Down & Dirty: Hawk
Dirty Angels MC, Book 3
By Jeanne St. James
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Blurb:
Welcome to Shadow Valley
where the Dirty Angels MC rules. Get ready to get Down & Dirty because this
is Hawk’s story...
When
strong statements must be made, Hawk, as the MC’s VP, must be the one to make
them. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences, like him landing in
jail. Though the club keeps an attorney on retainer, the one who shows up isn’t
quite who he’s expecting. Not even close.
Feisty,
classy, and curvy, this attorney pushes his buttons in all the right ways. And Hawk
can’t ignore a challenge. However, she’s so out of his league, he can’t hope
for anything more than a few chances to scratch all her itches.
When
Kiki’s boss hands over the club’s account, she doesn’t know what to expect and her
meeting with the overbearing, bad boy biker goes anything but smoothly. Like
Hawk, Kiki loves a challenge, too. But getting involved in the club and its VP
may not be what she bargained for. Especially when it comes to several run-ins
with a rival MC, including one which may very well affect the rest of her life.
Kiki
needs to decide if becoming involved with Hawk is worth not only the judgment
from her peers but, even worse, the violent mayhem the club becomes entangled
in.
Trigger warning: This story includes a
violent situation that includes kidnapping, physical and sexual assault. 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 take charge, this book is for you.
Excerpt:
Chapter One
Hawk
grunted.
About
fucking time.
As
the annoying high-pitched buzz sounded, the magnetic door lock released and the
reinforced steel door clanged open, he glanced up and saw a guard pushing
through the door.
He’d
been sitting here long enough, waiting in this sparse room that only housed a
bolted-down, dented and scratched metal table and two chairs that sat unevenly
on the concrete floor.
Not
that he had anywhere else to go. He was stuck here until the club’s attorney
showed up and did his legal hocus-pocus to get him the fuck out of county jail.
All
he knew was that he did not look good in an orange poly-cotton blend. He
preferred denim and leather. He’d rather not be wearing a one-size-does-not-fit-all jumpsuit at all. It wouldn’t take much
flexing for him to split the seams with the one he currently wore.
Like
the Hulk.
He
grinned.
But
that grin was quickly lost as the person following the guard into the room did
not look anything like his lawyer.
Not
unless the Dirty Angels MC’s attorney had a sex change operation, lost at least
fifty pounds—which included a gut—and slapped in colored contacts. Not to
mention, found some sense of style.
Hawk
closed his dropped jaw before he started to drool like a fool. Because, for
fuck’s sake, slobbering all over himself wouldn’t be very badass biker. Not.
At. All.
He
drew himself up straighter in the uncomfortable metal chair and puffed out his
chest until the top snap of the jumpsuit popped open.
Then
he let his gaze slowly run down that fine piece of ass from top to toe.
Oh, fuck me, he thought as he took in
the woman’s long, wavy dark brown hair, her plump suck-my-cock lips, her bouncing tits that wanted to bust out of the
blood-red blouse that fit her like an if-you-can’t-acquit
glove, her narrow waist, her not-so-narrow
hips, which were encased in a black skirt that only came down mid-thigh—thighs
that would fit perfectly around his ears—those long-ass, lickable calves, slim
ankles, and... fuck... higher-than-hell heels.
She
could walk all over him as long as she wore those fucking shoes.
He
heard the clearing of a throat and reluctantly lifted his gaze to flashing, but
amused, deep blue eyes.
He
hadn’t even realized the guard was gone and the door had been closed. They were
alone.
With
a hard-on that wouldn’t quit, he now couldn’t wait to get back to his cramped
cell to rub one out. He didn’t even care if his cellmate watched. Fuck that
strung-out weasel dick.
“Where’s
Pudwhacker?”
And
when that vision opened her mouth to speak... Yeah, he just about creamed in
his county-issued tighty whities. “I was assigned to your club by Mr.
Pannebaker.”
“Why?”
came out sounding more like a grunt than a question.
“Because
I’m good—”
In bed? I’ll be the judge
of that.
“And
he’s busy,” she finished.
The
woman yanked the chair away from the table and the metal legs screeched along
the filthy, pitted concrete floor. She smiled when he winced at the sound.
“You
gonna be able to sit down in that skirt?”
She
proved it when she slid that ass, which he had yet to get an eyeful of, onto
the seat.
He
was jealous of that scrap of metal. No doubt. She should be sitting on his face
instead.
“Sure
thing, Mr...” She flipped open his file, ran a long blood-red fingernail—one
that matched her blouse—along a document inside and then tapped it. “Mr.
Dougherty.”
“You
wear that for all your clients? Or am I special?”
She
plastered on an I’m-only-here-because-I-have-to-be
smile. “All my clients are special, Mr. Dougherty.”
“I’m
sure,” he muttered. “Bet everyone who pays those fuckin’ high hourly fees feels
special.” He reached around and rubbed his ass. “Feelin’ real special right ‘bout now.”
She
tilted her head and considered him. “You wouldn’t have to pay anything if you
hadn’t been arrested.”
Well,
that was true. But sometimes statements had to be made
and he, as well as his club brothers, had to be the ones to make them.
“Shit
happens.”
“That
it does. So here we are. Can we get started, Mr. Dougherty?”
“Hawk.”
She
pursed her lips for a moment. And in that moment his balls tightened painfully.
Damn, didn’t he want to shoot his load all over her face.
Suddenly,
she dropped her torso beneath the table and then popped back up. Hawk watched
as her tits also bounced back, testing the top button of her deep V-neck
blouse.
He
blinked. Since when were threads so damn strong?
Then
his breath rushed out of him loudly when she slipped on a pair of glasses.
Holy
fuck. She just became every man’s sexy librarian wet dream.
I’ve been a naughty boy,
Ms. Librarian.
She
placed some sort of flat computer that didn’t have a keyboard on the table.
What Ivy would call a tablet or some such shit. Not that he cared. He didn’t
fuck with those types of things. He barely knew the basics when he used the
computer at his bar and even then, he let his computer whiz of a cousin do the
rest.
He
didn’t have time for that shit.
She dropped her gaze to the folder. “So, I went over your
charges—”
“Read
my last name without your glasses.”
Her
head rose and those deep blue eyes blinked at him. “What?”
“Read
my name without your glasses, now you need ‘em?”
She
stared at him. “I forget to put them on sometimes since they’re just for
reading. Your name was a bit blurry, but I could make it out. Does it matter if
I’m wearing my glasses or not?”
Fuck yeah it does. Especially
if you’re naked.
And in my bed.
“Gotta
name?”
Her
mouth opened and closed once before she said, “Sorry, I should’ve introduced
myself. I’m Kiki Clark.”
His
brows shot up his forehead. “Kiki?”
“Yes,
sir,” she said on a dramatic sigh.
Hawk
muttered, “What the fuck.”
She
shrugged. “Ask my parents.”
“So,
you ain’t lyin’.”
“I
never lie.”
His
brows shot up once again. He had a hard time believing that coming from an
attorney.
“Okay,
maybe sometimes. But only when it’s important. Like when someone’s freedom
hangs in the balance.”
Well, damn. “You lie to judges,” he
stated.
Without
even the slightest hesitation and a fleeting smile, she answered, “I plead the
fifth.”
Hawk
leaned back in his chair and barked out a laugh. “Yeah, you’re just like a real
super hero rightin’ wrongs.” He shook his head. “Damn, wanna get in your
skirt.”
“I’ll
dry clean it for you first if you would like to wear it. Might be a bit tight
on you, though.” She lifted a shoulder slightly. “No loss for me, since I’ve
never been fond of it anyway.”
“Fuckin’
goddamn,” he whispered.
She
arched a brow. “Does that mean good?”
“Fuck
yes. For me, anyhow. But I’ll make sure it’s good for you, too.”
“I’m
relieved,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “I’ve already had too
many selfish pricks in my bed.”
“I’m
not a selfish prick.”
“So
you say.”
He
studied her, wondering how many notches she had on her bed post. “How many is
‘too many?’”
“You
first, Mr. Dougherty. How many women have you
had in your bed? I’ve heard rumors about those biker parties.”
“If
you’re talkin’ about at the same time... then a few. Wanna be one?”
She
adjusted herself in her chair, then pushed her glasses higher on her nose. “How
about we just agree to keep our relationship on a professional level. Me as the
lawyer and you as the defendant.”
Hawk
gave her a half-assed grin. “Doubt that’s gonna happen.”
She
made a noise. “It’ll happen.”
“You
say so, babe.”
Now
she gave him a Do-I-really-have-to-tolerate-this-asshole?
smile. “I certainly do, pumpkin.”
Hawk
snorted and his grin widened. He liked a challenge. And
she was pushing all his buttons. In the right way.
She
again arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him. “Now, can we get down to
business?”
He
wasn’t ready to get down to business. Or at least the business she was here
for. He liked playing with her. And she didn’t seem to mind it, either. He
liked that. No, he fucking loved
that. “Right here on the table?”
She
shook her head and sighed, then ran her gaze over his head before switching
gears without a warning. “Did it hurt to get your head tattooed?”
It
hurt like a bitch. “Tickled.”
Now
both of her brows rose. “You’re ticklish?”
“Wanna
find out?”
“Another
time, but thanks. The guards might frown upon it if we get into a tickle
fight.”
Hawk’s
grin widened. They’d probably be jealous, if anything. “Not scared of bikers,
are you?”
“Should
I be?”
“Depends
how bad they wanna fuck you.”
“You
want to fuck me...” She glanced down at her file. “Hawk? Is that your real
name?”
“Yeah.
On both accounts.”
“Ah. Okay. I’ll take your uncontrollable
desire into consideration before I step into a dark room alone with you.”
Once
again, Hawk sat back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled.
She was a feisty one. Classy. Curvy. A lot of hair to pull. Smart and a smart
ass mouth, as well.
Right
up his alley.
Yeah,
he liked a good challenge.
He
might have to taste her between her legs to see if she was sweet as well as
spicy.
“Gotta
get outta here. Got a bar to run.”
“Right.”
She peeked back at her paperwork before meeting his gaze directly. Head on.
Nope. No fear at all in those eyes. “The Iron Horse Roadhouse. Maybe you should
have thought about that before you kicked that biker’s ass.”
“Just
defendin’ myself.”
She
leaned forward, giving Hawk a better view of her tits. “So, let me get this
straight, the man that you knocked out and badly injured put his hands on you
first?”
Shit.
“He
put his paws on DAMC property.”
When
she noticed where his eyes had focused, she sat back. “Him specifically? Or
someone in his club?”
Hawk
shrugged, then stretched his neck out toward the left and then toward the
right, cracking his spine, before answering, “Don’t matter. All the same.”
“Not
in the eyes of the law.”
“Justice
is blind,” Hawk grumbled, thinking about the ten years the former club president,
Zak, spent in prison for a crime the Shadow Warriors set him up for.
Fuckers.
They deserved everything they got and then some.
“I
can’t disagree with you on that. That’s why I got into criminal defense.”
Speaking
of defense... “Where’s my brother?”
“The
other Mr. Dougherty has been released.”
What
the fuck? “How’d he get sprung an’ my ass is still sittin’ in here?”
Kiki
lifted a shoulder, one he wanted to sink his teeth into as he was making her
come. “He didn’t waste my time trying to get down my pants. Or up my skirt.”
Right.
He was sure Diesel would take a shot at that if given half the chance. “Doubt
that’s the reason.”
“And
you would be correct. Though this can’t be proven, I have a feeling your
brother’s size alone intimidated the witnesses. No one saw him do anything but
hold the front door open to the pub to let the rest of your crew in.”
Lucky
fucking bastard.
“What
did these so-called witnesses see me do?”
“They
saw enough that you would be held responsible for the damage.”
“So,
has nothin’ to do with crackin’ some Shadow Warriors’ heads. Just the damage to
that bar?”
“Sort
of, but not exactly.”
“That’s
clear as fuckin’ piss.”
“I
agree.”
Hawk
grunted. “Club’ll pay for the damage.”
“Already
done.”
He
cocked an eyebrow. “So what’s the hold up?”
“I
have to go before the District Justice and plea for leniency. He seems
determined to make an example of at least one of you. You came into his jurisdiction
and wreaked havoc, Mr... Hawk. Judges tend to frown upon that. They tend not to
like motorcycle gangs—”
“Club,”
he corrected her.
“What?”
“Club,”
he barked. “DAMC’s a fuckin’ club, a brotherhood, not a gang.”
“Okay,
well,” she pushed her glasses up her nose once more. “Club, then. Judges tend
not to like clubs going to war in
their area. Can you see where he’s coming from?”
“You
know this DJ?”
“Yes.”
He
narrowed his eyes as he watched her face carefully. “Good?”
“Very
well, yes.”
Hawk
leaned forward over the table until they were almost face to face. “You fuck
‘im?”
He
couldn’t miss the uncomfortable swallow and the flash of shock that crossed her
expression. Finally, he got a reaction from her. But it quickly disappeared as
a blank mask slipped over her face.
“I’m
not going to answer that. That’s simply ridiculous.”
“You
gonna wear a skirt like that when you plead my innocence?”
When
she sighed with impatience, Hawk’s gaze became glued to the rise and fall of
her chest.
“I’m
not pleading your innocence. I’m shooting for a reduced sentence.”
“Then
you plan on fucking me an’ not in a good way.”
“I’m
going to do my best to get you out of here and back to your club and your brotherhood as an ‘upstanding business owner who made an unwise
decision that won’t be repeated.’”
“An
unwise decision.” Hawk snorted. “In self-defense.”
“No.
I’m not going to insult the judge that way. You’ve learned from your time here
and you’ve learned from your mistake. You’re taking this as a life lesson and
will be a better citizen because of it.”
Damn,
she was good. She almost convinced him with that bullshit. “Sure, babe. Sounds
like a plan. Long as it works.”
“It’ll
work if you keep your mouth shut in the courtroom and you don’t stare down the
judge in defiance. You let me do all the talking, while you’re as quiet as a
church mouse and looking as harmless as one, too.”
“Mice
can do a lotta fuckin’ damage.”
Hawk
bit back a laugh when she slapped a hand to her forehead and her eyes bugged
out behind those sexy little glasses. “Fuck my life,” she said under her
breath.
Damn,
that was hot. “Love a classy lady with a dirty fuckin’ mouth. Wanna wrap my
fist in all that hair when you’re suckin’ my cock with it.”
She
opened her mouth, blinked, sucked in a deep breath and then sighed loudly
before saying, “You really know how to sweet talk a lady.”
“Don’t
want you to be a lady. Want you to be a hellcat. Not prissy. Sweatin’,
screamin’, bitin’, scratchin’, fuckin’. Comin’ so hard you see spots.”
“Well,
all righty then. Let me pull up my calendar so we can schedule that.” She held
up a finger as she tapped an app on her computer/tablet/electronic thingy.
“Date?”
“First
night I’m outta this joint.”
“Location?”
“On
the floor, against the wall, on a table, in my bed.”
“Well,
that’s a lot of typing.” Tap, tap, tap.
“Okay, let me make sure I got this down correctly... Suckin’, scratchin’, bitin’, sweatin’, fuckin’, and...” She glanced
up from her tablet.
“Screamin’.
Forgot screamin’.”
“Ah.”
She nodded, tapping the screen. “Screamin’.”
She lifted a brow his direction. “Anything in particular?”
“My
name.”
“Got
it. Screaming H-A-W-K. All that
against the wall, on the bed, the floor and hanging from a ceiling fan. Right?”
He
smirked. “That’ll do for starters.”
“Right.
I can’t wait.”
“Me
neither.” She might be taking all of this like a big joke, but she was going to
find out just how serious he was.
She
focused her pretty blues on him. “Can you promise me one thing?”
“What’s
that, babe?”
“It’s
going to be the best fuck I’ve ever had?”
Fucking
goddamn. “Have a feelin’ it’s gonna be the best fuck I ever had.”
She
tapped her finger against her bottom lip—which he had the urge to bite—then
tilted her head. “Okay, I lied. I need another promise.”
His
lips twitched. “Shoot.”
“If
I get you out of here, you’re not going to punch anyone else.”
He
studied her a couple beats. “Can’t promise that, babe.”
“Why?”
“Got
enemies.”
Her
eyes narrowed. “Who?”
He
zipped his lips shut.
“Who?”
she prodded. “Those bikers you beat up in that bar?”
Hawk
leaned forward, no longer amused at the direction the conversation was going.
“Know you’re new to this. Know you’re here to help me, help all the brothers
when we’re in a jam. Know it. Appreciate it. But you’ll learn... Club business,
babe, ain’t a woman’s business. When you’re needed, you’ll get the info we can
give you an’ no more. Got me?”
Kiki
abruptly shoved her chair back with a squeal and stood. “Sorry, but no, I don’t
got you. You want me to stick my neck
out for you and your boys—”
“Brothers,”
he cut in.
She
ignored him and continued, “Then you need to be open and honest with me or you
can hang out to dry for all I care. Got
me?”
Hawk
smiled, leaned back in his chair and ran his gaze over her once more. Yep, he
was going to get a piece of that hellcat. “Damn, woman, can’t wait for that
appointment.”
“We
have to get you out of here first.”
“You
do that.”
She
stepped closer to the table to look down at him. “Are you going to be checking
out my ass when I leave?”
“Fuck
yeah.”
With
a nod, she spun around, strutted her way to the door and pressed the buzzer.
Hawk
didn’t miss the guard checking out her ass, either.
Son of a bitch.
JEANNE ST. JAMES is a USA Today bestselling erotic romance
author who loves an alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started
writing. Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl
magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She
is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F
ménages. Want to read a sample of her work? Download a sampler book here: BookHip.com/MTQQKK
To keep up with her busy release schedule check her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup
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