Dirty Deeds
Lauren Landish
Edited by
Valorie Clifton
Edited by
Staci Etheridge
Copyright © 2018 by Lauren Landish.
All rights reserved.
Cover design © 2018 by Coverluv.
Cover Models: Jonny James & Emily Jones.
Photography by Wander Aguiar.
Edited by Valorie Clifton & Staci Etheridge.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for mature readers.
All characters are 18+ years of age and all sexual acts are consensual
Contents
Dirty Deeds
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Mr. Fiancé
Heartstopper
Excerpt: Dirty Laundry
Coming Soon!
About the Author
Dirty Deeds
by Lauren Landish
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Other books in the Get Dirty Series (Interconnecting standalones):
Dirty Talk
Dirty Laundry
For months, I’ve watched her. I know she’s off-limits, but she’s so sweet, so innocent… and so sexy that she haunts my dreams.
Maggie doesn’t belong in this world, this seedy underbelly of the city. But there she is, my Angel with her wide eyes behind her nerdy glasses. So, when she needs help, I’m the only one who can protect her.
It didn’t even take a single kiss for me to fall in love with her. I know I shouldn’t—a man like me doesn’t deserve an Angel. I’ll hurt her, break her… ruin her. Still, I can’t help myself.
She’s going to regret this later, regret me and probably even hate me. But I’m a selfish man, and if she wants this now, I’ll give it to her. I’ll give her everything.
**For a limited time, this title includes bonus content.
Prologue
Shane
I lean back, keeping an eye on the club from my position near the wall. On the far side of the club, Marco the bartender is mixing up a pitcher of margaritas for one of the tables while looking cool as a cucumber in his dress shirt and vest, the sleeves on his cranberry-colored shirt rolled up to just below his elbows. Seeing me, he gives a little salute with two fingers. I return it, knowing that within a few minutes, I’ll have some refreshment myself.
“Hey, Shane, you want to switch?” Nick, the guy I have working the door right now, asks. “I gotta piss.”
“Yeah, I’ll cover the door for a bit. Just hurry. I want to do a walk-around.”
“No sweat,” Nick says, heading toward the back. I take over the door, leaning back in the stance that allows me to keep an eye on the floor while still keeping the door under control.
Nick takes his time. He always does, which is one of the reasons I’m the bouncer in charge here, but I’m not upset as I see a tight, petite blond make her way toward me. “Hey, Shane,” she says, handing me a big beer mug filled with Coca Cola. “Marco said you were looking thirsty.”
“Thanks, Meghan. You doing okay?” I ask, taking a moment to appreciate the wide-eyed cuteness that is Meghan. She’s only been here about a week, but there’s something about her that draws my eyes to her again and again, and not because I’m doing my security job. “No troubles with the tables?”
“Of course not,” Meghan says, giving me that shy, sweet-girl smile that I’ve started looking forward to. “Actually, I’ve got a friend coming in later. Uhm, if a tall knockout chick comes in asking for me, you mind pointing her my way?”
“Sure enough,” I promise her, an unfamiliar smile crossing my face. I almost never smile at work, but Meghan seems to pull them out of me without even trying. “You two gonna discuss cookie baking or something?”
For a split second, I see the most beautiful shade of pink as her cheeks blush, but then she ducks her head shyly. “No, she’s just having a tough time with a guy she’s seeing and wants my advice. I think she mostly needs girl talk, you know?”
“Sure,” I lie through my teeth. “I’ll keep an eye out. Be safe out there.”
Meghan nods, sashaying away. She tosses her hair back over her shoulder, her hips hypnotizing me with each swing left and right. On her, the sexy moves seem unintentional, not a practiced performance like the other girls here. Nick comes back and I drain my Coke before patrolling the floor. It’s not really needed, but letting the customers have a silent warning helps stop about ninety percent of the shit that can happen around here before it even starts.
As I move around the floor, my eyes tick back to Meghan as she works her tables. It’s almost like I’m circling her, edging ever so closer, tempting fire and keeping the best view of her that I can. Her uniform miniskirt hugs her tight ass like it was painted on her, and as she bends down to put a pitcher of beer on a table for six, I swear she’s showing off especially for me, popping her ass out in a fantasy-come-to-life move.
Maybe it’s just me, or maybe it’s Meghan’s natural charm, but I can’t help watching every move she makes. The way she licks a thumb when she splashes something on it, the way she shows her cleavage as she moves in her uniform bustier corset . . . it’s all so damn seductive, and the contrast between the shy girl she is around me and the sex kitten she acts like while working makes me wonder which is more real.
Meghan straightens up, turning and looking over her shoulder at me, adjusting those thick-framed ‘nerdy’ glasses that push her from cute to hot as fuck. She seems surprised to find me watching, her eyebrows lifting behind the frames, but I catch her biting her lip to hide the little smirk tugging at her mouth. She’s fucking with me, she’s got to be. I have to hold back a growl as she goes over to her next customer, striking a pose beside the table as she takes their order.
I’d never let any of the fucknuts who frequent this place lay a hand on one of the girls, but I keep a special eye on Meghan. It makes some of the long shifts a bit easier, and stocks my spank bank with plenty of imaginary material . . . Meghan bent over the bar as I take her from behind. Or maybe twirling around a pole in one of the private rooms just for me. The dangerous fantasies are the ones where I picture her in my bed . . . hair a mess with flushed cheeks, wearing nothing but the smile I just put on her full lips.
I alternate door duty with Nick, letting him do the next floor sweep per protocol. A static posi
tion sometimes makes me antsy. But for right now, I lean against the doorframe, appreciating the best view of Meghan in the house.
I continue my scan of the room, checking customers, the bar, and the stage, but my eyes always return to the tiny, sweet blonde that is slowly driving me insane. “God damn, what I would do to you if I had a chance,” I whisper to myself, knowing the heavy rock music will obliterate the words before anyone can hear them. Still, as if by some form of ESP, Meghan taunts me, crouching down with her ass near her heels to hear a guy’s order. He’s looking straight down her bustier at her tits and I have to hold myself back from beating the shit out of him just for looking at her. My restraint is rewarded as she rises back up, shifting her skirt back into place and giving me a bigger peek at the curve of her ass. She heads towards the bar to turn in the order, but I see the way she peeks over to check if I’m watching.
Two can play that game, little girl. I casually reach down and adjust my cock, my face hard and stoic as I give her a disapproving look. She squeaks I think. I can’t hear it, but the way she jumps a bit and her mouth flies open, I imagine the shocked sound coming from her throat. I laugh to myself, but I’m not sure if she won that round or I did.
Still, I keep my cool, keeping myself under control as the night wears on. Meghan’s friend shows up right before closing time, and the two have a long sit-down talk while Marco and I finish up the cleaning.
“Thanks, Shane,” Meghan says as they get ready to head out the door. Her friend’s gone off to use the ladies’ room, and it’s just us for a moment. “I always feel . . . good when you’re around.”
“I just want to make sure you stay safe,” I reply, looking down into her adorable face. “After all, this is a gentlemen’s club.”
Meghan chuckles and looks around. “Not too many gentlemen in this club. But I’m glad there’s at least one. Thanks again, Shane.”
My name on her lips is a tease that makes me want to taste her mouth as she says it again. But her friend comes out, and the two of them leave. Meghan gives me a little finger wave as the door closes. Oh, my sweet little innocent one . . . if only I were a gentleman.
If only.
I’m anything but, which is why it’s safer if you stay away from me.
Chapter 1
Maggie
“Hey, Marco! Can I get a pitcher of Miller Lite for table fifteen, please?” I yell over the throbbing bass of the music in the club . . . and get ignored again. “MARCO!”
He looks over and gives me a half-understanding nod before grabbing one of the plastic pitchers and filling it with . . . well, fudge it, it’s beer at least. I roll my eyes, frustrated that I have to drag the bartender’s eyes away from the stage. He’s been here for years, and you’d think he’d be immune to this after seeing dancers for hours five nights a week.
But he isn’t. Obviously, as evidenced by the way he’s staring at the stage. He moves a hand, and I think he’s going to adjust his crotch, but instead, his hand lifts to his head and he slicks his already meticulously coifed hair into place. In my head, I nag him. Adjust whatever you need to, your crotch or your hair or your suave designer clothes. Just do your dang job so I can do mine. Not too much to ask, is it?
“Here you go, Meghan,” he says, sliding the pitcher the last few inches to me. I notice that he doesn’t apologize that he’s ignored the order I placed on the bar five minutes ago, nor that the delay will likely affect my tip, not his. His eyes still haven’t left the show onstage either. Such a butt-nugget.
With a sigh, I turn to see what’s got Marco so blasted distracted at the moment. I know from the music that it’s Allie’s turn on stage. Besides being one of the people I can call a friend around here, she’s an amazing dancer, definitely too good to be stripping in a place like this. I watch as she spins around the pole, her legs splayed wide in the splits for several rotations as she flips her head around, making eyes at a guy in the front row.
In a flash, she pulls her legs in smoothly, locking them around the pole and lying back in a death-defying backbend move that puts her eye-level with her prey, although she’s upside-down and his eyes are locked on her boobs, not her face. I see her smirk and then kick her legs over, rising to stand tall in her high-heeled red stilettos. It’s impressive, even from just an athletic point of view, although I’m sure most of Allie’s fans aren’t really interested in how much she’s had to train and work for her unworldly strength, balance, and flexibility.
The guy picks up a green bill from the stack in front of him, and Allie slithers down to take it, blowing the guy a kiss with her plump, heavily lipsticked lips, knowing she’ll have the whole pile before her time onstage is up.
I clap loudly, cheering her on, knowing that the cash will help her out with her debt situation. She’s a nice girl, my best friend in this club, and still way too good for this joint.
Still clapping, I don’t hear Marco approach. “She’s something else, isn’t she? Even you can’t keep your eyes off her. Can you blame me? Unless . . . that’s your thing?”
I laugh, glancing over at him to see a questioning look in his dark eyes. He seems more excited about the idea than I would’ve expected because he knows me better than that. I shake my head. “You know I don’t swing that way, but I can appreciate talent and hard work. Especially in my friends.”
“Calm down, Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes. You know I’m not going near that chick with a ten-foot pole. I like my dick where it is, thank you very much.”
I narrow my eyes at him, attempting to appear threatening, but we both know it’s not the threat of my tiny little librarian-looking self that has him shaking in his Italian loafers. It’s that our boss has taken a rather obvious interest in Allie lately. And no one dares go against Dominick if he’s even considering marking some of that territory for himself.
“If you’re still interested, your Miller Lite is getting piss-warm and table fifteen is looking mighty thirsty,” he says, smirking. “I guess they’re not into Allie. They seem to be paying more attention to their beers and their MIA waitress.”
Shishkabob! My tip is definitely going to take a hit on this table if I can’t turn it around with a little extra sugar. Hoping that maybe they like nerdy girl-next-door types instead of out of this world exotic beauties like Allie, I fluff my girls up in the black bustier that serves as the top half of my uniform and grab the pitcher to walk it over.
“Here you go, fellas. Didn’t want to interrupt your view of Allie’s special talents,” I say, going heavy with the flirty innuendo as I lean over, confident that while my full cleavage is on display, they’re locked solidly in the cups and won’t spill out for an unintended nip slip.
Not that anyone would mind. Except me, of course. Petals from Heaven may be the sort of club where the female persuasion exposes their body parts to the spotlights, and my uniform is decidedly sexier than I would choose myself, but I’ve never felt like I was expected to do more than deliver drinks. Unless I wanted to, which I definitely don’t.
The guys’ eyes all lock to my chest, same as always, and their eyebrows lift. Gotcha, boys. So Allie isn’t their cup of tea, but I am. Well, it takes all types, and it’s sort of encouraging to know that a girl like me can be compared to a goddess like Allie and sometimes get the nod. Maybe my tip won’t be so bad, after all.
I take a moment to pour each of the four guys a mug, feigning a lack of skill that makes the suds at the top spill over the lip and down my hand, the white foam looking decidedly like something more seductive than beer. I might be kinda innocent, but I’m not as schoolgirl innocent as I look, and I know how to tease.
I give the last guy his drink and then casually lick the bubbles from my fingers, letting my pink tongue curl out before sucking a tip into my mouth. All four guys’ jaws drop at my innocent display before the one closest to me grabs my hand.
His blue eyes flick up to me as he holds my hand in a near-crushing grip, grinning drunkenly. “Let me help you with that.”
Before I can say yes or no, he moves forward, his blond hair falling into his face as he quickly swipes his tongue against my finger and sucks it into his mouth. Fudge! Danger, Will Robinson. Need to back this play up without causing a scene. One of the hallmark rules of working in a club—don’t cause a scene unless you really, really need help.
Instead of freaking out, I give my best girly giggle, jerking my hand back and squealing. “Ooh, that tickles!” I laugh as I shake my hand loose. “You shouldn’t be so naughty!”
“Honey,” Blondie says, half getting up, “if you want to see naughty—”
Out of nowhere, Shane appears behind me. He’s part of Petals’ security team and the star of too many of my midnight fantasies to admit. I can’t see him, but I can feel his presence like a physical force pressing against my body. It’s comforting, a little scary, and also frustrating. I can’t help it, Shane’s just . . . well, he’s as sexy as chocolate cake, and probably just as dangerous for my health.
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