Down & Dirty: Slade
Dirty Angels MC, Book 6
Jeanne St. James
Copyright © 2018 by Jeanne St. James
All rights reserved.
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Editor: Proofreading by the Page
Cover Art: Susan Garwood of Wicked Women Designs
Beta Reader: Author Whitley Cox & Krisztina Hollo
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Contents
Books by Jeanne St. James
About the Book
DAMC
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
Epilogue
Down & Dirty: Dawg Sneak Peek
Down & Dirty: Dawg Sneak Peek
In the Shadows Security Series
If You Enjoyed This Book
Bear’s Family Tree
Doc’s Family Tree
Also by Jeanne St. James
Audio Books by Jeanne St. James
About the Author
FREE Erotic Sampler Book
Books by Jeanne St. James
Made Maleen: A Modern Twist on a Fairy Tale
Damaged
Rip Cord: The Complete Trilogy
Brothers in Blue Series:
(Can be read as standalones)
Brothers in Blue: Max
Brothers in Blue: Marc
Brothers in Blue: Matt
Teddy: A Brothers in Blue Novelette
The Dare Ménage Series:
(Can be read as standalones)
Double Dare
Daring Proposal
Dare to Be Three
A Daring Desire
Dare to Surrender
The Obsessed Novellas:
(All the novellas in this series are standalones)
Forever Him
Only Him
Needing Him
Loving Her
Temping Him
Down & Dirty: Dirty Angels MC Series:
(Can be read as standalones)
Down & Dirty: Zak
Down & Dirty: Jag
Down & Dirty: Hawk
Down & Dirty: Diesel
Down & Dirty: Axel
Down & Dirty: Slade
Down & Dirty: Dawg
Down & Dirty: Dex
Down & Dirty: Linc
Down & Dirty: Crow
You can find information on all of Jeanne’s books here:
http://www.jeannestjames.com/
Welcome to Shadow Valley where the Dirty Angels MC rules. Get ready to get Down & Dirty because this is Slade’s story…
He thought he liked easy. Until she showed him easy was boring.
Right out of the Marines, Slade’s first mistake was patching into a club that was headed down a destructive path. His second was rolling into Shadow Valley on a search for answers. He had no plans to patch into another club, even one like the DAMC, and he certainly wasn’t looking for an ol’ lady. Especially a ball-buster like Diamond, who could singe the hair off a brother’s nuts with just a look.
DAMC born and bred, Diamond was ready to give up on becoming an ol’ lady until the heavily tattooed biker rolled into town on his Harley. Problem is, months later Slade’s still a mystery. He never talks about himself or his past, and Diamond wants answers. But she's not quite ready for what’s uncovered: secrets that could very well implode the club. It doesn’t just bring Slade’s loyalty into question, but forces Diamond to make a choice she doesn’t want to make. A choice that affects not only Slade, but the whole MC.
Note: This book can be read as a standalone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, biker slang, cursing, some violence and, of course, an HEA. If you like alpha males who like to take charge, this book is for you.
Down & Dirty ’til Dead
Chapter One
“C’mon, brother, wake the fuck up.”
Slade groaned as the annoying voice disturbed his peaceful rest.
“Slade. C’mon, brother. You gotta get the fuck outta here.”
For some reason, the disturbance sounded a lot like Dawg. Why the fuck would the strip-club manager be giving him an unwelcome wake-up call?
Slade popped one eye open.
Probably because he had passed out at Heaven’s Angels Gentlemen’s club. Again.
That wasn’t a pillow under his head. Nope. It was a stripper’s lap.
He tipped his eyes upward. Not surprised at all, she was passed out, too. Her head rested against the back of the red velour love seat, her neck bent cockeyed and her mouth wide open.
She didn’t look so hot right now.
But then, he probably didn’t look much better.
With a groan, he lifted his head off her fishnet-stockinged thighs. Hopefully, she didn’t mind the little bit of drool that had escaped his gaping mouth during his snooze-fest.
Fuck.
He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and groaned.
“Seriously, brother, you gotta get the fuck outta here. Wanna lock up. Take ‘er with ya, if you gotta. But just get gone.”
He blinked. His brain felt like a whole lot of cotton had been shoved between his ears.
He sucked in a deep breath, then grimaced.
Fuck. He wouldn’t be eating that snatch any time soon.
Fuck him. That was deadly.
He pushed himself upright faster than he should have, and his head wobbled. No, that wasn’t his head, that was his pickled brain.
“Want me to get one of the prospects to take you back to church?”
He blinked again, hoping his vision would clear. He turned his head to find Dawg standing about five feet away, hands planted on his hips, an unhappy expression on his bearded face. The six-foot-two biker had dark smudges under his eyes. He was probably ready to get some shuteye of his own after working all night.
Slade tried to shake his head, but that made things so much worse. “No,” he finally got out, his voice croaking like a sick frog.
“Either that or Diamond. Take your fuckin’ pick. If I were you, I’d take door number one. Number two might just shriek your head right off, an’ then slam your dick over an’ over in that door. ‘Specially since your usin’ one of my girls as a fuckin’ pillow.”
Door number one sounded like a good option. There w
as probably a prospect still in the club that could drag his ass home.
Slade forced out, “Where’s Moose?”
“In the back, restockin’. Gonna get him to haul this passed-out bitch home in a few an’ can get ‘im to drop you off, too.”
Slade started to nod but thought better of it.
His brain felt like soup; no point in sloshing it around more than necessary.
“Don’t get why you’re gettin’ fuckin’ plastered here every night instead of The Iron Horse. Drink free there, here you don’t.”
He drank here because most of the club members didn’t come out to the strip club. It wasn’t a typical hang-out for them. They preferred drinking in church or the public side of the bar, so they could just walk upstairs to their room to pass out.
If he had any sense he’d do the same, but after working a shift at The Iron Horse slinging drinks for Hawk, the club’s VP and bar manager, and helping contain any out-of-control customers, he didn’t feel like serving himself. He wanted to sit on the other side of the bar, enjoy himself, and not be bothered.
It also didn’t hurt that most of Dawg’s girls were easy on the eyes and came with big-ass tits.
Not to mention, soft laps to pass out on. And sometimes pussy that didn’t smell like death warmed over.
But that wasn’t the main reason he’d been ending up here. Fuck no, it wasn’t.
The main reason was to lay low. Get his drink on without that bitch harping at him.
A bitch he hadn’t even banged yet.
A bitch who had tried to get her claws in him. Take a permanent seat on the back of his sled.
He wasn’t ready to have an ol’ lady, for fuck’s sake.
And even if he was, it certainly wouldn’t be Diamond. While they had a bit of fun last summer during some of the club runs, that was all it was... fun. To an extent.
At least until she wanted to become his regular piece.
Worst part about her was the woman didn’t listen. No fucking way was he putting up with backtalk and attitude.
He didn’t mind claws as long as they only came out while fucking. Screw that everyday shit, though. That would give a brother a headache. Worse than the hangover he would have tomorrow.
Was the bitch hot? Fuck yeah, she was.
Long dark, dark, dark brown hair that was typical for the Dirty Angels MC women, and great for digging his fingers into. Bright blue eyes that could pierce him to his soul. Plump, red lips that would be perfect for wrapping around his cock and sucking him like a fucking Hoover vacuum. And the fucking tits on her... Damn, they’d been pressed to his back during the runs a couple times. He couldn’t forget those curvy hips of hers, either. Perfect to sink his fingers into, whether he was fucking her from behind or she was riding him like a bucking bronco.
All stuff he had planned on doing with her until he found out she was fucking crazy, too. She could flip the bitch switch in an instant.
Could have something to do with Di’s father, Rocky, doing time in SCI Greene for murder. She was the kind of woman who needed a firm hand and apparently didn’t get it growing up with her mother, Ruby, from what he heard. The only father-figure she had was Ace and that poor man already had his hands full with his own two sons, Diesel and Hawk, as well as his nieces and nephews, Dex, Ivy and Bella.
But it wasn’t like he’d had a father-figure in his life, either.
No matter what, Slade certainly wasn’t going to be filling in for her “daddy” and giving her some life lessons. Especially now that she was about to turn thirty.
No. Fucking. Way.
Though... some of those so-called life lessons could be fun. Her sister, Jewel, got a lot of those from her ol’ man, Diesel. It always seemed D, the club’s Sergeant at Arms, was throwing his ol’ lady over his shoulder and hauling her ass either home or upstairs to his room at church to “teach her a lesson.”
His lips twitched. Those were the best kind.
Slade wasn’t sure if that’s what Diamond needed. But if she did, he wasn’t the one willing to give them to her.
Though, he normally didn’t mind a challenge, right now he wanted easy.
No lip. No attitude. Fuck, tuck, and go.
Another reason he kept landing face down on Dawg’s girls. Couldn’t get easier than that. For the most part, anyhow.
They knew better than to cling afterward.
“What’s ‘er name?” Slade asked Dawg, who was coming from the back room with Moose on his heels. Slade had been so caught up in his thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed he’d left.
Damn.
“Don’t think it’s gonna matter when you wake up tomorrow mornin’.”
“It is tomorrow mornin’ already,” the prospect told Dawg.
“No, once he lands in his rack, he ain’t wakin’ up ‘til tomorrow mornin’.”
Moose laughed and nodded.
Nope, that couldn’t happen. Slade had to work The Iron Horse tomorrow night... tonight... what-fucking-ever. “What time is it?”
“Three.”
“Fuck,” Slade groaned.
“Yeah, an’ I wanna hit my own rack. So get the fuck outta here.”
Slade tilted his head toward the still passed-out stripper. “Didn’t fuck ‘er, right?”
“No. Didn’t make it off that couch ‘fore you both passed out. Got a sloppy lap dance an’ then you were both out fuckin’ cold.”
“Fuck,” Slade muttered again.
“Yeah, owe me a hundred bucks.”
Slade’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “For the lap dance?”
“No, owe her for the lap dance. Owe me for the loss of tips since she missed her last dance on stage.”
“Shit.”
Dawg nodded. “Yeah, shit. This shit’s gotta stop, brother. Bad ‘nough when you’re gettin’ wasted, but gettin’ my girls wasted ain’t good. Got me?”
Slade sucked in a breath. “Yeah. Got you.”
“Gotta carry her, Moose. Make sure she gets inside her place an’ it’s locked up ‘fore you leave.”
“Got you, boss.”
“An’ don’t be copin’ a feel, either. Got me?” Dawg said louder than what was necessary, which made Slade wince.
The heavyset prospect lifted his palms in front of him. “Ain’t takin’ advantage of some unconscious lady.”
Dawg snorted at the prospect’s use of “lady.” But no matter what Dawg thought of his “girls,” he treated them well and made sure they stayed safe. That’s why he never had a lack of talent on stage.
“An’ that’s why I pay you well, prospect. Now get ‘em both outta here so I can go crash.”
Moose leaned over, picked the stripper up like she weighed nothing, even though she was dead weight, and Slade reluctantly climbed to his feet. His head spun for a second but once he leveled out, he was good to follow Moose out of the club’s back door to the employee parking lot.
However, out in the parking lot on the way to the prospect’s vehicle, he had to take a quick pit stop and rid his gut of its liquid contents.
And that didn’t make him feel one fucking bit better.
“The big three-oh!” Jewel practically screamed in her ear.
Diamond winced at her sister’s loud enthusiasm. Who the hell was excited when they turned thirty? Not her. Di was not looking forward to her thirtieth birthday. No way, no how. Thirty and still single. Thirty and still not an ol’ lady. Thirty and still didn’t have anyone in her bed on a regular basis. Thirty and her steady boyfriend took batteries. And a lot of them.
She frowned.
“Okay, so what are we planning?” Bella asked, leaning back into the counter at Sophie’s Sweet Treats.
They were having an impromptu meeting of the DAMC women. Somehow, whenever that happened they always ended up at Sophie’s bakery.
Well, the reason why was simple.
Fucking awesome, sweet, fattening cupcakes. The best in western Pennsylvania if you asked Diamond. But that was neither here nor ther
e...
The point was the women wanted to do something for her birthday.
“We could do a ladies’ night out!” Kelsea chirped.
“Where?” Ivy asked.
Kelsea shrugged. “Find some hot club in the ‘Burgh?”
“I’m not going to some club,” Bella muttered.
“Why not? It would be fun!” Kelsea exclaimed.
“Well, that would leave me out,” Sophie said, holding onto her huge belly. “All I need is my water to break in the middle of the dance floor.”
Sophie looked like she was about to pop out Zak’s kid at any second. Di wrinkled her nose. It actually looked painful with her body stretched enormously out of its natural shape. It looked like she shoved an overfilled beach ball under her maternity top. She couldn’t imagine Sophie’s former hot body would ever be the same again.
The woman waddled over to the display case and groaned as she tried to lean over to pull out a tray of cupcakes for them to devour.
“Oh!” Sophie gasped.
“What?” Kiki yelled, eyes wide.
Sophie straightened, making a face. “I think I just peed myself a little. Freaking kid is riding on my bladder like it’s a Harley.”
“Let me get that,” Bella said, putting a hand on Sophie’s back and gently moving her out of the way. She pulled out a tray of cupcakes that looked mouth-watering.
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