Down & Dirty: Diesel (Dirty Angels MC Book 4) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Down & Dirty: Diesel

  Dirty Angels MC, Book 4

  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, Rita Cerdeira & Krisztina Holló

  www.jeannestjames.com

  Sign up for my newsletter for insider information, author news, and new releases:

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  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Disclaimer

  Books by Jeanne St. James

  About the Down & Dirty: Diesel

  Acknowledgments

  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

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Down & Dirty: Axel Sneak Peek

  Down & Dirty: Axel (unedited) Sneak Peek

  Bear’s Family Tree

  Doc’s Family Tree

  If You Enjoyed This Book

  About the Author

  Also by Jeanne St. James

  FREE Erotic Sampler Book

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by underaged readers.

  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.

  Keep an eye on her website at http://www.jeannestjames.com/or sign up for her newsletter to learn about her upcoming releases: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup

  Books by Jeanne St. James

  Made Maleen: A Modern Twist on a Fairy Tale

  Damaged

  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

  The Rip Cord Trilogy:

  Rip Cord: The Reunion

  Rip Cord: The Weekend

  Rip Cord: The Ever After

  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 (Coming Soon)

  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 Diesel’s story…

  She calls him “The Beast.”

  Diesel, the MC’s Sergeant at Arms and enforcer, is tasked with not only keeping the club’s property and its members safe, but also taking care of “business” when needed. His motto, “live free, die free,” means he sees most women as nags and clingers and he wants none of that. The last thing he needs is to have one sitting on the back of his bike and trying to dictate his life.

  Unlike the other DAMC women, Jewel wants to be an ol’ lady. Being born and raised within the club, her goal is to earn her place on back of a brother’s bike. But not just anyone’s. No, she had to pick the biggest, most pig-headed and quick-tempered of the bunch. The one she nicknamed “The Beast,” because that’s how he acts both in and out of bed. She’s wanted Diesel for so long she’s not about to give up the fight to become his. She’s bound and determined to win this battle one way or another.

  Diesel fights his desire for Jewel until a rival MC threatens what he realizes is his, and no one gets away with that. No one.

  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.

  Acknowledgments

  I’d like to say thank you to everyone who belongs to my Facebook reader group! My “crew” motivates me to keep writing with their positive words and support.

  I hope you love Diesel as much as we all do.

  You can join us here:

  https://www.facebook.com/groups/JeannesReviewCrew/

  Down & Dirty ’til Dead

  Chapter One

  Diesel groaned and rolled to the left, hitting a soft, naked body. The woman dropped to the floor with a squeal.

  Shit.

  He rolled to the right and hit another soft, naked body. That one fell to the floor with a yelp.

  Fuck.

  He kept rolling and knocked the third one out of his bed, too.

  Jesus fuckin’ Christ.

  His bed at church was way too small for four people. What the fuck had he been thinking?

  Fuck him, he hadn’t.

  A rustle of bodies in the dark, groans, grumblings and typical female bitching rose up.

  “One of you bitches hit the light.”

  The room stilled and got quiet.

  “Now!” he barked.

  He heard scrambling, cursing and squeals from stubbed toes. Then the bare bulb in the broken light fixture over his bed blinded him.

  A few seconds later, he sat up in the middle of his mattress while his gaze bounced from one of Dawg’s new girls to the next. Three in total stood at the end of his bed blinking back at him like a bunch of brainless twats.

  “Don’t fuckin’ just stand there, get dressed an’ get gone.”

  “D...”

  “No lip. Go.”

  The women quickly sorted through the piles of clothes and shoes on the floor, picking up pieces and handing them to their righ
tful owner. Occasionally they would sneak a peek at him and he’d growl back at them.

  “Faster,” he urged in a tone that encouraged no back talk.

  Finally, when they were at least partially dressed, he pushed himself out of bed with a grunt, went to the door, opened it, and yelled, “Out!”

  One by one they filed past him, still zipping, pulling and wiggling parts into place.

  “Call me.”

  “It was fun.”

  “Anytime.”

  Fuck that. He slammed the door shut.

  He fucked up royally by bringing them up to his room. He rarely did that. And he never fell asleep with anyone in his bed, either. Ever.

  They got ideas if you did.

  They were always looking for a way to dig their claws into you and drag your ass down. He’d never let that happen.

  “Live free. Die free,” was his motto right behind the club’s “Down & Dirty ‘til Dead.”

  He lumbered into his bathroom, scratching his balls. He took a piss, which luckily didn’t burn, then checked for crabs.

  He was the first one of the brothers to fuck those bitches, that’s why he picked them. He wouldn’t touch them again. Too risky.

  He left the small bathroom and stepped over his own clothes, which were strewn all over the floor, to grab his cell phone from the nightstand. He pushed the power button to see the time.

  4:33 AM.

  Fuck, no wonder church sounded as quiet as a real church. The party was over. Everyone was passed out, asleep, had died or just simply left.

  He picked up the box of condoms off the top of the scarred nightstand and peered inside.

  Empty.

  He glanced at the floor.

  Damn.

  He needed to get one of the sweet butts up there to pick up all the used condoms and discarded wrappers. She could do his laundry while she was at it. Because he’d let that go a little too long. He had more dirty clothes on the floor than he did clean shit in his dresser.

  He was proud of himself, though. At almost thirty-three years old, he could still bang three women and last for hours. His endurance was legendary.

  Yeah, in his own mind. He grunted.

  Even so, he still had it. But he was getting too old for this shit.

  These nameless, faceless fucks weren’t satisfying him anymore. Yeah, they scratched an itch. But that was it. He saw what Z had with Sophie, Jag with Ivy, and now his brother, Hawk, with Kiki.

  Hell, even what his father, Ace, had with his mother. Thirty-five years of marriage and they were still going strong. And they hadn’t tried to kill each other yet, either.

  What the fuck was he thinking? Was he getting soft like them?

  Hell no.

  Live free. Die free.

  Fuck, it was supposed to be “Live free, ride free.” What-fucking-ever.

  He glanced at his phone again and realized he had a message.

  Shit.

  He hit the voicemail icon and put the phone to his ear. His blood ran cold when Jewel’s voice came through the speaker.

  “D... Fuck! Why aren’t you answering? Damn it! This is the fifth time I’m calling. I need you to come get me. Please.”

  Her voice didn’t sound normal. That was not Jewel’s typical smartass self. No, she sounded like she was in some sort of trouble.

  Again.

  And here she was calling the club’s Sergeant at Arms, the enforcer, who was so busy fucking three cunts that he missed her calls.

  Fuck!

  Nothing had better have happened to her or he’d never forgive himself. He needed to find her and needed to do it now.

  He hit the Send button on his phone and pressed it to his ear. She answered on the first ring.

  “D.” Her voice was breathless and low.

  A prickle ran up his spine. “Where the fuck you at?”

  “In the ‘burgh. Come get me?” She was whispering.

  “Why the fuck you whisperin’? What’s goin’ on?”

  “I just need out of here.”

  “Where?”

  “I’m at a... house.”

  His jaw got tight and a muscle ticked. “With who?”

  “Nobody.”

  Fuckin’ nobody. Bullshit. “This nobody drive your ass there?”

  “Forget it, D... I’ll call my brother.”

  “Address,” he muttered.

  “What?”

  “Fuckin’ address,” he barked louder.

  She gave it to him.

  As he listened, he felt his blood start to boil. She was not in a good section of the city. And she was alone.

  “Gonna beat your ass.”

  “I—”

  He hit End. After finding his jeans, he yanked them up, threw on the nearest T-shirt, shrugged on his cut and tucked his phone into his back pocket. He sat on the edge of the bed after finding a half-decent clean pair of socks that didn’t have any holes in them, tugged them on, then shoved his feet into his boots and zipped them up.

  As he pushed to his feet and scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin, he realized he hadn’t had a chance to wash the pussy off him.

  Too fucking bad. If it bothered her, she could find another way home.

  With a curse, he locked up his room and headed out.

  Jewel paced the dark sidewalk back and forth, pausing to listen carefully every few minutes.

  Nothing.

  It would soon be dawn and she should’ve been out of here a long time ago. In truth, she shouldn’t have come here at all.

  But she had been bored. She didn’t want to go to the party at church last night and Kelsea convinced her the party she was headed to would be fun.

  Little did she know, her club sister had a motive for coming to this party in the city. She’d been hanging with some questionable people lately. And she’d hooked up with a guy that was a DAMC hang-around. Plus, she said with the two of them there, they could keep an ear open for any activity of the Shadow Warriors. Maybe hear where that asshole former prospect Squirrel and his buddy Black Jack were hiding out.

  As Jewel had mingled with a much younger crowd than her, her first clue she shouldn’t have agreed to come was that she suddenly found herself deserted there alone. And most of the party attendees ended up either drunk, high on drugs, or both.

  Not her scene. She gave up that kind of partying years ago. Not that she was old. At twenty-eight she still liked to party. But being at a house in a questionable part of the city with no vehicle, and surrounded by a bunch of wasted twenty-one and -two-year-olds had her really rethinking her choices.

  So, here she was outside a rowhome waiting for Diesel to come “save” her.

  He would be pissed but that was nothing new for the club enforcer. Still, as the club’s Sergeant at Arms, it was his duty to protect and take care of her.

  Or that’s what she wanted to believe. She wasn’t so sure Diesel would agree. Maybe on the protect part. But that’s where he’d insist it ended.

  He was too busy being a walking, talking—no, that wasn’t right—grunting testosterone-filled beast, to worry about taking care of anyone but himself. And by “taking care of” she meant sticking his dick in every conscious vagina he could find.

  Every vagina but hers.

  “Hey, baby.”

  Jewel jumped as a male voice she didn’t recognize drifted her direction. She looked around but couldn’t see anybody or even any movement. The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

  D, hurry up.

  “You out here by yourself? You need a friend?”

  The voice came closer and Jewel’s heart began to race. She squinted, trying to get a bead on who the voice belonged to.

  “No. I’m good. My man’s coming to pick me up.”

  “He stood you up, baby. I’m here for you, though.”

  She patted at her jeans’ pockets hoping a knife or some sort of weapon would magically appear.

  She was going to kill Kelsea.

  “Just so you know,
he’s really jealous. He’ll kick your ass for just talking to me.”

  A shadow moved between two of the cars that were parked along the curb.

  “Is that right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then we should go somewhere he can’t find us.”

  Holy fucking shit!

  Why didn’t she ever take a self-defense course? The only thing she knew how to do was kick a guy in the gonads, scratch his eyes out... or call Diesel.

  Fuck my life.

  She looked down at her fashionable high-heeled boots. She couldn’t run in those things. She could hardly even walk in them. They were strictly for looking good and making her legs look hellishly long.

  Which they did. But that wasn’t going to help her out right now.

  The shadow moved again and Jewel bit back a scream. She couldn’t act afraid, she had to act fearless.

  Right.

  “Whoever you are, get gone!” she yelled, bracing her feet wide apart.

  “Really, baby, you don’t want me to do that. We can have some fun.”

  “Not looking for fun,” she said firmly, hoping she sounded like the tough biker bitch she was.