Ridin' Dirty Read Online Free PDF Page B

strain of holding in his pleasure, so I let his cock slip from my lips and kissed my way up his body before settling on his lap. I lifted myself up, balancing on my toes, and lowered myself down onto his cock. Inch by slick, wet inch, he pressed inside me. The worn denim scratched my thighs and ass, but I was far from caring as I began a fast, jarring rhythm on Dax’s cock.
    The first time Dax had fucked me had been about learning the ins and outs of what brought us the most pleasure. We’d spent hours tasting each other until we were both exhausted.
    This was different. This was about showing Dax that I wasn’t a broken little girl who would spend the rest of her life jumping at shadows and hiding in fear from what had happened. This was about showing Dax that I was still an MC bitch who could shoot whiskey with the boys and didn’t blush at the word cunt.
    This was reminding him that I had never been a good girl, and I wasn't about to start now.
    I rode Dax hard, filling the bar with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, and the gasps and moans of our shared breath. Dax’s fingers dug into my hips as he held me steady, and I knew I’d be wearing finger shaped bruises in the morning. I liked that thought.
    I could feel my orgasm building in me, as every downward thrust hit my clit in just the right spot. Dax jerked me down, and the jarring thrust shoved me over the edge. Shuddering and shaking, I cried out his name as my inner muscles contracted around him. Dax came with a shout, filling me with heat, and we both slumped back on the chair, gasping for breath.
    Dax pushed a strand of my tangled black hair off my face, his fingers just brushing the fading bruise. Nothing else was said. Nothing else was needed.
    ***
    Girls still walk into Hades looking for a wild night and a good story. They play Russian roulette with dangerous men and spread their pretty legs for a chance to touch the colors of the 1% and ride dirty for a few hours. Dax still looks, and if she hits something primal in him, he still touches.
    I didn’t mind back in the early days, and I don’t mind now. The good girls come and come and go, but I’m still here behind the bar and, if I’m feeling wild, on top of it. After all, you fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us, and jealously has no place in the MC. I know who I belong to.
    I’m a Diablo.

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Check out the sequel to Ridin’ Dirty
     
     
    Ridin’ Dirtier
     
    The ride passed in a blur. I could smell the sharp spice of Ray’s aftershave and the warm leather of his coat, and, just like flipping a switch, I wanted him. After living a year of being used and abused by every man who wanted a piece of me, I wanted to be the one who did the choosing this time. I wanted to feel a man’s body against mine and take my own pleasure.
    This time, it was my turn to be the one doing the riding.
    Keeping one hand wrapped around his waist, the other began a slow descent. I obviously telegraphed my movement downward. The last thing you want to do is startle a man barreling down the streets at 70 miles an hour. When I reached my goal, I was surprised to find the front of his jeans already stretched. I moaned softly, and squeezed his half-hard cock.
    That explained why he was being so nice. Guess Ray had a thing for stacked blondes.
    The fear and adrenaline began receding into the background, quickly becoming overshadowed with the realization that I could have died today. I’d never dumped my bike before and the knowledge that I almost became a stain on the side of the road made me want very badly to feel