Down & Dirty_Jag

by Jeanne St. James

  But it was what happened afterward in her apartment that made her nervous.

  With all the shit that went down due to the fight with the Warriors, they hadn’t had a chance to talk about what steps they were taking next after admitting to each other that they loved one another.

  She figured Jag would go full bore ahead on claiming her as his ol’ lady. And to do that he needed to bring it to a vote. But he hadn’t discussed it happening so soon. So she didn’t get the opportunity to discourage him from doing so before she heard about this meeting.

  She headed over as soon as she could once she saw Dex and Ace leaving for the meeting. She couldn’t leave the pawn shop until she got someone there to replace her. Luckily, her mother and Ace’s wife, Janice, rushed over to help once she explained to them what her panic was about.

  However, by the time she got to church it was too late. The meeting room door was shut and the remaining executive members were inside.

  Now, as she paced and her eyes kept landing on the closed door, she debated whether to bust inside and tell Jag that now was not the time to bring it to a vote.

  She wasn’t ready.

  She wasn’t ready at all. And she didn’t give her permission.

  Not that he needed it. He certainly didn’t. If he claimed her and everyone voted yes on it, she was screwed, no matter what she thought.

  Her head swung toward the door again and she stopped, hands on hips.

  Grizz slammed his pint glass full of beer on the bar, making the draft spill over the rim onto his hand. He cursed, shook off his hand, then pointed one crooked, gnarled finger toward the closed meeting room door. “Remember, girly, a woman don’t belong in that room ever.”

  “But—”

  “Nothin’ in that room’s your business,” he grumbled.

  If Jag was in there claiming her, it was her business. She had to stop him.

  She took one step toward the door, then suddenly she was there, hand on the knob, turning it, flinging the door open...

  “Goddamn women!” Grizz shouted at her back.

  All eyes landed on her and she froze. Ace, Jag, Pierce, Dex... And Zak? He wasn’t a board member anymore. Why was he in there?

  Her brother frowned at her. “What the fuck, Ivy?”

  Her gaze landed on Jag and he cocked an eyebrow at her, a small smile pulling at his lips.

  “You do it?” she asked him from the doorway.

  “Do what?” he returned.

  “Ivy get outta here,” Ace yelled. “We’re talkin’ business.”

  “I know! Don’t let him bring it to a vote!”

  Her uncle looked at her funny. “What are you talkin’ about?”

  Her gaze bounced to Jag and back to Ace. “The vote.”

  “On what?” Ace asked, clearly confused.

  Jag pushed to his feet and approached her. “Just what do you think we’re votin’ on?”

  “Me being your ol’ lady,” she whispered.

  He shook his head and laughed.

  Ace swept a hand around the table, looking a bit peeved. “We got two members missin’, we ain’t votin’ on shit.”

  “Oh.” Heat crept into her cheeks.

  “Bitches,” Pierce griped, shaking his head. “Heard the crazy ones are the best in bed. That true, Jag?”

  Jag’s head spun toward Pierce and his shoulders visibly tightened. Ivy placed a hand on his arm, pulling his attention back to her.

  “I thought you were in here claiming me.”

  “Should I be?”

  “No!” she shouted a little too loudly. She cleared her throat. She looked at Zak. “Can you not vote with two missing members?”

  Zak shrugged, but it was Pierce who said, “We can do whatever the fuck we want.”

  “Good.” Her answer had them all twisting their heads back to her.

  “Good?” Ace asked, clearly confused. Again.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Dex grumbled under his breath.

  “Yeah,” she stepped closer to the table. She looked Pierce in the eye. “I need to bring something to a vote.”

  “You can’t bring shit to a vote.”

  “You just said,” she lowered her voice to sound gruff like Pierce, “‘We can do whatever the fuck we want.’”

  “Know what I said, woman! You can’t bring shit to a vote.”

  “Baby, you gotta go,” Jag started, grabbing her arm. She yanked it free and looked at each one of them sitting around the table. “Jag ain’t claiming me.”

  “Ever?” Ace asked, his brows raised in surprise.

  “Ever.”

  “Sucks to be you, Jag,” Dex muttered.

  Ivy shot daggers at her brother. “Are you going to ask me why?”

  “Baby...”

  “Nope,” Pierce barked.

  “I’ll tell you why...”

  “Baby,” Jag said more firmly, grabbing her arm again. She shook her arm, but he didn’t release her this time, he just held on tighter.

  “I’ll tell you why...”

  “Ivy,” he said, the warning thick in his voice.

  Pierce let out a long, loud dramatic sigh. “Tell us why an’ then get the fuck outta here.”

  “Because I’m claiming him.”

  She could have heard a pin drop as everyone stared at her wide-eyed. Even Jag.

  Then Ace barked out a laugh and slammed the table with his palm, making her jump.

  Dex groaned and shoved his face in his hands.

  Zak smirked at Jag, shoved away from the table and came over to pound Jag on the back. “Congrats, brother. Got yourself a ball an’ chain. Welcome to the club.”

  Ivy turned slowly toward Jag, afraid of what she was going to see.

  It wasn’t as bad as she thought. He seemed kind of shell-shocked, but his gaze was heated as he stared at her. And he sort of looked... proud.

  Huh.

  “All in favor?” Ivy asked loudly, her gaze holding his.

  “It wasn’t even brought to a motion yet,” Ace laughed through his words. She was glad he was finding this amusing.

  “So make the damn motion,” she said impatiently.

  “How about I just second the motion?” Ace suggested.

  “Whatever,” she muttered. “All in favor?” she asked again.

  “Ayes,” rose up, the loudest coming from beside her.

  She bit her bottom lip as Pierce slammed the gavel on the table and yelled, “Motion carries. Jag’s officially now pussy-whipped. Good luck there, brother.”

  Jag yanked her to him and dropped his lips to hers. But instead of kissing her, he murmured, “Now, get the fuck outta here so we can finish talkin’ ‘bout your cousins’ legal troubles.”

  Oh.

  He gave her a quick kiss, then pushed her out the door and slapped her ass. “Deal with you later,” he said gruffly.

  Before she could turn around to address him, the door slammed in her face. She wandered back to the bar where Grizz just shook his head and Bella gave her a knowing smile.

  Her cell phone dinged, and she glanced at it.

  Love ya, baby.

  She texted back. Love you, too... ol’ man.

  Jag, wearing nothing but his boxers, wandered past Ivy sitting at her kitchen table. He threw open the refrigerator door, contemplated the interior, scratched his balls, then snagged a beer, twisting off the cap and tossing it in the sink.

  He tipped the bottle to his lips and let the cold brew slither down his throat as he waited for her to bitch at him for the hundredth time about where the garbage can was located. But she remained quiet. He cocked a brow and approached the table, the bottle hanging between two fingers.

  Apparently, she hadn’t noticed because she was too engrossed in whatever she was looking at on her laptop.

  “Watchin’ midget porn?”

  “No,” she said distractedly, not even bothering to look up. “Working.”

  “Watcha workin’ on? It’s late.”

  “Something for you.” />
  “Me?”

  “Yeah. Something that will make you enough to build the custom bike of your dreams as well as put a down payment on a house.” She finally looked up over her shoulder at him, and with a smile added, “So we don’t have to wait for the ‘all’s clear’ text from Ace before we can have sex.”

  “We can have sex. Your uncle just don’t wanna hear you squealin’ like a pig.”

  “He say that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Damn,” she whispered, color flooding her cheeks.

  “So, if you can stay quiet...” his voice trailed off. “Never mind. Okay, how you gonna make me a lot of scratch so we can get our own place?”

  She turned her laptop so he could see it clearly. He leaned over her shoulder to get a better look. He blinked.

  “What’s that?”

  “A website.”

  “For what?

  “For you.”

  He read the fancy header at the top of the page: M. Jagger Jamison.

  “M. Jagger?”

  “I knew you’d be pissed if I used your first name.”

  He set the beer down on the table and swiped his finger over the touch pad on her laptop, scrolling up the page. The page was full of photos of his sketches. And there were outrageous prices under each one.

  “This live?”

  “No, I wanted to show you first and get your approval.”

  “Think you can get that for my drawings?”

  “Yes. I emailed an art dealer, and he was impressed. He actually was the one who suggested some of the prices. He said you’d make more if they were framed professionally.”

  “When you doin’ that?”

  Jag watched her jaw drop and her eyes widen. She wasn’t expecting that response from him. But she was right. No use hiding them away in a ceiling. He might as well sell them and build the dream bike he wanted as well as buy her a house.

  Get her a ring.

  Start a college fund for their kids. Since they’d most likely be super smart like her.

  “You’re okay with this?”

  He lifted a shoulder and picked up his beer. “Yeah.”

  “You won’t care what any of the brothers think?”

  “Didn’t say that.”

  “You can handle it.”

  He thought about what she said for a moment as he took a pull from the beer bottle. Finally, he said, “Yeah, I can handle it.”

  He stepped behind her chair, wrapped a hand around her neck and pulled her head back. He dropped a kiss onto her forehead.

  “Gonna buy that house an’ fill it with green-eyed, redheaded lil’ girls like their momma.”

  She reached up to cup his cheek. “Nope. Badass little boys with grey-blue eyes like their daddy.”

  He stared down in her eyes, and the warmth that ran through him reached all the way to his toes. “Do me a favor, baby.”

  She smiled up at him, a dreamy look on her face. “What’s that?”

  “Don’t sell any of the ones I did of you.”

  “You can draw more.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t. Don’t want no one but me to have you. In two-D or three-D.”

  “Okay,” she said softly, her eyes suddenly shiny.

  “Ready to go start makin’ those kids, baby?”

  “I’m on the pill, honey.”

  “I know, but could practice in the meantime.”

  She slapped the top down on her laptop and pushed away from the table. “That we can.”

  “Can I fuck you while you’re naked wearin’ my cut?”

  “Like the drawing? No.”

  “Baby.”

  “Jag.”

  He smiled to himself as he dragged her down the hall. It might not be tonight, but one of these nights he’d get her to agree.

  He’d dreamed about her wearing his cut for what seemed like forever. And if she only wore it while they were in the bedroom, that would be fine with him. But he was going to make sure she was screaming his name when she did.

  Keep an eye out on my website www.jeannestjames.com for the third book in the Dirty Angels MC series: Down & Dirty: Hawk coming soon to a book retailer near you!

  Bear’s Family Tree

  Doc’s Family Tree

  If You Enjoyed This Book

  Thank you for reading Down & Dirty: Jag. If you enjoyed Jag and Ivy’s story, please consider leaving a review at your favorite retailer and/or Goodreads to let other readers know. Reviews are always appreciated and just a few words can help an independent author like me tremendously!

  About the Author

  JEANNE ST. JAMES is a USA Today bestselling erotic romance author who loves an alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing. Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages.

  Want to read a sample of her work? Download a sampler book here: BookHip.com/MTQQKK

  To keep up with her busy release schedule check her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup

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  Also by Jeanne St. James

  Made Maleen: A Modern Twist on a Fairy Tale

  Damaged

  Brothers in Blue Series:

  (Can be read as standalones)

  Brothers in Blue: Max

  Brothers in Blue: Marc

  Brothers in Blue: Matt

  Teddy: A Brothers in Blue Novella

  The Dare Ménage Series:

  (Can be read as standalones)

  Double Dare

  Daring Proposal

  Dare to Be Three

  A Daring Desire

  Dare to Surrender (Coming soon)

  The Obsessed Novellas:

  (All the novellas in this series are standalones)

  Forever Him

  Only Him

  Needing Him

  Loving Her

  Temping Him

  The Rip Cord Trilogy:

  Rip Cord: The Reunion

  Rip Cord: The Weekend

  Rip Cord: The Ever After

  Down & Dirty: Dirty Angels MC Series:

  (Can be read as standalones)

  Down & Dirty: Zak

  Down & Dirty: Jag

  Down & Dirty: Hawk

  Down & Dirty: Diesel (Coming soon)

  Down & Dirty: Axel (Coming soon)

  You can find information on all of Jeanne’s books here:

  http://www.jeannestjames.com/

  Down & Dirty: Hawk Sneak Peek

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

  Down & Dirty: Hawk (unedited) Sneak Peek

  Chapter One

  As the annoying high-pitched buzz sounded, the magnetic door lock released, and the reinforced steel door clanged open, Hawk glanced up and saw a guard pushing through the door.

  About fucking time. He’d been sitting here long enough, waiting in this sparse room that only housed a bolted-down, dented and scratched metal table and two chairs that sat unevenly on the concrete floor.

  He grunted. Not that he had anywhere to go. He was stuck here
until the club’s attorney showed up and did his legal hocus-pocus to get him the fuck out of county jail.

  All he knew was that he did not look good in an orange poly-cotton blend. He preferred denim and leather. He’d rather not be wearing a one-size-does-not-fit-all jumpsuit. It wouldn’t take much flexing for him to split the seams with the one he currently wore.

  Like the Hulk.

  He grinned

  But that grin was quickly lost as the person following the guard inside did not look anything like his lawyer.

  Not unless the Dirty Angel’s MC attorney had a sex change operation, lost at least fifty pounds, including a gut, and slapped in colored contacts. And found some sense of style.

  Hawk closed his dropped jaw before he started to drool. Because, for fuck’s sake, slobbering all over himself wouldn’t be very badass biker. Not. At. All.

  He drew himself up straighter in the uncomfortable metal chair and puffed out his chest until the top snap of the jumpsuit popped open.

  Then he let his gaze slowly run down that fine piece of ass from top to toe.

  Oh, fuck me, he thought as he took in the woman’s long, wavy dark brown hair, her plump suck-my-cock lips, her bouncing tits that wanted to bust out of the blood-red blouse that fit her like an if-you-can’t-acquit glove, her narrow waist, her not-so-narrow hips encased in a black skirt that only came down mid-thigh—thighs that would fit perfectly around his ears—those long-ass, lickable calves, slim ankles, and... fuck... higher-than-hell heels.

  She could walk all over him as long as she wore those fucking shoes.

  He heard the clearing of a throat and reluctantly lifted his gaze to flashing, but amused, deep blue eyes.

  He hadn’t even realized the guard was gone and the door had been closed. They were alone.

  With a hard-on that wouldn’t quit, he now couldn’t wait to get back to his cramped cell to rub one off. He didn’t even care if his cellmate watched. Fuck that strung-out weasel dick.