Down & Dirty: Books 1-3: Dirty Angels MC Series Box Set

by St. James, Jeanne

  He frowned, finally meeting her gaze again. “No.”

  His eyes held hers steadily, not a flicker of anything behind them. She believed him.

  “What the hell is it?” Was it used to make explosives?

  “Shit used to make meth.”

  Her brows shot to her hairline. “You make meth?”

  His frown deepened into a scowl. “No.”

  “You ever make meth?”

  “No.”

  “Cops found it on you?”

  “My place.”

  “How much?” Not that she’d know how much was too much, but she was curious and since he was answering, she was asking.

  “An ounce or so.” Ten years for an ounce. Or so. Crazy.

  “How’d it get there?”

  Sophie watched as his face got hard. A muscled jumped in his jaw. “Not sure.”

  Now, he was lying. He knew. But the thought of whoever placed that chemical in his place made him angry. As it should.

  “If you didn’t bring it into your own place, someone else did,” she stated the obvious.

  No answer.

  “So, you were set up.”

  More silence.

  “By who?” she prodded.

  “Club business, babe.” His expression shut down, went blank. Unreadable.

  “You went to prison for ten years because you were set up,” she tried again.

  But, again, he didn’t answer. He stared at a spot behind her, not meeting her eyes.

  “An ounce of that ammonia stuff put you in jail for ten years.”

  His nostrils flared. “That an’ other stuff.”

  “What other stuff?”

  “My time inside wasn’t easy.”

  “What does that mean?”

  His eyes slid to her. “Took no shit.”

  She couldn’t imagine he did. “No time off for good behavior, then.”

  “No.”

  “So, you were a bad boy,” she whispered.

  “Yeah.” His eyes cut to her and flashed. “You like to fuck bad boys, babe?”

  “Last night was my first time,” she admitted.

  “Ever?”

  “Ever.”

  “Won’t be your last time, though. Guaranteed.”

  “So you think.”

  “Don’t think,” he said with a smile. “Know.”

  “Cocky.”

  “Yep.”

  “Proud of that?”

  “Sure.”

  Sophie laughed, then shook her head. He was a piece of work. And she did not need some badass biker in her life. No, she didn’t.

  But temporarily in her bed? Maybe. Only for that second round they never got around to.

  His eyes cut to the door at the back of the shop that led to the kitchen. “Stairs to the apartment back there?”

  “I haven’t said yes.”

  “Don’t matter. Your eyes are sayin’ it.” He stepped closer again, his breath warm against her cheek. “Your nipples are tellin’ me, too.”

  When his thumb brushed against one of those traitorous nipples, she stiffened so she wouldn’t arch into his touch.

  Damn it. There was no reason to keep fighting the decision she already made, but didn’t want to admit to.

  She sighed, pinning his hand over her breast with her own. She squeezed it before letting him go. “Follow me.”

  She pulled away from him and headed toward the swinging door, not even checking to see if he followed. He would. She was sure of it.

  “Hold up, babe,” he called, and she froze with her hand on the door. He yanked her head back by her ponytail, leaning close enough she could feel his breath along her neck, and slowly slid the elastic band from her hair, letting the messy dark mass fall around her shoulders. “That’s better,” he whispered.

  Sophie looked over her shoulder, pushing her now loose hair away from her face. “Do I have a bruise on my forehead?”

  His eyes roamed over her slowly before saying, “Nope.”

  “’Cause I swear to Christ,” she parroted him. “I had to have knocked the sense out of me somehow. Let’s go upstairs.” She hit the lights to the shop, then slammed the swinging door with her palms and winded her way through the back area towards the private stairway.

  His low chuckle behind her shot a shiver down her spine.

  “Hurry up,” she called back to him and then jogged up the steps.

  Chapter Five

  Zak shoved his tongue into his cheek as he watched Sophie climb the stairs to her quarters. Nah, more like climbing the stairs to heaven. For him, anyway.

  Maybe fate was handing him back the luck he lost when he got convicted of a crime he didn’t commit. Throughout his life, there had been plenty of other shit he’d done, but what he went down for wasn’t one of them.

  Which pissed him off to no end, of course. Ten years living in a tiny cell made of concrete block with what seemed like a different inmate each year could piss you off if you did the crime. Doing time, losing a decade of your life, when you didn’t do the crime made you furious.

  He pushed the bitterness that clawed at him out of his head as he followed her through the second-floor door to her place. He was relieved to see she had to unlock it first.

  She’d be stupid to leave it unlocked when she wasn’t up there. Hell, it would be stupid to leave it unlocked even if she was. But then, maybe she was thinking she was stupid by letting him come up to her place, her bedroom… her bed.

  No matter what, he’d read in her eyes what she wanted. She couldn’t hide it. Though, she probably wasn’t a hundred percent happy about it.

  He’d do his very best in the next hour to make it one hundred percent.

  When she moved over to her small kitchenette to throw her keys on the counter, he went the opposite direction to the windows at the back. He looked down to see a small stone parking lot where her car sat in the dark. No flood lights. That would have to be taken care of. Then he checked the sashes of both windows. Locked. Good. No deck attached for easy access. Good.

  The lack of lighting at the rear of the building ate at him though. He turned and was surprised to find her in the middle of the living room, hands on hips, watching him. “You casing the joint?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Thought so. I don’t have anything worthwhile to steal.”

  “You.”

  “What?”

  “You. You’re worth stealin’. Some asshole can break in here an’ have his way with you against your wishes.”

  “Like you did last night?”

  He shrugged. “You wanted it.”

  “That’s what they all say,” she murmured.

  There she went again… comparing him to a rapist. Not flattering at all. “Wouldn’t have touched you otherwise.”

  “No, me pounding on your back and screaming, wasn’t a sign. At all.”

  “Some women like it like that.”

  “Caveman style?”

  He shrugged again and his gaze bounced around her apartment. It was small, but still a lot bigger than his room upstairs at the clubhouse. And just as barren. He expected her to have pretty little things strewn about the place. She didn’t. Only the basics. Though, nothing wrong with that, either.

  “You screamed louder when you came.”

  She dropped her gaze to her toes, shook her head and then when she finally looked up, she was wearing that sexy smile of hers. Damn, the one that got him in the gut. Naked, wearing that smile, she’d be perfect. And he’d never leave her bed.

  “That I did,” she finally admitted. “Were you that good when you went in? Or did you learn your techniques in prison? You had lots of time in there to practice.”

  He liked her sense of humor. He liked her business sense from what he could see so far. He liked her. Period.

  But he loved sinking into that sweet pussy last night and it was time to get back to business.

  Round two. Ding. Ding. Ding.

  “You’re still dressed,” he said.


  “So are you.”

  He slipped his cut off his shoulders and placed it with care over an old wooden rocking chair that was within arm’s reach. Then crossing his arms in front of him, he grabbed the bottom of his thermal tee and yanked it up over his head, tossing it onto the seat of the same chair.

  He bent over, unbuckled his boots and kicked them off, then yanked his socks off by the toes, tossing them to the side.

  When he straightened, he was barefoot, bare-chested, just wearing his jeans. He leveled his gaze at her. Her eyes were flashing as she studied his chest full of tattoos.

  “More?” he asked.

  “Hell yes,” she whispered.

  He smiled, shook his head and let his fingers drop to his belt buckle. He unclasped it slowly, then unfastened his jeans.

  He paused. “Like my tats?”

  “No.”

  “Liar,” he said, then pushed his jeans and boxers down his thighs and stepped out of them.

  His hard-on bobbed as he stood totally naked about ten feet from her. She was too far away for his liking. And still dressed. Her eyes were glued to his dick, which pulled his balls tight.

  “Like my tats now?” he asked, stroking himself slowly.

  “Nope,” she whispered.

  “Get on your knees,” he told her. As she rushed forward and dropped to her knees, he just about fell over in surprise. He did not expect her to do that without some sort of challenge from her first.

  When she took him into her mouth, he almost cried. And not cried out, either. Almost shed a fucking tear at how her mouth felt on him. How tight her lips circled him as she rose and fell on his dick. And when she lapped at the crown with her tongue, he dug his hands into her hair and threw his head back.

  Holy fuck.

  She made a noise at the back of her throat as she took his full length. Fuckin’ A, his whole dick. The vibrations of that noise just about made him lose it. But he didn’t want to lose his load down her throat. Not this time.

  He wanted to be inside her when he let loose while listening to her mews, and cries, and demands that he remembered from last night. Noises that were burned into his brain.

  “Ah, fuck, babe. Gotta slow down.” His voice sounded higher pitched than normal. He cleared his throat. “Holy shit, slow down. I—”

  Fuck. He was going to lose it. Like any second now. Her sweet, hot mouth working him made his head spin. When she cupped his balls and squeezed, he jerked back and away from her, breaking the contact.

  His chest heaved with his ragged breathing. “I—” He shook his head as he stared down at her, still on her knees looking up at him, her lips shiny, her eyes hooded. “Which door is your bedroom?”

  Without a word, she lifted an arm toward an open door. With a growl, he leaned over, hauled her up and over his shoulder in a repeat of last night and strode through the doorway.

  “Hit the light,” he told her as he paused just inside the room. “Wanna make sure I see your face when you come.”

  She smacked at the wall and the room lit up. His gaze landed on the bed and in two strides, he had her tossed in the middle. She bounced, gasping.

  “Clothes off.”

  “I—” Now she was the one at a loss for words.

  “Clothes off,” he repeated. “Hurry.”

  She scrambled to a seated position and began to pull off her clothes, throwing them to the floor. When she was finally only in her bra and panties he said, “Panties on.”

  Her eyes shot to him, but she listened. Removing her bra, she tossed it without a care, then stilled.

  She wore little pink panties.

  “Spread your thighs. Let me see.”

  She cocked her knees and spread them wide. Just as he thought. Her pink panties were a lot darker along the line of her pussy. Soaked.

  She bit her bottom lip. Goddamn, he wanted those teeth in his flesh while he fucked her.

  “Tell me you want this. Need to hear it. Don’t wanna hear shit ‘bout tonight like last night, babe. Not one word that you didn’t want this.”

  “I want this.”

  “Say it again. Use my name. Wanna make sure there’s no mistakin’ who’s gonna be slidin’ deep between your thighs.”

  “I want this,” she repeated on a breath. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard and added, “Zak.”

  He fisted his cock and stroked it once. “That’s right, babe. That won’t be the only time you’re sayin’ my name tonight. Guaranteed. Slide those panties off. Hand ‘em to me.”

  Zak’s gut clenched as he continued to stroke himself while she did as she was told and held out the damp scrap of cloth to him. He snagged them from her fingers and held them to his nose, inhaling. “Damn, your scent’s like honey. Sweet and delicious.” He tossed them to the side.

  If he remembered later, he’d find them and take them home with him. He wanted to keep a piece of her honeyed goodness with him.

  On his knees, he climbed onto the bed between her legs and stared down at her opened to him, both of her hands cupped her tits, and she pinched her own nipples.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  He needed to sheath himself deep into her warm, slick cunt, but first… He needed to see if she tasted as good as she smelled. He slid onto his belly and dipped his head, purposely dragging his beard across her tender skin, making her hips jerk. She said something, he had no idea what. And when he did it again, he realized what she was saying, “Fuck me, Zak.”

  His name on her lips sounded like fucking music to his ears. He would do what he needed to, so he’d hear that favorite song again. And again.

  He pressed his lips to her clit and nibbled. Her hips shot off the bed but he went with her, playing with her, teasing, tasting her thoroughly. He sucked the sensitive nub, and she groaned, which in turn, made him groan.

  “Fuck me, Zak.”

  “Soon,” he murmured against her flesh, as he slipped two fingers inside her. She was ready. So ready for him.

  Him.

  Zak Jamison. Felon. Patched member of the DAMC. And at that moment, he didn’t think she cared. Right now, to her, he was just Zak. She wanted him.

  Holy hell, she wanted him. Needed him now. She pulsed around his fingers, ground against his mouth. She was going to come. Damn. How could anyone be so good with their mouth?

  Her hips jerked one more time and then she wrapped her legs around his back as her toes curled, her neck arched, and she screamed out his name. An intense ripple ran through her and her eyes fluttered closed.

  When her body finally relaxed and her breathing slowed a little, she dropped her legs back to the bed and tipped her head to look at him. He was still lying between her thighs, peering up her body, a huge smile on his face.

  Cocky.

  He crawled up her body, his cock sliding along her thigh and when he stopped, the head of it bumped her folds. She opened to him, but he didn’t move, just stared down into her eyes and shook his head.

  “Got a wrap?”

  A what? Oh, fuck.

  Fuck.

  He didn’t come prepared?

  “I don’t think so.”

  His brows raised high and he tilted his head as he studied her. “You haven’t had anyone in your bed since you moved here?”

  “No. I normally don’t crawl into bed with just anyone.”

  “An’ you still haven’t.”

  Not just cocky, but damn cocky.

  She released a ragged sigh. It still didn’t help the situation at hand. “You didn’t bring anything in that big-assed wallet of yours?”

  “Been a long time since I had to carry around wraps, babe. Not like I needed ‘em in prison.”

  A few thoughts flitted through her mind at his words, but she pushed them away. She didn’t think he’d appreciate her bad humor right now. Especially since he had a hard-on that wouldn’t quit and no way to relieve it at the moment.

  Unless… she finished what she started in the living room. Bu
t she wanted him inside her. Needed him inside her.

  Ugh! Why didn’t she buy condoms the last time she went to the grocery store?

  Because she never expected to bring a man into her bed. Stupid, but true.

  “Now what?” she asked, the disappointment thick in her voice.

  “I fuck you.”

  “Without a condom?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But…”

  “Haven’t been with anyone in over ten years, babe. Nobody but you an’ that was last night. Wasn’t with anyone in prison, either, an’ that’s all I’ll say ‘bout that. So, yeah, no wrap.”

  “Uh, I—”

  “You on the pill?”

  “No.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah,” she said on a sigh.

  He dropped his forehead to hers and blew out a breath. She understood his frustration because she felt it, too.

  “Don’t need a kid right now,” he grumbled.

  No shit! She didn’t need one, either. Especially with trying to build up her business. Not just that, but one with a felon biker. Even if he’d been falsely accused, he still was labeled a convict. He still had a record.

  “Got three options,” he started, the crown of his cock sliding along her slick, swollen lips. “One, I run out an’ get some. Which might take a little time. Two, you wrap that mouth of yours ‘round me like earlier. Promise not to take long if you do. Three, I take your sweet ass. Guess there’s a fourth option… We risk it. Up to you, babe. The third option’s soundin’ pretty good right about now.”

  The third option? Holy Hannah. That hadn’t even crossed her mind. She never let anyone do that before to her. Never planned to, either.

  She figured out in her head how long it would take for him to run to the nearest twenty-four-hour convenience store. Or, hell, gas station even. That was probably the smartest option, but—

  He continued, “Can tell you I’m not likin’ that first option. Might come to your senses an’ not let me back in.”

  True. That could very well happen. Point taken.

  “Two would be fine with me, but may not give you what you need.”

  Another good point.

  He dropped his head and sucked one of her nipples deep into his mouth making it pucker. Lightning shot from her nipple to settle in her core. Damn. His cock was right there, knocking at her front door. And he wanted to go around to the rear.