Dirty Dealer: A Hero Club Novel

by Kacey Shea

  “Jude. Fuck me.” I arch back against him. “Please.”

  My face buries into the mess of pillows and hotel linens as he rolls me on my stomach. He lifts my hips and shoves a pillow under my belly. Straddling the back of my thighs he parts my folds with his fingers, pumping them inside me a few times before he replaces them with his cock.

  “Yes.” My moan rattles inside my chest.

  His body falls forward, covering my back with his chest as he moves. His thrusts are powerful. His movements practiced. He knows exactly how to stoke the desire within me. How to drive me wild. How to send me over the edge. This time isn’t like last night. There’s a vulnerability that comes with the light of a new day. A commitment that this is more than a one-night thing.

  “I’m so close.”

  “Give it to me, Rachel.” He presses a hot kiss to my back. He pounds me into the mattress with each thrust. Bending one of my knees and lifting it higher on the mattress, he moves at a different angle. His hand cups my center from the front, the other bracing the weight of his body. “Mine. This is mine. You’re mine.”

  The possessiveness of his words mixes with the touch of his fingers on my most sensitive flesh. My bundle of nerves bursts with sensation and I fly over the edge. Flying. Diving. Moaning as my orgasm rocks me from the inside out.

  “Fuck, yes.” His groan fills the room as his muscles tense. He pulls out as he comes, the warm, sticky fluid painting my back and butt cheeks in an erotic mess.

  I glance over my shoulder to watch his face twist in pleasure as his body shudders the last of his release. He runs his cock through the liquid on my bare ass. Fuck. That’s hot.

  He shrugs, his grin almost sheepish. “I think we need a shower. You’re all sticky.” His lightheartedness brings a smile to my lips.

  “You made the mess.”

  “And I’m not even sorry.” He winks, and holds a hand out to help me off the bed. “Come on. Let’s shower. I volunteer to make sure every inch of your body is clean before we leave this room.”

  An hour later we’re dressed and walking through the hotel’s lobby. “Let me check out and get the valet to bring up the SUV.” Jude squeezes my hand.

  “Sure. I’ll wait here.” Maybe I should be embarrassed wearing last night’s dress, all wrinkled, and with the bare minimum of makeup on my face. I’m not. How could I be when Jude rocked my world last night? Twice actually, and once again this morning. Pulling my phone out of my clutch, I flip through my social media accounts, liking and commenting on a few posts to pass the time while I wait.

  “Rae! Hey,” Jenni calls out, walking over from the hotel restaurant. A man at least ten years older, whom I assume is her date from last night, is at her side. She must’ve planned her overnight, though, because she’s wearing a causal sundress and sandals. “I didn’t know you were staying here. We could’ve had brunch!”

  “Oh, yeah.” I glance over to where Jude is heading back from the concierge desk. He smiles when he finds me staring. “It was kind of a last-minute decision.”

  “Good on you, Rae.” Jenni grins, but when Jude joins us, sliding his arm around my waist, her bright personality morphs into a tight frown.

  I don’t understand the sudden change. But honestly, I don’t care to stay and find out. “We better hit the road,” I say to Jenni and her date. “It was good seeing you again.”

  “Yeah, you too,” she says, glancing from Jude to me, her smile strained and reserved.

  “A friend of yours?” Jude asks on our way out to where the SUV waits.

  “Yeah.” I realize he never met Jenni. Every time he picked me up from the house, she wasn’t home. He probably doesn’t recognize her from the night we ran into each other at the club either. Crazy that feels so long ago now, when in reality it’s only been two weeks.

  “So, I say we stop at this great little pizza joint on the way back, then we don’t leave the condo for the rest of the day.” Jude fastens his seat belt, then shifts into drive. “Unless you’d rather do something else?”

  Ha! As if. “I declare the rest of Sunday a clothing optional holiday. Naps and sex are highly encouraged.”

  “I”—his jaw clenches and he releases a soft chuckle—“really love the way you think. Maybe we should make it a weekly tradition.” His implication of spending subsequent weekends together does a funny thing to my heart. I believe him, because in my mind’s eye I can picture a lifetime of Sundays with Jude.

  The smile that stretches my lips can’t be contained. “I’d like that a lot.” More than anything.

  43

  Jude

  I’ve had sex. Lots of sex. Good sex. But this weekend with Rachel makes it seems as if I haven’t been living. Fucking. Making love. Kissing. We come together, our bodies and minds more connected than I ever imagined two people could be. No other experience, no other partner comes close to comparison.

  Making her come is my new favorite pastime. I’ve had my fair share of hobbies, but eating her out is how I plan to spend my free time. Better than any video game, the challenge of getting her to thrash around while I lick up her center is like winning a prize. I’ve always been a great competitor. I’ve just finished making her come for the second time since we got back from San Diego when my phone buzzes from its perch on the living room couch.

  The name on the screen causes my chest to tighten. Mark. My mechanic.

  “Hey.” I kiss her before she can see who’s calling, and while she’s distracted I flip the phone over, screen down. A pinch of guilt deadens any desire below the belt. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go walk Walter.” Reaching for my boxers, still on the floor where we stripped down a few hours ago, I tug them on and push off the floor to stand.

  Walter eyes me from across the hall. He hasn’t ventured out of the bedroom but for a few times to judge us. I don’t know if it’s the sounds we make while having sex, or the fact we’re both walking around naked, but he won’t come into the living room. It’s hilarious. Who knew my dog was such a prude?

  “Give me a minute to get dressed.” Rachel scoots onto the couch, stifling a yawn. “I’ll come with if you want?”

  “No.” I shake my head, grabbing my phone. “It’ll be a travesty to put clothes on that body. Stay. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  “Okay.” She yawns, a sleepy, sexy smile on her face. “I’ll be here.”

  I lean over to press a kiss to her lips. An intense feeling of adoration presses against my chest, begging to be let out. The thoughts I have for Rachel are uninhibited and exponential. They scare me, if I’m being honest. Everything between us has been unexpected, but it’s too soon for any proclamations. I can be patient. I need to be. Besides, when it comes to Rachel, actions speak more than lip service, and I’m willing to put in the work.

  Turning away, I head down to the spare bedroom and throw on some workout clothes. I suppose I could return Mark’s call in here, but I don’t want to chance it. “Come on, buddy.” I whistle and walk to the door. Walter races forward to his leash.

  It’s not until I’m outside walking around the block that I return my missed call.

  “Jude! I just left you a message.”

  “Yeah, sorry I was a bit tied up at the moment.”

  “I just want to confirm tomorrow’s still good for delivery of the LeSabre. Your place?”

  “Yeah, I’ll let the front staff know to expect it. You can leave the keys with them, and I’ll have the payment ready like we discussed.” My words come out smoothly, but inside my gut twists with unease. Everything is about to change and I don’t want it to. Rachel will get her car and she’ll move back to her crummy apartment. I won’t get to see her smile every day. Share meals together, or fuck. My life is about to go back to normal, and instead of being happy, I dread it.

  “Good, good,” Mark says. “I’ll probably have one of my guys drop it off early, before the shop gets busy—about five or six. That okay?”

  “That works. Thanks again for keeping it
there an extra week.” It’s the only thing that feels right about this situation. This week with Rachel allowed us to grow closer. To become friends, not just lovers. Shit. I’m being a big baby. So Rachel gets her car back, that doesn’t change the most important thing, her and I, together.

  “Not a problem. Whatever you need, I’m happy to help.”

  Help. That’s why I did this in the first place. It’s why I had to keep this from Rachel, and why she can’t find out. She won’t accept my money or the things I can provide her, not if she views it as charity. Maybe that’ll change in time, but for now this is better. I’ll pay for the repairs and we can move forward building a relationship—something real—and a future full of love. I shake off the negative feelings and decide to view tomorrow as the start of the next phase of our relationship.

  “Come on, Walter.” I call him back from the planter he’s sniffing. “Let’s get back to our girl.”

  44

  Rachel

  It’s early Monday morning when my eyes snap wide open. I check the time on my phone, worried for a moment I’ve slept through my alarm, but my nerves calm when I realize I have another two hours to get to work.

  Today is the day. My car should be ready, and as much as I love Iron Maiden, I am going to miss commuting with Jude. I glance over and watch as his chest rises and falls with easy breaths. I can’t believe he’s mine. I can’t believe we’re here—together—after everything that’s happened the past two weeks. I couldn’t have survived it without him.

  Apprehension fills my chest when I think of moving back to my apartment. As much as I’d like to avoid that confrontation, I need to talk to my roommates. Rent is due tomorrow, so once I get my car I’ll head over after work. It’ll be different, living apart from Jude, but I have no doubt we’ll make it work. Besides, I’m certain I’ll still be spending many overnights at his place.

  An idea pops into my head. Glancing at his sleeping form, I slip from the bed, careful not to wake him as I head into the bathroom with a pile of clean clothes. Jude’s done so much for me, and I want to show him my appreciation. I’ve been meaning to cook for him; a breakfast would be the perfect surprise.

  He’s still sleeping soundly, and I smile to find Walter has stolen my spot on the bed. I don’t want to wake Jude, not when he appears so relaxed, and I don’t feel comfortable borrowing his SUV without asking. There’s a market nearby, and if I hurry, I’ll be there and back with plenty of time to whip up a quick breakfast before work. I’ll just splurge on an Uber. The surprise will be worth it.

  I grab my bag, the extra set of keys and my wallet inside, and head down to the lobby. The morning holds the gift of a new day, and my good mood can’t be soured, not even by a Monday. I wave at the security guard, a bounce in my step and permanent smile in place. I glance out the wall of windows and stop when I notice Iron Maiden in all her beastly glory pull up to the curb. Damn, I missed her.

  The driver comes inside and offers me a smile as he approaches the security desk. “Delivery for a Mr. Lawrence.”

  “Yes, he said to expect the car.” The security man hands over an envelope. “Mr. Lawrence left this for you. It’s the payment in full. Cash as requested.”

  There’s something about the mention of a paid bill that shoots a line of unease through my positive disposition. I should let it go. Jude and I haven’t really discussed it, but I assumed his mechanic would send me the bill. The fact arrangements have been made and discussed without me after I’ve spent every moment of the past forty-eight hours in Jude’s presence bothers me most. He would have brought it up, right?

  I shake off those worries, along with a wave of shame for even thinking Jude has any reason to lie or be deceitful. He’s nothing like my exes. Those suspicious ideas would never have crossed my mind before Ethan. I won’t allow my past to shadow my future. Besides, I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason why he never brought it up this weekend. Namely, we were too busy screwing like rabbits.

  “Thank you.” The driver of my Iron Maiden tips his ball cap. “You have a good day.”

  “You too.” The security guard smiles, then turns his back, my car keys in hand.

  Pulling out my phone to request a ride, I reach the door just as the mechanic guy does. He holds it open for me with a polite smile.

  “Hey, now. You better not be taking my ride,” he jokes, holding up his phone to show the same app.

  “I make no promises.” I laugh as I’m matched with a driver. I tap on the screen, then nod to where my car is parked on the curb. “Now that’s a model you don’t see every day.”

  “Yeah.” He chuckles, his gaze amused as he taps on his phone before tucking it in his pocket. “Not in this part of LA anyway. The guys at the shop have been coming up with names for it all week.” He shrugs, appearing a little embarrassed. “Sorry, that’s a thing car people do, which sounds incredibly weird when I say it aloud.”

  “You happen to be in good company. I always name my cars. And that one, she looks like an Iron Maiden.”

  His brows rise. “Oh yeah? Interesting choice. I like it. She’s kinda a beast.”

  I nod to the logo stitched onto the breast pocket of his shirt. “You made the repairs?”

  “Oh, nah. My uncle owns the shop.”

  “What other names did this LeSabre acquire?”

  “Um, let’s see. There’s Flo, as in Flo Rida. Rustee. Farrah, as in Fawcett. The others I won’t repeat in the company of a woman.”

  “I appreciate your decorum.” I rock back on my heels, and check the status of my ride. Only a few minutes away. “So, you make a lot of drop offs?”

  “Yeah, I’m surprised this is the delivery address. Mostly, I’m driving Maseratis and Camaros in this zip. But to each their own. I’m gonna tell the guys at the shop about the Iron Maiden suggestion; they’ll get a kick out of that.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Yeah, usually we don’t come up with so many names, but then again, most cars are off the lot as soon as they’re repaired. That one has been at the lot all week, so we got extra creative.”

  Wait, what? “The LeSabre was already repaired? For a week?” I swallow back the urge to raise my voice. “You’re positive it was this LeSabre?”

  He laughs. “Uh, yeah. We don’t get many of them. I’m sure.”

  “And you’re sure it was repaired? That it wasn’t waiting for a part or something?”

  “Oh, I’m positive. It’s been done since Tuesday. My uncle said the guy who hired him to fix it said he’d pay him extra to keep it until today. Rich people.” He shrugs and lifts his gaze to the Prius rolling up the drive. “I think this is me.” He digs into his pocket. “Hey, I know this is probably out of the blue, but here’s my card. I’m Ryan, and that’s the number to the shop. If you ever want to grab drinks sometime, or even need a car repair. Give me a call.” He hands me the card.

  I take it numbly, feeling off kilter and stunned.

  Iron Maiden was sitting in a repair shop, completely repaired, since Tuesday. Why would—? My gut churns at the thought of Jude paying extra to keep my car from me. It paints our entire week in another light. Was this all a game to him? Was he manipulating me to get what he wanted? Am I just another acquisition?

  Hurt morphs to anger, and I turn around, marching back into the condo’s lobby. “Excuse me.”

  The security guard meets my gaze. “Yes, ma’am. How can I help you?”

  “I’m a guest of Mr. Lawrence. I’ve been staying with him this week.”

  “Yes, Mr. Lawrence informed us.” Good. That’ll make this easier.

  “He had my LeSabre delivered. It’s sitting outside, and I need to grab the keys now.”

  “Oh.” The guard’s smile dims. “I was not informed of that plan.”

  “It’s my car. You can check the registration in the console. I’ll show you my driver’s license too.” I steady my voice so it doesn’t waver with emotion. “I need it to get to work, and Mr. Lawrence is feeling a littl
e under the weather. He’s still sleeping and I’d rather you don’t disturb him.”

  The guard doesn’t move. Fuck. I’m gonna have to pull out all the stops. With more attitude than I feel at the moment, I put my hand on my hip and lift my brows. “He did tell you it was being delivered today, yes? And that it was my vehicle?” I’m officially a sassy California asshole.

  “He did.” His gaze flicks down to his desk a few times, as if weighing his reply. He scoops up the set of keys on the counter. “I guess we can go take a look at the registration. As long as it matches, I don’t see why you can’t take the keys.”

  Thank God. Because I can’t imagine confronting Jude right now. Not without losing my mind, or melting down. He lied to me. He deceived me. My nostrils sting and my chin wobbles as I think of what he’s hidden from me. Betrayal follows me around like a ghost I can’t shake. Jude was going to be different. I trusted him. I gave him my heart. He played me for a fool. Just like every man I’ve ever slept with. Shame on me.

  45

  Jude

  I roll over, my muscles and body tight from overuse, my mind halfway between sleep and wakefulness. I reach for the beautiful minx responsible for my fantastic night of rest. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve slept so deeply and so soundly in years. But there’s no body next to mine, and as I sit up, rubbing my eyes and adjusting to the dark room, I realize Rachel is gone.

  “Rachel?” I call out. Then pat the covers where she should be. Cold. She’s been up for a while. Fuck. What time is it? I flip on the light at my bedside table and reach for my phone. It’s still early, but she’ll be leaving for work soon. Damn. I really did sleep like the dead. We won’t have time for a quickie. If my morning wood could talk, he’d whine in disappointment. After the past thirty-six hours, it’s a miracle he’s up and ready for more. But apparently, my sex drive is as insatiable as Rachel’s.