Down & Dirty: Jag (Dirty Angels MC, Book 2)
By Jeanne St. James
Genre: Steamy
Contemporary Romance, MC Romance
On sale for $2.99 for a limited time or FREE on Kindle Unlimited!
Amazon: http://amzn.to/2wjlEZg
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:
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.
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
for her newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup
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