Down & Dirty: Dex (Dirty Angels MC Book 8) Page 3
With not even a twitch of a reaction to his words, Brooke pushed away from the bar. “Okay, let’s go.”
Dex placed the bottle on the bar and stared at Brooke in shock. He picked his jaw up from the floor. “Let’s go? To my room?”
Brooke’s grey-blue eyes widened. “No! To the other side of the building like you said. To talk.”
Ah, fuck. She got his blood boiling there for a second. “Yeah, right. That’s what I meant.”
“Lead the way.”
Oh fuck no. She needed to lead the way so he could appreciate everything about her. But... damn, she had no idea where she was going. He sighed and held out his hand.
She stared at it. “What’s that?”
“My fuckin’ hand.”
“What do I want that for?”
“So you don’t get lost.”
Her eyebrows knitted together. “I need to hold your hand so I won’t get lost? Is it far? Through a maze? I mean, you think I could be lost forever as we walk through one building?”
Dex’s lips flattened in annoyance as he shook his hand. “Just take it.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that.”
He frowned. “What doesn’t?”
“You telling me what to do and I do it.”
Dex heard a loud snort and noticed Hawk leaning against the bar, thick arms crossed over his chest as he watched the two of them. “This is gonna be good.”
“Fuck,” Dex muttered under his breath and dropped his hand. “Whatever. Let’s fuckin’ go.” He turned on his heels and headed toward the kitchen, hoping she was right behind him. He refused to turn around and check.
Though he wanted to.
He pushed through the double doors and held one open for her. And, yeah, she had followed him. He bit back his grin as she passed by. He fought the urge to lean in and smell her hair. He had a feeling he might end up sporting a black eye if he did.
And the whole bar would see her sucker punch him. Something he’d never live down.
He released the swinging door, then placed a hand on the small of her back to guide her through the kitchen. Surprisingly, she didn’t bitch. When they got to the swinging doors that lead into church, he held the door open for her again.
This time when she passed by, she paused and turned her head to hold his gaze. “That’s how a man should treat a woman. Not be demanding or crude by undressing her with his eyes.” With that, she walked into church.
His eyes dropped to her ass. Fuck. Those cheeks in those jeans...
She glanced over her shoulder and he quickly raised his gaze, pretending he didn’t just appreciate her ass.
But it was hard not to appreciate it.
Fuck, and now he was hard, too.
She stopped a few steps into the club side of the building and Dex realized why. Church wasn’t as busy as The Iron Horse, but there were way too many people hanging out, drinking and shooting pool for his liking.
They needed to go somewhere more private. He doubted she’d agree.
She wrinkled her nose. “This is your so-called church?”
For fuck’s sake, she acted like she walked into a meth-den or something.
“Yeah.” He pushed past her and moved behind the private club bar. He did a chin lift to Grizz who sat at the one end in his regular spot, nursing his endless beer.
Dex grabbed a bottle of Jack off the shelf behind the bar and found two clean shot glasses.
“Do you mind getting me a bigger glass with some soda in it? I normally don’t drink whiskey straight.”
Dex eyeballed her for a moment. Then his gaze swept the common area of church and noticed—once again—that his eyes weren’t the only ones checking Brooke out.
He really needed his own place.
Diesel and Jewel needed to move out of the apartment over the pawn shop and find a bigger place, before Jewel popped out D’s kid. Which was probably going to happen soon. A one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment wasn’t ideal to raise a family.
But he really thought D was still in denial when it came to the fact that he was going to be an actual father. With an actual kid. One that wore diapers and cried and shit. However, if they moved out of the apartment and bought a house, reality was going to hit him like a two-by-four. Like that positive pee stick did.
Dex grinned when he remembered how D passed out at the news that Jewelee was pregnant. His big, badass cousin had hit the ground hard.
Unlike Hawk, who was happy when his ol’ lady got knocked up.
Dex was fine with letting his club brothers continue to pop out kids, because he wasn’t ready for that himself any time soon.
Though, if the woman in front of him right now got on her knees and begged for his baby, he might be willing to give it a shot.
Damn, that woman had rattled his brain.
He poured some Jack into the bottom of a tall glass and topped it off with the soda gun as Brooke settled on a stool at the bar, glancing around the common area.
“Is your clubhouse always this busy?”
“No. Depends on the night. Depends on if there’s a party or not.”
“Is there a party?”
“Nope. If the weather holds, goin’ for a run on Sunday. Pig roast after that.”
Her brows knitted together. “A run?”
“A group ride,” he clarified. He hoped the mild early December weather held, because it was most likely the last run of the year. Once winter hit, not too many of the brothers rode their sleds. And they certainly didn’t take them out on long runs.
“Ah. On your Harleys.”
“Yeah, our sleds.”
“Right. Sleds.” She accepted the glass of Jack and Coke and took a sip. “Will everyone be there?”
“Probably most of us.” Anyone who wasn’t afraid of a little cold weather.
“How does one get invited to go along on a run?”
“Why?” His eyes narrowed because of her question, but then his gaze dropped when her cleavage bounced as she shrugged.
“Just curious.”
“You wanna check everyone out.”
She cleared her throat, drawing his attention back up to her face, framed with her reddish blonde hair, and those grey-blue eyes. “Yeah, maybe. Could be a good way to figure out if my father is still in your club.”
“Why you determined to meet him?”
“Wouldn’t you be curious if you just found out your father wasn’t really your father?”
“Actually would be fuckin’ happy if he ain’t.”
“Why’s that?”
“Fucker took off leavin’ my mom with three small kids an’ no money. Cleaned out their account, got on his sled, never to be seen again.”
Those amazing eyes of hers widened. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he breathed.
“You never talked to your father again?”
“Never talked to him ever. Was too young to have a fuckin’ conversation with ‘im before he split.”
“So you’re in the same boat as I am.”
“Fuck no. Know his name. Ain’t lookin’ for his deadbeat ass.”
“Like you don’t have members in this club who aren’t deadbeat dads.”
Dex’s head jerked back at that. “Fuck no. The DAMC’s a family. Family’s fuckin’ important. Blood or not. Got me?”
“But your dad—”
Dex cut her off. “He split.”
“Right, but—”
“He fuckin’ split. ‘Nough said. Ain’t nothin’ thicker than DAMC blood. Nothin’.”
“So if my father’s still in this club and he knew about me...”
“Don’t think he is.”
“Are you sure?”
“Most of us ain’t old enough to be your pop. Already had this discussion. Grizz an’ Ace ain’t it. Doc an’ Rocky’s been in prison longer than you’ve been alive. The only one left who...”
No. No fucking way.
“The only one left who... what?”
&
nbsp; He wasn’t even going to say it out loud, because it couldn’t be him. “Nothin’. Thinkin’ your pop’s long gone. That’s all. Or you’re wrong an’ your blood father ain’t an Angel.”
“I don’t think I’m wrong.”
“How do you know for sure?”
“Because of what I found under some old newspaper clippings that had to do with your club.”
“Which was?”
She hesitated a moment. Then after another long sip of her drink, she said, “Her diary.”
“Yeah? An’ it didn’t mention a name?”
She shook her head, her long hair brushing along the skin of her exposed collarbones. Skin he wanted to sink his teeth into as he was nailing her to a mattress.
“No. No name. I think there was a reason for it.”
“Why’s that?”
She took another sip of her Jack and Coke, avoiding his gaze. “I’m not ready to discuss details of my mother’s diary.”
“But you want info from me,” Dex stated with a frown.
“Yes. And some of your other club ‘brothers,’” she admitted.
Right. “Don’t work like that.”
She placed her glass on the bar. “Why not?”
“’Cause we don’t just spill shit to anyone who asks.”
“I’m not just anyone.”
“So you say. Don’t know that for sure.”
She turned slightly on her stool and surveyed the common room once more. “Maybe I just need to hang out with your club for a bit and get to know some of you better. Seems like you all don’t mind women hanging around.”
Dex glanced over at the sweet butts who were hanging all over Crash and Rig as they played pool. His eyes slid over to Tequila grinding her crotch against Rooster as they danced to some music being piped through the speakers from The Iron Horse. She was doing something she shouldn’t, like normal. Rooster knew better, too. Prospects couldn’t do sweet butts since they were off limits.
But right now, he didn’t give a fuck. It didn’t matter to him since he wouldn’t touch Tequila with a ten-foot dick. He had a feeling she did anyone in the club, prospects and hang-arounds alike. If Hawk, Z or Diesel caught her, her ass would be outside looking in.
“Ain’t one of those,” he muttered, then downed his whiskey in one swallow.
“What does that mean?”
“You ain’t one of those,” he clarified.
“One of what?”
He lifted his chin toward the pool tables. “Those.”
“Those women?”
“Yeah.”
“Why’s that?”
“You just ain’t.”
“Are they sweet butts?”
He kept his expression blank, but he was surprised she knew the term. “How do you know about ‘em?”
“Read it on the internet. Is it true? Do they just hang around and fuck any of your club members who want them?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you do any of them?”
Dex glanced over at Destiny and Roxy. He grimaced. Yeah, he had done them. In fact, one night he did both at the same time. “Nope.”
“You’re such a liar,” she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief.
Sure was, because he wasn’t fucking stupid. He wanted the woman who sat at the bar, not the ones hanging off Crash and Rig. He would be a fool to admit he’d done those sweet butts when they were standing not far from them. Right in Brooke’s view. So, fuck no, he wasn’t admitting to shit.
All that was in the past, anyway. His future sat right in front of him. Or at least his “future” which meant maybe tonight and the next few nights. If he was lucky.
Beyond that? Fuck no. He wasn’t looking for anything permanent. And he doubted Brooke wanted to become anyone’s ol’ lady. Or even a biker’s regular piece.
But right now, he was shooting high and hoping to hit the target.
“So, can I come along on this run Sunday?”
“The only bi... women who come along on our runs hafta earn a spot.”
She paused with her glass halfway to her lips. “What do I have to do to earn a spot?”
“More like who.”
She put her glass down on the bar without taking a drink. “You want me to sleep with you so I can go on a motorcycle ride? You’re fucking out of your mind.”
“Like I said, that spot has to be earned. Gotta be a regular piece or an ol’ lady. Three ways to get there.”
“I don’t think I want it that badly.”
Dex shrugged and poured himself another double. He tossed it back and slammed the shot glass on the bar. “Suit yourself. But everyone’s gonna be there.”
“You said there’s three ways to get there but only mentioned two.”
That he did. The third was an invite. Normally, just inviting some bitch to come along on the back of your sled was frowned upon. The runs weren’t for the women. They were for the brothers. Any woman who wasn’t a regular piece or an ol’ lady could wait back at church, or wherever they wanted to sit their ass down, until the run was over and the pig roast started.
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to share the last way?”
“Nope.”
She lifted a shoulder. “So I’ll come to the pig roast afterward.”
“Gotta be invited to that.”
“I already have my invite.”
He cocked a brow. “How’s that?”
“You invited me.”
Dex shook his head. “The fuck I did.”
“I heard it.”
“Need your ears cleaned out.”
“You asked. I accepted.”
Goddamn, this woman. “Now you’re lyin’.”
She gave him a big smile and tipped her head toward the pool table where Destiny and Roxy were. “Just like you did about fucking those women.”
He shrugged. “Just snatch.”
Suddenly, Brooke’s face changed from friendly and joking to dead serious. She slipped off the stool and grabbed her purse, which was sitting next to her drink.
“And you’re just a dick.”
Dex blinked. Then his feet felt like they were in quicksand as she marched back through the double doors of the kitchen, slamming them open with her palms.
“Fuck,” he muttered, then finally found he could move. He rushed after her and caught up as she slammed through the second set of swinging doors into The Iron Horse.
He didn’t bother to check to see if they were being watched or if they had an audience. Or if he looked like a fucking fool. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the front entrance of the bar.
She jerked her arm, but he didn’t release her. “Let me go.”
“No.”
“I don’t need you to walk me out.”
“Ain’t walkin’ you out.”
She jerked her wrist again, but he just tightened his grip. “Then what the hell are you doing?”
He pulled her outside into the dark, cold night, slamming the door behind them, then hesitated. “Which is your car?”
“Let. Me. Go.”
“Fuckin’ answer me. Which is your fuckin’ car?”
“If you let me go, I’ll show you.” She jerked her arm one more time.
He released her wrist and raised his palms up. “Show me.”
She hurried through the dark parking lot. Since the lot was full, she had to park at the very edge along a line of shrubs. She was digging in her purse at the same time taking lengthy strides with those mile-long legs of hers.
But he had no problem keeping up. She was tall but he was still taller than her. Still had more weight behind him. And he was a fucking man, goddamnit.
She stopped at a four-door BMW and hit her remote. It was too dark to tell the color but the lights flashed as the car unlocked. He snagged the remote from her hand before she could get around to the driver’s side.
“Hey!”
He hit the unlock button again on the remote and heard the locks release on the res
t of the doors. He yanked open the back door and pointed. “Get in.”
Even in the dark, he could see her eyes widen.
“What? No.”
“Get the fuck in.”
“You have this misconception that you can give an order and I’ll listen.”
“Yeah.”
Her head jerked up higher as she stared at him. “Yeah?” He watched as she took a visible breath and her spine straighten. She pointed into the back of the car. “Get the fuck in the car.”
What? She was giving him orders?
“You want to play this game? This let’s-see-who’s-more-dominant game? I can play it.” She leaned in close. So close he could feel her warm breath across his lips. “I fucking eat that shit for breakfast. Now... Get. The. Fuck. In. The. Car.”
Dex’s heartbeat thumped heavily in his chest. What the fuck was going on here? He should be worried that this woman was crazy, and could shank him. Maybe she was going to do just that. Get him in the back of the car, tear his heart out with her bare hands, and drive away to go dump his body in some far away field.
She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her booted foot.
Fuck. His dick was rock hard thinking about her dominating him. Making him submit. “You gonna fuck me?”
“Get. In. The. Back. Seat.”
She didn’t say no. Fuck yeah.
The forcefulness of her tone, the hard look in her eyes from what he could see in the limited light...
All that shit turned him the fuck on.
He shrugged out of his cut, since he couldn’t wear it in the cage he was about to climb into. He leaned in and laid it carefully over the back of the driver’s seat.
Then he climbed in, wondering if he was making a big mistake.
But, hell, he might be getting laid. And he needed to bust a nut. Like soon. So if he was going to die? He was going to die a depleted, satisfied motherfucker.
Or he hoped that was the case.
He slid over to the middle of the back seat, leaving her room to follow. And, fuck him, if she didn’t.
She threw her jacket onto the front seat, climbed in after him, then slammed the door shut behind her and put out her hand. “Remote.”
He dropped it into her open palm and she hit a button that started the car and started blowing warm air.
Good idea since it was almost winter and he didn’t want any shrinkage.