Ridin' Dirty: An Outlaw Author Anthology (OAMC Book 1) (44 page)

“Tony, Sonny needs you. He thinks Tiffany is OD’ing.

“Jesus Christ. Again?”

The brunette shrugged her shoulders and ducked back inside. Tony grabbed the door to follow, but paused nodding toward the white Mustang. “Can you make sure she gets out of here okay?”

Red Dog nodded. “Yeah, sure, man. Go.”

Tony ducked inside as a flash of lightning cracked across the sky, and the rain became a downpour. Dog watched as the Mustang’s headlights came on, and a plume of exhaust shot out the tailpipe. His gaze swung to the blue sedan. It was backed into a spot, and with the rain pouring down on the windshield Dog couldn’t make out the driver’s face, just a dark shadow. His eyes cut back to the Mustang to see it backing out and then moving toward the street and turning right out of the parking lot. As the sedan pulled from its spot, Dog darted out, moving to step in front of the vehicle. Their eyes connected through the windshield, and this time Dog could see the man’s features. He was a squirrely looking dude, but it was what Dog saw in his eyes that had his blood running cold, evil, pure fucking evil, with no emotion in them.

Red Dog banged his palm on the hood and barked, “Get the fuck out of the car.”

A twisted smile formed on the man’s face a split second before he gunned the engine, plowing into Dog. The impact knocked him off his feet and up onto the hood, where he rolled and fell to the ground as the car sped away.

Dog groaned at the pain that shot through his left leg, which had taken the brunt of the impact. But that didn’t stop him from rolling to his knees, drawing his gun and firing as the car turned right, tires squealing as it barreled off the lot.

Boom. Boom. Boom. The sound of his gun echoed off the building. A moment later, the door flew open and banged against the cement block wall as Tony charged out. He skidded to a stop, his eyes taking in Dog’s kneeling position, the 9mm clenched in his hand aimed at the street.

“What the fuck happened?”

“He got away. He’s going after her. Where the hell does she live?” Dog barked as he staggered to his feet, favoring his left leg and holstered his gun as he moved toward his bike.

Tony pulled his phone out. “Let me call her. Tell her she’s got a tail and to come back to the club.”

Dog stood there a moment, his eyes on Tony praying she’d pick up the man’s call.  Tony shook his head as he barked an order into what must have been her voicemail. “Don’t get out of the car, Sweetie. You got a tail.”

“Where?” Dog demanded, already firing his bike up.

“Royal Hill Apartments on Ocean Blvd. #814.”

Red Dog roared off the lot, heading right.

By the time he found the address and followed the maze of turns through the complex to building eight, the guy already had her by the throat pressed up against her car door, but turned his head when he heard the Harley roar up.

Dog skidded to a stop on the wet pavement.  He dropped the kickstand and dismounted, charging the man who pulled the girl in front of him and put a knife to her throat.

“Stay the fuck away or I’ll slice her,” he threatened.

Dog pulled his gun and aimed it at the man’s head. “You do, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

Dog watched as the man’s face paled, then he shoved the girl at him and took off running. Dog caught her to him as he watched the man disappear into the darkness.

The motherfucker had left his car behind; therefore he wouldn’t be hard to hunt down. Looking at the trembling woman in his arms, he asked, “You okay, China Doll?”

She nodded up at him.

“Let’s get you inside.”

Once he had her in out of the rain, he pulled out his phone and made a call to his club. That little knife-wielding fucker wouldn’t survive the night. Dog peered through the curtains to the parking lot. He’d paused long enough to slash the tires on the sedan, making sure the man didn’t return for it.

Dog let the curtain drop and turned back to see his little dancer was shaking. “You look like you could use a drink, honey. You got anything?”

She nodded towards the kitchen area where a low bar overlooked the living room and whispered, “There’s a bottle of wine in the fridge.”

The corner of his mouth pulled up. “Think we may need something a little stronger, sweetheart. Got any liquor?”

“A bottle of tequila in the cabinet over the sink.”

Dog nodded and moved off to get it. He returned to her a minute later and held out a rocks glass with a two finger shot in the bottom. “Drink up.”

She took it and downed it. “I suppose I should thank you, but I don’t even know your name.”

He took the glass from her and refilled it from the bottle he held. Handing it back to her, he replied, “My friend’s call me Red Dog.”

Her pretty little brow frowned. “Red Dog?”

He nodded, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. And you’re welcome.”

She drank the second shot. “How did you find me?”

He took the glass from her, sat on one of the barstools, and poured himself a shot. Then he told her what had happened after she’d pulled out of the club.

“Oh, my God. Are you hurt?” She took a step toward him.

“I’ll be limping for a couple days, but I’ll survive.”

“I’m so sorry.” Her eyes fell to his cut, and she nodded toward it. “You’re not the guy that usually comes around for Sonny.”

“Nope. Just my lucky night.” He tried to joke with her.

She frowned. “Where’s the other guy? Wolf.”

“He had business to take care of tonight.” Dog’s eyes narrowed. “How well do you know him?”

She shook her head. “I don’t. Not like that.”

Dog nodded. “You want me to call anyone for you? Tony?”

She shook her head again. “No, I’ll be fine.”

“Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I can assure you I’ve had stalkers before. It comes with the job.”

“And a knife at your throat? You have that before, too?”

At that she swallowed and looked away, lifting her chin. “I have a gun. I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah? And where was that gun when he had you pinned against your car?”

She looked back at him and admitted, “In my purse.”

“Where it did you absolutely zero good.”

They stared at each other a long moment, and then her eyes dropped, taking in his clothes. “You’re soaking wet.”

“So are you.” He lifted his chin at her, his eyes sweeping over her. “You should go change out of those clothes before you catch your death.”

She had on a sleeveless red satin dress, the kind with a high collar that looked oriental and suited her perfectly. As he watched she hiked up the hem, exposing a garter around her thigh. He watched her slender fingers, with their red-painted nails, slip a wad of cash free. She pulled out the hundred-dollar bill he’d given her and held it out to him. “I think you earned this back tonight.”

His eyes had a hard time pulling away from that garter to meet her eyes. When he did, he saw a hint of vulnerability flash for a moment, before the tough girl act returned, and she lifted her chin. He relaxed back. “Keep it. Told you, worth every penny.”

She dropped the hand she’d held out. “Okay, fine.”

He watched her move to a carved wooden box sitting on a shelf in a bookcase. She opened it and shoved the wad of cash that she’d taken from her garter inside. Red Dog noticed the bills joined a tall stack already stored in the box.

“You don’t seriously keep your money in that, do you?” Red Dog asked in amazement.

She glanced over at him as she closed it. “Until I get to the bank and put it in my savings account, yes.”

Red Dog noted she’d said savings, not checking. “Saving up for something special?”

She nodded.

“And what would that be?”

“Do you really care?”

“Yeah, I really care,” he replied, amazed by his own answer.

She clasped her hands behind her back and took a step toward him. “You won’t laugh?”

Red Dog frowned. “Why would I laugh?”

She lifted her chin. “I’m saving up to open a dance studio.”

“A dance studio?”

She nodded, and something in her expression conveyed to him that she wanted his approval.

“What exactly is
a dance studio?”

“I would teach children how to dance. Beginning ballet, tap and jazz dance.”

Red Dog nodded. “I thought you looked like you had real dance training.”

At the reminder of the dance he’d seen her do she looked away. But then she lifted her chin and met his gaze directly. “I’ve never seen you come around before.”

“Not my usual gig.” His eyes studied hers, his head tilting. “When did you start working for Sonny?”

“Two months ago.”

“You must do well. That was quite an act.”

Her chin came up again. “I do okay.”

Dog nodded slowly. “Hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He could see in her eyes, she didn’t know how to take him. But she wasn’t afraid of him, which most women would be. He lifted his chin.

“C’mere, China Doll.”

“I have a name.” She took a step toward him. He reached out and took her hand, pulling her to stand between his spread legs. Then his hands landed on her satin covered hips. When her eyes met his, he saw interest not fear, so he dipped his head and covered her mouth with his. She didn’t pull away; in fact she melted against him, her hands sliding up to his neck. He kissed her softly, gently, brushing her lips with kiss after kiss. But she wanted more, and she pulled his head back down each time he pulled back from a kiss, until she was following him, going up on her tiptoes to maintain the contact.

Red Dog stood, his big hands moving to her ass as he lifted her up. Her dress hiked up as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He walked her down the hallway, past a bathroom to the only bedroom. He didn’t bother with the light switch; there was enough light coming from the hall.

He broke the kiss long enough to glance around the room. A brass bed with a girly flowered comforter. It was full size, plenty big enough for her, but not near enough for him. That didn’t matter; he’d make do. He laid her across it and came down on top of her. Then one hand slid under her back reaching for the zipper of her dress. He pulled it down slowly, watching her eyes closely for any reaction, any indication that she wanted him to stop or to slow down. He saw none.

Still, he didn’t want her to feel pressured, so he rolled until she was on top, letting her have the opportunity to climb off if she’d changed her mind.

Apparently she hadn’t, because as he watched, she sat up, straddling his hips and pulled the dress over her head. His big palms slid to her waist as he took her in. Demure pink lace bra and panties hit his eyes, more feminine than sexy, but perfect with her pearly skin and long dark hair that fell in a sheet over one shoulder. He reached up and let the silky strands slide through his fingers.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured. And then he reached for her hand, bringing it to his mouth where he kissed each fingertip. “You’re not scared of me, are you?”

She stared down at him, watching intently as his mouth moved to her palm, and then she whispered, “Should I be?”

“No. Never be afraid of me, China Doll. Never.”

“Then I won’t.”

He reached up, hooked a hand at the nape of her neck and pulled her gently down. “C’mere, baby.”

When their mouths met, he rolled again, taking her to her back and lifting up on one elbow. He stared down at her, and then his eyes moved to her comforter that was now damp from his wet clothes. He grinned. “Oops.”

She turned her head to look, and they both started laughing.

“Maybe you should take off your wet clothes,” she suggested.

He grinned and lifted off her to stand at the foot of the bed and strip.

“Sexy,” she teased. “But slower, hot-stuff. Shake that ass. I’ve got some dollar bills in my purse. Maybe I should get them.”

“Think that’s funny, baby doll? You like to tease, do you?”

He finished quickly and came down on top of her, pinning her to the bed. He silenced her laughter with a kiss. And then his eyes fell on a vase on her nightstand. It was filled with peacock feathers, which reminded him of the dance she’d done. He leaned across her, stretching out an arm to grab one. Then he brought it to her skin, dragging it slowly across her breasts and belly.

She giggled and squirmed.

“Shh, hold still now, baby.” She quieted, and he continued his journey down to her toes and back, his eyes watching the tiny goose bumps that formed wherever he touched. “You like this?”

She tossed her head on the pillow, trying to hold in her laughter. “It’s torture.”

He grinned. “You’re the one with the feathers next to your bed, not me. Besides, you gave me all kinds of ideas with that fan act of yours.”

“You didn’t like it?”

“I loved it. Sexy as hell.” He put his head in his hand, his elbow in the bed and continued tormenting her waist and breasts with the feather. “Know what I liked best?”