Shooting Dirty Read online

  “Some of them used to be.”

  She touched the tattoo on his collarbone. It said Dirty Forever, Forever Eleven in cursive script. He hadn’t considered getting the ink covered with something else. Those words were part of him, like battle scars. He might be sober, but he’d never be clean.

  “Tell me about them,” she said.

  He didn’t know where to start. “I met Cole and Rylan in Slab City. We were just boys. Teenagers.”

  “They were your friends?”

  He nodded. They’d been a pack of vandals, wreaking havoc on the trailer park. A trio of white-trash desert rats with no money, no future and no parental supervision. “After my mother disappeared, they were my family. I didn’t have anyone else.”

  “What happened to them?”

  “They moved to Indio to live with their uncle, Wild Bill.”

  “The club president,” she said.

  “He was a member of White Lightning at the time. He formed his own club after Jester raped Courtney. We all joined eventually. Cole, me and Rylan.”

  “Did you like it? Being a part of the club?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  He tried to remember the good times, before everything went sour and everyone grew up. Or got killed. “It was fun. We did a shitload of drugs, hustled card games, got in fights. Girls threw pussy at us, especially Cole.”

  Her pretty mouth twisted, as if she couldn’t reconcile this description with the sober, severe person he’d become.

  “I was a strange kid,” he said, by way of explanation. “I liked hunting and killing things. I hardly ever spoke. When I was drunk, I felt kind of normal, and I fit right in with Dirty Eleven. We were all a bunch of rejects.”

  “You don’t feel normal?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t either.”

  He didn’t like hearing her say that. It wasn’t her fault, whatever had happened to her. “Your stepfather was fucked up. Not you.”

  She fell silent for a moment, not arguing. “Where are your friends now?”

  “Rylan got stabbed last year, on the same job as Shane. Cole is in jail, or maybe he ran off with his old lady. I haven’t been able to track him.”

  Her hand wandered down his chest, tracing the happy trail on his stomach. “I’d run away with you, if I didn’t have Jamie.”

  “I can’t run, anyway.”

  “What can you do?”

  His cock lengthened against his thigh, rousing at her touch. He covered her hand with his and trapped it flat against his belly. “Bill offered me a job at the casino. I could work security for him and see Skye every day.”

  “Are you going to accept?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’d have to get rid of Jester first, and that’s easier said than done. He travels with an entourage. I’d need a whole crew to take him out.” Teamwork wasn’t Ace’s style, and the other Dirty Eleven members weren’t experienced assassins. “A gunfight would cause a club war and bring more heat on me.”

  “You’d end up in jail?”

  “I’d probably end up dead.”

  Her eyes darkened with sorrow. “Why can’t you run?”

  He draped his arm around her bare shoulders, stroking her soft skin. He couldn’t run because of her. Jester wouldn’t stop coming after her. Now that Ace had killed one of Jester’s henchmen, the danger was tenfold.

  “I got fired last night,” Janelle said, after a pause.

  “Why?”

  “Kevin said I was causing trouble in the club.”

  “You didn’t cause trouble. Jester did.”

  “Well, he blamed me and my ‘boyfriend drama.’”

  Ace narrowed his eyes at this news. “He sounds like a prick.”

  “That’s what I called him.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, pressing his lips to her head.

  “I thought you wanted me to quit.”

  “I didn’t want you to get fired.”

  “How do you feel about me dancing for a living?”

  He drew a blank. He was supposed to feel something?

  “What if I was your girlfriend, and you weren’t worried about Jester? How would you feel about it?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “You look fucking hot on stage.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It doesn’t bother you that I go topless?”

  “Should it?”

  “What about lap dances?”

  He considered the question carefully. He knew she didn’t perform nude or let anyone touch her in the VIP room, but the point was to arouse her customers, and she was very good at her job. When she’d danced for him, she’d flashed her nipples and feigned oral sex, letting her hair brush over his erection. “No. I don’t like it.”

  “So I can fuck Tiffany, but lap dances are out?”

  “Yes.”

  She smiled wryly, pushing away from him.

  He wondered why she’d asked him his opinion. He didn’t really expect her to hook up with Tiffany or to stop performing lap dances. If she was his girlfriend, he’d take care of her, and she wouldn’t have to take off her clothes for anyone unless she wanted to. But she wasn’t his, and he couldn’t control her.

  She fell silent for a moment, contemplative. “I don’t think I’ll go back to dancing.”

  “No?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not the same person I was when I started. I’m not even the same person I was when we met.”

  He wasn’t the same man, either. He’d been a cold-blooded killer a year ago, working toward an unattainable goal. Now he was still a killer, but he wasn’t as cold. She’d warmed him from the inside out.

  Meeting her had changed him.

  He laced his fingers through hers. Their eyes met and held. She studied his face as if she could see something good and worthwhile in him. And that was when the solution materialized. “I have to turn myself in.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll tell the police I was working for Gonzo Lowe.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “The former president of White Lightning. He’s dead now. I can confess to killing Shane and delivering the ransom money to Lowe.”

  “How much time will you do?”

  “A lot. I might be able to make a deal for second-degree murder or manslaughter, but I already have a criminal record. I’ll go away for years.”

  Maybe even decades.

  But he could stay alive in prison as long as he didn’t betray Bill. Loyal outlaws were feared and respected by other inmates. Ace could bargain with Bill for some extra protection against the Aryan Brotherhood. He could make arrangements for Janelle, too. She was safer now that she lived with her mother. She’d be safer with Ace gone.

  The main problem was Skye. Ace had to leave his daughter unprotected, and he could kiss his dreams of custody goodbye.

  But what choice did he have? He couldn’t go on like this. He was done with high-stakes crime and club violence.

  “I don’t want to kill anymore,” he said. “I haven’t since Shane.”

  “Because of me?”

  “Because of you, and Jamie, and Skye. I want to be a good father, and I can’t if I’m always watching my back.” He also wanted to live to see her grow up. He wanted to live, period. “Turning myself in is the only way.”

  She pulled her hand free and clutched the sheet to her chest. “I can’t wait for you.”

  “I wouldn’t ask you to.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. When he tried to comfort her, she rose from the bed, taking the sheet with her. He wished he could run away with her, but that was
n’t a good option. They’d have to bring her son along, and Ace would never feel secure. He’d rather cut off his hand than put her in danger again.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, swallowing hard. “I should have kept my distance.”

  She laughed without humor. “You think?”

  “I underestimated Jester. That was my mistake.”

  “Fuck you,” she said in a tremulous voice. “You knew you were in deep shit, and you pursued me anyway.”

  “You could’ve said no, Janelle.”

  “I didn’t realize you were this dangerous.”

  “Bullshit,” he said, jumping to his feet. “You don’t remember how we met? I used a fucking Taser on you and took you hostage. You watched me kill your ex. There was no question about what I did for a living.”

  “You didn’t tell me that your enemy had raped your last girlfriend.”

  “I warned you about him, and you didn’t listen, because you’re too fucking stubborn to let a man take care of you!”

  “Oh, I should listen to you and let you take care of me? Where would that get me? You’re going to prison for murder.”

  He cursed under his breath, unable to argue that point.

  “I don’t trust men for a reason. Every man who was supposed to take care of me hurt me, and you’re no better than the rest.”

  Ace couldn’t believe she would lump him in with a child molester and a deadbeat. He stepped forward, crowding her against the dresser. “Don’t you ever compare me to your stepfather. I’m not him, and I’m not Shane. I never hurt you on purpose.”

  “You hunted me down like an animal,” she said from between clenched teeth.

  “And you got off on it,” he said. “You agreed to go out with me because of what I did to you, not despite it. That whole captivity scenario made your pussy wet.”

  Her lips parted in shock. He trapped both arms behind her back, encircling her wrists with one hand. The sheet she’d been holding slipped to the ground between them, leaving her naked in front of him. A pulse fluttered at the base of her throat. Her cheeks were flushed, her nipples taut. His cock roared to life, throbbing with heat and anger.

  “Are you going to deny it?” he asked, lifting his gaze to her face.

  She lifted her chin, her brown eyes glittering. “Maybe you’re right. The cuffs make me wet, not you.”

  He knew that wasn’t true. It wasn’t for him, at least. Restraining her turned him on because it turned her on. He’d be hard whether she was tied down or not. Her gorgeous body made him hard, but the combination of her helpless arousal and uninhibited responses undid him. She was a puzzle that became more intriguing every time he played with her. He liked finding new ways to bind her, new ways to fuck her.

  “I make you wet,” he said in her ear.

  She shivered at his touch. “So will the next guy who ties me up.”

  He silenced her with a rough kiss, thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth. She couldn’t deny that there was something special between them. She was lashing out at him because he had to leave, and that hurt. She was afraid of what the future would hold. He was afraid, too. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to live without her.

  But he couldn’t stay and die.

  “No one is ever going to fuck you as good as I do,” he said, breaking the kiss. They were dynamite together, and it wasn’t a simple matter of compatible turn-ons. He was in love with her. Everything about them fit.

  His tongue in her mouth. His dick in her pussy. His heart in her hands.

  The belt he’d used earlier was lying on the dresser, right next to them. He let go of her wrists and boosted her up on the smooth wood surface. Then he wrapped the belt around her torso and cinched it just below her breasts, trapping her arms at her sides. She wasn’t completely immobile, but she couldn’t fight him, and it looked hot. Every type of restraint looked hot on her. He liked the cuffs, the belt, the collar...

  Fuck.

  His cock was stiff as a poker, sticking straight up. She glanced at it, moistening her lips. Yeah, she wanted his cock. Not any cock. He took himself in hand, stroking up and down while she watched.

  “Who are you wet for?”

  She just stared at him, defiant.

  “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

  Her eyes drifted shut, but her thighs were parted wide. Her pussy lips glistened in invitation, pink and pretty.

  “Who owns that sweet pussy?”

  “You do,” she whispered.

  Jesus, she was hot. “Whose cock do you want?”

  “Yours.”

  “Why mine?”

  “Because it’s...big.”

  He squeezed the base of his shaft. “What else?”

  “It fills up my pussy.”

  “Who do you need?”

  She opened her eyes. “You.”

  He gave her what she needed, driving his cock inside her. She wasn’t dripping-wet like she’d been before, just barely slick. She gasped and gripped the edge of the dresser, bracing herself for a hard ride, but her head bumped against the mirror anyway. He cursed and lifted her up. Stumbling backward, he sat down on the mattress with her on his lap, his cock still buried deep inside her.

  He liked what he saw in the mirror. His hands on her ass, spreading her cheeks. The belt around her torso. Her pussy wedged around his cock.

  Even so, he switched positions and rolled on top of her. He needed to dominate her completely, to show her who she belonged to. Although her body wasn’t ready for a fierce pounding, that’s what he gave her. He wanted her to feel it afterward. This wasn’t the time for a sweet, gentle fuck.

  He pushed up her knees and she held them for him. Then he knelt between her thighs and gripped her hips, jerking her back and forth on his cock. He worked her hot little cunt, using her roughly. Her tits jiggled from the impact and her face contorted in pleasure.

  Yes. She liked this. She liked his big, hard cock, filling her up.

  “Say my name,” he demanded.

  “Ace.”

  “Again,” he said, thrusting deep.

  She repeated his name, moaning. He panted some more dirty things about owning her pussy and cramming her with cock. He didn’t know what he was saying. He just fucked her into the mattress and rushed to a mind-blowing finish.

  She didn’t come, because he was being crude and selfish. He pulled out with a strangled groan, spurting come all over her pussy. Then he painted her tits. If he could have filled her mouth too, he would have.

  He closed his eyes, sweaty and spent. When he’d recovered his breath, he let go of his cock and studied her. She was quivering with need, her nipples hard. He pinched both, enjoying the sight of his come on her flushed skin. Then he focused his attention on her pussy, where she was really messy. He massaged his come into her smooth, bare lips. She jerked when he touched the swollen nub of her clit.

  She probably felt raw from the inside out. Sensing that a soft touch wouldn’t finish her, he plunged two fingers deep into her pussy, where she was slick and hot. He stroked her inner walls and thumbed her clit, applying firm pressure. Her stomach quivered and her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her arms bound by the belt.

  When she spread her thighs wider, straining toward orgasm, he ground his thumb into her clit. She exploded with a sharp cry, screaming his name. Her hips bucked off the mattress and her greedy pussy milked his fingers.

  He withdrew after her convulsions gentled, unfastening his belt. Instead of getting another towel, he left her warm and slippery with a mixture of fluids. Her hair was tangled, her forehead damp.

  She’d never looked more beautiful.

  He put his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her temple. “If I could stay, I would. Nothing would keep me from you.”

&nb
sp; Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes, adding to her disarray.

  He’d kill for her. He’d go to prison to protect her. He’d staked his claim on her body, but he couldn’t tell her he loved her. Declaring his feelings would only cause her more pain, and make it harder for her to move on after he was gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Janelle got ready to leave, her heart heavy.

  She needed to see her son and hold him close, to make sure he was okay. His safety was more important to her than ever. He was all she had. Losing Ace would be hard, but she’d get over it.

  She couldn’t survive without Jamie. She’d rather die.

  She didn’t know how Ace would manage in prison. He couldn’t maintain a strong relationship with his daughter from behind bars. Although his decision had begun to sink in, Janelle was still devastated by it. Going legit was the last thing she’d expected from him. Going on a rampage seemed more his style.

  The second option was no better than the first, of course. She didn’t want Ace to die. She just wanted him to stay.

  He arranged for one of his biker buddies to pick up her car at the trailer park. She waited outside with Ace, chain-smoking. He looked fucking sexy in his wrinkled T-shirt and worn jeans, tattoos flashing on his muscular arms, the leather belt he’d tamed her with around his lean waist. He was a hard-edged James Dean, a desert rat with weathered skin and ghost eyes.

  And she loved him so much, it hurt.

  She should have known better than to fall for another criminal. Shane seemed small-time in comparison, and Shane had been a convicted murderer. The love she’d felt for Shane didn’t compare, either. She was so far gone for Ace, she’d never come back.

  He’d never come back.

  She sensed a willingness to die in him. He was convinced that turning himself in was his only chance at redemption, and he was ready to pay any price. He could walk away holding his head high, knowing he’d tried to do the right thing—for his daughter.

  Janelle couldn’t feel good about his choice, even if she understood it. She didn’t like martyrs and ultimate sacrifices. She didn’t trust the law. He might get killed by Jester’s allies in prison, and how was that noble?