Down & Dirty: Crow: Dirty Angels MC, book 10

by St. James, Jeanne

  They all knew what she was thinking. Kelsea could end up in a bad situation like Kiki and Jazz. Or even Bella. Something that would fuck her up for the rest of her life.

  “The woman needs some sense shaken back into her,” Kiki murmured.

  “I wouldn’t call her a woman. She’s acting like a brat,” Brooke said. “I love my sister but I’m scared to death for her. I just recently found her and I don’t want to lose her.”

  “So you have two job offers, Jazz,” Sophie said. “No reason for you not to stay in town. With us. With your family.”

  “And if you’re not interested in those two offers, we always need help at the gym,” Diamond added. “Especially with me being pregnant.”

  “Or here at the bakery,” Sophie offered.

  “Or even at the body shop. Since Diamond left, they haven’t found anyone reliable there, either.”

  Ivy nodded. “Jag’s always bitching about how no outsider lasts more than a few weeks.”

  “Well, yeah,” Diamond laughed. “It’s like being a kindergarten teacher over there.”

  “Isn’t that the fucking truth,” Jewel grumbled.

  “Oh, and working with D’s men is better?” Ivy asked, one eyebrow cocked.

  Jewel grinned. “Fuck yes. You’ve seen them. If I didn’t have D...” She sighed.

  “But you do. And two baby girls. So you’re very fertile. Don’t even breathe all that feral hotness in,” Jayde warned her cousin.

  “But, fuck, I can’t help but inhale all those masculine pheromones.” Jewel laughed. “When D isn’t paying attention, that is. When my ol’ man calls them all in for a meeting... I pretend I need to be in there to take notes.”

  “And do you?”

  Jewel snorted. “Hell no. I’m just sitting there with my ovaries exploding, my mouth watering, my eyes not knowing where to look first. My notes end up being a whole bunch of dick doodles.”

  Jazz covered her mouth to keep from giggling.

  “Fuck! I’m so jealous,” Jayde said with a laugh.

  “Mmm hmm. You should be,” Jewel said, also laughing.

  “Aaaaand on that note...” Kiki brought them all back to reality. “Jazz, you have plenty of offers, so think about it. You still have time before your tattoo is done, right? At least another month?”

  “Yes, he thinks two more sessions will do it.”

  “Well, now you know your options.”

  Ivy leaned in. “And, if you need it, the apartment above the pawn shop is once again empty. So you have a place to settle, if you need it. I’m sure Ace won’t mind.”

  Jazz nodded and thought about it. She never lived on her own in her whole life. So maybe that would be a good thing. Become independent, get a good job within one of the club businesses. Prove to Crow she could be responsible and independent. That she wasn’t just clinging to him because he was “safe” like he had suggested.

  Maybe that’s just what she needed to do. Talk to Ace about the apartment. Pick a place to work and settle into the sisterhood, like she belonged there.

  She did.

  As Crow’s ol’ lady.

  He just hadn’t realized it yet.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Crow left a trail of clothes as he moved across the bedroom floor. Wherever he pulled them off, he just left them where they fell. He’d pick them up in the morning. Right now, he was not in the mood to be neat.

  No, he was in the mood for something else.

  Three months it had taken to finish her tattoo. And tomorrow would be the last time she’d need to sit for it.

  Three months Jazz had spent in his bed. Soaked in his tub. Cooked and cleaned for him. Decorated his fucking house and turned it into a home.

  A home. Instead of just a roof over his head with a bed, a couch and an overpriced coffeemaker.

  Three months of her burrowing herself under his skin.

  Because at this point, he couldn’t imagine her not being in his kitchen, in his tub, in his bed.

  He’d always wanted her, even back then. Now he had her, but three months later he was still wondering if it was right.

  He had told her they were done after her piece was finished and he never told her otherwise, even after her telling him she loved him.

  In fact, after that, she never said it again.

  That was most likely his fault. While a “me, too” had automatically slipped out of his mouth, he’d left it at that.

  Because he wasn’t sure.

  Not about him loving her. If what he felt was love, then he did love her. He’d never told anyone in his life those words, not even his Lakota aunt who had so generously taken him in.

  But was what he felt actual love? Or just a deep caring?

  Every night when he came home and saw her curled up in his bed, he’d sit on the edge and watch her sleep. Her face was peaceful, not haunted like when she first showed up. Her body had filled out and she wasn’t starving herself any more. Wasn’t trying to be someone she wasn’t.

  Her hair was getting longer, and he could tell where her natural blonde ended, and the dyed part started. She said once the natural part grew longer, she’d have the salon-dyed ends cut off.

  He didn’t give a shit. As long as it wasn’t the depressing black, he was fine with it.

  The sex was good. Every week it got even better. He let her decide when she wanted to take it further. To experiment. To push her limits.

  So far, so good.

  He hadn’t had one complaint in that department. Because every time he got to sink into her wet heat, he felt like that was exactly where he belonged.

  She belonged in his bed, in his life, his house and on the back of his bike.

  Both Grizz and Momma Bear kept asking when he was going to claim her.

  He didn’t have an answer.

  Because he wasn’t sure.

  His instinct was to claim her. Take her. Keep her.

  But he couldn’t think about what was best for him, he had to think about what was best for her.

  Though he got the blessing from her grandparents, Hawk still wasn’t happy, thinking Crow was taking advantage of her.

  He wasn’t.

  He’d never do that to Jazz. Or any woman.

  The club VP was just looking out for Jazz like an overprotective father and Crow understood it. So he tolerated it.

  By the time he got to the bed, he was naked and like he did every night, he lifted the sheet and slid in.

  Like she did every night, she rolled into him, curling herself around him, throwing one of her thighs over his.

  Claiming him.

  He combed his fingers through her hair as he stared up through the dark to the ceiling and waited.

  Because also every night, it didn’t take long for her to wake up and want to explore.

  And since her tattoo would be finished tomorrow, he didn’t want to miss out on this one last time being with her.

  “Hey,” she said softly, her warm breath sweeping over his bare chest making his nipples pebble, probably as hard as hers were pressed against him.

  “Hey,” he answered just as softly.

  “How long have you been home?”

  “Just a few minutes.”

  She snuggled deeper into his side. She was naked. She went to bed naked every night and in the morning, she’d pick up his abandoned clothes and slip into the T-shirt he’d worn the previous day to make him breakfast.

  He loved every fucking second of that.

  Because when that first started, he told her that she could grab one of his clean tees from his drawer and she refused. She insisted she wanted to wear the one that smelled like him.

  And he loved hearing that, too.

  “Kachina,” he whispered.

  She lifted her head from his chest. “Yeah?”

  He forced himself to say, “Think tomorrow will be the last one. Just gotta do some touch-ups, then it’ll be done.”

  He didn’t mean just the tattoo and she knew that because her m
uscles tightened around him. She didn’t like hearing that.

  But it had to be said.

  He didn’t want her to feel obligated to stay. She needed to live her life, pick up where it left off, before she settled down. Not live in a biker’s house being his house mouse.

  She was much better than that. She deserved more.

  She melted against him again and her hand trailed along his belly to his dick, which was now hard, laying along his hip.

  Tonight needed to be the best time between them. He had to make sure she never forgot it. A positive experience for her to build upon for when she found someone else.

  Her fingertips traced his hard-on and she kept moving until she cupped his balls. She gave them a light squeeze, then traced his length again.

  Her little hot mouth sucked at the nipple closest to her face and she used her nails to lightly scrape along his skin from his sternum to his thighs.

  He always let her set the pace, no matter how much he wanted it otherwise. He didn’t want a repeat of what happened all those weeks ago that last time Mercy made a move.

  He closed his eyes and let the breath escape his lungs slowly as she shifted over him, giving him all her weight.

  He loved that, too. While she had filled out somewhat, she was still light. He let his hand drift over the smooth skin of her back, the indentation at the base of her spine, then over the round curves of her ass.

  She had a great ass.

  Maybe someday she’d be ready to let the right man take it. But tonight was not the time. And it would probably be a long time before she was comfortable enough for that. If ever.

  Especially since that was another place those motherfuckers violated.

  That usually took time and attention, but they’d just taken what they wanted. They took something that could be beautiful and special and made it ugly. So if she ever allowed that, it would be a man she would need to trust one hundred percent and who would have the patience of a Saint.

  For now, Crow just wanted her anyway she was willing to give herself to him.

  Whatever she was comfortable with, he gladly accepted. And everything she offered was like a gift.

  Because she trusted him. She felt safe with him.

  She loved him.

  He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes until they popped opened when her mouth wrapped around his throbbing dick. She had settled between his thighs with two fingers circling the root of his hard-on and with her fingers playing along his sac, she began to suck him hard and deep.

  They’d spent many nights doing this very same thing. She would lick, flick, suck and then pause to ask him what his preference was. Ask him what he liked and disliked.

  She had no idea that she was doing it, but what she was doing was edging. Nor did she realize he got off on that since edging made his orgasms even more intense. He didn’t tell her because he just wanted her to do what came naturally and not get self-conscious about it.

  Even so, it was like he was training her for some other man.

  Fuck.

  His fingers dug into her hair and he grasped the silky strands tightly. He managed to get out, “Lemme know if it gets to be too much, baby.”

  Because the urge to fist his fingers in her hair, hold her in place and fuck her face was overwhelming, but he was always cautious about how rough he could get.

  How demanding.

  Time and time again he’d have to fight to remain in control, especially when she’d take him to that very steep edge and then pull back.

  And, fuck, he loved it because when he finally got a chance to let loose, it was the best fucking come ever.

  But this time, she wasn’t stopping to ask questions, or pausing to gauge his reactions. No, she was sucking him almost desperately.

  Like she was trying to fucking prove something to him. Or to herself. Or maybe because this was the last time.

  Once the tattoo was done tomorrow, he was setting her free.

  She could head home to Buffalo or anywhere she desired. Just not back in his bed.

  Because he was going to do the right thing.

  Even if it fucking killed him.

  The club had let him go when his mother’s family showed up to claim him because in their eyes it was the best thing for him. It was the right thing.

  He had taken a life. Because in his eyes it was the right thing.

  Now he needed to do the right thing with his Kachina.

  His spirit.

  He had helped her get ready to fly. Now he needed to let her do just that.

  To keep her would be selfish.

  Her mouth was gone and, while he missed it, he realized she was hovering above his hips. With one hand on his dick, she was sliding the head between her own slick soft folds.

  When he started to reach for the drawer, she grabbed his arm to stop him. “No.”

  “Kachina, need a wrap.”

  “No. I’m covered. It’s covered.”

  “What’s covered?” He lifted his head off the pillow and tried to see her in the darkness of the room. He could only make out her silhouette.

  “I went on birth control over a month ago. The doctor said it would be safe now.”

  She did what? And didn’t tell him until now? “You sure?”

  “Yeah, he said a month. It’s been over a month.”

  Jesus Christ. That meant there would be nothing between them during their last time. He’d never taken a woman in his life without a wrap. Not once.

  And here, Jazz was giving him this gift, too.

  Why was she making this shit more difficult for him?

  But that question quickly disintegrated as she lowered herself on him and when that tight wetness surrounded him, squeezed him, his head fell back onto the pillow, and the air rushed from him.

  She was most comfortable on top and he didn’t complain about that, either.

  She was getting so good at that, too. She knew just how to move her hips to drive him to that edge, then pull back and leave him wanting more.

  She’d do it again and again until he was half out of his mind.

  He’d be torn between wanting to thrust up and come deep inside her, or trying to hold off to make it last longer.

  By allowing her to take her time and the lead, she’d learn exactly what she loved, too. What movements, positions, made her orgasm.

  He’d paid attention as well. He certainly had. Because the second she unleashed him and allowed him to take over, he did exactly what she needed. And once she pulsated around him intensely and that rush of wet slid over his dick and down his balls, he lost himself within her.

  Since this was their last time, he could only hope that once she was done taking her time with him, she’d hand over the control to him.

  Because not only did he want her to remember tonight. He did, too.

  With her hands planted on his chest, her thumbs brushed back and forth over the pebbled tips of his nipples. While she had discovered things about herself in the last three months, he did, too. He loved her playing with his nipples just as much as she loved him playing with hers.

  She began weeks ago by mirroring his actions, whatever he did with hers, she did in return. He learned the more attention he gave her tits, the more she’d clenched tightly around him, urging him on with whispers and whimpers.

  Reaching around her hips, he spread her ass cheeks and slipped his fingers low enough to where they were connected to gather some of her slickness, then used her natural lube to slide his index finger up and down her crease.

  She gasped and dropped her head, her hair a silky curtain sliding along the heated skin of his chest.

  He gently circled and stroked, making her groan his name.

  “Kachina,” he struggled to get out. “Tell me when.”

  His body was tight, his breathing as ragged as hers, and he was doing his best not to flip her over before she said it was okay. But tonight he wanted to be between her thighs while he was deep inside her. When he finally
let go.

  He needed to turn on the light because he wanted to watch her face, her unfocused green eyes, her parted lips, her reaction to each movement of his hips.

  But right now on his back, he remained still, except for his finger carefully teasing her in a place he avoided all these weeks. A sensitive area that she might grow to love touches, licks and more...

  The thought of getting her to the point of begging for him there made his hips buck up uncontrollably.

  “Baby, hit the light,” he urged.

  “Crow...” she breathed.

  “The light. Gotta see you.”

  She lifted up enough where he was almost completely free of her, but he tilted his hips so they could remain connected as she leaned over to turn on the small nightstand lamp.

  Then she shifted her weight again and impaled herself back on him as she straightened up.

  “Better?” she asked.

  So much fucking better. He let his gaze wander over her face, which was flushed, her bottom lip slightly swollen, probably from biting it. To her nipples which were pointed and puckered. Down the slight swell of her belly. Over her hips and landed on the trimmed, dark blonde hair which pointed to the spot where they were connected.

  He flexed his dick deep inside her and her eyelids dropped a little lower. She caught her lower lip within her teeth and stared down at him as she explored him just as thoroughly with her own gaze.

  “So fuckin’ beautiful, baby.”

  She released her bottom lip and smiled. “I should be telling you that.”

  “You just did.”

  “We fit,” she murmured, sliding her palms up his ribcage, her eyes following the same path. She skipped his nipples this time and traced his collarbones with her fingers. They trailed up his cheek and then she explored his face softly with her fingertips. Over his chin, jaw, his lips, the curve of his nose, his eyebrows, his forehead.

  Then she leaned forward and took his mouth.

  Fuck. She tasted so good.

  She deepened the kiss for a moment, then pulled away, her breath mingling with his.