Down & Dirty: Dex
Dirty Angels MC, Book 8
Jeanne St. James
Copyright © 2018 by Jeanne St. James
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editor: Proofreading by the Page
Cover Art: Susan Garwood of Wicked Women Designs
Beta Readers: Author Whitley Cox, Krisztina Hollo, Andi Babcock and Nessa Kreyling
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DISCLAIMER: Please do not try any new sexual practice (BDSM or otherwise) without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. The author will not be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in this book.
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Contents
Books by Jeanne St. James
About the Book
DAMC
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Down & Dirty: Linc
Sneak peak of Down & Dirty: Linc
Guts & Glory Series
If You Enjoyed This Book
Bear’s Family Tree
Doc’s Family Tree
Also by Jeanne St. James
Audio Books by Jeanne St. James
About the Author
FREE Erotic Sampler Book
Books by Jeanne St. James
Made Maleen: A Modern Twist on a Fairy Tale
Damaged
Rip Cord: The Complete Trilogy
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 Novelette
The Dare Ménage Series:
(Can be read as standalones)
Double Dare
Daring Proposal
Dare to Be Three
A Daring Desire
Dare to Surrender
The Obsessed Novellas:
(All the novellas in this series are standalones)
Forever Him
Only Him
Needing Him
Loving Her
Temping Him
Down & Dirty: Dirty Angels MC Series:
(Can be read as standalones)
Down & Dirty: Zak
Down & Dirty: Jag
Down & Dirty: Hawk
Down & Dirty: Diesel
Down & Dirty: Axel
Down & Dirty: Slade
Down & Dirty: Dawg
Down & Dirty: Dex
Down & Dirty: Linc
Down & Dirty: Crow
You can find information on all of Jeanne’s books here:
http://www.jeannestjames.com/
Welcome to Shadow Valley where the Dirty Angels MC rules. Get ready to get Down & Dirty because this is Dex’s story…
A stranger with a diary that contains a thirty-year-old secret. One that could rip a brotherhood apart...
DAMC born and bred, Dex was never like the rest of his club brothers. Even though being a biker was his destiny, something was always missing. He could never figure out what it was or why until one day a woman walks into Shadow Valley Pawn. A sexy, badass woman who challenges him at every turn.
When Brooke discovers the truth about her mother after her death, she comes to Shadow Valley. However, a simple trip to find answers twists into something she never expects. Not only that, but the successful businesswoman crosses paths with a biker who tests the control she loves so much both inside and outside of the bedroom.
Unexpectedly, Brooke not only flips a switch inside Dex and shows him his true self, she learns it’s okay to give up some of the independence she holds onto so tightly.
But that’s not the only discoveries the two make. One secret shakes the club to their core by exposing a member who’s been destroying them from the inside out.
Note: This book can be read as a standalone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, biker slang, cursing, some violence and, of course, an HEA. If you like alpha males who like to take charge, this book is for you.
Down & Dirty ’til Dead
Chapter One
Dex had a fucking half-chub. He grimaced because he needed to adjust it, but if his sister caught him doing so, she would give him shit. He glanced over his shoulder through the large picture window into the pawn shop’s office where Ivy sat working in front of a computer.
Fucking hell.
Then his neck twisted once again to stare at the woman who was wandering around Shadow Valley Pawn pretending to check out the items for sale.
She was faking it and he wanted to know why.
It was possible she was just trying to pass the time. Maybe she’d been sent here from that asshole rival MC, the Shadow Warriors, to case the joint so they could wreak future havoc.
They hadn’t heard from those outlaw nomads in a while, so it was about time for them to show their bastard faces.
But no matter why the woman was here, Dex couldn’t ignore the fact that the woman was fucking dick-hardening sexy.
Smoking hot.
Tall. Leggy. And tits that made his mouth water.
Fuck.
Now his half chub was a full-blown hard-on.
Fuck it. He reached down and yanked it to a more comfortable position.
Fuck Ivy. She could bitch all she wanted.
If he was lucky, she hadn’t noticed.
Now that he wasn’t so uncomfortable, he leaned back against the counter behind the glass display case and crossed his arms over his chest as he continued to check the “customer” out.
Her hair was like a strawberry blonde. He was pretty sure that’s what chicks called it. Not as red as his sister Ivy’s and not as light blonde as Emma’s, Dawg’s ol’ lady. An in-between.
He could imagine the woman on her knees in front of him, his dick in her mouth, his fingers wrapped tightly in her hair and her head bobbing up and down.
Fuck yeah.
His dick twitched, and his balls pulled tight as he wondered if the carpet matched the drapes.
For fuck’s sake, he never wanted to lick a carpet as badly than he did at that moment.
He needed to see the color of her eyes. He wanted to imagine what they would look like when she tipped them up toward him as he blew his load into her mouth.
He groaned. Then groaned again when she ran her fingers over a marble sculpture that reminded him of some ancient dildo.
Yeah, that’s it.
When she circled the base of the sculpture with her fingers, a soft whimper escaped him before he could stop it.
Fuck. He was going commando today and his dick was making a mess in his jeans. He shifted, then shifted again as the denim scraped the sensitive head.
He might have to go back into the storage area, lock himself in a closet and relieve the load in his balls.
He checked over his shoulder once more to make sure Ivy was doing whatever she did. Her head was down and she was busy typing away on the keyboard.
His gaze shot back to the sex-on-a-stick who was now running her thumb over the crown of the...
It was a fucking sculpture!
Why the fuck did Ace accept that pawn? No one in their right mind would pay a grand for a marble thing that looked too much like a dick.
Maybe this chick would since she seemed fascinated by it.
He pushed off the counter, adjusted himself one more time, and strode over to where she stood fondling the...
“Hey.” He winced as his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and dropped his voice an octave. “Hey, you need any help?”
Glancing up from running her finger up and down the smooth veiny marble, she pinned him in place with...
He couldn’t tell what color her eyes were. They were blue, but not a typical blue. Like a greyish blue, sky blue, slate blue, whatever. He had no fucking clue since they seemed to keep changing the longer he stared at her. Maybe it was because of the lack of blood to his brain.
“What are they?” he asked as if in a trance.
“What?” she asked softly.
“Your eyes. What color are they?”
She raised her brows and tilted her head to study his face. “Do you ask all of your customers that?”
Just the ones that make my dick hard. “Yeah, it’s a requirement.”
“Like a credit check?”
“Somethin’ like that.”
Her lips twitched, and she shrugged. “They’re blue.”
Simple enough. Those blue eyes met his and he pictured himself pumping his cum down her throat.
She jerked her head toward his now throbbing dick. “Do you always sport wood when you talk to your customers, too?”
Dex smiled, but kept his hand from creeping down to touch what she was looking at. “Depends on who the customer is.”
“You know that’s sexual harassment, right?”
He frowned. “What is?”
“Undressing me with your eyes the moment I walked through the door, staring at my tits, standing this close to me with a hard-on.”
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t jerk off a marble dick.”
Her gaze bounced to the sculpture, and she removed her hand. “Is that what it is?”
“Dunno. Don’t care. Just know I’d like to be in its place.”
She clicked her tongue. “I guess you didn’t hear what I just said.”
“Nope.” He grinned. “Haven’t touched you yet. When I do, you can warn me again about my bad behavior.”
“Or misbehavior.”
Dex shrugged. “Just wanna let you know, I like what I see.”
“So, the marble sculpture turns you on?” Her eyes crinkled at the corners.
“You touchin’ it did.”
“No filter, huh?”
“Whataya mean?”
“You just say,” she waved a hand around, “whatever’s in your head.”
“Yep. Pretty much.”
She laughed and shook her head.
Damn, that laugh didn’t help the little problem in his jeans. Fuck that, his big problem.
“I guess you work here?”
“Yeah,” he grunted.
She jerked her chin at his cut. “Is that a uniform all the employees wear?”
“Some of us.” At least Ace and Dex wore the Dirty Angels MC colors. Ivy didn’t wear her ol’ man’s cut. And Ace had a couple of part-timers who worked in the pawn shop, but they weren’t a part of their club. “Ain’t a uniform. It’s a cut.”
“I know what it is,” she answered.
Dex pursed his lips and ran his gaze over her from top to toe. Sexual harassment be damned. Did the Warriors send her in?
Would those fuckwads even know a woman who looked like her?
She wore jeans that hugged her thighs and hips, brown high-heeled boots that went up to her knees, and a tight long sleeved-top that... yeah, emphasized her rack. A brown leather coat was tossed over her arm.
“Don’t look like a biker chick,” he murmured.
“What does a biker chick look like?”
Good fucking question.
The buzzer went off, indicating the front door to the shop had opened, and Ace stepped inside. His uncle’s eyes immediately landed on them and Ace shook his head.
As he passed, he gave Dex a pointed look. Ace didn’t like Dex flirting with the customers. He’d warned him time and time again not to turn into Pierce, the former DAMC president, who was a total dick and liked to take advantage of women by...
Sexually harassing them.
Fuck.
He shuffled his feet, hoping Ace didn’t spot his hard-on, and cleared his throat again. He was supposed to be helping customers and making sales, not chasing them away.
“So... you wanna buy that... thing?” He cocked an eyebrow toward the sculpture.
“For a thousand bucks? I could buy a Rabbit cheaper.”
“What?”
“I said no.”
That wasn’t what she said. He had no idea what a rabbit was, besides the kind that hopped. But maybe he should find out.
Later. When he was alone.
“So if you don’t want it, what are you here for? What are you lookin’ for?”
“My father.”
The guy was handsome... sort of. In a bit of a rough biker way. But he wasn’t bad. He didn’t have a beer gut. Yet. And he didn’t have a long beard. Yet. Unlike the older man that had just entered and walked through the pawn shop in worn jeans, heavy biker boots and wearing a similar cut as this one’s.
Brooke’s gaze went over to where the man stood behind the counter. Could he be him? Her father?
“Who’s your father?”
Her attention was drawn back to the man before her. Colorful tattoos spilled over his forearms, from where his long-sleeved thermal shirt was pushed up past his elbows, down to his wrists. He sported a small gold hoop in one ear and a couple fingers were encircled by clunky brass-colored rings. A wide band of leather wrapped around his left wrist. So typical of a biker. “Trying to figure that out.”
He had good teeth, though, and he looked clean. Well, except for his leather vest. The patches were dirty. But then it wasn’t like he could throw his cut into the washing machine. A white rectangular patch over his right chest said “Secretary.”
“Why would you come here, though? Gotta have a reason.”
Brooke moved behind the biker to read the back of his cut. She reached out and brushed her fingers over the top rocker of his colors. “Because of that.”
He twisted his head. “What?”
“What your patches say.”
He spun around to face her. “Fuckin’ speak English.”
She shrugged. “Okay. Like I said, I’m looking for my father.”
His dark brows furrowed. “And what does that have to do with the DAMC?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s a member. Or was. At least when I was conceived. Not sure if he still is.”
Brooke watched a look cross his face. It held a mixture of disbelief and surprise. Her gaze dropped to his name patch. Dex.
She wondered what that name meant. Surely all bikers had a nickname. “Dex.”
“Yeah,” he grunted, then turned to yell across the shop to the older biker behind the counter. “Ace, you got another kid you don’t know about?”
The older biker’s eyes widened, then narrowed as they landed on Brooke.
“What the fuck you
talkin’ ‘bout?” this “Ace” grumbled as he rounded the long glass display counter and headed in their direction.
“A kid. As in, you knocked up a bitch an’ didn’t know?”
Brooke sighed. She should take offense at this Dex calling her mother a bitch. Hell, she should take offense at the way he fucked her with his eyes.
Ace was pulling on his long salt and pepper beard as he approached and eyeballed her up and down. Almost as if he was trying to see if she looked familiar. She did look like her mother, at least before the cancer turned her into nothing but a shell.
Ace’s voice was gruff and worn like his cut. “How old are you?”
Some women would also take offense to that question. But she was here for a specific reason, so it would be smart for her to answer. “Thirty.”
Ace snorted and ran a hand over his brow as if he was wiping off sweat. “Ain’t mine. Janice had me neutered after Diesel came outta her like a wreckin’ ball.”
Brooke should feel relieved that this biker wasn’t her father. But she wasn’t. Disappointment crept in before she could knock it away. Because that meant she had to keep looking.
“Also, haven’t fucked anyone other than Janice since Hawk was conceived on the back of my sled. Knew right then it was true love.” He shot her a wide grin and then leaned closer like he was about to tell her a secret. “Yeah. Tight pussy over a Harley. Nothin’ better than that.”
Down & Dirty: Dex (Dirty Angels MC Book 8) Page 1
