Down & Dirty_Slade Page 4
Jag’s eyes were glued to the screen as he yelled, “Fuck my sister! See what they’re doin’ to my woman?”
Slade’s gaze swung back to the monitor and he found Ivy, her long red hair twisted up in a dancer’s fist as he tugged her head back and shoved his face into her neck.
Oh fuck.
The worst part was Jag’s ol’ lady wasn’t pushing the guy away. Hell no, she kept waving a dollar bill around, encouraging the man.
The only one that had a lick of sense was Bella as she sat outside the circle just watching, but she was laughing at the chaos going on inside The Iron Horse.
Complete utter chaos.
“Fuckin’ stoppin’ this shit,” D barked, pulling out of the huddle.
“No,” Crow shouted, making everyone freeze. “Don’t do it. Told ‘em you were stayin’ out. Was the deal.”
D’s head swung his direction. “Ain’t gotta woman over there, brother. Don’t got much say.”
“The fuck I don’t. That was the deal, remember? They stay here, they don’t get bothered by any of us.”
“No one said dick ‘bout touchin’,” D bellowed, his eyes a bit wild.
“Also didn’t tell ‘em about the cameras. Want ‘em to find that out right ‘bout now? Think any of you gonna get to enjoy the spoils of this night after,” Crow lifted his chin toward the monitor, “those guys get ‘em all horned up? You go bustin’ in over there, you guys ain’t gettin’ shit but a cold shoulder tonight. Think ‘bout that. Let ‘em have their fun an’ they’ll all be climbin’ onto your dicks tonight an’ ridin’ you hard.”
Slade’s eyebrows raised. That might be the most words he ever heard Crow say at one time.
He turned back to the monitor. Problem was, the rest of the men crowding the monitor would get to enjoy their women all horned up tonight.
Unlike him. He wasn’t getting shit except annoyed.
He ground his teeth as he watched Diamond get pulled from her chair and sandwiched between two dancers. One was dry humping her while the other smacked her ass.
Even though there was no sound with the camera feed, it wasn’t hard to figure out that the fucking bitch was laughing her ass off. Her head was thrown back and she was now grinding against the dancer who was pinned to her front.
His nostrils flared, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
She said she was going to get laid for her birthday. She clearly stated it would be by one or possibly more of those dancers. And by the way she was acting with two of them, she had found her targets.
“Suggest you turn that shit off before you all fuckin’ blow a head gasket,” Grizz growled from the end of the bar.
Hawk shot a look in the old man’s direction. “Don’t wanna see how your ol’ lady’s actin’?”
Grizz tugged on his long, grey, scraggly beard and his eyes crinkled deeply at the corners. “Fuck no. Don’t give a shit. Just know I’m gettin’ laid tonight an’ it’s been a long fuckin’ time. She can do whatever the fuck she wants as long as she ends up with my dick between her legs.”
Crow snorted, lifting his glass of whiskey. “See? Man’s got the right idea. Shut that thing off an’ let ‘em be.”
“Anyone touches that monitor, I’ll break your fuckin’ fingers,” D growled. “Need to know how many lessons my woman’s gettin’ tonight.”
Jag barked out a laugh and moved away from the show, shaking his head. “Can’t watch anymore. Better be right, old man. Ivy better be spinnin’ on my dick like a pole dancer later.”
Grizz waved a dismissing hand toward Jag and grunted.
D glanced down at Slade. “What the fuck you standin’ here for? Thought you gave up the chase on that snatch.”
“Wasn’t chasin’ nothin’,” Slade grumbled.
“Coulda fooled me,” D said, his eyes going back to the monitor. He leaned forward, squinted then stumbled back a step. “Oh, fuck no.”
D spun on his heel and Hawk grabbed his arm, shaking his head. “No, brother, Grizz an’ Crow are right. Promised them. Let ‘em go.”
D swung a meaty paw toward the monitor. “Your fuckin’ woman’s got her face shoved in a man’s junk.”
Hawk took a visible breath and closed his eyes for a second. “Yep. Saw it. Gonna forget it. Also gonna make ‘er pay for it later.”
D surprised everyone by grinning, something the man hardly ever did. “Yeah.”
Hawk gave him a chin lift and a grunted “yeah” back. Then he grabbed the Jack and poured them both a double shot.
When he was done, Slade grabbed the bottle from him, put it to his lips and let the liquor slide down his throat.
Z snorted. “Looks like someone ain’t done with the chase.”
Slade finished off the remainder of whiskey, hissed out the burn, and swiped his hand over his mouth. “Just commiseratin’ with you all.”
Z snorted again. “Right.”
Slade shoved himself away from the monitor and moved down the bar to where he couldn’t see it anymore. He needed to leave. He needed to get the fuck out of there. He couldn’t watch anymore and couldn’t stand to hear the music thumping.
He closed his eyes and all he could picture was Diamond naked in a bed, sandwiched between those two guys as they were sucking and fucking her.
He ground his back molars and then slammed his hand on the bar.
When he opened his eyes, he saw everyone was staring at him. Some more amused than others.
He wasn’t finding any of this funny.
Jag sat on the stool next to him. “Know she’s my sister, but she can be a fuckin’ bitch.”
“Know it.”
“Long as you know it an’ are prepared to deal with it.”
“Ain’t havin’ to deal with shit.”
“Right,” Jag murmured, running a hand over his jaw. “Got it bad, brother.”
“Bullshit,” Slade spat.
“Recognize it ‘cause I had it bad, too. Fuckin’ Ivy jerked me ‘round for years.”
Slade turned his head to study Diamond’s brother. He was surprised to hear Jag admit that since Ivy and Jag seemed like they were made for each other. Any time they were near each other they were always touching in one way or another.
Jag downed another shot of whiskey. He placed the glass on the bar with care as if he was doing his best not to smash it. “Watched her fuckin’ all kinds of geeks an’ nerds. Drove me to the point of doin’ stupid shit.”
“Like what?”
“Like fuckin’ Goldie on one of those couches,” he tilted his head toward a worn, old couch along one of the walls in the common room, “during a party. Everybody watchin’, includin’ her. Was draggin’ around one of her nerds that night an’ I lost my shit.”
“Who’s Goldie?”
“Used to be one of Dawg’s girls. Let’s just say she made ‘er rounds... a few times.”
Slade grimaced and thought about the stripper whose bed he woke up in a few mornings prior. One that happened to remind him of Diamond when he crossed his eyes and squinted. Or drank a whole lot of liquor. Which he’d been doing too much lately.
“Gonna take on a woman who can flip the bitch switch in an instant, gotta be willin’ to deal with the challenge an’ the claws.”
Slade stared at the empty Jack bottle sitting in front of him.
Jag wasn’t done yet. “But you tame ‘er, might be worth it.”
“Talkin’ ‘bout your sister,” Slade said with a frown.
Jag nodded. “Know it. Just tryin’ to give a brother some advice.”
“None needed,” he muttered.
The man next to him snorted. “Keep tellin’ yourself that.” Jag shouted down the bar, “Hawk, get us a fresh bottle. This brother needs a fuckin’ drink.”
That was one thing Slade could agree with.
Chapter Four
Slade leaned back against one of the counters in the commercial kitchen between the private side and public side of the building and waited. With both his arms and ankles c
rossed, he was trying to appear a lot fucking calmer than he actually was.
The Jack Daniels had helped smooth out the edge a little, but not enough.
If that fucking woman thought she was going to get laid by a couple of strippers, she had another thing coming.
That was for damn sure.
Most of the women had already split, heading home with their still agitated men. Even some of the dancers had come into the kitchen to get dressed before heading out, most of them eyeballing him and even a couple of them giving him some chin lifts.
Not that he returned them.
Fuck no, he didn’t.
“Cool tats, bro,” one of them even said.
Cool tats, bro.
Slade grunted and kept his eyes pinned to the swinging double doors that lead out to The Iron Horse.
He didn’t know what was taking the woman so long. She’d better not be getting fucked in the middle of the bar. He was tempted to peer through the scratched, plastic windows of the doors, but he forced himself to remain in place.
His chest was tight, his blood pressure sky-high, and his imagination was starting to spin out of control.
“Wants to get laid for her fuckin’ birthday,” he mumbled.
“What?” one of the dancers asked as he passed Slade, carrying a large duffle bag. Slade couldn’t imagine why the man needed one that big since they hardly wore anything when they were thrusting their dicks into the women’s faces. And they call that dancing.
“Fuck off,” he growled at the guy, whose eyes widened as he rushed out of the kitchen.
Then, just who he was waiting for pushed through the doors.
Not with one dancer, fuck no. With two. The two he saw dry humping and spanking her.
“I’m parked out back. We can go back to my place...” Her voice drifted off and the big smile she was wearing dropped quickly once she spotted him.
Slade glared at the two men flanking her. “Get your shit an’ get gone,” he growled.
Diamond put her hand out and stopped them both from moving away. “Nope. Don’t got a say in this, Slade.” She plastered a smile on her face and said, “Robby and Bobby are coming home with me.”
Robby and Bobby? Was she shitting him?
He pushed off the counter and dropped his fists to his sides. “Get your shit an’ get gone,” he said slowly so the Bobby twins didn’t misunderstand him.
Diamond’s mouth gaped as both dancers bolted from her side, grabbed their bags and pushed back past her still only wearing their G-strings.
Within seconds they were gone.
“What. The. Fuck!” Diamond screeched.
Slade grabbed her upper arm and dragged her through the doors that led into church.
“What are you doing?” she screeched some more, digging in her heels and pulling back.
Slade was glad to see that the common room was empty, and no one was about to witness him losing his fucking mind.
“Want to get fucked for your birthday? That what you want?” he tossed over his shoulder as he pressed forward, still dragging her along behind him.
She stumbled, caught herself and then jerked backwards. But he was not releasing her. No fucking way.
“Yeah. But not by you.”
“Bullshit,” he growled as he closed in on the stairs.
“You like easy. I’m a ballbuster, remember?”
“Don’t always like it easy, princess, sometimes I like a little fight in my fuck.” He got to the bottom of the steps and stopped, his breath ragged, more from anger than from exertion.
For some reason she was panting, too.
He tightened his fingers around her bicep and her bright blue eyes turned dark. “What are you going to do?” she breathed.
“What I should’ve done a long time ago,” he muttered to himself more than her. “Allowed you to get under my skin an’ work your way ‘round like a fucking flesh-eating virus. Gotta get you outta my system.”
“What?” she whispered. “I’m not going upstairs with you. Especially since you think I’m a flesh-eating virus!” Her whisper ended in a shout and he winced.
“Ain’t D, can’t carry your ass upstairs. But we’re doing this, princess. Givin’ you your birthday wish an’ I’m gettin’ you out from under my skin.”
“Well, that’s sounds like a pleasant fucking time!”
He met her fiery gaze, his jaw tight. “Gonna keep screechin’ at me like a harpy?”
“A what?”
“A fuckin’ harpy!” he shouted. He’d had enough of this shit. He swore a vessel in his forehead was about to pop. He leaned in close, so close that when he breathed, he inhaled her: her scent, her warm, sweet, alcohol-tinged breath, her wrath. “Listen. Gonna fuck you good. Gonna make you come. Gonna give you what you want for your fuckin’ birthday. Then we’re done. Got me?”
She raised a brow at him. “Only once?”
He jerked his head back. “Only once what?”
“Only going to make me come once? Is that all you’re good for?”
He pinned his lips together and released her. He stared at his boots, shaking his head, until the urge to strangle her passed. “Won’t know ‘til you get your fuckin’ ass upstairs.”
She cocked her head and planted her hands on her hips. “Is that right?”
“Woman,” was all he could manage.
Then out of nowhere, she smiled and started hiking herself up the stairs.
He blew out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and watched as her ass swung back and forth with each step.
“Holy fuck,” he muttered under his breath, and followed her up, wondering how much of a mistake this was.
As they hit the top landing, she glanced at him and he lifted his chin in the direction she needed to go. He watched in shock as she headed toward his room down the hall.
He took his time following her because he was waiting for her to turn and try to bolt past him. But, fuck him, she didn’t. She kept moving even though she had no idea which room was his.
He heard a noise behind him and a low voice exclaiming, “Oh, brother, good luck with that,” then a door slammed shut and locked.
He wouldn’t be surprised if everyone was battening down the hatches with the hurricane named Diamond moving down the hallway.
“Hold up,” he called out and pulled his room key from his pocket. She stopped, turned and moved back toward him. He unlocked his door and pushed it open and as she stepped past him inside, he leaned in and hit the overhead light.
“Jesus,” she muttered, wrinkling up her nose. “This is a shit hole.”
He looked around his small room. Wasn’t the Ritz, but everything had a place and was in it neatly. He wasn’t one of the brothers who had dirty laundry tossed all over the floor or mold growing in their bathroom. Fuck no. It was organized and clean.
“It’s clean. I’m clean an’ you better be clean.”
Her blue eyes slid to him in surprise. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Means I make sure to wrap it tight. Hopefully, all the dick in you’s been wrapped tight, too.”
“Damn, Slade, you make a girl feel warm all over,” she murmured.
“Ain’t no girl,” he muttered.
“What?”
“Ain’t no girl,” he repeated louder. “Just turned thirty. Far from a girl.”
She tilted her head to study him. “Well, that’s true enough.”
He moved to the bed, sat on the edge and began to unlace his boots. When they were loose, he pulled them off, as well as his socks, which he tucked inside, then set his boots out of the way. He pushed to his feet, slid his cut off and carefully laid it over the back of the chair in the corner. When he turned, Diamond was still in the center of his room but watching him intently.
“Gonna get naked?”
“Still deciding,” she answered, her lips curling at the corners. “You’ve been pretty much a dick lately and I’m not sure you deserve to get what I could give you.”
He snorted and yanked his long-sleeved thermal over his head. He heard her sharp intake of breath and finished pulling the shirt off before neatly folding it and placing it on the seat of the chair.
He cocked a brow in her direction. “Problem?”
She shook her head, her eyes heated as her gaze raked over his torso. Her eyes continued to follow his hands as he moved to his belt. “Ain’t one of those strippers. We’re both getting’ naked here, princess.”
No. No, he wasn’t one of those strippers. He was so much better. Di sucked in a ragged breath as her gaze explored Slade’s chest. Both of his arms were solid tattoo sleeves and his ink continued over his upper chest and up his neck, stopping only under his jaw. His muscles were well-defined, and his dog tags hung between his drool-worthy pecs. He had a line of dark hair that started at his navel and disappeared into his worn jeans that she was dying to follow with her tongue.
She watched him jerk at the belt he had unfastened, slipping it from the loops, pop open the top button of his jeans and slowly slide the zipper down. Like slower than normal.
Her gaze rose at that deliberate slowness and when she met his dark brown eyes, he smiled.
“Likin’ what your seein’,” he stated, sure of himself, his voice low and grumbly.
Di shivered, her nipples peaking hard under her shirt.
Jesus, she wanted to see this man naked last summer when he first showed up and thought she was going to until he pushed her away unexpectedly.
They had made out a few times on a couple of the club runs but it never went farther than that. But now...
Now, holy shit...
She wiped the saliva from the corner of her mouth as he pushed his jeans over his hips and down his legs. He kicked them off and when he straightened her eyes fell to his cock, which was standing straight out from his body.
She was about to start singing “Happy Birthday” to herself.
She couldn’t pull her eyes away when he grabbed his hard-on and stroked it a couple times.
“Still waitin’,” he grumbled, snapping her into action.
She sank onto his bed and pulled off her high-heeled boots, throwing them across the small room. His eyes followed them as they smacked into the wall. He frowned as she tugged off her socks and threw them the same direction.