Down & Dirty: Dawg (Dirty Angels MC Book 7)

by Jeanne St. James

  “Yes, someone does,” she breathed, brushing a hand over his hard dick.

  “Keep teasin’ me an’ gonna lock the back door an’ take you right here on the table.”

  “You wouldn’t do that.”

  “Try me.”

  With a laugh, Emma took his mouth and kissed him hard. He groaned and tangled his tongue with hers. He wouldn’t ever get enough of this woman.

  And once things were on the right track with Caitlin, he was going to talk with Em about them trying to have their own kid. One that was a piece of both of them.

  After their breathing became ragged, and Dawg’s dick couldn’t get any harder, Emma broke the kiss and pressed her forehead against his, whispering “Everything’s going to be all right, baby.”

  “Know it. Got you. Got Lily. Gonna get Caitlin.”

  “And we all have you. We’re the lucky ones.”

  No. She had that wrong. No one was luckier than him.

  No one.

  Dawg couldn’t stop bouncing his leg. He tried. It was simply impossible. He sat at the table in the diner, waiting. He had been a half hour early, and he was ready to climb the fucking walls.

  He was glad none of his brothers were there to witness what a basket case he was acting.

  He thought about having this initial meeting under the pavilion in the courtyard at church. But Emma talked him out of it. She said it would be better to find a neutral location.

  One where no one would be interrupting.

  And he wasn’t sure how he’d act if one of the hang-arounds or prospect even remotely eyeballed Caitlin. He’d hate to be hauled off for murder before he even got to know his teenaged daughter.

  His heart stopped when the diner’s front door opened and Hawk came through the door. Hawk was so fucking big he couldn’t see if his daughter was behind him. But Hawk didn’t approach the booth where Dawg sat, he stepped to the side instead and gave him a chin lift.

  Dawg returned it and noticed a very pregnant Kiki leading Caitlin over to him.

  When she reached the table, the club’s attorney gave him a wink. He jumped to his feet and yanked on his cut to straighten it.

  “Caitlin, this is your... father,” Kiki introduced him in a gentle tone.

  “Cait,” his daughter said to Kiki. Then she faced Dawg. “I go by Cait.”

  “Hi, Cait,” Dawg greeted, suddenly unable to see her clearly because something was in his eyes. But he knew she had his green eyes and dark blonde hair. And she was tall for an almost fifteen-year-old. She was a spitting image of him, though much prettier and way more feminine. He rubbed roughly at his eyes. Now was no time to break the fuck down.

  “I look just like you,” she stated with a curious tilt to her head.

  His heart swelled. “Yeah.”

  “What’s with the vest?” she asked, jerking her chin up and eyeballing his cut.

  He liked how outgoing she was. Unafraid to ask questions. “Represents family,” Dawg answered.

  She nodded as if she understood. Even though he was sure she didn’t. But she would. Eventually.

  “We’re going to go,” Kiki said softly, with one hand to her huge belly. “Hawk and I will be waiting outside to take you back home when you’re done, Cait. Okay? Whenever you’re ready.”

  Caitlin nodded without looking at Kiki since she was too busy staring at Dawg. He shuffled his feet, wanting to ask her to sit down. But he froze when she asked, “What should I call you?”

  He took a deep breath, then said, “My name’s Dawg. But would love it if you called me Dad.”

  Turn the page to read the first chapter of Down & Dirty: Dex, book 8 of the Dirty Angels MC series

  Down & Dirty: Dex Sneak Peek

  Turn the page for a sneak peek of the next book in the Down & Dirty: Dirty Angels MC series.

  Down & Dirty: Dex Sneak Peek

  Chapter One

  Dex had a fucking half-chub. He grimaced because he needed to adjust it, but if his sister caught him doing so, she would give him shit. He glanced over his shoulder through the large picture window into the pawn shop’s office where Ivy sat working in front of a computer.

  Fucking hell.

  Then his neck twisted once again to stare at the woman who was wandering around Shadow Valley Pawn pretending to check out the items for sale.

  She was faking it and he wanted to know why.

  It was possible she was just trying to pass the time. Maybe she’d been sent here from that asshole rival MC, the Shadow Warriors, to case the joint so they could wreak future havoc.

  They hadn’t heard from those outlaw nomads in a while, so it was about time for them to show their bastard faces.

  But no matter why the woman was here, Dex couldn’t ignore the fact that the woman was fucking dick-hardening sexy.

  Smoking hot.

  Tall. Leggy. And tits that made his mouth water.

  Fuck.

  Now his half chub was a full-blown hard-on.

  Fuck it. He reached down and yanked it to a more comfortable position.

  Fuck Ivy. She could bitch all she wanted.

  If he was lucky, she hadn’t noticed.

  Now that he wasn’t so uncomfortable, he leaned back against the counter behind the glass display case and crossed his arms over his chest as he continued to check the “customer” out.

  Her hair was like a strawberry blonde. He was pretty sure that’s what chicks called it. Not as red as his sister Ivy’s and not as light blonde as Emma’s, Dawg’s ol’ lady. An in-between.

  He could imagine the woman on her knees in front of him, his dick in her mouth, his fingers wrapped tightly in her hair and her head bobbing up and down.

  Fuck yeah.

  His dick twitched, and his balls pulled tight as he wondered if the carpet matched the drapes.

  For fuck’s sake, he never wanted to lick a carpet as badly than he did at that moment.

  He needed to see the color of her eyes. He wanted to imagine what they would look like when she tipped them up toward him as he blew his load into her mouth.

  He groaned. Then groaned again when she ran her fingers over a marble sculpture that reminded him of some ancient dildo.

  Yeah, that’s it.

  When she circled the base of the sculpture with her fingers, a soft whimper escaped him before he could stop it.

  Fuck. He was going commando today and his dick was making a mess in his jeans. He shifted, then shifted again as the denim scraped the sensitive head.

  He might have to go back into the storage area, lock himself in a closet and relieve the load in his balls.

  He checked over his shoulder once more to make sure Ivy was doing whatever she did. Her head was down and she was busy typing away on the keyboard.

  His gaze shot back to the sex-on-a-stick who was now running her thumb over the crown of the...

  It was a fucking sculpture!

  Why the fuck did Ace accept that pawn? No one in their right mind would pay a grand for a marble thing that looked too much like a dick.

  Maybe this chick would since she seemed fascinated by it.

  He pushed off the counter, adjusted himself one more time, and strode over to where she stood fondling the...

  “Hey.” He winced as his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and dropped his voice an octave. “Hey, you need any help?”

  Glancing up from running her finger up and down the smooth veiny marble, she pinned him in place with...

  He couldn’t tell what color her eyes were. They were blue, but not a typical blue. Like a greyish blue, sky blue, slate blue, whatever. He had no fucking clue since they seemed to keep changing the longer he stared at her. Maybe it was because of the lack of blood to his brain.

  “What are they?” he asked as if in a trance.

  “What?” she asked softly.

  “Your eyes. What color are they?”

  She raised her brows and tilted her head to study his face. “Do you ask all of your customers that?”
r />   Just the ones that make my dick hard. “Yeah, it’s a requirement.”

  “Like a credit check?”

  “Somethin’ like that.”

  Her lips twitched, and she shrugged. “They’re blue.”

  Simple enough. Those blue eyes met his and he pictured himself pumping his cum down her throat.

  She jerked her head toward his now throbbing dick. “Do you always sport wood when you talk to your customers, too?”

  Dex smiled, but kept his hand from creeping down to touch what she was looking at. “Depends on who the customer is.”

  “You know that’s sexual harassment, right?”

  He frowned. “What is?”

  “Undressing me with your eyes the moment I walked through the door, staring at my tits, standing this close to me with a hard-on.”

  “Well, maybe you shouldn’t jerk off a marble dick.”

  Her gaze bounced to the sculpture, and she removed her hand. “Is that what it is?”

  “Dunno. Don’t care. Just know I’d like to be in its place.”

  She clicked her tongue. “I guess you didn’t hear what I just said.”

  “Nope.” He grinned. “Haven’t touched you yet. When I do, you can warn me again about my bad behavior.”

  “Or misbehavior.”

  Dex shrugged. “Just wanna let you know, I like what I see.”

  “So, the marble sculpture turns you on?” Her eyes crinkled at the corners.

  “You touchin’ it did.”

  “No filter, huh?”

  “Whataya mean?”

  “You just say,” she waved a hand around, “whatever’s in your head.”

  “Yep. Pretty much.”

  She laughed and shook her head.

  Damn, that laugh didn’t help the little problem in his jeans. Fuck that, his big problem.

  “I guess you work here?”

  “Yeah,” he grunted.

  She jerked her chin at his cut. “Is that a uniform all the employees wear?”

  “Some of us.” At least Ace and Dex wore the Dirty Angels MC colors. Ivy didn’t wear her ol’ man’s cut. And Ace had a couple of part-timers who worked in the pawn shop, but they weren’t a part of their club. “Ain’t a uniform. It’s a cut.”

  “I know what it is,” she answered.

  Dex pursed his lips and ran his gaze over her from top to toe. Sexual harassment be damned. Did the Warriors send her in?

  Would those fuckwads even know a woman who looked like her?

  She wore jeans that hugged her thighs and hips, brown high-heeled boots that went up to her knees, and a tight long sleeved-top that... yeah, emphasized her rack. A brown leather coat was tossed over her arm.

  “Don’t look like a biker chick,” he murmured.

  “What does a biker chick look like?”

  Good fucking question.

  The buzzer went off, indicating the front door to the shop had opened, and Ace stepped inside. His uncle’s eyes immediately landed on them and Ace shook his head.

  As he passed, he gave Dex a pointed look. Ace didn’t like Dex flirting with the customers. He’d warned him time and time again not to turn into Pierce, the former DAMC president, who was a total dick and liked to take advantage of women by...

  Sexually harassing them.

  Fuck.

  He shuffled his feet, hoping Ace didn’t spot his hard-on, and cleared his throat again. He was supposed to be helping customers and making sales, not chasing them away.

  “So... you wanna buy that... thing?” He cocked an eyebrow toward the sculpture.

  “For a thousand bucks? I could buy a Rabbit cheaper.”

  “What?”

  “I said no.”

  That wasn’t what she said. He had no idea what a rabbit was, besides the kind that hopped. But maybe he should find out.

  Later. When he was alone.

  “So if you don’t want it, what are you here for? What are you lookin’ for?”

  “My father.”

  The guy was handsome... sort of. In a bit of a rough biker way. But he wasn’t bad. He didn’t have a beer gut. Yet. And he didn’t have a long beard. Yet. Unlike the older man that had just entered and walked through the pawn shop in worn jeans, heavy biker boots and wearing a similar cut as this one’s.

  Brooke’s gaze went over to where the man stood behind the counter. Could he be him? Her father?

  “Who’s your father?”

  Her attention was drawn back to the man before her. Colorful tattoos spilled over his forearms, from where his long-sleeved thermal shirt was pushed up past his elbows, down to his wrists. He sported a small gold hoop in one ear and a couple fingers were encircled by clunky brass-colored rings. A wide band of leather wrapped around his left wrist. So typical of a biker. “Trying to figure that out.”

  He had good teeth, though, and he looked clean. Well, except for his leather vest. The patches were dirty. But then it wasn’t like he could throw his cut into the washing machine. A white rectangular patch over his right chest said “Secretary.”

  “Why would you come here, though? Gotta have a reason.”

  Brooke moved behind the biker to read the back of his cut. She reached out and brushed her fingers over the top rocker of his colors. “Because of that.”

  He twisted his head. “What?”

  “What your patches say.”

  He spun around to face her. “Fuckin’ speak English.”

  She shrugged. “Okay. Like I said, I’m looking for my father.”

  His dark brows furrowed. “And what does that have to do with the DAMC?”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s a member. Or was. At least when I was conceived. Not sure if he still is.”

  Brooke watched a look cross his face. It held a mixture of disbelief and surprise. Her gaze dropped to his name patch. Dex.

  She wondered what that name meant. Surely all bikers had a nickname. “Dex.”

  “Yeah,” he grunted, then turned to yell across the shop to the older biker behind the counter. “Ace, you got another kid you don’t know about?”

  The older biker’s eyes widened, then narrowed as they landed on Brooke.

  “What the fuck you talkin’ ‘bout?” this “Ace” grumbled as he rounded the long glass display counter and headed in their direction.

  “A kid. As in, you knocked up a bitch an’ didn’t know?”

  Brooke sighed. She should take offense at this Dex calling her mother a bitch. Hell, she should take offense at the way he fucked her with his eyes.

  Ace was pulling on his long salt and pepper beard as he approached and eyeballed her up and down. Almost as if he was trying to see if she looked familiar. She did look like her mother, at least before the cancer turned her into nothing but a shell.

  Ace’s voice was gruff and worn like his cut. “How old are you?”

  Some women would also take offense to that question. But she was here for a specific reason, so it would be smart for her to answer. “Thirty.”

  Ace snorted and ran a hand over his brow as if he was wiping off sweat. “Ain’t mine. Janice had me neutered after Diesel came outta her like a wreckin’ ball.”

  Brooke should feel relieved that this biker wasn’t her father. But she wasn’t. Disappointment crept in before she could knock it away. Because that meant she had to keep looking.

  “Also, haven’t fucked anyone other than Janice since Hawk was conceived on the back of my sled. Knew right then it was true love.” He shot her a wide grin and then leaned closer like he was about to tell her a secret. “Yeah. Tight pussy over a Harley. Nothin’ better than that.”

  Dex whacked Ace on the arm. “True, brother. Maybe good head’s a close second.” His eyes landed on her lips.

  Brooke tipped her head down to hide the roll of her eyes. She needed to keep them on the topic at hand. “I’m sorry. I just know he’s a biker and might own a business in Shadow Valley. I asked around town, and there seems to be a few businesses owned by bikers, so I’m stopping
at them all. This just happened to be the first one on my list.”

  “Well, the only bikers workin’ in this shop are me an’ Dex here. An’ this boy might be a horny fucker but doubt he knocked anyone up when he was two.”

  Brooke fought the twitch of her lips. “Are you two related?”

  “Uncle. An’ club brothers,” Ace stated, then tilted his head. “Sure your pop was an Angel?”

  “Pretty sure.”

  “How come you’re only lookin’ for ‘im now?”

  “My mom passed away a couple months ago, and when I was going through her things, I found out my father wasn’t really my father. Or at least he wasn’t my biological father.”

  Ace regarded her for a long moment. “Got a name?”

  Brooke shook her head. “Nope. Just found some things hidden away in the attic. Some of it mentioned your MC and it was dated about the time I was born.”

  “You think she hung ‘round the club thirty years ago?” Ace asked her.

  Brooke shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not sure how involved she was with this biker. Might have been just a one-night stand since she was married when she got pregnant with me. Whatever happened, she never talked about it, never told me the truth. I always just assumed my father was... my father. His name was even on my birth certificate.”

  Dex shifted next to her. “So why do you think he ain’t your father?”

  She regarded him for a moment. “Besides the stuff that I uncovered? I found it curious that I never looked like him. I never looked like my brother or sister, either. I just didn’t fit in.” Though, she looked like her mother, she looked nothing like her father, while her younger siblings did. Brooke had always wondered about that, but never got a good answer. So she let it go. Until she began to wonder again as she cleaned her mother’s house out, and came across a few things that made her question who her real father was.

  “D’ya ask your pop?” Ace asked her, hands on his hips.

  She shook her head. “No, he died from a heart attack when I was a teenager.”

  “Damn. Lost both your mom an’ pop. Sorry to hear that,” Ace mumbled. “But still don’t get why you’d think your biological father was an Angel. Just a few mementos, or whatever, don’t indicate shit. Been a member of this club forever. Hell, I was born into it. My pop was a foundin’ member. So I know everyone who’s come an’ gone an’ has worn our colors. Had to be a brother who was ‘round my age or older. Unless...”