Dirty (Dive Bar, #1)

by Kylie Scott

“Yes.” She grinned. “Did you really grow up in a barn? I think living in a barn would be fun.” This. This is what comes from letting stuck-up rich bitches influence the young. Chris’s sister was a prime candidate for stick-up-the-ass removal. His whole damn family was, for that matter. “No, honey,” I said. “I didn’t. But I bet your momma would feel right at home among cows.” “Moo.” She laughed merrily.

“You touch any of my stuff?” he asked. “Take anything?” “Yes, your sofa is cunningly hidden down the front of my dress. You won’t believe where I fit the TV.”

Christ, the holes in my stockings were huge. On one side, my entire foot stuck out. So screwed.

Me relaxed resembled an oily hair and sweatpants party for one.

“I just wanted to say thanks again for being so understanding about all this,” I said.

“Sure,” he told my boobs. “You’ve been great.” “Mm.” “Other people wouldn’t have been so understanding.” “Assholes,” he said, lips pressed tight in disapproval. I’m sure my breasts appreciated his support immensely.

The weight atop my head shifted and then my towel turban disappeared. Straggly damp blond strands feel around my face. I sat up, pushing back the whole mess. “Sorry,” he said, throwing the towel in the general direction of the kitchen counter. “I was trying to give you a comforting pat on the head.” “Thanks.” A pause. “No straight guy could stay away from that rack,” he said quietly. “Just saying.” “Not everyone’s a tit man.” “Well, they should be,” he scoffed. “Breast is best.”

Curiosity over him owned me. I wanted to wander around inside his mind, fondle his hot body. Things along those lines.

My humiliation was complete. I stared off into space, visions of Chris’s bloody severed penis dancing through my head. Violent tendencies weren’t my natural setting. Chris, however, had all but walked me to the edge of reason and pushed me over. Garden shears would be wonderful. Also an ax. I bet axes were awesome for working out aggression. Probably fantastic for building upper body strength too. Hooray for multitasking.

“You’re defending him? Seriously?” I gaped. “Fuck no, of course not. But you jilting him, how do you think that’ll go down with the pack of uptight assholes he calls family and friends, huh?” I stopped. “They never thought I was good enough for him. Me rejecting him so publicly … he’ll be completely humiliated.” “Yeah.” His vicious grin was glorious. It put the sun to shame.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea. You wanted to stay out of jail, remember?” “I want to kill him more,” I panted. “Much, much more.” “No, you’re a nice girl. You follow the rules.” “Fuck nice. I want to dance on his grave!”

“This is your phone,” she hissed. “What the hell is this?” “Why, it’s your son and his bestie having sex.” Behind me, Chris made a strangled sound. It warmed my cold hard soul.

“No, it’s not impossible. You see, Samantha, when two men really love each other and have some lubrica—”

“You did this somehow.” “Me?” I scoffed. “Right. So what … I bought a strap-on, dressed up as Paul, and somehow convinced Chris to let me peg him on camera?”

The fuckers. Chris turned to face me, oblivious as to my intent. Or perhaps not entirely. He tried to raise a hand, but too late. With fingers curled tight and muscles tensed, I swung. My fist drove into his perfect straight nose with awesome aim. Pain resonated up my arm as blood gushed from his nostrils. Man, there was a lot of it. Niagara would have been jealous.

“Oh good,” said Vaughan in a dry voice. “You found tequila.”

“Absolutely. Life is short, Vaughan.” I grinned. “And short or not, I intend to get one.” “One what?” “One life. Just the one. I’m not greedy.” “Right.” The dude did not look convinced. Gosh, I liked him. He was so pretty. He and his cock were the highlights of my day. After a few more drinks, I might even tell him in great rambling detail. What fun. Wonder if he’d let me take a picture for my wallet. Of his face, of course.

“They will, however, be taking restraining orders out against you,” said Andy “Restraining orders?” Wow. It almost made me sound dangerous, like some thug or something. Like I roamed the streets of Coeur d’Alene just looking for people to punch in the nose.

My green silk blouse hung high in a tree and it wasn’t alone. God knows how she’d gotten it all up there. Unleashed her flying monkeys, perhaps?

Loved the way the tongue and mouth slogan stretched over my assets. Such a tasteful statement.

(Chris would have been appalled. Fuck you, Chris.).

“This petty bullshit is the worst she can do. Ignore it. You’re better than this.” “I don’t know. Given half a chance, I’d really like to shoot her out of a cannon and forget to put up the safety net.” “That seriously the best you could come up with?” “No. Give me more time. It’s early.” Sweet baby Jesus, his laugh. It was so low-down and dirty. I hadn’t even said anything worthy of such a sound.

“And bring Lydia with you.” “Why?” “I like her. She didn’t mortgage my childhood home.”

Bitches be everywhere.

“Nothing wrong with a man admiring a fine female chest. But if you disagree, feel free to hold it against me.” I rolled my eyes.

Oh, no. Wait. My mistake. They were checking out Vaughan in his tight jeans. Fair enough. His ass was a work of art.

I snapped to attention, spluttering, “What?” “You keep watching him.” “I do not.” “Oh god, yes, you do,” said Nell. “Tell her, Boyd. It’s kind of nauseating.” Boyd didn’t even bother looking up from the pot he was stirring. “He saved my big butt yesterday. He’s my friend and this is his first night on a new job,” I said, trying my best to be nonchalant, noncrazy. “I want him to do well, that’s all.” The redheaded woman raised a single brow. “Fine.” I took a deep breath. “Nell, I hate to be the one to have to tell you this. But your brother is hot. Like smokin’ hot. Honestly, it’s kind of impossible to have a vagina and not look.”

He moved forward, looming over Nell. It was kind of impressive how little fear he had for his life.

Looking amused, Vaughan straightened. He had been leaning over the front of the Mustang, doing deep and meaningful things to the vehicle’s engine.

“Nah.” I leaned a hip against the driver’s side door. “That’s just me complimenting your rear and practicing my come-on lines now that I’m swinging single again.” “I’m glad you felt my ass worthy of your attentions.” “No problem.” “And I want you to know, minute you give me the signal and lift-up your shirt I’ll be more than happy to give your breasts all the best lines I’ve got.” “That’s sweet.”

Tall, lean, and firm in all the right places, Vaughan Hewson was a girl’s wet dream. Luckily I respected him for his mind.

my loins Vaughan-addled. That’s a medical term.

Outside, with the exception of the occasional horny bug sending out its booty call, silence reigned.

They did the manly chin-tip thing then got to work. If the fight had been between women, I’m pretty sure hostilities would have carried on for months. Which just goes to prove my point regarding women being the superior species, and having more commitment to things in general. We stick.

“All good?” asked Vaughan. “All good.” I looked between him and Joe, smirking just a little. “How’s fight club going, boys?”

“Can’t talk about it,” mumbled Joe.

Betsy stared at me, mouth open. I’m reasonably certain a bug flew in. Oops.

“Something you need to know,” he said. “Before tonight.” “What’s that?” “I put out on the first date,” he told me with a perfectly straight face. “That okay with you?” “Oh, I’m counting on it.” My face might have been aflame, but then so was the rest of my body. “I mean … it would have been so awkward if you expected me to respect you for your mind or something. Yikes, how embarrassing. Between you and me, I’m really only interested in getting into your pants.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “I’m sure you’re a nice guy and all but, priorities, you know?” “I know.” The man’s smile would have made a nun think twice. I never stood a chance. The way it lit his eyes seemed more magic than biology. “All right then.”

“Huh,” I said, because I’m an intellectual genius like that.

“It’s staying on.” “But atmosphere!”

“Are you going to finish your story?” Anything to distract him from my body issues was a good thing. “Yes.” He stood once again, rubbing his fingers over the palms of his hands. “Where was I?” “Her, starting to get a little angry. Me, breasts.” “’Course.” With a hand beneath each, he took their weight, lifting them gently. “Fuck.” I had nothing.

God, I wish he’d get closer. Inside me would be good.

Lubricant factories would have been envious.

Seriously, who’d have thought salvation lay hidden in Vaughan’s pants? Not me.

Licking here, nibbling there. What a nice man.

“What? No,” I said, voice panicky. “I can’t. I have the black plague.”

So while the sane part of my head was saying things like “it’s only temporary” and “take it easy,” the crazy part was shouting “ooh look, it’s Vaughan, he’s so pretty and shiny and makes you feel good” and “jump on the man, for fuck’s sake.” And that part was much, much louder. Crazy was a bit of a whore, god bless her. At any rate, my body was at war. Chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream would hit the spot. Insert heavy sigh here. “What was that for?” asked Vaughan. “Ice cream.” “Right. We don’t have any.” A pause. “I think there’s some of Nell’s flourless chocolate cake in the fridge. Will that do instead?” “I suppose so.” God, life was so hard.

Then he moved his thumb away. It was the saddest thing ever. The back of his hand brushed against me, doing something. Without his interference, my underwear slid back over, a line of elastic dissecting my swollen labia. Not cool.

A dancing bottle of drugs waved its arms back and forth. What the ever-loving fuck?

“Do something for me?” I asked. “What?” “If you honestly believe there’s a chance I had sex with Eric tonight, be a good boy and shove that guitar where the sun doesn’t shine.”