Down & Dirty: Dex (Dirty Angels MC Book 8)

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Down & Dirty: Dex (Dirty Angels MC Book 8) Page 4

by Jeanne St. James


  Then she hit another button and all the locks clicked, securing them in together.

  Another good idea.

  Then she was on him, facing him, straddling his thighs, taking his mouth.

  He groaned when her tongue forced its way into his mouth, taking control.

  Fuck yeah, was all he could think.

  He grabbed her ass and squeezed as she rode up and down on his lap, both of them still fully clothed.

  Then she bit his bottom lip so hard, he grunted and tasted blood.

  “Mine.”

  What? What the fuck did she just say?

  “Pants down. Hurry.” She ripped her blouse over her head and tossed it into the front seat, then moved off him, unzipping and yanking off her boots, shimmying her tight jeans over her thighs and down her calves, over her heels. “You’re not moving!” she yelled at him.

  He jerked into action, his blood racing through his body, landing in his dick. He lifted his hips off the seat and unfastened his jeans, shoving them down as far as he could, which was only to his bent knees.

  “You have tats on your chest?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Shirt off. I want to see them.”

  This woman was crazy! And by removing his shirt, she was going to see something most of his brothers didn’t know he had.

  But fuck it. He was going to get his rocks off by this smoking hot woman. And he didn’t give a shit what she saw.

  He pulled his long-sleeved thermal over his head and threw it.

  Then he grinned when her eyes dropped. She wasn’t looking at his dick. As magnificent as it truly was. Fuck no, she wasn’t.

  She straddled his thighs again, her hot, slick pussy brushing against his twitching cock.

  “Wasn’t expecting that,” she whispered, her voice so breathy that he almost came.

  He tried to keep his voice from breaking when he asked, “Don’t like it?”

  “Love it,” she murmured.

  He grinned. Then threw his head back against the seat as she yanked on both of his nipple rings hard. All the oxygen left him on an “aaah, fuck.”

  Then she dropped her head and sucked one of his nipples in her mouth, her tongue flicking the ring.

  He thrust up against her wet pussy. She grabbed his other ring and twisted it, causing his back to bow away from the leather seat.

  “Fuck yeah, babe,” he groaned.

  Her tongue continued to tug and tease one pierced nipple, her fingers twisted the other harder. Almost to the point of pain.

  But he wasn’t going to tell her to stop. Fuck no, he wasn’t.

  His fingers dug into her ass as she rubbed against him, his dick sliding back and forth through her wet folds.

  Fuck, he needed to come. But not on himself.

  “Ride me,” he groaned.

  She stopped everything she was doing. Just shut it all down and pulled back. “You don’t tell me what to do.”

  Holy shit, this woman was crazy. But he fucking loved it.

  A string of precum was sticking to his stomach, and his balls were so tight, he was about to blow. So if she didn’t do something soon, she was going to miss out on her chance to fuck him.

  But maybe she didn’t want to fuck him.

  Fuck.

  No. Would she do that to him? Let him blow his load all over himself then just walk away?

  That would be cruel and unusual punishment. Wouldn’t it? Fuck yeah, it would be!

  He went solid when she reached down and held him in place, his dick throbbing in her hand as she rose up and...

  “No wrap,” he groaned in a half-assed protest.

  ...sank down on him.

  Chapter Three

  Brooke closed her eyes as he filled her. But only for a second. She only allowed herself one second to appreciate that fullness. Then she began to ride him hard.

  She needed to get all the demons out of her. Frustration. Anger. Grief.

  And the gall of this man to try to tell her what to do!

  To hell with that.

  No one told her what to do. Ever.

  Her mother had always told her and her sister to never let a man get the upper hand, never show weakness. Always act like you’re in control, even when you felt like you’re not.

  She had taken that advice to heart. Maybe even took it farther than her mother had intended. Not once had she ever let a man dominate her. Not once. She always had had control of her destiny. And she was successful for it.

  But now Dex’s hands were on her ass again, helping her rise and fall on his hard length. She didn’t want that. Didn’t need his help. Not in this case.

  She snagged his wrists roughly and ripped his hands from her, pinning them to the back of the leather seat. She tightened her fingers around his wrists, the one with the wide black leather cuff, the other just his naked skin. His tattoos stopped at his wrists like a sleeve. They ran up his arms and over his chest just like he said. Her gaze landed on his nipple rings.

  She had no idea bikers were into that.

  Maybe they weren’t. Maybe it was just this one.

  Dex.

  She still had no idea what that was a nickname for. Normally, it would be short for Dexter. But what biker was named Dexter?

  Especially one with a bunch of tattoos and nipple rings. It was an anomaly.

  Even in the limited light, she could tell that his lower lip was swelling from her bite. She couldn’t help herself. She needed to give him a little reminder that he wasn’t the boss of her.

  Not now. Not ever.

  This was the way she liked it. Being on top. Controlling everything during sex. Controlling everything. Period.

  Most men didn’t like it. She scared a lot away.

  Sometimes she’d find one who’d tolerate it for a while. Until she intimidated them with her strong personality and her demands. Both in and out of bed.

  They complained that she attempted to take away their “manhood.”

  No, that’s not what she was trying to do.

  This one, though... This one wasn’t complaining. He was allowing her to pin him to the seat. With both her hands and her pussy. He didn’t bitch about her biting him, actually drawing blood.

  The harder she sucked on his nipple rings, twisted and played with them, the more his body reacted.

  He liked this shit.

  He ate this up.

  He wasn’t afraid of her.

  He wasn’t intimidated by her.

  Yet.

  If he could take everything she gave him and ask for more, then...

  She stopped the direction of her thoughts.

  Then, nothing.

  She was in Shadow Valley for a reason. And it wasn’t to ride some biker’s cock. That may be a fringe benefit, but that was all it was.

  Nothing more.

  She’d only met him earlier in the day. She didn’t even know his last name. Didn’t even know his real name. And here she was in the back of her Beemer, fucking him.

  But this would only last a few minutes, then she’d be done with him. Go on her way. Finish her quest to find whoever the hell her real father was.

  To quench that burning curiosity.

  To find out the truth.

  Maybe confront whoever he was.

  She had no idea what she would do. She figured she’d know when she found him. If she found him.

  If not, she’d go back to her life. Her place, her job. Forget all about the Dirty Angels MC. Finish settling her mother’s estate.

  And simply fucking move on.

  Right now, the man whose cock she rode was just a distraction. Maybe a tool in her search.

  That was it.

  That was all.

  This Dex.

  She fell forward, shoving her face into his neck, sinking her teeth hard into his throat. He tensed beneath her, but didn’t pull from her grip. He allowed her to continue to hold him down. He was bigger, stronger, but he didn’t use his strength or his size to take control.

>   No, he liked it.

  Hell, he wanted it.

  He was hard as steel as she rocked her hips, making sure her clit hit him in just the right way.

  Right there. That was perfect. Just what she needed.

  She released his wrists, dug her fingers into his hair and ripped his head back, arching his throat, stretching his skin along his delicate windpipe. Making him vulnerable.

  He was breathing hard, his skin getting damp, his chest heaving, grunts coming from between his lips. She slammed down harder onto his lap, grinding against him until he could be no deeper inside her.

  Yes, this was what she needed.

  Just this.

  She put her lips to his ear. “You like it like this.”

  He didn’t answer at first, didn’t fight the pull of his hair which she knew had to be painful. Because she made sure it was.

  A few breaths later, he managed, “Fuckin’ bitch, bring it.”

  Brooke smiled, dropped her mouth to his shoulder and bit him harder than ever. He cried out, his body tensing once again. She released his hair, found both nipple rings and pulled as far as she could without ripping them out of his skin.

  She licked up his neck, over his cheek, sucked on his injured bottom lip, then took his mouth again. He tasted so damn good. She explored every recess of his mouth while raking her long nails over his pecs, over the hard tips of his nipples, down his stomach.

  Brooke suddenly pictured him naked and bound spread-eagle on her bed so she could do whatever she wanted to him. She wanted this badass biker, this man who rode Harleys, wore leather and biker boots, to whimper, squirm and beg.

  Her orgasm caught her off guard, throwing off her rhythm as she clenched tightly around him, then pulsated fiercely.

  “Fuck!” he cried out.

  She took his mouth again as she continued to ride him hard, picking up her pace again, holding his head still by using his dark hair to keep him in place.

  She hadn’t orgasmed like that in a long time. She needed another one. He needed to last just long enough for her to get it.

  She pulled back enough to tell him, with her voice huskier than normal, “Don’t come yet. Hear me? Not yet. I’ll tell you when. Not before.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Answer me,” she demanded.

  He closed his eyes, blew out a breath and dug his fingers into her ass. They were going to leave bruises, but she didn’t care. She just needed him to last a little longer.

  Just a little...

  His fingers kneaded, squeezed and dug into her flesh and she swore she heard him grind his teeth.

  She jerked on his hair. “Not yet.”

  He released a loud, long groan. “Gonna come.”

  “Not yet, damn it. Don’t.”

  “Yeah, babe, gotta come.”

  “When I tell you.”

  “Ah fuck,” he moaned. “I can’t...”

  “You can and you will,” she said firmly, trying not to sound like she was losing it herself. Just a few seconds longer. That was all she needed.

  She was right there. His cock was hitting all the right spots as she ground down on him, pressing her clit hard into his pelvis.

  She needed his hands on her breasts, on her nipples. But she’d never took off her bra and she wasn’t going to take the time now. She was so close.

  And then... She. Was. There.

  She threw her head back and screamed since this orgasm was even better, more intense than the first. It ripped through her, making her shudder, fall against the man who was still as hard as a rock inside her.

  “Fuck, babe,” he muttered, then shouted, “For fuck’s sake.”

  She realized he was waiting for her to give him permission to come. Whoops.

  Still panting, she put her mouth to his ear. “Now.”

  With a grunt, his hips lifted off the seat, almost throwing her off balance. She grabbed his shoulders to stay in place as he came fiercely inside her, his cock throbbing and twitching.

  After a moment, he collapsed against the leather seat of her BMW, his eyes intense as they stared at each other, looked at each other almost as if in surprise. Shock, even.

  Her heart did a nervous flip as something went unsaid between them. Some connection. Something that shouldn’t be.

  He was just a distraction. Nothing more.

  He was just a means to an end. A way to find her father.

  That was all.

  A large fist pounding on the back passenger-side window had them both jumping.

  “Fuckin’ got an audience out here,” Hawk yelled, his mohawk-topped, tattooed head coming into view as he stared at them with a grin.

  “Fuck,” Dex muttered as they both looked out of the partially fogged side window as Hawk’s face disappeared. They certainly did have an audience. Some of the bar patrons stood around the car, big smiles on their faces. A couple of them even raised their beers as they hooted and hollered.

  “Take your snatch elsewhere, brother, before the pigs show up an’ charge you for lewd acts or some such shit. Don’t need 5-0 here tonight, got me?” Hawk leaned closer to the window again and said, “Nice nips, Dex. Knew you were a fuckin’ freak deep down.” He straightened once more and turned to the crowd, waving his beefy, tattooed arms. “Everybody back inside. Fuckin’ show’s over. Give ‘em a chance to cuddle for a bit in the afterglow.” He howled with laughter as he forced the crowd to disperse.

  Brooke held herself still, frozen on Dex’s lap. She focused on the tattoo over his heart even though she couldn’t read what it said clearly in the limited light.

  “Gonna get off me?” his deep voice washed over her and she gritted her teeth. “Babe—”

  “Don’t fucking babe me.” She closed her eyes, trying not to lash out at the man who she still straddled. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t him.

  He didn’t do it.

  He wasn’t even aware of what happened. Like his Uncle Ace had said this morning in the pawn shop, he might have been about two when she was conceived.

  Conceived.

  That made it sound so much nicer than it was.

  “What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

  She opened her eyes and realized she was gripping his arms so tightly, he was wincing. “Snatch,” she murmured.

  His dark brows pinned together. “What?”

  “Snatch! Snatch! My mother was probably just considered snatch to you fuckers. To the Angel who got her pregnant.”

  “Her choice to fuck a brother.”

  “No!” She shook her head. Then the truth hit her right then. Like a ton of bricks. Smacked her right in the fucking face. What she couldn’t see clearly until that very moment. Until Hawk had called her snatch. “No. It wasn’t.”

  His body went solid against her. “What are you sayin’?”

  “It wasn’t,” she repeated as if those two words could explain everything.

  “Brooke.”

  She turned stinging eyes to him. And she realized that was the first time he actually said her name.

  “Brooke,” he breathed again.

  “What?”

  “Are you sayin’ an Angel fucked your mother without her say-so? That you were born from... that your mom was forced?”

  She took a deep inhale and attempted to steel her emotions. Tried to dull all those raw nerve ends that snapped and crackled at the answers to his questions.

  Those words in her mother’s diary... She never quite came out and said who. Or what. Or why. Or even exactly where. But the pieces of evidence, the clues she left behind. Maybe not on purpose. Maybe in an attempt to clean her own soul of the filth. Those clues all made sense now. All those scattered words suddenly came together like a puzzle creating a picture Brooke could now clearly see.

  Her mother didn’t cheat on her father.

  Her mother didn’t keep the truth from Brooke to be mean.

  Hell no.

  Her mother was protecting her.

  From the truth.
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br />   From knowing where Brooke came from. How she came to be.

  Now she knew why she was in Shadow Valley.

  And finding her so-called father was no more of a curiosity but now a necessity.

  He shook her and growled, “Answer me.”

  Dex stared at the woman still on his lap, the one who wouldn’t respond. His dick was still inside her, though that was about to change quickly. Talk of rape was like someone pouring ice water down his spine. With a frown, he slipped from her, leaving a mess and no way to clean up.

  Another reminder of how they hadn’t used a wrap. What a fucking stupid move that was.

  With a ragged sigh, she slipped to the seat next to him and grabbed her purse. Digging through it, she pulled out a couple of single-use wet wipes and a travel pack of tissues. She slapped a couple tissues and a wet wipe packet onto his chest then proceeded to clean herself up before wiggling back into her panties and jeans.

  “Good thing I’m on birth control. Wouldn’t want a repeat of history.”

  His nostrils flared and he ripped open the packet, wincing when the alcohol on the wet wipe stung his dick. “Don’t compare me to a fuckin’ rapist. Didn’t hear you say no once. Not fuckin’ once. Don’t throw that shit in my face.” He threw the used wipe onto the floor of the car then did the same after using the tissues.

  “Sorry,” was muffled as she pulled her blouse over her head and jerked it into place.

  “An’ you fuckin’ took over. Rode my dick like it was a stripper pole. Probably will get an infection from all the bites an’ scratches you gave me.”

  “I didn’t hear you say no, either.”

  “No shit. Ain’t stupid.”

  She shifted to lean back against the driver’s side rear door and watched him as he yanked his jeans back up his thighs and over his hips. He didn’t bother to fasten them.

  She jerked her chin toward his chest. “What’s with the nipple rings?”

  Dex shrugged. He got them after he was done getting his chest ink. He didn’t want Crow to see them while the man tattooed him since he didn’t need to hear shit from any of the brothers about them.

  He had told the sweet butts if they mentioned them to anyone, they would get kicked out of church for good.

  But now that Hawk knew... He was screwed.

 

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