Dirty Deeds (Get Dirty #3)

Shane mock-growls, pressing his hips up into me and adding to the sensation as his stiffy nestles between my cheeks and we both hum happily. “I didn’t say quick. I said a kiss.”

He’s teasing, but the gravel in his voice sends jolts to my core. I swirl my hips again, letting him feel the heat and wetness he’s building in me, and the tingle runs up my body to make me whimper. Shane grabs behind my neck, pulling me down to meet his mouth in a punishing kiss, his tongue licking along the seam of my lips, demanding entry.

With a moan, I grant him access, twisting my tongue with his, needing more. Forget the time. Forget the miles we need to roll. Fifty miles or whatever aren’t going to make a huge difference. What is going to make a difference is the huge hardness pressing against my butt that I need inside me again. I lift my hips, trying to impale myself on his dick, but he stills my movements with strong hands on my thighs.

Breaking our kiss, he looks up, his chest heaving in the space between us. “Fuck, Angel. You’re killing me. We really do need to leave. Tonight, I promise.”

I whimper, hips pumping in the air as I try to push back. I can nearly feel the heat of his head against my lips. “We can be fast.”

His dick jumps at my words, the tip touching my soaked lips, and we both groan. “Shane.”

I’m pleading, something I would swear I’d never do, but right now, I need him filling me more than I’ve ever wanted anything.

With a growled curse, he pulls me down hard, sliding into my wet core easily and pumping fast and deep. “You want my cock, Maggie?” he asks in between each hard thrust. “We’re in fucking danger. You get that, right? But all you want is my cock, isn’t it?”

I throw my head back, my nails digging into his chest leaving little half-moons where I grab for purchase. I drop my hips in time with him, our bodies meeting in slaps that shake me to the very center of my body. “God, yes. Shane, fill me up. I want it.”

I want it . . . and I want so much more. I know we’re not being logical, and I’m normally a very safe girl.

But any concerns I might have are obliterated as Shane smacks my ass hard, the sound ringing out in the quiet room. “Such a bad girl. I said a kiss and look what you’ve done to me, Angel. I can’t help but give you everything you want.”

I cry out, the thickness inside me and the heat on my ass getting me so close to the edge. “I love being bad. With you. For you. You just feel so good inside me . . .”

The honesty in my words make Shane surge even harder, thicker. He thrusts powerfully, slamming deep in my core and I cry out. “Ahhh . . . Yesss . . .”

Shane groans. “That’s it. Show me how your good girl pussy can take me like a bad girl. My bad girl.”

It doesn’t take long, my cries mixing with Shane’s continued dirty words until I scream, clamping down around his hips. “I’m coming . . . God . . . Shane!”

Shane jackhammers into me, holding my hips still and forcing me to take his punishing thrusts as I spasm in his hands, the waves washing over me. “That’s right, come on my cock. Squeeze that tight pussy and milk me. I’ll give you everything you want.”

I tense my muscles in time to his strokes, and he groans, losing the rhythm as I feel his hot cum filling me. I take over, slowly rolling my hips up and down to take him, coating him with a mixture of our orgasms and pulling every last drop from him as he shudders. It’s warm, intense, and I feel emotions bubbling up inside me even as I feel the first drop of his cum squeeze out of my pussy to roll back down his shaft.

I lean forward, pressing our chests together, and Shane surprises me with another smack, to my other cheek this time. I wail in surprise, my muscles clenching against him once more.

Shane chuckles darkly, his eyes sparkling. “Mmm, I’ll have to remember how tightly you squeeze me when I spank you, but we really do need to go.”

I grin down at him, happy I got my way and knowing he got his way too. I give him a soft kiss, stroking his face and nodding. “Okay, let me rinse off and we’ll go.”

He grabs a handful of my mess of hair. “Oh, no, Angel. Bad girls don’t have time to take a shower. You’re gonna ride in that car all night, feeling me between your legs, knowing that cum you so desperately wanted is deep inside you. That you’re marked by me.”

He runs his thumb along my neck, and though I haven’t looked in a mirror since our session last night, I can feel that there’s a heck of a hickie glowing on the pale skin there. It makes me tingly inside, proud that he wanted such a visible sign of what we did.

I smirk, running my fingertips along the claw marks on his chest, knowing I’m not the only one marked. “All right, Bad Boy. But then that goes for you too. You’re gonna have my scent all over you tonight too.”

He grins, wiggling his hips and sending another little tingle through me. “Maggie, I would happily smell like your sugar anytime you’ll let me.”

The sweetness of the moment is short-lived because as we head out to the car in the golden setting light, I see a familiar face heading our way. Pulling hard on Shane’s hand, I point. “Shane, that’s the hitman.”

Shane follows my finger, seeing the large guy who has already spotted us. We duck and try to make our way through the cars in the lot, shuffle-running toward ours as fast as we can.

No luck, though, as the window in the car next to us shatters violently. “Get down!” Shane yells, shoving me to the ground. The rough pebbles bite against my palms and against my cheek, but that’s nothing compared to the fright racing through my body as I scramble behind a tire, hoping I’ve got enough to protect me.

Seeing that I’m listening, Shane pulls a gun out of his waistband at his back. What the ‘fridgerator? I didn’t even know he had a gun! Has he been carrying that thing this entire time and I just didn’t notice?

Popping his head up from between the cars, Shane aims toward the hitman and fires, his shot much louder than the first. Shane fires off three more shots and I hear glass breaking again. “C’mon!” Shane growls, grabbing my hand and pulling me up, placing it on his waistband at his back, right where the gun had been.

He starts to walk carefully but quickly, leading me toward our silver sedan as his head stays on a swivel, scanning in the direction of where he shot. Pffzt . . . pffzt . . . two shots whizz by us from behind, more air whooshing than a bang, and somewhere in my head, I realize the hitman has a silencer on his gun while Shane’s is ringing loudly as he fires back again.

We sprint, reaching the car in a second that feels like an eternity. Shane yanks the passenger door open and shoves me in, still looking for the hitman. “Stay down.”

It’s silent for a few seconds that feels like forever, until the driver’s door opens and I see Shane again. I start to sit up when I hear the pffzt sound once again and Shane grunts. “Fuckfuckfuck.”

“What happened?” I ask, but Shane just slams his door, jamming the keys in the ignition before peeling out.

From the floorboard, I stare at Shane, who seems angry, but in control, nowhere near the basketcase-in-shock that I currently am. “Shane?”

His eyes cut from the rearview mirror to the road in front of him twice more before he looks down at me. “You okay? Are you hit?”

I shake my head, wanting to get up but afraid to move from my protected little hole. “No. I’m okay, but what—”

He takes a turn fast, throwing me toward the door, and then another, throwing me forward into the seat, where I plant my hands. His eyes flick their circle again, rearview mirror, front windshield, then me. “You can get in your seat now. Buckle up.”

I quickly do as he says, immediately looking out the side mirror behind us. “Is he following us?”