Down & Dirty: Books 1-3: Dirty Angels MC Series Box Set

by St. James, Jeanne

  So, when her grandmother died last year and left her the bulk of her estate, she decided to do something with that money to make her dream come true. It wasn’t a fortune, no. But it was enough of a nest egg to buy a building in a town where the real estate and taxes were reasonable, but also where the population was large enough to sustain the business.

  And that’s how she landed in Shadow Valley, a half hour south west of Pittsburgh. She hadn’t been looking in the area since she was from Philadelphia, but when her real estate agent called to say she found the perfect business—a turnkey bakery that included all the equipment and even had an apartment above it for her to live in—she couldn’t resist.

  Not in her right mind.

  The only problem was she had no family or friends nearby.

  As she reached to twist the deadbolt, the door flew open making the bells above it clank in protest. With a yelp, she fell back, losing her balance and landing with a thud on her ass. Her heart froze in her chest before thumping wildly all the way into her throat.

  What the hell?

  Trying to catch her breath, she looked up to see a man standing over her, legs spread wide, hand reaching out.

  “Sorry,” he grumbled. “Was tryin’ to catch you before you locked me out. Didn’t mean to knock you down like that.”

  Sophie’s gaze bounced from the outstretched hand to that damn biker’s eyes. Holy hell.

  She swallowed, gathered her wits, and pushed herself to her feet, ignoring his offer of help.

  “You okay?” His deep, gravelly voice almost pulled a shudder from her. Almost.

  Sophie brushed off her ass and frowned. “You couldn’t have just knocked?”

  “I knock, doubt you’d let me in.”

  He had that right. But she scowled anyway.

  He dropped his hand then turned on his biker booted heel to lock the deadbolt.

  Oh. No.

  Last time he locked a door they ended up naked, and she’d had three unplanned orgasms.

  She tilted her head and studied him as he swung back to face her. Though, those orgasms hadn’t been such a bad thing. He was just the wrong person to have them with.

  He smiled as if he’d read her mind.

  She ran a hand over her throat, and breathed deeply, trying to keep her pulse from leaping out of her neck.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Your name is Sophie.”

  Sophie opened her mouth then snapped it shut. He wasn’t asking. He was telling her what her own name was.

  Genius.

  “Yes, it’s on the two-foot-high sign out front. A little obvious.”

  He lifted one shoulder. “This place used to be Martin’s Bakery.”

  She shook her head slightly, confused. “Yeah, so?”

  “My mom used to bring me here when I was a tyke. Loved their whoopie pies.”

  “Chocolate ones with the vanilla icing?”

  A corner of his mouth slid up into a half smile. “Yeah. Had to be. Only the original.”

  Damn, the man was not only hot, he was endearing when remembering his youth. He was probably a lot more innocent back then than he was now. She pictured him wearing cute tan shorts, a little blue polo shirt, and holding onto his mother’s hand as she brought him in for his favorite treat.

  Now…

  Oh yeah. That innocent little boy grew up and now wore black jeans, heavy black leather boots, a worn black leather vest that had some filthy patches sewn on, over a white long-sleeved thermal shirt. And a big, thick black leather belt held closed by a silver buckle with an emblem etched into it circled his waist.

  She wondered if he’d mind if she bent over to peek at it a little closer. She was curious what the emblem was.

  She winced at her thoughts.

  “You make ‘em?”

  What?

  Oh. Yeah… “No.”

  “Can you?”

  “Probably. You placing an order?”

  “Maybe.”

  Sophie pursed her lips and ran her gaze over his short beard and shaggy dark brown hair. She squeezed her thighs together in an attempt to get rid of the memory of that beard scraping along her inner thighs and against her pussy.

  Fuck, woman, get your shit together, this man’s a felon. A felon! He probably killed someone.

  Frowning, Sophie swallowed hard as his deep blue eyes pinned her. The man had some thick eyelashes. He sure did. Damn.

  What a shame he was a felon and a biker. Not to mention, she was new in town and trying to run a respectable business. Last thing she wanted was to chase away clientele by having bikers parking out front and coming into her shop. Or climbing into her bed.

  He could park out back.

  What? No!

  No. No. No.

  And when he smiled again she just about melted onto the floor. She needed to get her shit together. Immediately.

  “Zak, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She cocked an eyebrow at his ma’am before continuing. “You here for a reason?”

  “Sure am.”

  She waited.

  Nothing.

  “Aaaaaaaand that reason is…”

  “To settle our bill.”

  She arched an eyebrow in his direction. “You’re paying for your own cake?”

  He didn’t answer, just stepped toward her. She stepped back.

  “Club’s payin’ for it.”

  “Ah. Okay. I did say I’d drop it in the mail.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But if you want to settle it now, we can do that.”

  He lifted his chin. It was a sort of nod. Not quite. But Sophie had to assume he was agreeing with her. He certainly was a man of few words.

  Her brows knitted, she took a breath, then turned to head to the back of the shop where the opening was in the counter to go behind the glass display case. She lifted the section of the counter that had hinges, stepped through and when she turned to drop it behind her, he was right there.

  Right. There.

  Damn. How was the man so quiet in those heavy boots?

  “Jesus,” she whispered.

  “Nah. Zak.”

  She blinked, then pressed her lips flat, trying not to laugh. His eyes crinkled at the corners and he pushed past her to go behind the counter and display case. Where only employees were allowed, that was if she had some.

  “Uh…” She guessed it didn’t matter since the shop was closed.

  “How long you been here?” he asked, not bothering to look at her.

  “Six months.”

  “You’re not from here, otherwise I’d know you. Where you from?” He explored the area behind the display case, running a finger over the counter, touching stuff, peeking in bowls. Simply being nosey.

  She didn’t have to answer his questions. No, she did not.

  “Not here,” she finally answered.

  He stilled, then glanced over his shoulder at her. “What kind of answer’s that?”

  “One you’re getting.”

  “One I won’t accept.”

  “It’s as good as you’re going to get.”

  He turned, crossing his thick, thermal covered arms over his chest. That’s when she noticed the spot where a patch was missing. The leather was cleaner, darker, in that rectangular area and a few white threads had been left behind.

  “What happened?” she asked, jerking her chin in the area of his missing patch.

  “Prison.”

  Sophie’s nostrils flared as she sucked in a breath. Yes, that’s right. They were celebrating his “homecoming” last night. “So, what’d you do?”

  “Nothin’.”

  Right. “I’m sure the prison is full of people who were just doing nothin’.”

  He didn’t answer but leaned back against the display case, his arms still crossed. “Worried?”

  “About what?”

  “Me. Hurtin’ you.”

  She hesitated and studied his eyes, which watched her carefully.
They appeared clear, alert. The hairs on the back of her neck didn’t rise. Her gut instinct was no, he wouldn’t hurt her. “Should I be?”

  “Nope.”

  Sophie nodded. “Okay.”

  “Just that simple.”

  “What?”

  “I say I’m not gonna hurt you an’ you say okay. You accept that as truth.”

  “Why not?”

  “’Cause you don’t know me.”

  “Hold on—”

  “No, babe, accepted my answer too easily. Hardly fought me last night…”

  “No,” she corrected, shaking her head vehemently. “I fought you.”

  “Hardly,” he repeated with a frown. “An’ now you just accept my word that I won’t hurt you. Woman, need to be more careful.”

  “Of men like you?”

  His voice lowered an octave. “Yeah, men like me.”

  When he pushed off the display and straightened, Sophie stepped back, keeping their distance. “Make up your mind. Last night you weren’t happy when I said I wasn’t thrilled about doing a biker. Tonight, you’re not happy I would.” Sophie winced at her own words. Damn it.

  He cocked a brow and smiled. “You wanna do me?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “How’d you mean it?”

  “Let me just find the bill. Once you settle it, you can leave. Please.” She was going to have to get by him to go up to the front. The pending invoices were in a folder on a shelf under the cash register.

  He didn’t move out of the way when she cautiously approached. In fact, he seemed to spread out, block her path. He wanted her to squeeze by him.

  “Excuse me,” she said, avoiding his eyes.

  “Sophie,” he said softly.

  She wouldn’t look up into those blue eyes of his. She would not. Nope. She focused on her destination, the register. “You’re in my way,” she whispered.

  “Yeah,” he answered on a breath.

  A thumb came under her chin and tilted her face up until she couldn’t avoid those beautiful eyes of his.

  “Don’t like your hair like that,” he murmured.

  Her hand automatically went to her head. “My ponytail?” she asked, surprised. When she worked she always had it pulled up in some fashion.

  “Though, could be great for when you’re givin’ me head. Somethin’ for me to hold on to.”

  Sophie’s mouth dropped open.

  “But like it better when it’s fallin’ down ‘round your tits an’ your nipples are peekin’ out.”

  What. The...

  Heat exploded in her belly and landed in her groin. That was nowhere near a romantic statement but, damn, did it turn her on.

  Right now, it wasn’t such a good idea to be standing so close to him. She shoved past him, yanking her chin from his grasp. She quickly grabbed the folder and slammed it on top of the display case, thumbing through it until she found the bill for his got-sprung-from-the-slammer cake. Grabbing a red pen, she scribbled a tip onto the balance and held out the bill to him.

  With a half grin, he plucked it from her fingers and glanced at it. Then glanced at it again, the cocky grin gone.

  She waited for him to complain, to bitch about the exorbitant amount she just tacked on. But he didn’t say a word.

  No, instead he dug out a long leather wallet from his back pocket. A freaking wallet that actually had a chain attached to one of his belt loops. Jeez, was he living in the seventies?

  He opened the wallet and snagged two bills out of it, handing them to her. She stared at the two hundred dollars he offered.

  Two hundred bucks. That wasn’t even the amount she had written in red ink. That was twice as much.

  Without a word, she plucked the money from his fingers, opened the register and tucked the money inside.

  “Should put that in a safe, not leave it out here.”

  As she jammed the cash drawer closed, she mumbled, “Thanks for the business advice.”

  “Nothing to do with business. Has to do with keepin’ you safe.”

  Sophie bit her bottom lip hard, but released it before turning to face him, hands on her hips.

  She tilted her head, frowning. “What do you care about my safety?”

  “Just a suggestion,” he said simply.

  “Right.”

  “My town. Want to keep it safe. You live in my town. You work in my town. Want to keep you safe, too.”

  “Your town?”

  “Yeah, Shadow Valley’s Dirty Angels territory.”

  “I thought it was Shadow Valley PD territory.”

  “Unfortunately, we gotta share.”

  Huh.

  “Okay, well, you’re all paid up. Now you can go. Thanks for the generous tip.” She shot him a fake smile, then went to move past him, but he snagged her upper arm and pulled her close.

  “Sophie,” was all he said low and growly causing her pussy to clench. Damn body. Always betraying her. For once, she wished it would betray her with the right man. Not the wrong one who was holding onto her way too tightly. She yanked her arm, but he didn’t let go.

  “Can we go back to the part where you said you’d do a biker like me?”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “That’s what I heard.”

  “Clean out your ears.”

  “I need something else cleaned out. Hardly got started last night before you left.”

  “And you think you’re going to get your second shot at me now?”

  “No. You’re gonna get your second shot at me now.”

  Her head whipped back as she looked up at him. “You think you're irresistible?”

  “Never said that.”

  “That’s what I heard,” she threw back at him.

  He scrubbed his hand across his mouth and when he pulled it away, a smile was there. “You’re somethin’ else.”

  “You got that right.”

  He hesitated and the tip of his tongue came out to run along his bottom lip. Sophie felt that all the way to the apex of her thighs. And when he said, “Wanna kiss you,” her gaze rose from his luscious lips back to those blue eyes and she felt herself getting slick.

  “You don’t always get what you want. Probably learned that in prison,” she murmured, dropping her gaze back to his lips as he leaned in.

  “I get what I want.”

  Jesus.

  That attitude is what probably landed him behind bars. But, damn, if it didn’t make her even wetter.

  This was not going well for her. This man could manipulate her simply with his words.

  Not. Good.

  Though, when he crushed his mouth to hers and slid that skilled tongue of his in between her lips, she decided—

  She didn’t know what she decided, since she lost all train of thought as he pressed himself against her and the hard, long line of his erection pushed against her belly, as well as that bulky belt buckle.

  She dug her fingers into his hair and fisted them. Then pulled back as hard as she could. If she didn’t stop this right now, she’d drag him to the floor of her bakery and ride him until she had another couple of unplanned orgasms.

  However, no matter how hard she yanked—and she knew his scalp had to be screaming by now—he wouldn’t break the kiss. In fact, he deepened it even more.

  Pushy.

  Cocky.

  Trouble with a capital T.

  It didn’t help that he made her so fucking wet. And once again, she cursed her body when her pussy started to throb.

  Throb.

  She couldn’t ever remember it throbbing solely from a kiss. It had to be the bad boy thing going on, turning her on.

  He finally pulled back slightly, his breathing as ragged as hers as he kept his mouth slightly above hers. Probably trying to make a statement that if he wanted to kiss her again, she couldn’t do anything to stop it.

  “I thought you wanted to keep me safe.” She cursed her shaky voice.

  “I do.”

  “
But not from you.”

  “You bein’ with me will keep you safe.”

  “I highly doubt that.”

  When she finally released her grip on his hair he pulled back farther, his eyes flashing. “You stay in the apartment upstairs?”

  He knew about the apartment.

  Of course, he would. He was probably born in this town. Lived here all his life, except for doing time. He came to the bakery as a child, for shit’s sakes.

  So, she couldn’t lie. Well, she could, but he’d probably see right through it.

  When she didn’t answer, he continued, “By yourself.”

  Uh oh.

  He wasn’t asking out of concern with her safety. No.

  Suddenly her panties were drenched. The thought of him dragging her upstairs, throwing her on her bed and fucking the bejeezus out of her…

  Well, yeah, it made her slightly wetter. Just slightly.

  Damn it.

  “Babe, every time I ask you a question an’ you don’t answer, gonna assume your answer’s the one I wanna hear. Got me?”

  She opened her mouth but nothing came out.

  “Sophie,” he said and stepped back.

  She caught herself on the display case since, for some reason, her body seemed boneless.

  She stared at the reason. Like last night, her conscience warred with itself about whether she should do her best to kick him out and go to bed alone or whether she should stop fighting her body’s reaction to the man in black before her.

  She bit her bottom lip as she ran her gaze from the top of his head all the way down to the toes of his boots.

  “Babe,” he said, a warning in his voice.

  She shook her head and sucked in a breath. “Tell me what you did to get ten years in prison. I can’t be sleeping with a murderer.”

  He cocked a brow and smothered a smile before answering, “We won’t be sleepin’, can promise you that.”

  If he didn’t want to answer, the decision would be easy for her. She wanted the truth and nothing but. “Well, that settles it, time for you to go.”

  His hands planted on his hips and she watched his expression shut down. Suddenly he wasn’t so cocky.

  His eyes slid from hers before answering, “Anhydrous ammonia.”

  “What?”

  He scrubbed a hand over his bearded chin, avoiding her eyes. “Was accused of stealin’ anhydrous ammonia.”

  She watched him carefully. Words were words. Body language could tell a whole different story. “And did you?”