Shooting Dirty

by Jill Sorenson

  “That’s the problem with Dirty Eleven,” Jester said. “You think you’re white knights. You don’t want to see this hot little whore with her ass tore up. You also don’t want the cops sniffing around you...or sniffing around her.”

  Jester had him there. Ace could warn Janelle about the threat, but he couldn’t ensure her safety or buy her silence. Calling the police might expose her to another interrogation about Shane’s death. Ace wouldn’t ask her to lie for him.

  “Let’s not forget the dirt I already collected on you,” Jester said. “My sources tell me there’s an investigator with a real hard-on for any information about the kidnapping. He’s like a dog with a bone.”

  Jester was talking about Damon Vargas, a cop who specialized in MCs. Ace wouldn’t be surprised if Vargas already had Ace’s name on his list. Vargas was probably waiting for a solid lead or some physical evidence.

  “This deal benefits us both,” Jester added. “Don’t pretend you’re not foaming at the mouth to take Bill out.”

  Ace stood and picked up the bottle, shoving it in his pocket. “These are my terms: stay away from Janelle, and stay the fuck out of Indio. We won’t work together ever again. You keep your shitty club and your P2P dope in Riverside.”

  “That’s up to the new president.”

  Ace conceded this point, but he vowed to make sure no one in Dirty Eleven ever collaborated with this motherfucker. “I hope you burn in hell.”

  “I don’t believe in hell.”

  “You will when you see it.”

  * * *

  Ace didn’t have a scheduled visit with Skye that morning, so he texted Shawnee to ask for some extra time with her.

  It wasn’t an unusual request. He often came to see Skye both days of the weekend. Sometimes he had to switch from Saturday to Sunday because of work. Shawnee was pretty flexible about accommodating him, though she liked to pretend he was inconveniencing her. In reality, she didn’t have much to do.

  Before she became Skye’s legal guardian, Shawnee had been a front desk receptionist at Bill’s old hotel. In the early days, she’d doubled as a maid. Now she took care of Skye between hair and nail appointments. Bill put in long days and ignored her.

  She was bored.

  They met at the fountain. Skye had bread for the ducks again. Ace took her little hand, warmth suffusing his chest.

  Everything he did, he did for her.

  Shawnee stared at her phone and tried to look busy.

  “Can you join us?” Ace asked her.

  She glanced up at him with a puzzled frown, but Skye brightened at the suggestion, nodding and tugging on her hand. She was so excited by the prospect of staying together that Ace felt a twinge of guilt. He’d never invited Shawnee to walk with them before. The less they interacted, the better.

  Shawnee tucked her phone away and rose with obvious reluctance. She was wearing a tank top with skinny jeans and skyscraper heels. The shoes weren’t appropriate for a Sunday stroll along the shore. They weren’t appropriate for anything. He considered offering her his arm so she wouldn’t fall over.

  When they reached the pond, Skye pointed to the crowd of ducks at the shore. Ace stopped at a park bench, telling her to wait.

  “Oh my God,” Shawnee said. “Look at the duck shit. She’s going to ruin her shoes.”

  Ace stifled a surge of annoyance. Instead of saying, “fuck the shoes,” he summoned a more supportive comment. “Be careful, bumblebee.”

  Skye nodded her agreement.

  He sat down on the bench next to Shawnee and opened the bag of bread. “Why don’t you show your grandmother one of the signs I taught you?”

  Skye’s eyes lit up even more at this suggestion. Signing was a secret between them, a special language that Shawnee didn’t approve of. It was clear that Skye wanted to communicate with her grandmother.

  Shawnee gave Ace a sour look, but she smiled at Skye, acquiescing to the little girl’s wishes. Skye smiled back and formed a sign for Shawnee. Ace had taught her “hello” and “grandma,” but she didn’t use either of those. She went straight for the heart, and his chest tightened with emotion.

  “What does that mean?” Shawnee asked him.

  “I love you,” he replied, clearing his throat. “It means I love you.”

  Shawnee’s eyes filled with tears. She blinked several times and swallowed hard. “I love you, too, baby.”

  Skye took the bread and ran to the shore, her braids flying. Ace just watched her for a few moments, relishing her joy. When he turned to Shawnee again, she was doing the same thing. Staring at Skye as if she was the center of the universe.

  This was the most difficult part of the custody situation. Skye was actually happy with Shawnee. She wasn’t being mistreated or neglected. Shawnee might not be Skye’s real mother, but she was ten times the mother Courtney had been.

  “Bill offered me a job at the casino,” he said.

  Shawnee’s expression told him that she already knew the details. She might even be the one pulling the strings. She’d love to see Jester choke on his own blood, and if Ace went away for life, that was a bonus.

  He focused on Skye for another moment, his stomach roiling. He hadn’t decided what to do about Jester and Bill. He could kill them both, but he couldn’t get away with it. “Shank’s name came up at our meeting.”

  Her brows drew together. “Did it?”

  “They buried his cut. Bill said he’s dead to him, dead to the club.”

  She seemed disturbed by this news.

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Ace figured she was protecting Shank, which meant he was alive. “Bill asked me about something that happened between you two a long time ago.”

  A pulse fluttered at the base of her throat. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I just thought you should know.”

  She appeared stunned, as if she couldn’t fathom why Ace would relay this information. Then her expression hardened and she turned toward the pond, cool again. “Don’t concern yourself. I’m the one who told Bill about me and Cole.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “I found him with another woman. I wanted to hurt him.”

  “What about Cole? Did you ever consider what Bill would do to him?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, shrugging. “He came out okay. Men always do.”

  He couldn’t believe she was so blasé about sleeping with her nephew. Even if they weren’t blood-related, it was a sleazy move.

  “Bill doesn’t care anyway.”

  “You’re wrong about that. He’s very protective of his property.”

  She fell silent for a moment. “Have you ever killed a woman?”

  “No.”

  “Would you?”

  “What do you think?”

  She searched his gaze, as if looking for a hint of humanity. Most people didn’t find it in him. He couldn’t find it in himself when he studied his own reflection. But perhaps she could see past his façade, after years of watching him interact with Skye. “I take it you’re not going to accept Bill’s offer.”

  “You should get out,” he said. “For Skye’s sake, if not your own.”

  She bristled at the words. “You’re overstepping.”

  “I can’t be involved with Bill anymore. I’d never forgive myself if someone used Skye as a pawn, like Jester did with Courtney.”

  “Then eliminate the threat,” she said shortly.

  “Another threat will come.”

  “What are you saying, that you’re going to walk away?”

  “I might...disappear for a while.”

  Shawnee didn’
t respond. She certainly wouldn’t miss him.

  He pushed down his resentment, with some difficulty. “I know I can count on you to take care of Skye. You’re good to her, and I’m glad she has you in her life. If I...if I go away, I want her to know how much I love her. I don’t want her to forget me, or Courtney.”

  Shawnee’s eyes softened, just a little. She removed a card from her purse and jotted down an address on the back. “My sister lives in Ridgecrest. I take Skye to visit her once a month. If you’re in the neighborhood, you can drop by and see her.”

  “Thank you,” he said, his throat raw. “It means a lot to me.”

  “Don’t ruin it,” she said in a brusque tone. “The only thing I like about you is your cold-bastard routine.”

  He went quiet.

  She glanced at Skye again. “Will you show me how to make that sign?”

  He formed his hand into the proper shape. After teaching her several signs, he rose from the bench to join Skye. He savored every moment and memorized every detail of the afternoon, his heart aching with love for her.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Janelle made plans to meet Ace at her trailer.

  She wore denim shorts and a long-sleeved tunic over sexy lingerie. Instead of cowboy boots, she donned a pair of kitten heels. She arrived early and paced the living room, her pulse pounding with anticipation.

  His responses to her flirty texts had been curt. She knew he was dealing with some heavy, life-or-death stuff. When she’d asked him about it, he’d shut her up with a hard fuck.

  She might try asking him again. She wanted him to trust her with his darkest secrets, the way she’d trusted him with hers. But she’d take his cock if that was all he’d give, and she’d give back by letting him take. She could feel the tension in him, coiled tight and ready to spring. It was just like the tension inside her. They could release each other.

  He was late. Instead of stopping out front, he drove past her trailer and parked down the street. Then he walked back under the cover of night. She opened the door for him, her heart in her throat. His eyes were strange, colder than unusual. Like chips of ice. But his mouth was hot. He was on her as soon as he crossed the threshold. Pushing her against the wall, he buried his hands in her hair and kissed the hell out of her.

  When he lifted his head, she drew in a ragged breath. “Hello to you, too.”

  “Lock the door.”

  She locked it.

  “I’m not in the mood to talk.”

  “What a shame,” she said, fingering her neckline. “I thought we’d spend a quiet evening telling Bible stories.”

  He made a growling sound and grasped her arm, urging her toward the bedroom. Apparently he wasn’t in the mood for jokes, either. “Take off your clothes before I rip them to shreds.”

  She removed her clothes with slow deliberation. Her bra and panties were almost the same color as her skin, and very sheer. It was really just decoration, a sweet dusting of cinnamon and sugar over her cleft. His gaze darkened with approval. He put his arms around her, drawing her body along the length of his.

  “No cowboy shirt tonight?” she asked.

  “I only have one.”

  She helped him out of the T-shirt, not disappointed by his casual attire. Or his hair-roughened chest, etched in tattoos and taut with muscle. His jeans were the same pair he’d worn last night. Faded Levis with a brown leather belt. She smoothed her palm over his erection. “Is this for me?”

  “Every inch of it.”

  “Where do you want to put it?”

  He studied her mouth for a moment. Then he examined her breasts, which tingled beneath the gossamer fabric, and slid his hands over her mostly bare bottom. Her pussy was already warm and slick, her nipples stiff.

  “Can’t decide?”

  “Get on the bed.”

  She wasn’t ready to let him toy with her. He had a strange energy tonight, as if demons were after him. He was on the edge of something even more dangerous than usual. She didn’t think he’d talk to her about it, but maybe he’d allow her to relieve his stress a little.

  The cuffs were on the surface of the dresser. She picked them up and secured her own wrists together in front of her body. Then she sank to her knees at his feet. She knew what he needed better than he did.

  He unbuttoned his fly and released his cock, agreeable. She moistened her lips eagerly. Taking his shaft in his hand, he brushed the velvety tip against her cheek. She nuzzled him, pressing soft kisses along his length. He had a beautiful cock, long and thick. Holding his gaze, she licked a salty drop from the slit. Then she parted her lips and took him deep. He made a fist in her hair, guiding her head. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes as she swallowed as much as she could handle, choking herself on him.

  Anything to please him.

  He groaned, withdrawing from her mouth with a wet pop. “You think you’re getting off this easy?”

  “I thought you were getting off.”

  “You first, plaything.”

  She rose to her feet, with his help. “What if I want to play with you?”

  His brow furrowed. “How?”

  “Lay down and I’ll show you.”

  He took off his boots and pants, indulging her. Then he stretched out on his back on the bare mattress. His cock jutted up to his belly button. She shivered at the sight of him, big and hard and tattooed. In her bed. All for her.

  Removing her cuffs, she put one on his right wrist, securing it to the slatted headboard. Then she crawled across his naked body and did the other one. He seemed amused by the cuffs, which weren’t strong enough to hold him. If he wanted to, he could yank free. He could probably break the headboard.

  Janelle studied her work, pleased. His demeanor had changed from urgent and forceful to patient and willing.

  “Take off those panties and ride me,” he said.

  Her breath quickened at his command, but she didn’t obey. She put her hand between her legs and rubbed her sex through the fabric. There was a damp circle, spreading fast. Her clit pulsed with need.

  “Are you wet for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let me see.”

  She stripped her panties down her hips and showed him.

  He moistened his lips. “Touch yourself.”

  Her hands rose to her breasts, squeezing them together. Teasing him. The sheer fabric abraded her nipples sweetly. She knew he was asking her to finger her pussy, not fondle her breasts. So she raised one knee and rested her foot on the mattress to give him a better view. Then she pinched her nipples.

  “You have a beautiful pussy.”

  She slid her hands down her stomach and gave him what he wanted, penetrating with one finger. Then two. Thrusting in and out of her slick sex. His nostrils flared at her musky scent and he tugged at the cuffs, biceps flexing.

  “Let me taste you.”

  She transferred her fingers to his mouth, her heart racing. He sucked them as if there was nothing more delicious.

  “Now get on my cock,” he ordered.

  Jesus.

  On impulse, she reached into the drawer for the paddle. His jaw clenched when he saw it, but he didn’t say anything. She slapped it against his hard thigh. He flinched at the contact, his eyes glowing with warning.

  He’d make her pay for this.

  Smiling, she slid the edge of the paddle along his thigh, up and down. His cock was flushed and hard as nails. She hit it lightly. He twitched, his cock bobbing against his belly. Then she patted his balls with the flat paddle, spanking them lovingly.

  “I’m going to fuck you so hard,” he said through clenched teeth.

  She tossed aside the paddle and climbed onto the mattress, kissing his abused flesh. Licking his balls and sucking his cock. She drew him d
eep, moving her mouth up and down. Stroking his slippery shaft with her hand.

  “Cowgirl,” he said.

  She lifted her head. “What?”

  “That’s my safeword.”

  “You can’t use a safeword during a blowjob.”

  “The fuck I can’t.”

  Releasing him, she slid her leg over his lap. “I’ll show you a cowgirl,” she said, straddling him in reverse. Then she rubbed her pussy along his shaft, teasing his cock. Her hips moved in undulating motions. She gave him the hottest, most unsatisfying lap dance ever.

  “You’re killing me,” he said in a hoarse voice.

  She looked over her shoulder at him. “What do you want?”

  “Your pussy on my face, and my cock in your mouth.”

  She’d never actually tried that before. She couldn’t imagine a more vulnerable position for a woman to be in. She’d be completely exposed to him, unable to close her legs. The focus on her pleasure often caused her to drift. But his hands were still cuffed, and that made her feel safer. Maybe simultaneous oral would distract her. She could suck his cock and not worry about what he was doing with her body.

  She crawled backward until her pussy was aligned with his face. He arched up to taste her glistening slit.

  It was...exciting. Daring. Naughty.

  Pulse pounding, she bent her head to him and went to work. To her delight, she could fit more of his cock in her mouth from this angle. She took him deep into the back of her throat, moaning with pleasure.

  This was hot.

  She’d always enjoyed oral sex, and his cock was thrillingly large. She sucked and stroked him with eager motions, performing as if her life depended on it. He ate her cunt the same way, tongue-fucking her into oblivion.

  Damn. He was good.

  Her hips began to move in desperate motions, riding his face. He pumped his cock into her mouth with shallow thrusts. His shaft was wet with her saliva, dripping down his balls. She paused to grip him and got distracted by the swirling motions of his tongue.

  “Oh fuck,” she said, close to orgasm.

  He suckled on her clit, relentless. She bent her head to take him deep again. She heard the cuffs rip and felt his fingers in her pussy. He stretched her wide, his tongue stabbing her clit. She came with a muffled cry, her hips bucking and her mouth full of cock. Her cheeks puffed with air as she shuddered on top of him, moaning. She felt as if she was exploding all over his face, her pussy soaked with moisture.