Down & Dirty: Jag (Dirty Angels MC, Book 2)
By Jeanne St. James
Genre: Steamy
Contemporary Romance, MC Romance
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2wjlEZg (FREE on Kindle Unlimited)
Amazon Paperback:
http://amzn.to/2gkvR0P
5 Star Amazon Review:
“Amazing Series: Oh my gosh I LOVE this series! This is the second book in
the Dirty Angels MC series and as much as I liked Zak’s book, and I really,
really liked Zak’s book, I think I like Jag’s even better. Jag is a total trip,
the man is super sexy and annoyingly alpha, but he’s also sweet and hilariously
funny when it comes to Ivy...she definitely pushes ALL his buttons.”
Blurb:
Welcome to Shadow
Valley where the Dirty Angels MC rules. Get ready to get Down & Dirty
because this is Jag’s story…
The only thing Jag, DAMC Road Captain, loves more than his
custom bike is Ivy. He’s wanted her ever since he could remember. However,
through the years, he’s had to watch her date anyone but him since she avoids
dating bikers like the plague. Instead, she gravitates toward the complete
opposite: geeks and nerds. Something Jag will never be.
Smart and independent, Ivy wants to be the property of no
man. Growing up in the club, she knows firsthand how they treat women. She
regrets the mistake she made by dragging Jag upstairs to his room at the club
one drunken night. Ever since then, she’s been doing her best to keep him at
arm’s length, though it’s proven difficult. Especially when she finds out his
secret, which only endears her to him even more.
Between secrets, lies, and a violent tangle with a rival
club, can these two passionate hot-heads find the love and solace they’re
looking for in each other’s arms? Or will everything just tumble down around
them?
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.
Excerpt:
Chapter One
He was going to
kill the bitch.
Jag pounded on the
door. Again.
She was pushing
him to his limit. And that was not good.
For him.
For her.
For the human race
in general.
“Fuckin’ open the
door or I’ll bust the fuckin’ thing in, got me?”
He was going to
knock politely only one more time, then that was it.
He politely kicked the door with his heavy
biker boot. That was going to leave a mark.
“If you don’t open
this fuckin’ door right—”
The door jerked
open and something—or someone—tried to fly by him.
Jag reached out a
hand and snagged the fleeing body. With a grip around a skinny bicep, the guy
came to a screeching halt.
Jag flung him
around to face him. He scowled. “Who the fuck are you?”
The already pale
guy turned sheet white. With eyes wide, mouth open, he had a discarded shirt
bunched in his fist and his pants hung loosely around his hips, since he
apparently hadn’t taken the time to finish fastening them before the man
decided to jet.
Which was a smart
move. But then, Ivy tended to pick smart dudes. Though, they never hung around
long. Geeky dudes and a biker babe don’t mix no matter how many times she tries.
And he got it, he
really did. Ivy was smart herself. Genius even. And she needed a challenge.
Other than
becoming a biker’s ol’ lady. Or his ol’ lady, more like it.
Jag looked down at
the guy’s bare feet. It seemed he forgot his fucking shoes in his haste.
Stupid fuck. Maybe
he wasn’t so smart after all.
“You touch Dirty
Angels property?”
The guy’s mouth
opened and closed like a guppy as he stared up at Jag, who towered over him by
at least five inches.
“Asked a damn
question. Did you—”
“Get gone, Jag.”
His eyes slid to
the woman now standing in the doorway, holding out a pair of loafers with socks
tucked into them. The one wearing a fucking robe
and probably nothing else.
The guy’s eyes
dropped to his offered shoes, then he snagged them and clasped them to his
chest as if they were a lifeline.
“Get in the house.
Deal with you shortly.”
“The hell you
will. Get gone, Jag.”
His head twisted in
her direction and he took his time inspecting her from top to toe. That fucking
deep red hair of hers spilled around her shoulders, clearly messed up from a
fresh fuck, which he hoped he’d interrupted. Because if anyone should be in her
bed, it should be him.
Her lips were
swollen and pouty. Goddamn, if she had those lips around this nerd’s cock, his
brain would explode. Her green eyes snapped in anger.
Whatever. She
could be mad all she wanted. He was just as pissed. No, more.
“Who I fuck is
none of your damn business,” came out of that smart mouth.
He gritted his
teeth before answering. “The fuck it isn’t. Anything to do with DAMC property
is my business.”
Especially after
she climbed into his bed all those months ago.
“Well, I’m not
DAMC property. So GET GONE!”
Jag released the
now very scared guy with a shove. He stumbled, caught his balance on the
veranda railing, then ran down the metal stairs, taking two at a time. Like a scared
mouse, he sprinted toward a car parked on the street.
He should’ve known
the guy drove a fucking Prius. He should’ve slashed the geek-mobile’s tires for
dipping his dick in DAMC property.
“Fucker doesn’t
even ride a bike. You’ve got shit taste in lays, Ivy.”
“Don’t I know it,”
she muttered, making Jag’s jaw tighten.
“Don’t come back
here,” Jag yelled his warning through the dark to the guy scrambling into his
car like his ass was on fire. “If you know what’s good for ya,” he finished
under his breath. He turned back to face the pissed-off redhead dressed in
black silk that hugged all her damn curves. His balls tightened as hard as his
jaw. “Probably needs a dick extension to fuck you.”
“I don’t know if
that’s an insult to me or to him. Either way, you don’t belong here, Jag. So,
I’ll say it again, get gone.”
“Not leavin’.”
Ivy lifted a
shoulder. “Okay then. You’ll be standing out here all night while I’m sleeping
soundly in my bed. Thanks to you, alone. Normally, I’d say good night, but...
fuck you.”
The door slammed
shut and Jag heard the deadbolt click. He grimaced and stared at the door.
Little did she
know that her uncle, Ace, had given him the key.
He grinned, turned
on his heel and jogged down the steps to where his bike was parked at the foot
of the stairway in the pawn shop lot.
She may not let
him in, but his mission was accomplished. He chased away Ivy’s latest conquest.
And he’d keep
doing it until she got some sense and realized everything she needed has been
right in front of her all along.
He put his girl
between his legs, hit her starter and closed his eyes for a moment, surrounded
by the smooth rumble of his straight exhaust pipes.
His bike was
everything to him. The only thing he wanted more between his legs was Ivy.
The only thing he
loved more than his bike was... fucking
Ivy.
And she was a
fucking bitch.
****
Ivy leaned her
head back against the door, her hands covering her face as she tried not to
scream. She sucked in a deep, shaky breath in an attempt to control her temper,
as well as her frustration. She wasn’t having much luck.
Fucking Jag.
Finally, she heard
the roar of his bike before it faded away.
Coast was clear.
She had no idea
how the brother knew she had a man in her apartment. It was like he had some
sixth sense. This wasn’t the first time he’d chased a man away.
Probably wouldn’t
be the last.
The problem with
being raised in a motorcycle club and being around bikers her whole life was
just that... being around a bunch of misogynistic macho bikers.
Women were
considered property of the club. Property.
And being born into a bloodline of bikers made it hard to escape that.
Not that she
necessarily wanted to escape. She loved her brothers and she loved her life for
the most part.
She did well
financially working in her uncle’s pawn shop and living above it rent-free. She
also had gone to school for computers and programming, so she ran the club’s
website, all the club’s businesses’ websites and fixed any of the club member’s
computers when needed. In all reality, she could open her own computer shop if
she wanted. She knew how to diagnose, knew how to program.
The club relied on
her a lot. Sometimes she even helped Ace, the club’s Treasurer, run the numbers
for the club’s finances.
She was smart. But
sometimes she just did dumb things.
Like sleeping with
Jag once during a drunken mistake one night after a pig roast. She had lost her
mind and dragged him upstairs to his room at the clubhouse. Ever since then,
there’s been tension between them.
Luckily, Ace never
found out because, even though the man was her uncle, he acted like a father to
her, especially since she never knew her real father. And though he loved Jag
like a son, she wouldn’t put it past him to kick the younger man’s ass for
“defiling” Ivy.
Even though Jag
was in no way her first lover.
Ace tended to
encourage Ivy to date men outside the club. Though she wasn’t sure why since he
was an engrained member of the club himself. So, he couldn’t think the brothers
weren’t good enough. Could he?
Maybe he was just
overprotective.
Who knows.
But Ivy slipped up
that night, Jag didn’t fight it and now she’s regretted it ever since.
Because the last
thing she wanted was to be wearing a “Property of Jag” vest similar to the cuts
that some of the other ol’ ladies wore.
She was an independent
woman, goddamn it, and intended on staying that way come hell or high water.
But she had to
admit that the guy she had brought home tonight wasn’t for her. He was just
going to scratch an itch. The “date” they went on had been boring. He was a
nice guy, sure, and cute enough. However, the spark was missing.
Both her and Jag
had been drunk as all get out when they hooked up, there weren’t sparks either.
No, there had been explosions.
And that scared
her to death.
****
Jag sat at the
large lacquered wood table. The one that had the Dirty Angels MC logo carved in
it all those years ago by one of the founding members, his granddaddy Bear.
May the brother
rest in peace.
The way things
were going, it didn’t seem that there would ever be peace. Ever since Bear was
killed by a Shadow Warrior back in the eighties, things had been a little
rocky.
Which brought his
thoughts to his father, Rocky, who was serving a life sentence at SCI Greene
for taking out a few of those Warriors in retribution.
But even after all
these years, the bad blood between the two clubs hadn’t lessened. The Warriors
showed up now and again to create havoc like a bad fucking penny.
And now because of
recent events, the club prez, Pierce, was sitting at the head of the table talking
about keeping security beefed up at all the club’s businesses. Which put a
bigger strain on Diesel, who was both the club’s enforcer and in charge of In
the Shadows Security, which provided bouncers to area bars as well as personal
and commercial security to those who can afford it.
“Need to keep
vigilant.” Pierce glanced around the table, his eyes bouncing from one
executive member to the next. “Even the ol’ ladies, so spread the word to them,
too. Fucker had a set on him when he tried to snag Sophie right in front of Z
on a busy street. If she’d been by herself, no tellin’ what woulda happened to
her.”
Head nods and
pounding of fists went around the table.
“Can tell you what
would happen if they took one of our ol’ ladies, a fuckin’ slaughter, that’s
what,” Diesel grumbled.
“No doubt,” Hawk
agreed.
“Yeah, an’ then we
all end up at Greene in adjoinin’ cells like Rocky and Doc,” Ace, the oldest member
and the coolest head in the room said to both of his sons.
Jag whacked him on
the arm. “Then, brother, you and me both would get to see our pops.”
Ace frowned. “Ain’t
funny, boy.”
“Respect to Doc
and Rocky,” Dex shouted, causing a few hoots and hollers.
Pierce pounded the
gavel on the table. “Okay, okay. Settle down so we can get through our business
an’ I can go bust a nut in my woman.”
They all chuckled.
“Now, anybody got shit
goin’ down with the Dark Knights?” Pierce pinned his gaze on the large man at
the other end of the table. “Diesel?”
“Nothin’ new.”
He looked to his
left. “Hawk?”
“Only thing I got
wind of is they took over Dirty Dick’s Bar.”
Pierce frowned. “Took
over?”
Hawk leaned forward
to look down the table at Pierce. “Not runnin’ it. At least not yet. Mostly
usin’ it as a regular hangout for anyone wearin’ their colors.”
“That’s just south
of the city line.” Which could be concerning since it was farther out of the
city than they’ve been before.
“Yup.”
“They pushin’
shit?”
Hawk raised a
brow. That was enough of an answer for Pierce. He muttered, “Shit.”
Dex spoke up. “Last
thing we need is them runnin’ drugs or guns through Shadow Valley. Don’t want ‘em
stirrin’ up the local boys in blue.”
“That’s for
fuckin’ sure,” Jag muttered. “Bad enough Axel’s always hangin’ ‘round Sophie’s
bakery.”
“That’s ‘cause
he’s sniffin’ ‘round Bella,” Ace volunteered with a frown.
“I’ll kill the
fucker,” Diesel said. The club’s Sergeant at Arms was a bit overly protective
of his cousin. Though, for good reason.
Ace looked at his
younger son. “You ain’t doin’ shit, boy.”
“We can just hurt
‘im a bit,” Hawk added.
Ace’s head swung to
his oldest and he pointed a finger towards him in warning. “You neither, boy.
Leave him be. It’ll sort sooner than later. You know better than to fuck with
SVPD.”
“But if they’re
fuckin’ with DAMC—”
Pierce jumped in.
“Let it go for now. Got enough other shit goin’ on than Axel gettin’ a boner
over Bella.”
Diesel’s body
visibly tightened and his face twisted into a scowl. Hawk crossed his beefy
arms over his chest and sat back in his chair, clearly unhappy with the order.
Though no matter
what their father or their president said, the brothers would always step in to
protect their cousin. No question about it.
And because of
that, Jag knew he had to be careful with what happens between him and Ivy,
Bella’s sister. She wasn’t quite on their radar like Bella was, but it wouldn’t
take but a misstep to put her there. And he didn’t need a hassle from either of
them.
Jag might not be a
small man and he made sure to keep in shape, but those two could pound him into
the ground before he could say “boo.” Best to stay on their good side.
Pierce leaned back
in his chair. “Maybe it’s time for a sit-down with the Knights. See if they’re
willin’ to clue us in on what their intentions are. We don’t wanna be caught
with our panties down ‘round our ankles.”
“That’s for damn
sure,” Dex said.
Ace nodded. “Agreed.”
“All in favor?”
Pierce asked.
“Ayes,” rose up
around the table.
“If they’re not
willing to chit chat, maybe we can get someone on the inside. One of Dawg’s
girls or somethin’,” Dex suggested. “Just a thought.”
“Not sure if the
Knights will easily accept an obvious stripper into their fold. But you never
know,” Pierce said. “Pick a bitch that ain’t so obvious. But they might agree
to a sit-down, we can go that route first.”
Dex continued, “If
we need a plant, it’s gotta be one loyal to the club. No doubt. We ain’t takin’
them down, we’re just tryin’ to get a little info on their territory grab. But
still need to send in snatch that ain’t gonna run her damn mouth. Not sure if
we can trust one of Dawg’s girls for that.”
“Should we even
ask for a sit-down first? Might give ‘em a heads up. Maybe send in a bitch, get
some info, then ask for a sit-down
once she’s clear,” Diesel suggested.
Pierce turned
toward Diesel. “Handle it. Talk to Dawg, see if any of his girls are reliable
enough. If not, we may have to approach this from a different angle.”
“Got it,” Diesel
grunted.
“All right, enough
of the fuckin’ bad news. This is a fuckin’ MC an’ we haven’t had a group ride
in a while so we need to get on that.” Pierce looked pointedly at Jag. “Yo Road
Captain, make it happen for Saturday. Got me?”
Jag nodded in
agreement. “Gotcha. Certainly could use it. ‘Specially now the weather turned.”
A couple “yeahs”
rose from the other members of the Executive Committee.
“Good. See it
done. Hawk, plan a roast for after. Get the bitches to put somethin’ together.
An’ get Mama Bear in the kitchen to make some good grub to go along with the
hog.”
“Done,” Hawk grumbled,
clearly still stewing about Bella and Axel.
Jag might have to
give his cousin a heads up. Axel may be a cop, but he was still blood.
“We done here?”
Pierce asked, looking around the table. When no one spoke up, he said, “Good,”
and pounded the gavel on the table.
As everyone pushed
back their chairs and filed out, Ace put a hand on Jag’s arm and tilted his
head indicating for him to hold back.
Fuck.
Ace waited until
the last member left the meeting room then turned his attention to Jag. “Brother,
you’re like a son to me, but we need to have a sit-down of our own.”
“’Bout what?” Jag
asked, but he knew.
He definitely
knew.
Ivy probably ran
her mouth to her uncle first thing this morning at the pawn shop.
“You showin’ up in
the middle of the night at the apartment.”
“Wasn’t the middle
of the night.”
Ace just gave him
a look.
Jag shrugged and
repeated, “Wasn’t.”
“No matter. You
got her all jacked up this morning. Had to hear her bitchin’ for twenty minutes
straight. What’s goin’ on between you two?”
“Nothin’.”
“Well, I know
that’s bull. No reason for you to make yourself known every time she’s got some
man in her place.”
There were plenty
of reasons, just none he wanted to spill. “That don’t bother you?”
“Not my
business."
Right. But if it
was one of the brothers doing nightly visits to Ivy’s bed, Jag just bet Ace
would make it his business. “I’m just lookin’ out for her like Hawk an’ D do
for Bella. Bein’ protective.”
Ace snorted and
shook his head. “Right.”
“Somebody’s gotta
protect our women.”
“You know Dex is
perfectly fine with watchin’ out for his sisters when it comes to that.”
“Dex don’t care
who’s crawlin’ in an’ out of their beds.”
“Then maybe you
shouldn’t either.”
Damn.
Ace continued. “What’s
your end game? ‘Cause you know I don’t want her endin’ up with a brother. Sure
as shit don’t want her endin’ up like Bella did.”
Jag blinked. “That
shit’ll never happen again. An’ it definitely wouldn’t happen with me.”
“So, you got
interest,” Ace stated rather than asked.
Fuck. He fell
right into that trap.
Nothing like looking
a man he respected in the eye and telling him that he’s interested in fucking
his niece, who was like a daughter to him. Ace might be in his fifties but he sired
Hawk and Diesel, two very big guys. And the man was no slouch himself. Plus, he
didn’t need bad blood between them, anyway.
“You got no
problem with her apartment havin’ a revolvin’ door?”
That may have been
the wrong thing to say. Ace’s eyes narrowed and his shoulders squared off.
Fuck.
“You sayin’ she’s
as bad as a sweet butt?”
Holy fuck. She
better not be as bad as one of the sweet butts, the eager women who hung around
church to service any of the brothers whenever and wherever they wanted it.
Most of them doing it in hopes of one day becoming an ol’ lady. Which, for most,
would never happen. Brothers didn’t want to make a sweet butt an ol’ lady.
Nobody wanted something permanent with what everyone else may have had.
“Not sayin’ that.”
“Good. But maybe
the door would stop revolvin’ if you stopped chasin’ every guy she dates away.”
Dates. Right.
Ace continued,
“Makes me think you’re hung up on her, Jag. Makes me wonder if I should take
that key back I gave you for an emergency.”
“Haven’t abused
that key. Always knock.”
“Yeah, probably
have to paint the door to cover up that knock
from last night.”
“You need it
painted, I’ll get it done.”
Ace lifted his
chin. “Yeah, I’ll let you know if the mark don’t come off. Then your ass can
fix your fuck up.”
Next time, he’ll
just use the key when Ivy refuses to open the door. That would really get her
going.
“She gotta gun?”
Ace’s eyebrows
rose. “Why?”
“Just askin’.”
“So, you plannin’
on interruptin’ her next time she’s got a date?”
“Yep.”
Ace dropped his
head and shook it. His shoulders moved with what looked like laughter. “Fuck,
boy. You’re lucky I like you.”
Jag smiled. “Know
it, Ace. Promise I won’t ever hurt her.”
“Better not.
‘Cause I’ll kick your ass myself. An’ I’ll kick it if you repeat this, but
somebody’s got to tame her wayward ways. She’s restless. She ain’t findin’ what
she’s lookin’ for. That’s obvious by that ‘revolving door’ you mentioned. Maybe
it’s high time a brother tried to get her to settle down.”
“So, I got your
blessin’?” Jag asked, surprised at this sudden turn.
“Didn’t say that.
An’ it all ain’t up to me.” Ace studied him for a moment with his lips pursed
and his hands on his hips, making Jag shuffle his feet uncomfortably. “You know
she don’t do bikers. That’s gonna be a hurdle right there.”
Little did he know
she already did one. Once. “Just needs to do one.”
Ace shook his head.
“Right. If she don’t want you, you gotta drop this shit, hear me? An’ then let
her figure out what she wants on her own.”
“Hear ya. Won’t be
a problem.”
“Just want her to
be happy.”
“You ain’t the
only one,” Jag murmured.
“She’d have my
nuts in a vise if she knew what we were talkin’ about.”
“No doubt. Don’t
think that nerd last night had any nuts though.”
Ace snorted and slapped
him on the back as they walked out of the meeting room into the common area of
the clubhouse. “Surprised there wasn’t a line of shit from the balcony all the
way out to his car.”
Jag grinned.
“Yeah. Wouldn’t be surprised at all if he shit his pants.”
About the Author:
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 since it gave her an escape from teenage angst! 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
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