His Dirty Girl

by Faye Byrd

“Ditto,” says Marianne, nodding.

  “Are you implying my skin isn’t important?” I ask, looking between them as if I can’t comprehend the idea. I don’t really give a shit what they think, but it’s fun to fuck with them. “Enzo would beg to differ. He loves my soft lips and everything I do with them.”

  “Good Lord.” Marianne laughs like she can’t believe a word I’m saying. “I wonder if Bob realizes how much of a pussy Enzo’s turned into.”

  I prop my hand on my hip. “Excuse me?”

  “No offense, Randi,” she says, waving me off. “I don’t mean to sound harsh. It’s just Bob would give him hell.”

  I shrug one shoulder, spotting an interesting pattern a couple racks over. “That’s between them. I know they’re close, so Robert will probably laugh at him and call it a day.”

  “Maybe,” she says, coming over with Elise to see what I’m so intent on getting.

  I pull the dress from the hanger and hold it up against my body. It lands mid-thigh, the perfect length, and the pattern isn’t too prissy or too edgy. It’s plaid, but it’s a cool-looking version in varying shades of blue. Much more modern than the usual lumberjack stripes.

  “That’s perfect,” Elise says, clapping excitedly.

  She shocks me with her enthusiasm for life. She’s a fucking full-fledged doctor and this exceedingly perky forty-year-old. You’d never peg her to be with an MC President like Carl. He’s a pot-bellied, over sixty hard-ass with a head full of waist-length hair and a beard that rests on his stomach. All of this is in this weird shade between blond and gray. I don’t know what she sees in him, personally, but whatever floats her boat.

  “Looks great,” Marianne agrees, eyeing me speculatively. “Maybe a pair of navy heels?”

  “I think so.” I look around. “Why don’t you and El grab a pair or two while I go and get the girl to let me into a dressing room? Meet ya over there.”

  I leave the women to it, making my way toward the front of the store. There’s a girl behind the counter, reading an issue of Cosmo, but she perks up when she sees me approach. “Hi. Did you find everything?”

  I hold up the dress. “I’d like to try this on.”

  “Perfect,” she chirps, grabbing a key. “Follow me.”

  We trail across the store, me following like a good little puppy, before coming to a row of three doors against the far right wall. There’s a woman waiting on a bench nearby, and a pair of legs is visible beneath one of the doors. The store attendant unlocks the door beside the one in use.

  “Here you are,” she says. “I’ll be up front if you need me.”

  “Thank you,” I reply as I enter the room.

  Hanging the dress on the back of the door, I tug my skin-tight jeans down and kick them off with my tennis shoes. The woman next door is talking to her friend out on the bench, and I tune them out as I put my focus on removing my top and grabbing the dress off the hanger.

  The door beside mine creaks just as I pull the dress over my head. Heels click against the tile. “My, oh, my. What do we have here?” The voice is snide and haggish.

  “Jessie,” Elise says, and I stop all movement, listening intently now. This bitch sounds like trouble. “Interesting seeing you here.”

  “Is it?” the woman says, and I can tell by her feet position that she’s turned to face the mirror on the outside of my door. “I heard Enzo’s in town. Did he send you to find me?”

  Marianne snorts, and Elise sounds pitying when she responds. “Oh, Jess. It’s been almost three years since your night with him. Why would you think he’d send me around town to hunt you down in a random store?”

  “Oh,” the woman says, and she’s still facing toward me. I suppose she’s glaring through the mirror at my companions. “Was it Carl, then? We both know that was more recent.”

  “Why you—” I hear a struggle and Marianne’s voice as she tries to calm a fiery Elise.

  So I do what any good friend would. I step forward and shove open the door, smacking this bitch in the face with the edge of the wood. “Oh, no.” I bring my fingers up to my lips and look at her with wide eyes. “I didn’t realize you were standing there.”

  “You, you …” she says, holding her nose while her friend scurries over and produces a napkin from her purse, handing it over. “You did that on purpose,” she accuses, pulling the tissue back to see blood.

  “I sure fucking did,” I snap, looking to make sure Elise is okay. “And if you know what’s fucking good for you, you’ll take your ass the fuck away from me. I don’t tolerate low-rent bitches talking shit to my friends.”

  “I’ll kick your ass,” she says, taking a step forward.

  With no warning, I grab the back of her head and slam it into the mirror. The door swings shut with a bang as I cram her face into it and lean down to murmur in her ear. “I said get the fuck outta here. Keep the clothes. They’re on Enzo and me.”

  This bitch freezes, slowly lifting her head. “E-Enzo?” Her brows furrow. “You know him?”

  I push her away from me and turn to neaten my dress. “Know him?” I make eye contact through the mirror. “He fucks me senseless every goddamn night.”

  “You’re lying,” she accuses.

  “It’s true,” Marianne butts in. “They’ve been together for years.”

  The stupid bitch looks to her, then back to me before smartly deciding she better get the fuck on. She lifts her chin. “I don’t believe you, but I also don’t care.”

  Without another word, she squares her shoulders and barges past Elise with her little silent friend in tow. They don’t even make it out of the store before we break into a fit of laughter. I’m not sure why some middle-aged bitch who dresses in clothes made for a teenager thought she could try me, but I guess she learned her lesson.

  “Gross,” I say, looking to Elise. “Enzo fucked that nasty bitch?”

  “Well,” she hedges, wringing her hands. “I think so.”

  “How old is she?” I’m having a hard time believing he was ever that desperate.

  “I don’t know. Mid-thirties?” She seems uncertain. “They’re close in age.”

  Ewww.

  I’m going to have to give him hell for fucking her. It’s one thing to be thirty-five, but when you’re thirty-five and look forty-five, you obviously have fucking issues. Shouldn’t he have known not to stick his dick in that hole? Ugh. Now I’m questioning his taste. You’re one lucky motherfucker when you can go from that to … this.

  “Excuse me.” I’m brought out of my musings by the girl from the front counter. “That lady just left, but she said you’re paying for her dress …” She trails off, looking nervous.

  Poor thing. I shouldn’t, but I said I would, and I don’t want to get the girl in trouble. “Absolutely,” I reply, smiling, and she relaxes. “We’ll be up front shortly with my other purchases.”

  “Thank you,” she says, turning to go but pausing to throw a compliment over her shoulder. “That dress looks great on you. I have the perfect shoes for it.”

  I look to my shopping partners to see what they brought. “Oh,” Elise says, grabbing up two pairs. “We picked these.”

  The girl shakes her head. “No. I have a better pair in mind. Size six?”

  “How did you know?”

  “I have an eye for these things. Get changed and I’ll meet you at the front counter.” She scurries off toward the shoe section.

  Marianne sneers at her back. “The ones we picked are perfectly fine.”

  “For someone more mature maybe,” I say, looking at the frumpy heels. “That girl understands me. We’re close in age.”

  Elise laughs lightly. “Randi, dear. That girl is barely sixteen.”

  “Whatever.” I stick out my tongue.

  We’re all laughing as I enter the stall to change. When Enzo and I first became a couple, I had no idea where it would lead, but now I know who we are and what matters to us. These two ladies have become like my mother and grandmother, in a sense,
and I love them dearly.

  Their men, however, don’t hold the same prestigious spots.

  THREE

  Partners

  Enzo

  “You can’t come,” I say, preparing for the argument she’s sure to give. “Carl doesn’t run his charter like I do, and he won’t allow a woman to be part of the meeting.”

  She sits up, her naked tits bouncing as she huffs. “Carl doesn’t tell me what to do, and neither do you.” She jabs a rigid finger my way. “I say where I go and what I do.”

  I smirk, loving the shit out of her fire, and pull her on top of me. Her skin, slick with sweat after a heavy morning workout, slides smoothly against mine. “I know you do, babe.” I press my lips to hers to soften the coming blow. “But this is Carl’s mission. You’re going to have to stay behind.”

  “No.” There’s not an ounce of give in her voice, and it’s sexy as fuck. “Carl may have say over who’s in the meeting, but he can’t stop me from joining Mikey in the van.” She sits up, straddling my waist, and her pussy is so fucking close my cock leaps toward it. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

  She doesn’t wait for a reply, instead lifting and impaling herself on my rock-hard dick. Right here with the early morning sun streaming through the window and lighting her from behind, she looks other-fucking-worldly as she rides me into submission. By the time she’s done, refusal isn’t an option.

  The rest of my morning entails getting served breakfast in bed—she’s still trying to butter me up—and then a sexy, steamy shower to wash away all the dirtiness from our morning activities. I’m not gonna say whether we got down and dirty again before cleaning up, though. After dressing, we finally join the others. Randi chills with the women while I go find the men and get the final details of our four o’clock meeting.

  I rap on the door as I push it open. The rest of the men, including Mikey, are seated around a table almost identical to the one Carl gifted me. His is older and worn around the edges, but it’s still just as beautiful and puts off the same sense of power as mine, only my seat is at the opposite end here—a guest.

  “Morning,” I say, pulling out a chair.

  “You mean afternoon?” Carl lifts a bushy brow, his beard twitching with amusement. “But no problem. It’s not like we’ve been waiting on your punk ass or anything.”

  “Good.” My lips twitch. “And now that that’s settled, we can get down to business.”

  Bob chuckles, shaking his head. “It always amuses me how little hell Carl gives you for your insolence.”

  “I’m a bad motherfucker.” I shrug a shoulder. “I imagine that has something to do with it.”

  “Just a little bit.” Carl holds up his thumb and pointer finger with a tiny space between them. “You get shit done in a no-nonsense manner. If I gotta put up with a smart mouth to achieve the type of results you deliver, then I’m good with that.” He cuts his ice blue eyes to Bob. “Besides, you raised the insolent motherfucker.”

  Bob throws up his hands. “Hey, you can’t blame me for that smart mouth. It was already developed when I met the little shit. Marianne shoved so much dish detergent down his throat I’m surprised he ain’t still hiccuping bubbles.”

  I flip him the middle finger, chuckling. “All right. Haha. Enough about me. Let’s talk about this sale.”

  Carl bobs his bushy head, settling his gaze on Mikey. “Show him the images.” Mikey taps on his keys, bringing up a mugshot while Carl keeps talking. “This is Handsy McCormick. He’s a low-level gun dealer who says he’s gotten his greedy fingers on a large stash. I don’t trust him, but I can’t pass up the opportunity.”

  “You sure it isn’t a sting?” This sounds off, and I can’t help but wonder why Carl would worry about a good deal if he thinks it might be bad. “This jailbird could be trying to lower his sentence or some stupid shit.”

  “Yeah, but at the cost of his life?” Carl asks, cracking his knuckles. “Everyone knows what happens when you fuck over the Lions.”

  “True.” I tilt my head, nodding once. “How good is the deal?”

  “Too good to pass up,” he says, staying entirely too cryptic for my liking. “On to the next guy.” He pauses while Mikey clicks a few more keys, bringing up another picture—this one of a man in a suit. “That’s Rupert Reynolds. He’s also a low-wrung player, but he doesn’t have the criminal record Handsy does.”

  “Are they a regular duo?” Bob asks, rubbing a hand over his bald head. “Or is this a first?”

  “I’ve bought from Rupert before,” Carl answers, looking to his VP, Hawk, who hasn’t said a word since I walked in. He and I aren’t the best of friends, but we do okay when it comes to business dealings. “Was Handsy a benefactor that one time, or was he just a flunky?”

  “He set up that one deal, but he didn’t take part in it.” Hawk doesn’t lift his eyes, choosing to stay focused on something irrelevent off to the side. “But I trust him. He ain’t no snitch.”

  “That’s good enough for me,” Carl agrees, nodding. “All right, then. Moving on.” He waves his hand at Mikey. “Show him the location.” Mikey gets to work and a map appears with a couple spots marked off. “The x is where the meeting will go down, and the check mark is where we can stash the van.” He taps the table, drawing my gaze to his. “By the way, I love this kid. I might keep him.”

  I chuckle off his remark. “Layla isn’t about to allow that shit. She can’t leave Crescent City until she graduates.”

  “Didn’t Randi already graduate?” Bob asks, making my explanation a lot harder.

  I narrow my eyes, letting him know I didn’t want to go into this shit. “She did, but Layla had issues with one of her classes. We think she’ll pass it this semester.”

  Carl breaks into a belly-shaking laughing fit, and I snarl at Bob because I know what’s coming. “You mean to tell me”—he pauses to laugh some more—“that this fucking genius is with a goddamn idiot?”

  Mikey tenses up beside me, and I love Carl like a grandad or some shit, but this is unacceptable. I jab my finger down on the table. “That shit’s not funny.” Carl pauses before a smile turns up his lips, and I can see the laughter coming. I stand to make my point. “How you treat your club members is up to you, but you don’t disrespect mine.” My glare is steady and intense.

  “Fine.” He sounds more like a petulant kid than the president of an MC, but what–the-fuck-ever. “I apologize to your lady, kid.”

  “No problem,” Mikey says, but I can tell by the tension in his fingers as they rest on the keys that it is a fucking problem. “Anything else you want Enzo to see?”

  “Nah.” Carl waves him off. “I just wanted him to see the layout and get a look at the players instead of going in blind.”

  “I got it all right here.” I tap my temple, smirking, before clearing my throat and moving on to my own piece of business. “Randi and I have agreed that she’ll be positioned in the van with Mikey.”

  Carl goes at it again, laughing like a fat old fart, and Bob joins him this time. The two geezers think they’re funny and that their laughs will make a difference, but they’re dead fucking wrong. What Randi wants, Randi fucking gets—or as close to it as possible. And in this case, she wants to be nearby when her big daddy goes into a meeting that isn’t on his terms, and I don’t fucking blame her.

  We’re a solid goddamn unit.

  “Laugh all you want,” I say, standing and shoving my chair beneath the table. “My girl is a fucking badass, and you’d do well to remember to stay on her good side.”

  I turn to leave, but before I close the door, I overhear Bob. “Guess the times are a changing, old man.”

  “I suppose they are,” Carl responds, and I smirk as I make my way down the hall to find my girl. Maybe we have time for a quickie before we go.

  At precicely three forty-five, we roll up on the spot where the van is going to be parked. It has an overview of the area, but we won’t be relying on that, as Mikey will have satellite surveillanc
e of the whole fucking hillside. He’ll be able to monitor any vehicles coming up the dead-end roadway and give me a real-time update if one shows up unannounced.

  “Are you sure Carl won’t let me come with you?” Randi asks, biting her plump bottom lip.

  She’s on her knees in the back of the van, and I’m standing on the ground, making us almost eye level. I grip her slim waist, my fingers pulling her loose tank out of the way as I search out her warm skin. Calming electric current accompanies the touch, and I smile.

  “I’m sure, babe.” I step closer, bringing my face close to hers. “But you can watch over me like a fucking boss from here. Mikey will have eyes on the entire area, and you’ll know before me if it’s a set-up.”

  “It better not be a goddamn set-up.” She grabs my shoulders, pulling my forehead against hers. “I’ll kill every single one of these motherfuckers.”

  I chuckle, my eyes falling closed as I picture her on that little rampage. They pop back open because yeah, it makes me hard. “I know you will, babe, and I love you for it.”

  I smash my lips to hers, and she meets me with identical fury. The fire that’s always smoldering ignites into a full-blown flame. My hands roam the expanse of her back, and my tongue explores her luscious mouth. Everything that matters to me is right here in my arms. I’ll spend the rest of my life bending to her every whim, and she’ll spend the rest of hers making sure no one fucks with what belongs to her. We’re a perfect match. Two halves of the same whole.

  “Christ, babe,” I murmur as I pull away. “You want me to go to this meeting with a hard cock?” She giggles, which tells me she’s imagining that shit. “Come on.” I pout, giving her my puppy dog eyes. “You don’t want those creeps checking my junk, do ya?”

  Her fingers roam down my stomach and brush against my jeans. I groan as she grips my cock through the rough material and leans forward. “I’ll cut their fucking eyes out,” she rasps, her teeth tugging my ear lobe.

  I take a step back, out of her devious reach. “You enjoy this, don’t ya?”

  She tilts her head, shrugging. “Maybe.”