jobs by the fence given by some of the “sweet butts,” the biker groupies who wanted to be more than just that. Or the sex that happened on the picnic tables under the open pavilion. And some of that could get pretty creative.

  Sophie got used to seeing it, so now she ignored it. Mostly. Sometimes she dragged Zak upstairs to his room at the clubhouse when he least expected it. He certainly didn’t go up the steps kicking and screaming like she did that first night. No, he was usually laughing and murmuring about the dirty things he was going to do to her which encouraged her to go faster.

  He took her into his arms, grabbing her ass and squeezing while he planted a kiss on her lips. Then he smacked her ass hard before letting her go.

  “Want me to pick you up later?” he asked.

  “Nope. I’ll drive over. I’ll bring some goodies to the party.”

  “Some of the brothers are gonna try to steal you away if you keep doin’ that.”

  “I know. That’s why I do it. To keep you on your toes,” she teased, smiling up at him.

  His eyes flashed as he smiled back at her. “No one else is goin’ to taste any of your sweet honey. My sweet honey.”

  “Just you?”

  “Just me, babe.” He gave her a gentle push. “Now get that sweet ass of yours back inside. Bella’s starin’ at us.”

  As Sophie turned to look in the large front picture window, Zak yelled, “God-fucking-damnit!” which made her freeze and her head spin back around. What happened next took seconds but felt like it happened in slow motion.


  A bike sped up the street, the biker’s face covered in a black bandana, dark goggles, and a black leather skull cap as he closed in towards Sophie standing by the bike. She watched in dismay as his arm snaked out to snag her. Zak was faster, pegging the guy’s body with the bottom of his boot and putting all his weight behind it.

  The biker lost his balance, Sophie jumped back, the bike skidded out from underneath the guy who rolled into the middle of the street.

  A black handgun skittered across the pavement, across the two lanes of travel before sliding to a stop along the curb.

  Before the motorcycle and its rider came to a complete stop, Zak was running, leaping over the downed bike and landing on top of the guy, pounding the shit out of him, kneeing the guy in the gut, slamming the other man’s head into the pavement. Over and over.

  Sophie felt like her feet were stuck in concrete. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t scream, she couldn’t move. Watching Zak violently pound the other biker made it worse. She’d never seen him this out of control before.

  And never wanted to again.

  Bella came running out of the shop, cursing, coming to an abrupt stop in the middle of the street, just feet from them, eyes wide. “What the fuck!”

  “Call Diesel,” Zak shouted to her as he slammed the guy’s skull one more time into the pavement.

  “I’m calling Axel,” Bella shouted back.

  “Call Diesel, Izzy!” Zak shouted even louder, his impatience clear.

  “No! I’m calling Axel!” She rushed back onto the sidewalk and closed in on Sophie, her hands shaking as she jabbed a finger at her cell. She mumbled, “This needs to stay on the up and up.” Cell to her ear, she said, “Axel? Yeah. Hey—” Then Bella stepped back inside the shop.

  Sophie realized she hadn’t moved an inch. Still frozen in place, she was unable to peel her eyes from the scene before her.

  She shook herself mentally. She had to do something before Zak killed the other biker. “Zak!” she screamed.