“Do I get a say in this?”
He pushed to his feet, tugged his worn Harley tee over his head and dropped it on the floor. “Nope. Told you from now on you need dick, you get mine.”
“Maybe I don’t want yours.”
“Tell me that again in about an hour.”
Ivy snorted. “Won’t take you an hour.”
“Whatever, woman.”
“Is the front door hanging wide open?”
“Yep.”
She arched a brow. “Do you think you should go secure it?”
That was probably a good idea. Never know when the Shadow Warriors were in the area. He didn’t need to make it easier for them to do something like fire-bombing Ivy’s apartment. Or coming in when the two of them were getting busy, knocking him the fuck out and kidnapping Ivy.
Then he’d end up in SCI Greene for murder. Because no one was touching his woman.
No one.
He stalked out of the bedroom, closed the front door as best as he could, then shoved a recliner against the door.
Good enough. At least now he’d hear someone trying to break in.
He unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his jeans and was sliding the zipper down as he reentered her bedroom.
Fuck.
Seeing Ivy still sitting up in bed, taking him busting into her apartment in stride, he realized how much she did it for him. She would be his ultimate ol’ lady. She was already part of the biker life, so she knew the rules, she worked hard and was smart as hell.
And fuck if she didn’t give him a constant hard-on. Not to mention, her pussy was as sweet as fuck.
She was perfect.
He just had to convince her that he was perfect for her.
Though, she might need a bit more convincing in that respect.
Tonight would be another step toward that goal.
He shoved his jeans down and left them where he stepped out of them. Hooking his thumbs into his boxer briefs, he shoved them down, too.
The whole time she just watched him, not saying a damn word. But he could see the heat in her eyes as she checked him out.
She was in no way immune to his charms.
He wrapped his fingers around the root of his charm and stroked himself once, twice, then thumbed the precum at the end.
“Get rid of the sheet,” he ordered. He was dying to see what she was wearing. He had told her to wear something sexy, and he hoped she had listened, but, honestly, would be surprised if she had.
However, when she flipped the sheet off her, he squeezed his dick harder.
Fuck.
She was wearing a tight pink camisole top that not only didn’t contain her cleavage, but it didn’t do anything to hide how hard her nipples were, either. She also wore some little shorts that almost looked like boxers. Boxers that looked way better on her than any man.
“You normally wear that to bed?”
She ran her fingers absently over the thin strap at her shoulder. “Yeah.”
“So you didn’t do what I asked.” Not that he was going to complain about what she was wearing, but he was disappointed she didn’t wear it just for him.
“You didn’t ask. You demanded.”
“Sounds ‘bout right.”
“You don’t like what I’m wearing?” she asked.
Oh, he liked it. His dick liked it, too.
But when she pouted, a jolt shot through him. Ivy never fucking pouted. She didn’t play sex kitten games like that. What the fuck was her play?
His eyes narrowed. “What’s your game, woman?”
Her eyes widened, her face a mask of feigned innocence. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t fuck with me,” he warned in a grumble.
“I’m not fucking with you. I’m waiting for you to get in bed and fuck me.”
Jag hesitated. This was way too easy. “You drunk?”
Ivy laughed sharply and shook her head. “Stone cold sober.”
“What’s with the turnabout?”
“I’m thinking you’re right. When I need dick, you give it to me. But that’s it. Nothing more than that.”
He frowned.
She continued, “Here’s the deal... I call. You come. We fuck. You leave. Keep it simple.” She wasn’t done yet. “But there’s more... Stay out of my personal life, I’ll stay out of yours.”
He wasn’t liking the sound of that.
“I’m not your property. I’m not your ol’ lady. Think of me as an independent agent.”
He wasn’t liking the sound of that, either.
“You don’t claim me at church.”
He hated the sound of that.
“Take it or leave it.”
Fucking goddamn.
Pissed or not, Jag was thinking about what she just offered him. That she could clearly see written on his dark, angry face.
But, she also could see him agreeing to her terms then not far down the road trying to claim her in front of the brothers. Even going as far as asking the club officers to vote on her being his ol’ lady.
And, normally, they wouldn’t even give a damn if she wanted that or not. She belonged to the club, like it or not, and they could decide her fate.
But if he tried that, she’d have to rely on Hawk and Diesel to vote it down, as well as her brother Dex. Though, Dex could be a wild card. Knowing him, he’d probably think it was a good idea that she be tied down to Jag.
She couldn’t imagine Ace agreeing with it, either. But just to be safe, if it came down to it, she’d just need to do some politicking with her blood.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
And if Jag proposed it and they agreed, she’d make their lives a living hell.
Never fuck with a redhead.
She looked at the naked man standing in the middle of her bedroom stroking his cock.
Someone may need that lesson sooner than later.
But first, she did have a man naked in the middle of her bedroom. And he just happened to be stroking his very nice cock.
One he was extremely skilled with.
And, if she had to admit it, he was just as accomplished, if not better, with his tongue. Which made her wet, as did his full sleeves of colorful tattoos, including the flames that ran up both forearms. And if he turned around, he sported all the same patches that were the club colors in black and grey on the skin of his back, too.
And, if she had to admit it, that was fucking hot as hell.
Damn it.
But it was those club rockers and patch that made him who he was.
Which was a misogynistic Neanderthal.
“Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to get over here and take care of business?” she prodded.
When he finally moved, his eyes remained hot and focused on her, but he moved around the bed instead of onto it. He opened her drawer and dug out the box of condoms.
And right there in front of her, he counted them. He certainly did. Out loud, too.
Ivy rolled her eyes. “Now I know that you’re smart enough to count.”
When he got to seven, his gaze met hers and his eyes narrowed. “Missin’ one.”
“Maybe I spoke too soon. You can use your fingers if you need to.”
“Babe, I know you’re bein’ a smart ass, but there’s only seven.”
“That can’t be right. Anyhow, just grab one and let’s go.” She snapped her fingers. “I don’t have all night.”
With a scowl, he tilted the open box so she could see inside. “Seven,” he repeated in a deep growl, sounding a bit miffed. He stepped closer to the bed. “Had this discussion. No one in here but me. Musta misunderstood me, not heard the words I was sayin’.”
“I heard you. I never said I was going to listen.”
His spine snapped straight. “You think I want in where someone else just was?”
“You fucked Goldie. There were a whole lot of someone elses in there. I didn’t think you were that picky.”
His no
strils flared, and she knew she was playing with fire. And he was stoked red hot.
“If you don’t like to hear the truth, you know where the door is. You know, the one you kicked in.”
“Ain’t gonna get off that easy.”
“I’m sitting here waiting for you to get me off, and you’re not making it easy. So you are correct.”
“Gotta smart mouth.”
“Nothing you didn’t already know, Jag.”
He sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair. “Fuckin’ with me gets you goin’, don’t it?”
“Yeah, it’s like foreplay. So. Let’s. Go.” She patted the bed.
He hesitated, staring at her. Probably fighting with himself whether he should just leave and find someone easier to deal with. Most likely wondering if she was worth the hassle. But in the end, he shook his head, threw the box on the nightstand and climbed onto the bed, his cock hard and hanging between his muscular thighs.
Clearly, he ate up the shit she gave him.
He didn’t want easy. He could get that any night of the week with one of the sweet butts at church.
Or he could get that with one of Dawg’s girls. He only needed to make a call.
No, he didn’t want easy.
His kicking her door in—hell, both of them—proved that.
And she certainly was good at making it hard for him. In more ways than one.
She didn’t want sweet sex from him. She wanted it hard. She wanted it rough. She wanted it angry and hot.
She could get the boring shit anywhere else.
That’s not what she wanted from Jag.
And if she had to torque him up a little to get what she wanted...
So be it.
Ivy watched him continue to stroke his cock. Every movement of his hand made her clench deep inside. She wanted that hand, those fingers, on her.
“Are you going to keep that to yourself or are you going to give it to me?”
“Fuckin’ gonna give it to you, baby. You’re still dressed.”
“I didn’t know I had to undress mys—” Before she could finish, he grabbed her ankles, yanking her onto her back and down the bed. He ripped her shorts down her legs and off her feet, throwing them somewhere over his shoulder.
Then he shoved her cami up over her breasts, burying his face between them, snagging both nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, rolling them hard, making her cry out in both pain and pleasure.
Yes. This.
This was what she wanted from him. Not that sweet shit he tried to give her last time.
His teeth scraped her skin before sinking into the side of her breast. Her body bowed in response, and she threw her head back, crying out once again.
“This what you want? This?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” she yelled, her eyes rolling back.
“Fuckin’ Ivy,” he muttered before pulling one of her nipples deep into his mouth, scoring the tip with his teeth. She grabbed onto his thickly muscled shoulders, digging her nails in, then raked them up his neck.
He shuddered against her and groaned around her nipple. Nipping along her skin, he came nose to nose with her.
“Want it rough, that what you want?”
Something flashed in his eyes when she hissed, “Yes.”
He finished tugging her cami over her head and flung it across the room. “Your tits are so goddamn sweet,” he murmured before sucking the other nipple into his mouth, he gripped her other breast and squeezed hard.
Yes, that was how she liked it.
His cock pressed against her thigh and she couldn’t wait to have him inside her. But first...
“Are you hungry, yet?”
He lifted his head, met her gaze with a smile. “Starvin’, baby.” Pushing back to his knees, he shoved her legs up, throwing them over his shoulder, and buried his face between her thighs.
“Fuck yes,” she shouted to the ceiling. She squirmed when he chuckled against her swollen, soaked lips. He sucked her clit hard, and she dug her heels into his back, sinking her fingers into his hair, holding him close, encouraging him to get even closer.
Her whole body jerked with each flick of his tongue against her overly sensitive nub. Then skilled fingers were inside her, curling, finding the spot that made her hips dance even more. He teased her with his mouth, his tongue, tortured her with his fingers... until she couldn’t take any more.
“I’m coming,” she wailed as the blood rushed through her, her body vibrated against him, around him. He bit hard into the flesh of her inner thigh. “Oh fuck!”
“My baby likes it rough.”
She ignored the “my” part of “my baby” when he sank his teeth into her other thigh. “Fuck, Jag, yes!”
“Goddamn,” he whispered, pulling himself up and over her, going face to face. “Grab a condom,” he demanded, his eyes dark, heated.
Ivy slipped her hand under her pillow and held one up with a smile. “Number eight.”
“Fuckin’ Ivy,” he muttered, shaking his head, but she didn’t miss his grin before he slammed his lips down on hers. His tongue plundered her mouth and his hands dug deep into her hair, pulling her head back, arching her neck. He broke away and tugged on her hair even harder.
He sounded out of breath when he asked, “Like your hair pulled?”
Fuck. “Yes.”
“Like your ass spanked?” He scraped his teeth along her throat.
Ah fuck. “Yes.”
He lifted his head. “Those nerd boys of yours give you what you need?” When she didn’t answer him, he tugged her hair again. “Answer me, Ivy. They give you what you need?”
She was damned if she answered him, damned if she didn’t. She knew the thought of her being with other men bothered him. It shouldn’t since she had lost her virginity a long, long time ago. But she knew it did. And at twenty-eight, she’d been through quite a few men, but she was sure his conquests outnumbered hers by at least triple. If not more.
The old double standard reared its ugly head.
And though some of the men she’d been with could get as “down and dirty” as a biker, most of them didn’t. Or couldn’t. It just wasn’t in them.
“Takin’ your silence as a no,” he said, pushing himself back on his knees once again. He snagged the condom she had hidden earlier, ripped it open, and rolled it on. When he was done, he met her gaze. “I can give you what you need, baby.” He smacked his palm against his bare chest. “Me. I’ll give it to you any way you want it. Long as I’m the only one in here.”
There he went again, demanding exclusivity. The fear of being tied down to one man, hell, tied down to a biker to boot, went through her.
She was young. She had more life to live yet before she settled down.
If she ever settled down.
At this point, she saw no reason to do just that. Be with only one man for the rest of her life.
She enjoyed her freedom. Or as free as she could be being part of an MC.
But what was staring at her right now was the opposite of freedom.
“Not promising you jack,” she whispered, knowing it would piss him off, but it had to be said.
A muscle twitched in his hard jaw and his eyes narrowed. Then he grabbed her and flipped her over roughly, yanking her hips up and back, then with not even a slight hesitation slammed into her with a grunt.
“Fuckin’ woman’s gotta fight me at every turn.” With each slam, he grunted. With each impact, the air rushed from her lungs. She buried her head in her pillow, her lips parted as she struggled for breath.
The crack of his hand against her ass surprised her more than hurt her. And when she laughed, he froze mid-motion. She twisted her neck to look behind her. He was staring at her with what sort of looked like a confused expression on his face. But his nostrils flared and his eyes burned like coals. Then, with a grimace, he dug the fingers of one hand into the flesh of her hip and smacked her hard again with the other.
Her body shifted forward with the
impact, but she shoved herself back, impaling herself on him. “That’s it, Jag, fucking give it to me.”
“Goddamn,” he grunted and did it again, just as hard. Her skin began to burn where he spanked her.
“The other side, too,” she encouraged him, breathing hard now, tilting her hips, taking him as deep as she could.
He switched sides and smacked her again.
“Fuck, yes,” she screamed into the pillow, gripping the sheet tightly in her fists.
“For fuck’s sake, Ivy,” he barked.
“Shut up and do it!” she yelled at him.
He did it again, not as hard this time. Then his body collapsed over her, covering her, and he sank his teeth into her shoulder. She quivered uncontrollably beneath him, her groan muffled. She squeezed him hard with her inner muscles and he grunted against her skin.
“Again,” she encouraged.
When he bit the back of her neck, she cried out. She released her grip on the sheet and found her own clit, pressing, circling, rubbing until her body vibrated on the edge. And then she found what she was looking for... release. Her pussy clenched hard around him and he groaned, straightening back up, now holding onto both hips, but holding still as she came down from her high.
Once he slipped from her, she moved quickly to her back, spreading her thighs, inviting him to come back to her, but he shook his head, his hair falling across his forehead, into his face. She swept it away and seconds later, she was on top of him, straddling his belly, his cock pressed against her.
Rising to her knees, she shifted back and while he held his cock in place, she slowly lowered herself and sighed when she hit the end of him. Of her.
She planted her palms on his heavily tattooed chest and used that leverage to ride him hard and fast, never breaking eye contact with him once. Not even when she came for the second time and didn’t break her rhythm.
His face was twisted in a grimace, and she knew he struggled to keep her gaze because he wanted to close his eyes and blow his load. But he didn’t. She could see the battle to keep his shit together, to prove to her that he could be everything she needed.
But this was just sex. Nothing more.
Nothing more.
He dragged his fingers through her hair and then palmed both of her breasts, thumbing the nipples until they were hard peaks. And to Ivy, they felt as though they had swelled larger, filled his hands fuller.
Down & Dirty: Books 1-3: Dirty Angels MC Series Box Set Page 27
