Down & Dirty_Jag

by Jeanne St. James

  “You’re going to owe me one of these,” she murmured knowing how good it felt when someone else washed your hair.

  “You got it. Gonna both be naked though.”

  That was fine with her.

  “Dunk your head again.”

  He didn’t hesitate to listen this time. When he came back up he wiped the water off his face and out of his eyes.

  Goddamn, he took her breath away again. And again. Just watching him slick and sitting in her tub, made her wet and her nipples hard. She suddenly wished she had a bigger tub.

  But she didn’t, so she grabbed the loofah and squeezed out a good portion of her scented body wash onto it. She dampened it and squished it until it got sudsy.

  “For fuck’s sake, ’spect me to sit still while you wash me?”

  “Yep,” she said then bit her bottom lip. Leaning in farther, she started wiping the loofah over his broad shoulders and down the expanse of his back that sat out of the water, then she brushed the rough loofah over his nipples.

  His heated gaze followed her, but she tried to ignore it and concentrate on her task instead. But drawing the soapy loofah over his broad chest made more than her hand wet.

  Leaning forward, he murmured into her ear, “Gonna smell like you, baby.”

  That he was.

  She dipped the loofah under the water as she worked down his tight stomach and encountered what she suspected she’d find under the soapy, opaque water.

  He was as ready for her as she was for him.

  He was naked and wet. She was clothed and wet. She let the loofah go, and it floated to the surface of the water as she wrapped her fingers around his slick, hard length.

  She began to stroke him slowly, creating ripples at the water’s surface and when she heard a strangled noise, she looked up. His eyes were hooded, his mouth parted.

  “Wearin’ too many clothes, baby.”

  True. And wet, too. Her tight camisole had water spots all over it and the crotch of her boxer shorts was soaked. Though, not by bath water.

  “Want me to stop, honey?”

  He blew out a breath. “I tell you to stop?”

  She chuckled and moved her hand faster, the water beginning to splash. “Think it’s clean yet?”

  “Nope.”

  “’Kay.”

  His head tilted back against the shower wall and he closed his eyes, his hips rising and falling with each stroke of her hand.

  “Fuckin’ baby, gonna blow my load in this water if you don’t stop.”

  She ignored him and continued, watching as his jaw tightened, his brows lowered and his body tensed.

  “Baby,” he moaned. Then his eyes popped open, he pushed to his feet, the water sloshing over the side of the tub and onto her. And suddenly, he was out and pinning her to the slippery, drenched bathroom floor.

  He tugged her damp boxer shorts off her legs, flinging them to the side. Then he pushed up her cami, and she gasped as his mouth latched onto one of her aching nipples. He shoved a knee between her thighs, spreading her legs wide enough to take the breadth of his body.

  She realized in that moment she never got him to reveal what happened earlier with the Warriors. Her mistake. His hard, wet body had been her downfall.

  She dug her fingers into his dripping hair and pulled him down into a deep, thorough kiss, taking the lead, pushing her tongue into his mouth, showing him how much she wanted him right there on the bathroom floor.

  His erection pressed against her inner thigh and she tilted her hips and groaned into his mouth, encouraging him to shift forward, to take her, to make her his.

  He grabbed her wrists, yanking her hands from his hair and pinned them above her head with one hand. The other gripped her cheek as he pushed back against her tongue, taking the control, taking her mouth, until finally, they both had to pull away to catch their breath.

  His hand slipped down over her breast, squeezing and kneading for a moment, before continuing down and finding her swollen, needy clit, so ready for his fingers, for his tongue.

  But she didn’t need much prep, she was ready for him now. His slick body was all she needed for foreplay. She ached for him.

  “Fuck me, Mick.”

  He nipped the tender skin at the base of her throat, then stroked it with his tongue, before moving back down, flicking at one of her nipples with the tip, circling her areola.

  With a gasp, her body rocked as he shifted to a seated position, he grabbed her hips and brought her down hard on his lap, impaling her. Then they both stilled, the only sound in the bathroom was dripping water and their ragged breathing.

  He was so deep inside her that when he murmured, “Where I belong,” she agreed one hundred percent.

  He buried his face into her neck, grabbed her ass and began to guide her up and down his shaft.

  “Where I belong,” he mumbled again against her damp skin.

  She wrapped her arms around him, holding him as close as she could get him, as she used her knees for leverage to take over, to control the rhythm, the age-old movement of bringing two people together and making them one.

  “Mick...” she whispered into the hair at the top of his head. “Could’ve lost you tonight.”

  He pulled his face away from her neck enough to say, “Quiet, baby.”

  “No, it’s true.”

  “Quiet,” he said more firmly.

  “Mick...”

  “No, Ivy, enough.” He shifted them both quickly until she was again on her back and he was above her as he took over the control, slamming his cock into her as hard and fast as he could.

  Showing her just how alive he was. How alive they both were at that moment.

  The faster he moved, the slicker she became, meeting him thrust for thrust. Then without warning, she exploded around him, clenching down hard, arching her back, crying out his name.

  His motion stuttered, and he barked out a curse, but he slowed his pace as the ripples subsided and she floated back to Earth, returned to the bathroom, to the man who knew just how to bring her back up to that peak once again.

  “Gonna come soon, baby. Gonna come again?”

  She struggled to answer, but he heard her and smiled down into her face.

  “Nothin’ like feelin’ that hot, wet cunt squeezing my dick. An’ that little patch of red hair, that fire above your pussy makes my balls want to explode.”

  She was never going to hear one romantic thought come out of that man’s mouth. But it wasn’t the words he uttered that squeezed her heart, it was the emotion in his eyes, the way he looked at her. Like she was everything to him. Like he believed with all his heart and soul that she was meant for him. That they truly belonged to each other.

  Always and forever.

  Everything she fought so hard to avoid, all that effort she spent resisting for years. It was all for nothing.

  It should bother her.

  But it didn’t.

  She should feel defeated.

  But she didn’t.

  Jag felt right and she no longer wanted to resist or fight him. She truly opened herself up to the possibility of spending the rest of her life with this man. Taking the shit that came along with the good. Dealing with club business in another capacity. As his ol’ lady.

  As the mother of his children.

  Even as his wife.

  “Baby...”

  Not realizing her eyes were closed, she opened them and met his dark, worried gaze. “Yeah?” came out on a sigh.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  He smiled and her heart clenched in response. “Good. Gonna bust a nut soon. Gonna come?”

  “Yeah.” She wrapped her legs around his hips, angling them just right so he hit that perfect spot.

  Within seconds, the waves of another orgasm rolled over her, dragging him under with her. He captured her lips as he came, his cock pulsating as he held himself still and deep inside her.

  He broke the kiss, pressed his forehead to hers. “
Love ya, baby.”

  Fuck. He just slayed her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Fuck. She got what she wanted and didn’t even have to say a word. She used her pussy as a weapon of mass destruction.

  After their second round of fucking in her dry, much softer bed, he spilled almost everything that happened earlier in South Side.

  If word got out that he told his woman that shit, he would never hear the end of it. But he blamed it on a moment of weakness, due to drained balls and a happy dick that made him do it.

  That was his excuse, and he was sticking to it if need be.

  Right now though, they should be sleeping, but neither of them could. He was waiting to hear what went down after he left and to make sure that everyone got out in one piece.

  Of course, Ivy was worried not only for her brother, but for her cousins and Zak, though not so much for Pierce.

  Finally, his phone chirped, and he grabbed it off the nightstand, the screen illuminating the dark room and Ivy’s worried face.

  He read the texts from Zak and cursed.

  Ivy slapped his arm. “What does it say?”

  He studied her for a moment in the glow of his cell phone, then took a deep breath before saying, “Everyone’s good.” He shook his head. She needed to know the truth, and she’d find out in the morning, anyway. “No, everyone isn’t good.”

  He heard her suck in a breath.

  “Mean that everyone’s in one piece, baby.”

  “So, what’s wrong?”

  “D and Hawk got busted. 5-0 snagged them. Sittin’ in jail.”

  “Aaah shit.”

  “Yeah. Zak gotta call in to Pannebaker.” According to Z’s texts, he had to leave a message since the attorney the club had on retainer didn’t normally answer his phone at three o’clock in the morning.

  “Do we need to go bail them out?”

  He eyeballed her. “You got that kind of scratch?”

  She frowned. “No.”

  “Didn’t think so. Gotta go in front of the judge in the morning, then Pierce and Zak will handle it.”

  “Pierce,” Ivy muttered.

  He felt the same way. “Still the prez, baby.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Might be for a while yet, until shit gets sorted.” Eventually, everything would get straightened out. Hopefully, sooner than later.

  “Well, thankfully, no one’s dead or in the hospital, right?”

  “Yeah, baby, could’ve died tonight. Any one of us.”

  “Wasn’t smart.”

  “Had to make a statement. No one’s safe with their hit an’ runs on us.”

  “Do you think this so-called ‘statement’ is going to do any good?”

  “Dunno.” He tossed his phone back onto the nightstand and gathered her into his arms. He shoved his nose into her hair and inhaled her scent. Though, now he knew where she got that scent, her shampoo and her body wash. And he smelled the same after that bath. “All I know is that my woman’s in my arms tonight an’ got to bust a nut in her.”

  “Jesus, so romantic,” she whispered, but she snuggled in tighter and a feeling of deep contentment rushed through him. “Have to ask you something, Jag.”

  He grunted because knowing her, it’d be one that he wouldn’t want to answer.

  “One of the things I have to insist on is you not hiding anything from me. You want me to be your ol’ lady and from what you said, the mother of your children, so you can’t hide shit from me. You can’t do that and have this work. I know it, you know it. Club business or not.”

  He rolled to his back, and she wrapped around him, pressing her cheek to his chest. He drew his fingers through her loose hair, then traced the delicate outer shell of her ear. “Didn’t hear a question, baby.”

  “Maybe not.”

  He sighed, her head rising and falling with his chest. Her fingers traced along his pecs and collar bone, making it hard for him to think. “Can’t share everything. Know that.”

  “Yeah, but you can share a lot more that you do... If you know what I mean.”

  He tipped his eyes down toward her. “Whadya mean?”

  Her warm breath blew across his chest before she admitted, “I found your drawings.”

  She what?

  He tensed as what she said sank in. He pulled himself up on his elbows and stared down at her shadowy figure in the dark. “My drawings,” he finally repeated.

  “Yeah.”

  “Not just the one.” The one he had stupidly left on the bar the morning his bike got trashed. The one he left behind in his drunken stupor as he made his way to his bed to pass out and forget about both his bike and Ivy.

  “No.”

  “The ones in my room?” He knew it, he just needed to hear it.

  “Yeah.”

  “You fuckin’ broke into my room an’ went through my shit?”

  “Yeah.”

  Damn. “Fuckin’ Ivy.”

  She reached up and cupped his cheek. He wrapped his fingers around her hand but didn’t pull it away. “Jag... Mick. I needed to know. I saw the talent in that partial drawing of your new custom. I knew that couldn’t be the first time you drew like that. Not sure why you’re hiding it.”

  “So I don’t take shit from anyone. That’s why. Easy to understand, Ivy.” And it should be since she was raised DAMC and knew what a man should and shouldn’t be. “Do me a solid an’ just forget whatcha saw.”

  She lifted her head finally and rose up on her elbow, too. She pulled her hand from under his and laid it on his chest. “I’m not going to forget what I saw.”

  “What did you see?”

  “All of it.” She reached over him and grabbed her cell phone, hitting the power button to activate it and then pressing the photo gallery app.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Her finger swiped across the screen until she found what she was looking for. She turned the screen toward him. “All of it,” she repeated.

  His stomach dropped as his eyes fell on the phone. One of the many drawings he did of Ivy smacked him right in the face. The one she showed him was one of the firsts ones he ever did. The one of her wearing his cut. “Fuck me,” he muttered.

  “Honey, you shouldn’t hide these. You shouldn’t hide any of them.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment. There was no way she was going to keep this under wraps. “No one’s business.”

  She swiped at her phone once more, then shoved it in his face again. His stomach churned. “Need to tell you something...” She swiped and turned it toward him. “Seeing these...” Swipe. Turn. “Mick... seeing these...” Swipe. Turn. “All the drawings of me...” Swipe. “Years’ worth...” Swipe. “Made me realize something...”

  Problem was, he didn’t need to see anything she was showing him. He knew what they all looked like. He remembered in detail doing each drawing. And why he did them.

  “What?”

  “You mentioned in the bathroom that you love me. But you didn’t say for just how long.”

  His nostrils flared and his lips flattened as he dropped his head back and stared up at the ceiling.

  “You going to hide that, too?” she asked softly.

  He rolled over and onto her, covering her body with this weight. Digging his hands into her hair, he pressed his forehead to hers, he grumbled, “Not gonna hide it, baby. Was just waitin’ for you to figure it out.”

  “Figure out that you love me?”

  “No. Figure out how much you love me.”

  “Mick...” she whispered. Her voice trembled, making his chest tighten.

  “Baby, loved you a long time. Wanted you even longer. Dreamed about you when we were teens. Jerked off all the time to you, too. Hell, still do.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Nice.”

  He shrugged. “Hell, can’t remember a time I didn’t want you. You just needed to figure out what you wanted.”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “You want me?”<
br />
  “Yeah.”

  “You love me?”

  “Yeah, Mick, I do. It hit me hard tonight when I realized you could’ve been killed. Realized that would’ve left a hole in my heart. Honestly, I’ve kept my head buried. When I found the sketches, it started to become a little clearer how much I mean to you, how much you mean to me. You’ve always been around and I took you for granted. I realize that now.”

  “Fought me at every turn. If I’d have shown you the pictures a long time ago, you would’ve been in my bed sooner?”

  She bit back a smile. “I can’t say that. Needed to do my thing first. You know, like college and—”

  “Nerds.”

  “Nerds,” she echoed in agreement.

  He sighed. “Should’ve been your first, baby.” Should’ve been, could’ve been, if she had just let him in a long time ago. He couldn’t do anything about that now. Maybe make up for lost time. Which he would gladly do. Even if it killed him.

  “My first time sucked,” she said.

  He should feel bad for her, he should. But he didn’t. He was kind of happy it sucked for her. Once again he couldn’t help thinking that it should’ve been him. “Coulda made it better.”

  “Doubt it.”

  He grunted. She was probably right. Took him awhile to learn how to pleasure a woman. It would’ve killed him to disappoint her. Instead, someone else did it for him. “Gonna be your last, though.”

  “You think?”

  Ivy’s giggle made him smile. “I know.”

  She grabbed his ear and tugged. “No more Goldies?”

  He snagged her hand away and laced his fingers with hers. “No more man-boys? Wanted to stomp that fucker into the ground with my boot.”

  “Adam was nice... until you Neanderthals scared him away.”

  That they did. “He’s lucky I allowed him to continue to breathe.”

  “Jag,” she scolded him.

  “Baby,” he teased back, taking her mouth.

  He decided they were done talking and needed to do something about it.

  Epilogue

  Ivy paced the clubhouse, the Long Island Iced Tea that Bella made sat ignored on the bar.

  She had heard they were holding an executive meeting today, which made sense because they were still dealing with the aftermath of Hawk and Diesel being arrested the other night.