Down & Dirty: Dawg (Dirty Angels MC Book 7) Read online

  “Fuck yes.” He dropped his head until his lips were just above hers. “Want to push you against a wall while you’re wearin’ one of those sexy fuckin’ dresses an’ take you from behind.”

  “What’s stopping you?”

  With a growl, he grabbed her shoulders, spun her around and shoved her backwards. She stumbled in her heels, losing her balance with a gasp. Her arms reached out, and she caught herself against the nearest wall. He rushed forward, pinned her to it, his mouth against her ear. His now hard dick pressing against the exposed skin above her ass.

  “Gonna do it. Want it?”

  “Yes,” she hissed.

  “Pull your dress up. Show me your ass.”

  Grabbing the fabric of her dress, she shimmied it up her legs over her hips and gathered it around her waist.

  Her ass was perfect globes, ripe for his handprint.

  “Should spank that ass of yours so when you go back out on that floor, I know an’ you know what I’ve left behind. My hand markin’ your ass as mine.”

  She shuddered beneath him, pressing her bare ass against his crotch. “I’ve never...”

  The blood rushed into his ears. “Never what?”

  “Never had that done to me.”

  Dawg’s dick kicked in his jeans. “Never been spanked?”

  “No.”

  “Bad girls like to be spanked. You a bad girl, Emma?”

  He cupped her ass and spread her cheeks apart, thrusting against her. He needed to get his dick out and take her right where she stood.

  “Yes, I did something to piss you off out on the floor, so I must be bad. Maybe you need to show me how bad I was.”

  Her husky, breathless voice, her words made his head spin. She wanted him to spank her.

  What happened to his sweet, girl-next-door Emma?

  Was working in his club corrupting her, changing her?

  He released her abruptly and moved behind his desk. He pulled his chair out and sank down into it. He glanced over at Emma, still frozen where she stood against the wall, her dress pulled up, her face flushed, her eyes unfocused.

  “Get over here.” He patted his thighs. “Across my lap. Gonna give you what you deserve.”

  Without hesitation, she came to him willingly, draping herself over his legs, her ass bare and beautiful, her dress gathered at her waist, her blonde hair falling almost to the floor.

  Her body trembling.

  He slipped a finger over her crease and into her cunt. She was soaked. Her trembling wasn’t from fear. Fuck no, it wasn’t. She wanted everything he was about to do to her.

  He pulled his fingers from her, now slick with her arousal, and dragged them back over her tight little hole. That was going to be his, too. But not now, not here.

  That would take some time, preparation and patience. Right now, he had none of that.

  Instead, he raised his hand and dropped it down hard. His palm cracking against her flesh made her yelp and squirm in his lap, which did not help with how hard his dick was.

  As her skin turned a slight shade of pink, he turned his attention to the other pale cheek. When he smacked that one, he could feel the sting in his own hand, so it had to be worse for her.

  But this time she didn’t yelp. Instead she groaned and ground herself against his hard-on.

  Her fingernails dug into the denim covering his thighs, but she kept her head down, and using her toes, she tilted her ass higher.

  “Again,” she groaned.

  He bit back a grin. “Fuckin’ naughty girl, yeah?”

  “Yes. So bad. I need you to teach me a lesson.”

  He ripped open the top drawer in his desk and found what he was looking for. A ruler that had been shoved deep in the back. He had almost thrown it out after finding it in the used desk when he bought it. But he hadn’t. And he was so glad he never did. He finally had a use for it.

  “Rulers were made for bad little teachers. Weren’t they?”

  She turned her head, brushing the hair out of her eyes. She stiffened when he saw what he was holding.

  “Dawson...”

  He brought the ruler down on her ass. “Name’s Dawg.”

  “Dawson...” she breathed again.

  “Dawg,” he repeated as he struck her other ass cheek. She jerked on his lap.

  “Dawson... please.”

  “Please what? Stop?”

  “No,” she moaned. “Don’t stop.”

  He struck her twice more with the ruler, once on each cheek. Just enough to leave a mark, then he tossed it onto his desk, letting his fingers brush over the slightly raised welts.

  Her ass looked fucking beautiful like that.

  “Get up,” he ordered.

  She scrambled from his lap, her hair wild, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, her face a mask of ecstasy.

  Who knew his baby girl would like it like that?

  His balls were so tight, in such pain, his dick so hard. He couldn’t wait much longer.

  Raising his hips out of the chair, he unfastened his jeans and shoved them down his thighs, just enough so she’d be able to ride his dick.

  Grabbing her wrist, he spun her around and pulled her backwards.

  Then reality hit him and, before he could stop her, she sank down, her wet heat surrounding him. All the oxygen fled his lungs as her tight sheath squeezed him, clenched around him.

  “Nobody gets that but me,” he growled in her ear. “Got me?”

  “Dawson...”

  “Got me?” He needed to hear it.

  “Yes. Got you.”

  He sank his teeth into the smooth flesh at her neck as she rose up and down, crying out every time she sank deep. He reached around her, finding her clit, teasing it, making her grind hard down onto his lap, soaking him.

  Fuck. There was nothing between them. Nothing. It felt so fucking good.

  But it was so wrong.

  He tried to stop his spinning mind. Tried to think responsibly. This wasn’t right.

  It wasn’t right.

  Emma continued to ride him hard and while his thumb played with her slick nub, his fingers found where they were joined. He dug his other hand into her dress, cupping her tit, thumbing the hard bead of her nipple. She arched her back, dropping her head back onto his shoulder, her breath coming out in hot puffs of air.

  Nothing felt as good as when he was inside her. When he became a part of her.

  But he had to pull out before he came. He needed to think straight.

  Which went to shit when she rode him harder, faster, drawing all the blood from his brain down into his dick. She called out his name over and over, her nails digging into the skin of his arms.

  He had to tell her... “Em...”

  He had to stop her... “Em...”

  Then she arched her back even more, reached down and grabbed his balls, calling out, “I’m coming!”

  Ah fuck.

  He shoved his face into her neck and, with a curse, blew his load deep inside her.

  So much for pulling out.

  Why did she have this effect on him? Made his brain turn into fucking mush? Made him lose control?

  “Em...”

  She turned her head, smiled, squeezed his cheeks together and planted a big fat kiss on his lips. Then she pushed to her feet and tugged her dress down, wiggling it back into place. “I’m going to go clean up and get back to work.”

  Then she was gone, and he was left sitting in his office chair with his dick in his hand.

  “Fuck, baby girl,” he muttered to the empty room.

  Fuck!

  Dawg shoved open his bedroom door and was surprised to see what greeted him. Emma laid on her belly on his bed, reading a book. Totally naked.

  His eyes immediately were drawn to her ass. He was pleased to see some marks remained from earlier, but worried he’d been too rough.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes. Why?” she asked distractedly, not pulling her attention from her book.

  “
Thought maybe you were layin’ on your stomach ‘cause your ass hurts.”

  She twisted her head and checked out her own ass. “No. I’m fine.”

  “So you didn’t mind that?”

  A smile crept across her face. “No. I was actually surprised by how much I liked it.”

  Thank fuck.

  He shucked his cut and laid it over the nearby chair in the corner of his room. He sat down, unbuckled his boots and yanked them off. Then he approached the bed, tossing the package he’d carried with him into the room onto the bed next to her.

  Emma picked up the box, her brows furrowed. “What’s this?”

  After Emma had gone back onto the floor earlier, he’d cleaned up and headed out to the nearest drug store to buy emergency contraceptive. “Don’t want to be one of your mistakes.”

  “Is that...” Her words drifted off as she read the box.

  “Gotta take it soon.”

  She frowned and tossed it back toward him. It bounced off the mattress and fell to the floor. “I don’t want it.”

  Dawg leaned over, picked it up and chucked it back on the bed. “Emma, we fucked up.”

  “No. We didn’t.”

  What the fuck? If he needed to take the brunt of the responsibility so she didn’t feel guilty, then he’d do that. “Then I fucked up.”

  She shook her head. “No. You didn’t.”

  “Emma, we didn’t use a wrap.”

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  Did she just roll her eyes at him? “Can’t risk it. Can’t have—”

  She pushed herself up and tucked her legs underneath her to the side. He lost his breath as he studied her sitting there, completely naked, in the middle of his bed. He wondered if he’d ever get used to seeing her like that.

  He hoped not. Because it got his blood boiling every time.

  “Dawson, be rest assured I would never keep you from your child. But you don’t have to worry about that. I’m on the Depo shot.”

  His head jerked back. “The what?”

  “A birth control shot. I get it every three months.”

  “It works?”

  She gave him a small smile. “I sure hope so.”

  A weird mix of emotions clashed in his head. On one hand, he was glad they were covered and there’d be no chance of any accidents. On the other...

  Dawg stared at the woman who looked so right in his bed. He imagined her belly round with his child. One he’d get to know from the second he or she was born. One he’d get to help raise, have a say in everything the kid did. One he’d even get to help name.

  He remembered how everyone had been there when Z’s kid was born. Everyone had celebrated. The whole club wanted a hand in raising the fourth generation of the DAMC.

  Dawg didn’t come from either founding member’s bloodline. But he’d been a part of this club since the minute he could be a prospect at eighteen. He’d become a fully patched member little over a year later. He’d been a member longer than most of the brothers who currently sat on the Executive Committee. Everyone except for Ace.

  So he still was a big part of the DAMC family. Blood or not.

  He might not have been born into the club like Diesel or Hawk, or Dex, Jag or even Zak. But the DAMC still ran deep through his veins.

  It was important to him that this club survived, continued long after the generation before them was gone. He, as well as the rest of the brothers, were determined to not let rival MC’s like the Shadow Warriors snuff out their fire.

  The DAMC had deep roots in Shadow Valley and once he landed here as a wayward teen, he never left. Never planned on leaving. There was nowhere else he’d rather be.

  He’d be Down & Dirty ‘til Dead.

  The club would continue with Zak’s kids, Hawk’s, Jag’s and soon Diesel’s. It helped that women like Ivy and Jewel, even Diamond, were women who were born into the club and were willing to bear the next generation. None of them had reason or a desire to leave.

  Zak and Hawk were lucky to find women who eventually, after a little convincing, blended easily into the club lifestyle.

  But the club life might hinder Emma’s career, might put a kink in her fight for custody of her daughter. And he didn’t want to be the reason for her failure in either of those things.

  “Dawson.”

  He focused on the welcoming hand she had outstretched in his direction.

  “Are you going to just stand there or come to bed?”

  He glanced at the clock. It was almost three AM. “It’s late.”

  “I know; I was waiting up for you.”

  “Didn’t have to.”

  “I wanted to.”

  What had he done right in his life to deserve this woman?

  He finished undressing, throwing his clothes in a pile on the floor then settled on the bed next to her, laying on his belly the same as her. Both of their heads turned toward each other.

  She began to lightly trace his club colors that were tattooed onto his back. “Do all of you have these tattoos?”

  “Yeah, baby girl.”

  “Why?”

  “Easy for someone to steal your colors. Your cut. Harder to take ‘em from you when they’re inked into your skin.”

  “Do you have to do it?”

  “No.”

  “So why do you?”

  “Shows loyalty. To the club, to the brotherhood. To the lifestyle. Prospects ain’t permitted to do it. Not until they’re fully patched. But once you’re fully patched an’ wanna buy out your membership or are forced to leave, you can’t wear your colors.”

  “Your vest?”

  “An’ the tats on your back. Anything to do with the MC.”

  “How do you get rid of that large tattoo if you leave?”

  “Two ways...”

  “Which are?” she prodded.

  “Removin’ ‘em or coverin’ ‘em up.”

  She winced. “Ouch.”

  “Yeah. Ain’t pleasant either way. Coverin’ ‘em up is the better way, if you get to choose.”

  “Would you ever leave?”

  “Why you askin’?”

  She lifted a shoulder in a half-assed shrug. “Just curious.”

  “No. This is my family. Never leavin’.”

  “What about your real family?”

  “The DAMC is my real family, baby girl.”

  “I meant your blood relatives. Father? Mother?”

  Blood wasn’t always family. Family wasn’t always blood. That was something he discovered from very young.

  “Father was a drunk, took off with some bitch when I was five. Mother found a new man, also a fuckin’ drunk, who thought I was his competition. Been on my own for a long time.”

  “How long?”

  Why did she need to know this shit? This wasn’t a conversation he liked to have. “Long time, baby girl.”

  “How long?” she asked again. She wasn’t going to let it go until he answered. She had a little stubborn streak. And a head full of endless questions.

  Dawg blew out a breath. “Since I was thirteen.”

  She pushed up to her elbows and started down at him. “Thirteen?”

  “Bounced ‘round for a while. A couple aunts. An uncle. A distant cousin. They all got the shits of me an’ put me out. Ran across a biker one day from an outlaw club, he bought me a beer even though I was sixteen. Talked up his club, the lifestyle. When I heard all that, I knew what I wanted. Ended up at his place.”

  “So he was nice enough to take you in?”

  Dawg closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. That biker had an ol’ lady that he hadn’t touched in ages since he was too busy sticking his dick in any snatch that had a pulse. So his ol’ lady had turned her eyes on Dawg. At first, losing his virginity to an older, more experienced woman seemed like a bonus. Until it wasn’t.

  To remain living with them, he had to service her just about every night like a fucking stud dog. Her ol’ man encouraged it, since it got her nagging ass off his b
ack. But after a while, Dawg couldn’t get it up because there was nothing about her that he found attractive and he ended up back on the street after being beaten to within an inch of his life by the biker himself. He still had a small scar from a cut on his temple made from a large ring while being backhanded.

  He drifted from there. During his seventeenth year, he landed in one bed after another just to keep a roof over his head and food in his gut. But he kept moving.

  Until the day he stumbled into Shadow Valley and ran into a club hang-around the same age as him named Crow, who didn’t look like he would fit into a typical MC, who also introduced him to Ace, Pierce, and Grizz. Then the second he turned eighteen, they handed him his prospect patches, assigned him a room above church, and put him to work. And his life got better from there.

  The only other hiccup was finding out last year that he had a daughter named Caitlin.

  Other than that, life was good. He studied the woman who could make his life even better if she gave him a shot.

  “Gotta confess somethin’, baby girl.”

  “What?”

  “You’re a teacher, so it might make you look at me differently.”

  Her blue eyes studied him. “Tell me. It can’t be that bad.”

  “Don’t got my high school diploma.”

  She shrugged and continued to mindlessly trace the tattoos on his back. “A GED is just as good.”

  The motion was soothing, and he could lay there all night, enjoying her soft touch. “Don’t got that either.”

  Her fingers stilled. “You didn’t finish school at all?”

  He didn’t know why he felt the need to confess all his secrets to her. Things that no one else knew and might never know. Not even his club brothers. “Nope.”

  “How far did you get?”

  “Em... got kicked out of the house at thirteen,” he reminded her.

  “Thirteen,” she repeated in a whisper, then her eyes widened. “Oh my God.”

  “Right. Ain’t even a high school dropout.”

  She lifted her head and stared at him. “But you run a successful business.”

  “Which consists of naked women dancin’ on a pole.”

  “But you have the smarts to run it well, keep it profitable.”

  “Didn’t say I was dumb, just a dropout.”

  “Baby,” she whispered, running her fingers through his beard.