Down & Dirty: Slade
Welcome to Shadow Valley where the Dirty Angels MC rules. Get ready to get Down & Dirty because this is Slade’s story…
He thought he liked easy. Until she showed him easy was boring.
Right out of the Marines, Slade’s first mistake was patching into a club that was headed down a destructive path. His second was rolling into Shadow Valley on a search for answers. He had no plans to patch into another club, even one like the DAMC, and he certainly wasn’t looking for an ol’ lady. Especially a ball-buster like Diamond, who could singe the hair off a brother’s nuts with just a look.
DAMC born and bred, Diamond was ready to give up on becoming an ol’ lady until the heavily tattooed biker rolled into town on his Harley. Problem is, months later Slade’s still a mystery. He never talks about himself or his past, and Diamond wants answers. But she's not quite ready for what’s uncovered: secrets that could very well implode the club. It doesn’t just bring Slade’s loyalty into question, but forces Diamond to make a choice she doesn’t want to make. A choice that affects not only Slade, but the whole MC.
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.
Release date: July 8, 2018
Publisher: Double-J Romance, Inc.
Print pages: 250
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Listen to a sample
Down & Dirty: Slade
Jeanne St. James
“C’mon, brother, wake the fuck up.”
Slade groaned as the annoying voice disturbed his peaceful rest.
“Slade. C’mon, brother. You gotta get the fuck outta here.”
For some reason, the disturbance sounded a lot like Dawg. Why the fuck would the strip-club manager be giving him an unwelcome wake-up call?
Slade popped one eye open.
Probably because he had passed out at Heaven’s Angels Gentlemen’s club. Again.
That wasn’t a pillow under his head. Nope. It was a stripper’s lap.
He tipped his eyes upward. Not surprised at all, she was passed out, too. Her head rested against the back of the red velour love seat, her neck bent cockeyed and her mouth wide open.
She didn’t look so hot right now.
But then, he probably didn’t look much better.
With a groan, he lifted his head off her fishnet-stockinged thighs. Hopefully, she didn’t mind the little bit of drool that had escaped his gaping mouth during his snooze-fest.
He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and groaned.
“Seriously, brother, you gotta get the fuck outta here. Wanna lock up. Take ‘er with ya, if you gotta. But just get gone.”
He blinked. His brain felt like a whole lot of cotton had been shoved between his ears.
He sucked in a deep breath, then grimaced.
Fuck. He wouldn’t be eating that snatch any time soon.
Fuck him. That was deadly.
He pushed himself upright faster than he should have, and his head wobbled. No, that wasn’t his head, that was his pickled brain.
“Want me to get one of the prospects to take you back to church?”
He blinked again, hoping his vision would clear. He turned his head to find Dawg standing about five feet away, hands planted on his hips, an unhappy expression on his bearded face. The six-foot-two biker had dark smudges under his eyes. He was probably ready to get some shuteye of his own after working all night.
Slade tried to shake his head, but that made things so much worse. “No,” he finally got out, his voice croaking like a sick frog.
“Either that or Diamond. Take your fuckin’ pick. If I were you, I’d take door number one. Number two might just shriek your head right off, an’ then slam your dick over an’ over in that door. ‘Specially since your usin’ one of my girls as a fuckin’ pillow.”
Door number one sounded like a good option. There was probably a prospect still in the club that could drag his ass home.
Slade forced out, “Where’s Moose?”
“In the back, restockin’. Gonna get him to haul this passed-out bitch home in a few an’ can get ‘im to drop you off, too.”
Slade started to nod but thought better of it.
His brain felt like soup; no point in sloshing it around more than necessary.
“Don’t get why you’re gettin’ fuckin’ plastered here every night instead of The Iron Horse. Drink free there, here you don’t.”
He drank here because most of the club members didn’t come out to the strip club. It wasn’t a typical hang-out for them. They preferred drinking in church or the public side of the bar, so they could just walk upstairs to their room to pass out.
If he had any sense he’d do the same, but after working a shift at The Iron Horse slinging drinks for Hawk, the club’s VP and bar manager, and helping contain any out-of-control customers, he didn’t feel like serving himself. He wanted to sit on the other side of the bar, enjoy himself, and not be bothered.
It also didn’t hurt that most of Dawg’s girls were easy on the eyes and came with big-ass tits.
Not to mention, soft laps to pass out on. And sometimes pussy that didn’t smell like death warmed over.
But that wasn’t the main reason he’d been ending up here. Fuck no, it wasn’t.
The main reason was to lay low. Get his drink on without that bitch harping at him.
A bitch he hadn’t even banged yet.
A bitch who had tried to get her claws in him. Take a permanent seat on the back of his sled.
He wasn’t ready to have an ol’ lady, for fuck’s sake.
And even if he was, it certainly wouldn’t be Diamond. While they had a bit of fun last summer during some of the club runs, that was all it was... fun. To an extent.
At least until she wanted to become his regular piece.
Worst part about her was the woman didn’t listen. No fucking way was he putting up with backtalk and attitude.
He didn’t mind claws as long as they only came out while fucking. Screw that everyday shit, though. That would give a brother a headache. Worse than the hangover he would have tomorrow.
Was the bitch hot? Fuck yeah, she was.
Long dark, dark, dark brown hair that was typical for the Dirty Angels MC women, and great for digging his fingers into. Bright blue eyes that could pierce him to his soul. Plump, red lips that would be perfect for wrapping around his cock and sucking him like a fucking Hoover vacuum. And the fucking tits on her... Damn, they’d been pressed to his back during the runs a couple times. He couldn’t forget those curvy hips of hers, either. Perfect to sink his fingers into, whether he was fucking her from behind or she was riding him like a bucking bronco.
All stuff he had planned on doing with her until he found out she was fucking crazy, too. She could flip the bitch switch in an instant.
Could have something to do with Di’s father, Rocky, doing time in SCI Greene for murder. She was the kind of woman who needed a firm hand and apparently didn’t get it growing up with her mother, Ruby, from what he heard. The only father-figure she had was Ace and that poor man already had his hands full with his own two sons, Diesel and Hawk, as well as his nieces and nephews, Dex, Ivy and Bella.
But it wasn’t like he’d had a father-figure in his life, either.
No matter what, Slade certainly wasn’t going to be filling in for her “daddy” and giving her some life lessons. Especially now that she was about to turn thirty.
No. Fucking. Way.
Though... some of those so-called life lessons could be fun. Her sister, Jewel, got a lot of those from her ol’ man, Diesel. It always seemed D, the club’s Sergeant at Arms, was throwing his ol’ lady over his shoulder and hauling her ass either home or upstairs to his room at church to “teach her a lesson.”
His lips twitched. Those were the best kind.
Slade wasn’t sure if that’s what Diamond needed. But if she did, he wasn’t the one willing to give them to her.
Though, he normally didn’t mind a challenge, right now he wanted easy.
No lip. No attitude. Fuck, tuck, and go.
Another reason he kept landing face down on Dawg’s girls. Couldn’t get easier than that. For the most part, anyhow.
They knew better than to cling afterward.
“What’s ‘er name?” Slade asked Dawg, who was coming from the back room with Moose on his heels. Slade had been so caught up in his thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed he’d left.
“Don’t think it’s gonna matter when you wake up tomorrow mornin’.”
“It is tomorrow mornin’ already,” the prospect told Dawg.
“No, once he lands in his rack, he ain’t wakin’ up ‘til tomorrow mornin’.”
Moose laughed and nodded.
Nope, that couldn’t happen. Slade had to work The Iron Horse tomorrow night... tonight... what-fucking-ever. “What time is it?”
“Fuck,” Slade groaned.
“Yeah, an’ I wanna hit my own rack. So get the fuck outta here.”
Slade tilted his head toward the still passed-out stripper. “Didn’t fuck ‘er, right?”
“No. Didn’t make it off that couch ‘fore you both passed out. Got a sloppy lap dance an’ then you were both out fuckin’ cold.”
“Fuck,” Slade muttered again.
“Yeah, owe me a hundred bucks.”
Slade’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “For the lap dance?”
“No, owe her for the lap dance. Owe me for the loss of tips since she missed her last dance on stage.”
Dawg nodded. “Yeah, shit. This shit’s gotta stop, brother. Bad ‘nough when you’re gettin’ wasted, but gettin’ my girls wasted ain’t good. Got me?”
Slade sucked in a breath. “Yeah. Got you.”
“Gotta carry her, Moose. Make sure she gets inside her place an’ it’s locked up ‘fore you leave.”
“Got you, boss.”
“An’ don’t be copin’ a feel, either. Got me?” Dawg said louder than what was necessary, which made Slade wince.
The heavyset prospect lifted his palms in front of him. “Ain’t takin’ advantage of some unconscious lady.”
Dawg snorted at the prospect’s use of “lady.” But no matter what Dawg thought of his “girls,” he treated them well and made sure they stayed safe. That’s why he never had a lack of talent on stage.
“An’ that’s why I pay you well, prospect. Now get ‘em both outta here so I can go crash.”
Moose leaned over, picked the stripper up like she weighed nothing, even though she was dead weight, and Slade reluctantly climbed to his feet. His head spun for a second but once he leveled out, he was good to follow Moose out of the club’s back door to the employee parking lot.
However, out in the parking lot on the way to the prospect’s vehicle, he had to take a quick pit stop and rid his gut of its liquid contents.
And that didn’t make him feel one fucking bit better.
“The big three-oh!” Jewel practically screamed in her ear.
Diamond winced at her sister’s loud enthusiasm. Who the hell was excited when they turned thirty? Not her. Di was not looking forward to her thirtieth birthday. No way, no how. Thirty and still single. Thirty and still not an ol’ lady. Thirty and still didn’t have anyone in her bed on a regular basis. Thirty and her steady boyfriend took batteries. And a lot of them.
“Okay, so what are we planning?” Bella asked, leaning back into the counter at Sophie’s Sweet Treats.
They were having an impromptu meeting of the DAMC women. Somehow, whenever that happened they always ended up at Sophie’s bakery.
Well, the reason why was simple.
Fucking awesome, sweet, fattening cupcakes. The best in western Pennsylvania if you asked Diamond. But that was neither here nor there...
The point was the women wanted to do something for her birthday.
“We could do a ladies’ night out!” Kelsea chirped.
“Where?” Ivy asked.
Kelsea shrugged. “Find some hot club in the ‘Burgh?”
“I’m not going to some club,” Bella muttered.
“Why not? It would be fun!” Kelsea exclaimed.
“Well, that would leave me out,” Sophie said, holding onto her huge belly. “All I need is my water to break in the middle of the dance floor.”
Sophie looked like she was about to pop out Zak’s kid at any second. Di wrinkled her nose. It actually looked painful with her body stretched enormously out of its natural shape. It looked like she shoved an overfilled beach ball under her maternity top. She couldn’t imagine Sophie’s former hot body would ever be the same again.
The woman waddled over to the display case and groaned as she tried to lean over to pull out a tray of cupcakes for them to devour.
“Oh!” Sophie gasped.
“What?” Kiki yelled, eyes wide.
Sophie straightened, making a face. “I think I just peed myself a little. Freaking kid is riding on my bladder like it’s a Harley.”
“Let me get that,” Bella said, putting a hand on Sophie’s back and gently moving her out of the way. She pulled out a tray of cupcakes that looked mouth-watering.
“What are those?” Diamond whispered in awe, mesmerized by the hip-widening confections.
Bella did an elaborate hand sweep over the tray. “S’mores cupcakes. Chocolate cake filled with a swirl of fudge and marshmallow filling, topped with toasted marshmallow frosting and graham cracker crumbles on top.”
Ivy sighed as she stared at the baked goodies.
Di felt the same way. “Give me one of those right now!”
Bella laughed and handed them out. Everyone got very quiet as they shoved all the sugary goodness into their cupcake holes. Eye rolls, passionate groans, and lip smacking ensued.
Then the bells over the door jingled and they all turned their attention in that direction.
“How’d you know we were pigging out on the newest cupcake flavor?” Bella called out.
Axel pushed through the door, wearing his uniform and a heavy patrol jacket since it was March and winter still hadn’t completely vacated Shadow Valley. He smiled and shrugged. His gaze bounced from the tray of cupcakes to Bella.
“I’ve been thinking about them all morning. Especially since you mumbled something about S’mores cupcakes in your sleep.”
“I did not,” Bella scoffed.
“I swear you did! Give me one of those.” He approached the display case and Bella handed him a cupcake.
All the women held their breath as Axel peeled the baby blue paper baking cup off the bottom of the cupcake and waited for him to tongue the icing in the sensual way he was known to do. But he didn’t. He just took a big bite.
All their breath rushed out at once.
“What the fuck, Bella? You ruined it now that he’s in your bed every night,” Ivy muttered under her breath to her sister.
Bella smirked and shrugged.
After swallowing his bite, he cocked an eyebrow toward the group of women behind the counter. “Am I interrupting an important meeting?”
“Yes, since your cousin’s turning thirty in a couple weeks. We’re making plans.”
“Oh fuck,” Axel muttered. “Like what?”
“Going clubbing or male strippers. Or,” Kelsea shrugged, “something fun.”
Axel frowned. “Male strippers?”
“Yeah, why not?”
Di didn’t miss it when Axel’s gaze hit Bella’s. Something went unsaid between the two.
“We’re not doing male strippers,” Bella said softly, rolling her lips inward to contain her amusement.
“Says who?” Kelsea asked, disappointed.
Diamond was surprised she didn’t stomp her foot for good measure. She was known to do that on occasion.
“I could tell you who would have something to say about it.” Axel’s gaze landed on Jewel. “Diesel.” It moved to Sophie. “Z.” It bounced to Ivy. “Jag.” Then finally landed on Kiki. “And Hawk. Maybe that’s who.”
“But not you, right?” Kiki asked, just as amused. “You’d be fine with Bella going to see male strippers?”
Axel’s inhale of breath and his chest puffing out was unmistakable. He yanked up his duty belt. “I have no problem with it.”
Kelsea’s laughter peeled through the shop as she slapped her palm on her thigh. “Right!”
“I wouldn’t. Bella’s free to do what she wants!” he exclaimed.
“Riiiight,” Kelsea said again, still laughing.
Bella moved around the counter and up to Axel, slipping a hand into his open patrol jacket and planting it on his belly. “Maybe it’s best if you leave us women to finish our little pow wow. Go fight some crime or something.”
He planted a quick kiss on her lips before shoving the remainder of the cupcake into his mouth. He nodded, chewed and swallowed before saying, “Can I take one to go?”
Kiki grabbed another cupcake and held it out to him. He moved to snag it and then leaned into Bella, putting his mouth to her ear.
Diamond wondered what he whispered to his woman and felt a pang of jealousy. It wasn’t that she wanted Axel, hell no, she didn’t. He was her cousin, for fuck’s sake. But she was envious of what those two had.
Hell, she was envious of what all the women in the room, who had hooked up recently, had with their men. All but her. Well, and Kelsea, too.
Bella beamed up at him and after another quick kiss to her forehead, Axel left.
Bella turned to the group who was staring at her and she clapped her hands together sharply. “Now, let’s get down to the business of planning Di’s thirtieth birthday bash!”
The women hooted and held up their cupcakes, tapping them together like champagne glasses.
“I know part of my plan is that I’m getting laid for my thirtieth,” Di declared with a nod.
“Easy enough,” Ivy said, licking icing off her finger.
“We believe you, sis,” Jewel assured her. “All we have to do is plan a pig roast and there’ll be plenty of dick to choose from.”
“Like who?” Di asked and before anyone could answer, she added, “And don’t say Slade.”
“Okaaay. I won’t.” Jewel frowned. “Like hang-arounds. And... we can invite the Dark Knights. I’m sure one of them would drag you by your hair upstairs and bang the shit out of you.”
“Yeah, I’m sure our brother would love to watch me being dragged upstairs by a Knight. Your ol’ man might have something to say about it, too.”
Jewel waved a dismissing hand in the air. “Then don’t do it at church. Take whoever it is back to your place.”
Di tilted her head as she considered her sister’s suggestion.
“Okay, but we still need to plan what we’re doing,” Kelsea said.
“I think we need to do it somewhere other than church,” Kiki said. “We want it to be special. You only turn thirty once and we don’t want it to turn into a club party just like any other.”
“True,” Ivy said, tapping her bottom lip with her finger.
“So we don’t want to do it at The Iron Horse, either...” Kiki said, clearly giving it some thought.
“No. Plus, do we really want the men busting in and being all up in our business? Making sure we’re not doing something they don’t approve of?” Jewel said, reminding them all of how bossy and domineering the club members can be.
“Right. I thought you liked driving your man so crazy he gives you those “lessons” of his?”
Jewel smiled, her eyes sparkling. “I do. But still...”
“Right. They’ll spoil it. It has to be elsewhere.”
“So we go to a club and go dancing. Simple as that,” Kelsea said.
“Somebody really wants to go out clubbing,” Kiki murmured.
“What else is there to do?” Kelsea, the youngest of all the club sisters, asked.
“Not goin’ out dancin’,” came the deep grumble from the direction of the bakery kitchen.
“Ah, fuck,” Kelsea muttered next to Di as Zak came through the door.
“Ain’t goin’ out runnin’ ‘round puttin’ yourself in danger with the fuckin’ Warriors on the warpath,” he continued.
“The Warriors aren’t going to be at a night club in Pittsburgh,” Kelsea huffed.
Z shook his head, making his dark shoulder-length hair swing, and stepped up to his wife, curving a hand along the bottom of her extended belly. “How’s he doin’?”
“She’s doing fine,” Sophie corrected him.
“Why didn’t you guys find out the sex?” Kiki asked with more than a little exasperation in her voice.
Sophie waved a hand around, then laid it over Z’s. “We want it to be a surprise. And I already know it’s going to be a girl.”
“Ain’t gonna be a girl,” Z grumbled.
Bella snorted at the argument that kept being repeated for almost the last nine months. And it was driving them all crazy.
“What are you going to do if it is?” Kiki asked, her eyes crinkling with amusement at his stubbornness.
Z opened his mouth and shut it. His eyes narrowed, and he frowned. Then he said, “You women wanna party, do it at church.”
“Z! No!” Kelsea yelled.
“No, we’re not doing it at church,” Jewel seconded Kelsea.
“No lip. Ain’t gotta choice.”
“The fuck we don’t!” Kelsea cried.
Z raised his brows and swung his head toward her, laying down the law. “Church or nothin’. Got me?”
“What the fuck,” Kelsea muttered. “We’re not having our meetings here anymore.”
Di sort of agreed with Kelsea. It was difficult to have their meetings at the bakery now when it always seemed that Z was around. Instead of working in any of the other club businesses, he decided he’d help “manage” the bakery, which, to him, pretty much meant he got to boss his wife and Bella around and sometimes do paperwork.
But really, Diamond thought the reason he wanted to “work” in the bakery was to keep an eye on and protect his pregnant wife.
Sophie cupped her man’s cheek as she grinned up at him. “Then you men have to promise to stay out and we can have male strippers come in.”
His blue eyes swung back down to his wife. “What?”
“You heard me,” Sophie murmured, her grin widening to a smile.
His eyebrows hit the top of his head. “Strippers?”
Di tried not to laugh at the way he spit that word out of his mouth.
“Yeah, you know, like the ones that are always at all the club parties, except these have dicks instead of tits,” Kelsea said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Shouldn’t have a problem with that, right? With equality and all that.”
Z’s eyebrows dropped low and his expression turned dark and stormy. “Equality? Have you lost your fuckin’ mind?”
“Nope. Time for this club to come into the twenty-first century. We’re demanding equality,” Kelsea declared as she stomped her foot. Ah, there it was.
Z snorted, dropped his head to stare at his boots and shook it. “Brain musta got scrambled,” he muttered to the floor. He raised his gaze to his wife. “You ain’t goin’ nowhere with my kid in your belly, got me?”
Sophie pinned her lips together as she patted his chest reassuringly. “First off, I’m not going out dancing in this condition.”
“In any condition,” he corrected her in a mutter.
“And your concern with our safety is duly noted.”
“Reason for it.”
“Right. I get it, baby,” she whispered. She glanced toward the rest of the women. “But it’s Di’s thirtieth birthday and we are going to celebrate it, whether you like it or not.”
“Yep, that’s so,” Sophie repeated with a nod.
Di rolled her lips under in an attempt not to beam at Sophie’s control over her husband. As club president and badass biker, he wasn’t normally willing to bend for a woman, but Sophie had him wrapped around her little finger. And right now she was wiggling that powerful pinky.
The rest of the women were pretending not to notice Sophie’s control over her old man. Di eyeballed Kelsea, hoping the younger woman kept her trap shut and didn’t blow it for them.
Kelsea’s eyes slid to hers and she bugged them out in a silent message. Di gave her a slight nod.
Zak finally sighed. “Gonna get Hawk to close down The Iron Horse an’ get Dawg to book you some male strippers. Ain’t gonna let any of the brothers over there to bother you. Drink, dance, eyeball some strange dick, have fun. Still safe. Got me?”
“Got you,” Sophie whispered, her eyes sparkling.
“Invite Dawg’s girls.”
“No,” she said firmly with a shake of her head.
His eyebrows furrowed. “The sweet butts.”
“The Knights’ ol’ ladies,” he muttered finally.
“Gonna set the prospects out front to guard the door. Keep an eye out for trouble.”
“Fine. As long as they don’t come in.”
His nostrils flared. “Whatever,” he muttered, pressed a kiss to her forehead and moved back in the direction he had come from. No one said a word until the door to the back kitchen swung shut. Then they even waited a few more seconds until they knew he was out of hearing range.
Then they all looked at each other and beamed. Di rushed up to Sophie and gave her a high five. “Good job.”
“Now, I just hope I don’t pop until after the party. I want to see the results of my negotiations.”
“Strange dick?” Ivy asked, quoting Z.
“Hell yes!” Kelsea crowed.
Ivy snorted. “Dawg should have connections to find a hot traveling troupe of male strippers on short notice.”
“Up to him, he may find the ugliest ones.”
“I’ll call him and make sure he doesn’t,” Jewel assured Kelsea. “And I’ll make sure there’s a lot of them. One for each of us.”
“Oh, brother. You know Z was only the first obstacle. Some of us will have one of our very own,” Kiki said.
“Like Hawk?” Jewel asked.
“Mmm. And remember that big, serious, overly protective brother of his?” Kiki asked her with an arched brow.
“How can I forget?” Diesel’s ol’ lady answered with a frown.
“Bah,” Jewel answered, waving a dismissing hand. “They’ll all get over it.”
Di was suddenly glad she didn’t have to worry about a possessive man like most of them did. She was free to enjoy her birthday and hot, naked men as much as she wanted.
And she was going to make sure she took full advantage of her birthday celebration. Maybe she’d even be able to talk one of the strippers into a private dance. At her place. With both of them totally naked. And horizontal.
No batteries required.
Yeah, that sounded like a great idea.
She couldn’t wait.
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