Down & Dirty: Hawk (Dirty Angels MC Book 3)

by Jeanne St. James

  Kiki ignored his term of endearment. “I know.”

  “If I could take it back, I would.”

  “I know, Landon, but you can’t.”

  “And once again, I’ll say that I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

  Though he sounded sincere, she believed he was more sorry about getting caught.

  A clearing of a throat that was not Landon’s came from next to them. “Sorry to interrupt, would you like to hear our specials?”

  Kiki rolled her eyes when Landon said, “Of course.”

  The waiter proceeded to rattle off the overpriced specials of the night. Though, she had to admit, the food was top quality here, even if a little pricy.

  The waiter looked her direction. “Ma’am?”

  As Kiki opened her mouth, Landon cut in. “The lady will have the filet, medium rare, with a spinach salad, house dressing on the side, and the grilled asparagus. I’ll have the squab with the roasted vegetables and a Caesar salad.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Kiki held up a hand. “Uh, no.” She narrowed her eyes at Landon. “You need to stop ordering for me.” She tilted her head toward the waiter who, as professional as he was, managed to keep a blank expression. “I’ll take the lobster risotto, and a house salad, please and thank you.”

  “Very good, ma’am.” The waiter gave a sharp nod and scooted quickly away.

  “Seriously, Landon.”

  “Sorry, sweetheart. Old habits and such.”

  “It’s been two years.”

  “So, tell me about... him.”

  She hesitated. Maybe she could make a deal. “Only if you agree to sign the papers. I’d like to call you my ex-husband and have it be true.”

  “Can I hear about him first and then decide?”

  “No.”

  Landon’s lips twitched. “Can I change my mind after I hear about him?”

  “No.”

  With a shake of his head, he reached across the table, snagging her hand and squeezing. “Keek, I still care about you. More than I can express. I only want what’s best for you.”

  Great. If she told him about Hawk, he definitely wouldn’t think that man was best for her. Hell, she couldn’t even say that. But, no matter what, it wasn’t his decision.

  “He’s a successful businessman.”

  Landon’s eyebrows rose. Out of surprise or jealousy she didn’t know or care.

  “Yes? And what type of business?”

  If she was thinking about any kind of future with Hawk, she couldn’t be embarrassed to talk about him. He was who he was. He never claimed he’d change and she would never ask that of him. For the millionth time she told herself she needed to accept him as he was or move on. Or at least after a few more rounds of awesome sex.

  Landon squeezed her hand harder and it brought her back to the restaurant’s table.

  “He owns a bar.”

  “Like a piano lounge? A cigar bar?”

  Oh good lord. “No. Like a bar bar. With pool tables and... stuff.”

  “In Pittsburgh?”

  “No, Shadow Valley.”

  Something she didn’t recognize slid across Landon’s face. It was there, then it was quickly hidden. “I’ve been to that town a few times.”

  She looked at him in surprise. “You have?”

  “A client had a real estate transaction there. Cute town, but I heard there’s a biker gang that owns quite a few properties there. I advised my client against the purchase. He argued that he didn’t think owning an apartment building next to a gang-owned business would affect the value. I beg to differ.” He shrugged. “What’s the name of the bar?”

  Oh shit. “I’m sure you wouldn’t recognize it,” she quickly answered.

  He tilted his head. “Try me.”

  Her heart did a thump and a skip. “It’s a roadhouse.”

  “A roadhouse...” He frowned.

  Jesus, just rip the Band-Aid off, Kiki. “Yes, it’s The Iron Horse Roadhouse.”

  Suddenly, Landon released her hand, dug into the interior pocket of his suit jacket, and pulled out his phone. He activated the screen, hit a few buttons, typed something in as Kiki watched frozen from her seat. His gaze scrolled over whatever he pulled up. And then his eyes hit her.

  Hard.

  He turned the phone toward her. She stared at the website for The Iron Horse where it was clear—so clear it was crystal—that it was a biker bar and that motorcycle clubs were welcome.

  “Are you talking about this roadhouse?”

  “Mmm.”

  “What was that?” His eyes tipped back down to his phone, he swiped, tapped, swiped, then froze. He lifted the phone closer to his face and scowled.

  Kiki’s stomach flipped as she waited for him to show her his screen. She didn’t have to wait long.

  “Kiki,” he breathed. “Is this him?”

  Kiki opened her mouth then snapped it shut as she stared at a photo of Hawk, clearly wearing his club’s colors, clearly sitting on his Harley, clearly in front of The Iron Horse. And, of course, he had his bulky arms crossed over his wide chest, muscles bulging and his tattoos clearly on display. She’d be remiss in not noticing the really cool set of dark shades that covered his deep brown eyes.

  Oh shit.

  Well, at least he looked hot in the photo. Her heart did a little flip again, but for a totally different reason. She’d have to ask Hawk for a copy. Her eyes flicked up to Landon’s as she lifted her glass to her lips and took a long, long sip. “Maybe.”

  “Are you delusional? He’s in a freaking biker gang, Kiki.”

  “Club.”

  He waved a hand. “Semantics. He’s dangerous.”

  She stared at the liquid in her glass as she swirled it around. “A complete kitten.”

  Landon slapped his palm on the table, making the silverware jump. “Have you lost your mind?”

  His question made her snap, “Great orgasms tend to do that to me. It had been a while since I had a good one. I tend to lose my mind when I do.”

  Kiki glanced up at the waiter holding two salads, a spot of red in both cheeks. Whoops.

  The server slid the plates in front of them, then scurried off like his pants were on fire. She stared at her almost empty glass and realized she really, really needed to order another round. Or two.

  “Do you think you could wave that poor man back over here and get me another drink?”

  He made a noise of disbelief. “Do you think this is humorous?”

  It sure didn’t feel like she was laughing. She wasn’t even finding any of this slightly amusing. “Not at all. I also don’t appreciate you insulting a man you know nothing about.”

  They both ignored their salads and Landon scooted his chair closer to the table to lean toward Kiki. “How the hell did you meet him?”

  “He’s a... client.”

  At her words, Landon slapped a hand over his eyes and shook his head.

  Honestly, he was acting way too dramatic. She scowled at him.

  “Not a surprise he’s been arrested. And I’m sure more than once.”

  No point in fudging the truth about something that was public record. “Sure has.”

  “He wears a black leather vest with dirty patches all over it.”

  Landon wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t know. “Not when he’s naked.”

  His eyes narrowed at her answer. “He’s solid tattoos.”

  “Not completely.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him trying to lighten the mood, though failing miserably. She scanned the busy restaurant for their waiter. She’d flag him down herself if need be. But right now, water wasn’t going to cut it.

  “Jesus, Kiki.”

  There he was, hiding in a corner. Kiki waved her hand at their server in an attempt to get his attention.

  “No, not Jesus. But Hawk does make me call out Jesus’ father’s name sometimes. Well, a lot, actually.”

  “Hawk. What’s his real name?”

  “Hawk.”

>   “Who names their kid Hawk?”

  Who names their daughter Kiki? “A biker named Ace.”

  “Does he have a brother named Falcon?”

  “No... Diesel.”

  “Get the hell out of here,” Landon muttered.

  She’d had enough of this line of questioning. They needed to get back to the reason for her dinner invitation. “Landon, please. I’m done talking about this. I brought the papers for you to sign. Will you do that for me, please?”

  “Kiki...”

  “Landon, no. You’re out of my life, or will be when you finally sign the papers. What I do is no concern of yours. Who I’m with isn’t either. I’m not stupid.”

  “I don’t like it, sweetheart.”

  “I’m sure you don’t.”

  “I only want you to be happy.”

  “Then sign the papers.”

  Landon leaned back in his chair and sighed. “After we eat. If this is our last meal together, I want to enjoy it.”

  Kiki grabbed her fork and stabbed her salad. “Then let’s eat.” Though she doubted she was going to enjoy one bite.

  After she ignored his demand to stay put last night, Hawk fought the temptation to chase after her. Even though he had no fucking clue where she lived. In the time they’d spent together, she had never once revealed that information or invited him to her place.

  Which was telling.

  So, last night despite his instinct to find her, throw her over his lap and spank her for not listening, he let it go. If she wanted him, she knew where he lived, where he worked, where he played.

  But today he finally broke down and asked Ivy to do her Internet magic. To dig up her address. And if she couldn’t or wouldn’t, then he’d get one of Diesel’s connections to dig up the information he needed.

  Surprisingly, Ivy complied. He had expected her to give him a bunch of shit since the women tended to stick together and have each other’s backs. Which was good for them. Not so great for the men.

  His first mistake was going to Kiki’s condo in Pittsburgh. He couldn’t get into the lower level parking garage since it was keycard access only. From outside alone, he knew she was paying a pretty penny to live there.

  As he rounded the block twice looking for a place to park his sled, he caught a glimpse of red leaving the garage.

  His second mistake was weaving through traffic while trying to catch up with her Vette since she drove like a madwoman. He planned on having a long talk with her about that. He was cut off once by a cab and almost T-boned by a city bus. He fucking hated everything about the city.

  Now he hated it even more. He ground his back molars so hard, the muscles in his jaw felt like they popped.

  At first, he thought she may be meeting a client. Especially since the restaurant was upscale. Kiki was definitely dressed for work with her typical tight skirt that fell just above her knees, her sexy-as-fuck stockings, and those higher-than-hell stilettos. And that fucking blouse... What man could concentrate with her tits hanging out like that?

  Maybe one who wasn’t straight. But when he saw the man who approached her, there was no doubt he wasn’t gay. Nope. It took everything in Hawk’s power not to bust into the restaurant right then and there when the man in the suit wrapped his hand around her neck and kissed her.

  Yeah, there wasn’t any tongue and it was on the top of her head, but fuck if any man should be touching her. At all.

  And when the suit settled into the chair across from her, it wasn’t hard to miss him eye-fucking her.

  Seeing how this guy was dressed reminded him, once again, she was way out of his league. He couldn’t even begin to compete with a man like the one who joined her at her table.

  Hawk needed to leave. It did him no good to pace back and forth in front of the restaurant’s wide picture window like a crazed stalker.

  The two valets stationed at the stand by the front door kept eyeballing him like he might rip their throats out. And, fuck him, he just might. Especially when the suit reached out and grabbed Kiki’s hand.

  That fucker had intimate knowledge of her. And if he didn’t, he was trying to.

  A low growl escaped his lips.

  Ain’t gonna happen. No fuckin’ way.

  Within three strides he was at the double doors to the restaurant, his hand gripping the handle hard.

  “Uh...” one of the valets began. Hawk shot him a look and the valet’s jaw snapped shut.

  Smart choice.

  He yanked the door open and paused at the entrance when the hostess’ mouth dropped open.

  Jesus. These people acted like they never saw anyone with a couple tattoos.

  As he strode past the hostess stand, she called out, “Sir! Do you have a reservation?”

  Hawk snorted and kept moving, his boots heading him in the right direction while his brain focused on the table in the far corner of the busy restaurant. The din that hit him when he first opened the door became a low murmur as he moved between the tables. Or maybe he was just that fixated on his destination.

  Since eyeballs tracked him, he figured the first one was more likely.

  Kiki’s fork, with lettuce and a tomato slice speared on the tines, was paused halfway to her mouth when she turned as if in slow motion. Her eyes widened when she saw him.

  “Oh, look, it’s your boyfriend,” the man murmured with a frown, dropping his fork onto his plate with a clatter.

  Hawk ignored him, his eyes pinned on Kiki as he stepped up to the table. “Yeah, babe. Got it.”

  Kiki carefully set her fork down without breaking his gaze. “Got what?”

  “The truth.”

  She swallowed hard enough he could see it. “Hawk, what truth?”

  He ripped his gaze from her throat back to her eyes and threw a hand out. “This is you. You don’t belong in my life.”

  “What?” she whispered, her face becoming pale and her eyes wide.

  “All this, babe. Can’t give it to you. Don’t wanna give it to you. Ain’t me. But it’s you. Deserve better. Deserve this kinda shit. Don’t deserve my kinda shit.”

  “Jesus. Does he even speak English?”

  Kiki’s gaze flew to the man across the table from her. “Landon!” she snapped.

  Landon.

  Right. Fancy name for a fancy guy. A guy with some serious scratch. One who could give Kiki what she needs and deserves.

  It was clear to Hawk what she needed wasn’t a biker like him.

  “Are you going to introduce me, sweetheart?”

  Sweetheart? What the fuck.

  His lip curled.

  Some man in a monkey suit approached them and wearily sidled up to Hawk. “Sir,” he whispered. “You’re creating a disturbance. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  Hawk looked down at the man, whose Adam’s apple bobbed wildly. “How am I makin’ a disturbance? Just standin’ here.”

  The man’s face twitched. “About that... we... uh... we also have a jacket policy, sir.”

  Sir. Hawk snorted. He tugged on his vest. “Wearing a vest.”

  “Something with sleeves. And... preferably not in leather.”

  “Gotta problem with cows? Can’t imagine that, seein’ you serve them on a plate here.”

  Kiki pushed her chair back and started to rise. “Hawk...”

  “No, babe. Stay here. Have your fancy dinner with your fancy guy here. I’m headin’ back home. Kept tellin’ myself we’re too different. Needed to be slapped in the fuckin’ face with it. Got the truth now. I’m good.”

  “Hawk...”

  “Can’t give you what he can. Need to be with him.” Jesus, it killed him to say that but it had to be said.

  “See, sweetheart? Even he agrees—” Landon’s words stopped when Kiki glared at him. Landon raised his palms up in surrender.

  “Don’t pass on somethin’ good, babe. You got it, keep it.”

  “Plan on it,” he heard her murmur as he spun on his heel to stop embarrassing the fuck out of him
self. He needed to get some pride and move the fuck on.

  Hearing her say those last words made his chest cave in, his stomach churn, and his heart freeze as he weaved through the occupied tables on his way back to the front door. All eyes followed him on his exit, too.

  “Nothin’ but a freak to ‘em,” he grumbled under his breath as he shoved the door open and stepped out into the night air.

  He struggled to breathe as he stalked to his bike, kicked the starter and raced off into the night.

  Chapter Thirteen

  A whole week later and she had balls big enough to show up at his bar on a busy Friday night. For what?

  She needed him to scratch another fucking itch?

  Did she get bored with the suit, Landon, that quickly and get shot of his ass?

  Maybe pretty boy couldn’t give it to her hard enough, rough enough for her liking and she had to come slumming to get some good coming.

  He had known the second she walked in the door and his eyes had been automatically drawn to her. He could’ve met her halfway but he didn’t. He wasn’t giving her that. She had to come all the way to him.

  However, he wasn’t the only one who noticed her immediately. The urge to beat the fuck out of every man who eyeballed her was strong as she swung her hips on her journey across The Iron Horse floor to where he was.

  What she was wearing now wasn’t much better than the DAMC camisole-thingy she wore at the Dogs & Hogs event. As he watched her full tits bounce with each step, he had to put the mug he was drying down before it shattered in his hands.

  She wore a white, snug button-down blouse that had such a deep V he was surprised her nipples weren’t playing peek-a-boo. Tight jeans hugged every line of her hips and thighs. Brown high-heeled leather boots covered her legs all the way to the knees. A brown leather belt cinched her waist, emphasizing her hourglass curves.

  Curves he couldn’t get enough of.

  Fuck me.

  This woman had crawled under his skin and was now deeply infused in his blood.

  He thought he could let her go after last week. Just like he foolishly thought he could let her go after she walked away the month before.

  Watching her approach the bar proved just how wrong he had been. Once again.