Down & Dirty_Zak

by Jeanne St. James

  She was more fascinated by the club, its members, its way of life than she wanted to admit. Though Zak said they lived “easy and free,” she didn’t think they did. They answered to each other. They were tied down to businesses. She had a feeling their sense of “freedom” only came when they were on their motorcycles hitting the open road.

  And right now, the weather in Pennsylvania was too cold for that.

  Sophie turned on the small lamp on the nightstand. It had a bandana over the ratty lampshade to give the room a soft red glow. Though, not bright enough to wake up the man sleeping next to her.

  She shifted until she laid close enough to study his naked chest. She’d never been with anyone with more than one small tattoo. Even that was years ago. Zak had more tattoos than naked skin.

  She wondered how many he got while in prison. She couldn’t imagine being locked up for a whole decade for something you didn’t do. That had to be frustrating as hell. It made her a little sad, too, since he was now thirty-two and went in when he was twenty-two. He missed a lot of his young adulthood. Instead of exploring life, living hard and free, he’d been pacing a cell. Most likely forced to watch his back every minute of every day.

  How heartbreaking to have to live like that.

  Her eyes roamed his chest and his tattoos. Each one seemed to tell some sort of story. She brushed her fingers over the Lady Justice designed as a sexy pin-up girl holding the scales of "injustice” over his right pectoral muscle. The scales were unevenly tipped to one side. A permanent reminder of what happened to him with his conviction.

  Her fingers trailed over to his left pec where a black and white portrait of a man’s face sat over his heart with the letters “RIP” underneath it and “BEAR” over top. Zak’s grandfather, murdered by a biker from another outlaw club.

  His right bicep sported a Harley emblem clutched within a Bald Eagle’s claws. In full color, it was impressive and very well detailed.

  A waving American flag dressed his left bicep with the words “Live to Ride” over the top and “Ride to Live” under the flag.

  The words “Down & Dirty ‘til Dead” ran down the inside of one arm in large black lettering. She traced each block letter with her finger. Then there were numerous smaller tattoos filling in the negative space, including a black and white skull with a red bandana wrapped around its forehead, a smoking cigarette clutched between its teeth. The letters DAMC were inscribed on the bandana.

  She pushed the sheet lower on his hips to see the beautiful, but huge, red and black Scarlet Viper that literally snaked around his hips.

  The sheet started to rise. Either someone was awake or enjoying her light touch in his sleep very much.

  She slipped the sheet farther down, watching him grow before her eyes. Without looking at him, she slid down the bed, circled the root of his cock with her fingers, and took him into her mouth.

  His breathing no longer sounded steady, his fingers no longer relaxed as they dug into her hair, guiding her mouth up and down his length. He tasted salty and all male. Cupping his sac with her free hand, she squeezed gently as she came down on him, taking as much of his length as she could. His hips rose off the bed in an attempt to go even deeper.

  Without releasing him, she moved in between his open legs. She wanted to watch him, see his reaction. When she tipped her eyes to his, he met hers and didn’t let go as her mouth glided up and down his steely length over and over. His face went from lax to tense in moments. His body tightened, stilled, and he grunted loudly.

  “Babe,” he groaned. His fingers gripped her hair so tightly that the pull on her scalp started to burn. But she didn’t care. Like the spanking, it turned her on. She wanted him to pull harder. “Fuck.”

  She traced the tip of her tongue along the thick vein, then around the crown and back down, sucking the delicate area where his cock met his balls.

  “Fuckin’ Sophie,” he groaned again. “Need to stop.”

  No, she wasn’t stopping. If sucking him made her wet, watching the pleasure on his face made her even more so. Her pussy clenched with need, making her think she might even climax at the same time he did without anything or anybody even touching her.

  She lifted her head only long enough to say, “Wrap,” and then her mouth, her tongue, continued its path, made his hips twitch, his fingers tug. One hand released her hair, and she heard a clatter as he desperately reached for a condom.

  She paused again. “Hurry.”

  “Fuck,” he barked.

  When she heard the tear of the wrapper, she moved faster up and down, sucking harder, taking him deeper down her throat.

  “Fuck! Now, Soph, now.”

  She released him and crawled over him as he rolled the condom on. And no sooner that he had it unrolled, she straddled his hips and sank down, taking him fully. Within seconds, her head fell back, a cry escaped her lips, and she came, rippling around him.

  Zak grunted as she continued to ride him hard, not even pausing during her orgasm.

  “Babe, look at me.”

  She opened her eyes and met his blue ones, darker than she’d ever seen before.

  “Goddamn,” he muttered, digging his fingers into her hips. “Come again.”

  “Touch me.”

  One hand moved from the curve of her hip to her breast, cupping, squeezing, teasing the hard nub of her nipple. The other dropped lower, finding her sensitive clit, circling, pressing, flicking... then squeezing until she almost shot up off him. When she slammed back down, the waves of her second orgasm took her under. He went with her this time, grunting louder, cursing.

  Then he stilled.

  She stilled, too, weak and boneless once again. Her pussy still throbbed while his cock continued to pulsate deep inside her.

  “Swear to Christ, you’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned.

  “Then we won’t do this again.”

  “Rather die that sweet death than go without.”

  “Just remember, this isn’t a thing,” she said softly, more to remind herself than him.

  “Babe, was a thing the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  She was afraid he was right.

  This thing was getting out of hand. Slowly, this biker club was embedding itself into her life. No, not just embedded, painfully implanted. She hadn’t signed on for this. Not at all. Just sleeping with one of the members apparently caused a snowball effect that was getting out of control.

  When she came down to the bakery this morning—early, like really early to get a start on Tuesday’s menu items—she was surprised to find someone else in the shop and it wasn’t Bella, who was due to show up for her first day of training.

  The person who hunched over a new hole in the wall was certainly not as pretty as Bella, nor as verbal.

  He was of the grunt, grunt, chest pound variety. And a large one at that.

  Though, she couldn’t help but check out Diesel’s ass now that it was covered in denim. Sophie tilted her head trying to decide if his glutes looked better in jeans or naked.

  It was a toss-up.

  When her gaze rose, she realized that the huge hulk of a man was glancing over his shoulder at her, wearing a grin.

  Damn. Busted.

  “Could’ve joined us.”

  “I already got a lecture about doing other ‘brothers.’ So, no thanks, don’t need that hassle.”

  Not that she would ever consider doing a threesome with this hulk of a man, with not only another woman, but in a bathroom to boot.

  He grunted and went back to doing whatever he was doing. Which, by the way, she had no idea what he was doing.

  “Is there any reason why you broke into my shop so early in the morning?”

  “Got shit to do.”

  Sophie pursed her lips, wondering if it was worth the frustration to keep asking questions. She decided it wasn’t and moved closer, attempting to peek around him, which was not an easy feat since he was not only tall—too tall to see over his shoulder—but wide
with what looked like solid muscle. She could only imagine the rest of him matched his glorious ass.

  But, again, he wasn’t worth the headache, and she already had a bad one that wouldn’t go away. Even if that headache was good in bed.

  How he put that hole in the wall without her hearing it upstairs, she’ll never know. He probably punched the hole with his beefy hands.

  “Security system?”

  Grunt.

  “Right. Well, I assume you want coffee. I’ll get a pot going.”

  Grunt.

  Sophie bit her lip. “Did you at least unlock the front door for the customers?”

  Grunt.

  She smothered her laugh. Surprisingly, she wasn’t frustrated. It was turning out to be quite entertaining to bother him with questions.

  “Did I tell you your ass is really fine?”

  No grunt this time. His eyes slid to her and he gave her a chin lift. She was starting to really understand this caveman speak.

  “You’re welcome. If I had to see someone’s naked ass, I’m glad it was yours. Absolutely spectacular.”

  Diesel returned his attention to the wiring he was working on, but not before Sophie noticed his nostrils flare.

  “I mean, Zak’s is really nice. But yours …damn,” she finished off in a whisper, then wandered to the front of the shop, unlocked the front door, but schooled the amusement off her face before turning and heading back behind the counter to start the coffee.

  “Bella comin’?”

  Sophie froze with a full scoop of coffee grounds in her hand. She quickly dumped it into the coffee filter before it clattered to the counter and made a mess. “Yep.”

  “You teachin’ her to bake?”

  “Yep.”

  Without looking at her, he nodded his approval, then went back to twisting wires.

  She grabbed a fresh apron, threw it over her head and tied it around her waist. Running her fingers over the embroidered stitching across her chest, Sophie’s Sweet Treats, she felt some satisfaction that this place was all hers. And the bank’s, of course.

  And apparently, her shop would be a little safer after today. Though she couldn’t figure out from what.

  The bells above the door jingled and she glanced up to see Axel pushing through the door, his eyes landing on Diesel. He frowned, then his eyes cut to her, which made Sophie frown. Diesel also frowned at Axel’s appearance.

  Appeared no one was happy at the moment.

  Shit.

  She was sure Diesel would report Axel’s visit back to Zak.

  “Guess you don’t trust the PD to protect you?” Not a hello, or how ya doing, nothing. Right away Axel was on the defensive, which made Sophie’s frown deepen.

  His defensiveness probably had to do with the mountain of a man he couldn’t miss.

  “I do.”

  “Then why is Diesel putting a security system in your shop?”

  And, of course, they knew each other.

  “I don’t know, he won’t answer me.”

  Axel cocked a brow. “You didn’t hire him?”

  Now she really saw the resemblance to his brother. “No.”

  “Diesel won’t answer you because Diesel don’t answer to a woman,” Diesel grumbled.

  “Well, there you go,” Sophie said, throwing up her hands and giving Axel a large, mocking smile.

  “Diesel,” Axel warned in a low voice.

  “Fuck off, Axel,” Diesel shot back his own warning in a much louder voice.

  How about that? They knew each other by their first names. Even better.

  Axel’s eyes went hard. Diesel’s went harder.

  Sophie stepped between them, breaking their stand-off. “Got new flood lights out back, too. Didn’t ask for them, but got them anyway.”

  They had been installed yesterday, though no one had broken in to do it. Some guy named Squirrel, who wore a DAMC vest claiming he was a “prospect,” had installed them. At least he actually had been somewhat polite.

  “Really,” Axel murmured.

  “Yes, with motion sensors. Don’t know who’s going to pay for them, either.”

  “Not for you to worry about,” Diesel muttered, his back now to them as he finished wiring the security panel.

  “Well, again... there you go. I just have to keep my mouth shut, I guess.”

  Diesel screwed the panel closed then turned, hands on his hips, shoulders tense under his worn, just as grimy as Zak’s, leather vest. “What’re you doin’ here, Axel? This is DAMC territory.”

  Axel, who in contrast wore a neatly pressed police uniform with a whole lot of weapons hanging around his hips, snorted. “No, it’s not.”

  Diesel raised his brows and waved an arm around the bakery, then toward Sophie. “This is DAMC territory.”

  Axel looked pointedly at Sophie and frowned. “Say it ain’t so.”

  “It ain’t so,” Sophie echoed. She was certainly not DAMC territory as much as Zak thought otherwise.

  “Bullshit,” Diesel grumbled.

  Axel turned his back to the larger man to confront her. “You hooking up with him?”

  Sophie felt the blood drain from her face. “No!”

  “I ain’t so bad, lady. Jeez,” Diesel muttered.

  She sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “No, he’s bad, Sophie. Stay away from him,” Axel said.

  “Listen, cop, and I’m bein’ nice here. You chose your path, so go walk it. The club’s got everything covered here.”

  “You want me to go?” Axel asked her.

  “I, uh... Ah, fuck,” she ended in a pained whisper, slapping a hand to her forehead as the bells jangled again.

  It couldn’t be Bella coming through the door. Nope. Of course it had to be Zak, his eyes hard, his jaw hard, as his gaze landed on Axel. Well, this morning was starting out perfectly!

  First thing out of his mouth was, “What you doin’ here? This is club territory.”

  “I already heard that song and dance, brother.”

  “You’re not my brother.” Zak shot a thumb toward Diesel. “He’s my brother.”

  Axel’s lips thinned to an angry slash. “Since when did Sophie’s bakery become DAMC?”

  “Since the moment I stepped outta that concrete box you threw me into.”

  “I didn’t throw you in there.”

  “Same shit.”

  Axel shook his head. “No, Zak. That’s what happens when you step in shit. It clings. It’s hard to scrape off. The smell lingers. And don’t be dragging Sophie into your shit. She doesn’t deserve it. She’s a decent woman trying to make a decent living. Don’t drag her down.”

  Zak’s eyes narrowed on his brother. “Yeah, guess we ain’t decent enough for decent women.”

  Axel shrugged. “I see the women you have hanging around church, Z. Don’t think I don’t. Sophie isn’t that. She isn’t a house mouse, she isn’t a sweet butt, she isn’t ol’ lady material. You know it. I know it. Leave her alone.”

  House mouse? Sweet butt? She had no idea what those were. But now was not the time to ask.

  Zak’s head jerked back and his gaze bounced from his brother to Sophie and back to his brother. He took a step forward and Axel tensed. “What’s it to you?”

  “Nothing. She landed in town trying to start a business, plant some roots. Don’t poison it.”

  Zak shook his head, his eyes hot with anger. “No, Axel,” he said with deliberate slowness. “What’s she to you?”

  “Coffee anyone?” she asked, her voice loud, but not loud enough, apparently, to catch their attention. “Coffee, Diesel? Zak? Axel?”

  Zak’s eyes landed on her. “Babe.”

  “Babe?” Axel echoed, his brows now pinned to his hairline. His gaze shot to Sophie. “How’d you get tangled up in this shit?”

  “I made a cake,” she whispered.

  Shit.

  “You made a cake,” he repeated slowly.

  “Yeah, Ax, she made my homecomin’ cake. You know, I�
��d just got outta the joint and my family here,” he jabbed a finger at Diesel, “was kind enough to pick me the fuck up.”

  Axel at least had the decency to look somewhat embarrassed, but his expression turned to stone quickly once again. “Didn’t know you were getting out.”

  “Right,” Zak scoffed.

  But Sophie didn’t miss the pain that crossed Zak’s face. It was there and gone in a flash.

  “So, I’ll ask again, brother. What is she to you?”

  Axel smiled and Sophie’s stomach flipped when he said, “I like to eat her cupcakes.”

  Ah, shit.

  Zak stiffened, then scrubbed both hands over his face and his chest heaved before dropping his hands. His eyes landed on Sophie who froze in place at their intensity. “That right?”

  Her mouth dropped open. Then she whispered, “Red velvet.”

  Maybe that wasn’t the best answer because Zak acted like she had just said something else entirely. Like red velvet was code for her—

  In a flash, Zak was nose to nose with Axel, his hands fisted, his chest puffed out. Before Sophie could react, Diesel suddenly became the reasonable one.

  Surprise!

  “Don’t!” Diesel’s sharp bark made her jump. “Don’t, brother, you know punchin’ a pig is an automatic agg assault.” He stepped closer to the real brothers, who had eyes locked on each other.

  “If I punch him, it’ll be because he’s blood, not because he’s a cop.”

  Damn, they were siblings, they should be hugging since they hadn’t seen each other in so long. But no, here they stood in her bakery getting in a pissing match.

  Over nothing. Fucking red velvet cupcakes.

  “Don’t matter, brother. You’re DAMC, he’s a pig. They’ll take you down anyway they can get you.”

  “I’m not going to be taking Zak down. If he wants to try to swing at me, more power to him.” Axel turned his face, just slightly toward Diesel, so he could have eyes on both. “And stop calling me a damn pig. We’ve known each other since we were in diapers.”

  “Doesn’t mean you ain’t a pig. You went to the dark side.”