Dirty Deeds (Get Dirty 3)

Marco reads the note and nods, knowing that my request isn’t directly to him, but to Dominick. His club, his rules, but for something like this, Dominick will definitely agree with my assessment of the appropriate response.

Pocketing my note, Marco turns to Meghan. “You okay, sweetheart? You look pale. Need something a little more than just ice water?”

She shakes her head, then seems to reconsider. “Can I have a scotch? Just a little sip to settle my nerves?”

It’s part of Meghan’s magic. Here she is, scared out of her mind, and I swear she sounds like little girl who’s asking to have a sip and not get in trouble for it. Marco smirks, turning to grab a shot glass that he fills to the brim with the amber liquid before setting it in front of her.

“Don’t sip it. Just shoot it down so it can work its magic, warm you back up.”

She picks the shot up with delicate fingers, and for a moment, I wonder if this girl has ever even done a shot. If not, she’s about to be in for a rude awakening.

But she tilts it back, opening her throat and swallowing it down with ease before slamming it back to the bar top. Wiping her lips, she offers Marco a hint of a smile. “Thanks. I needed that.”

All on its own, my cock jumps right to attention in my pants, wondering if she’d swallow something of mine down her pretty little throat, and if I could put a bigger smile on her face than what the scotch has.

Fuck, I’ve gotta get my head on straight. Now is definitely not the time for me to be thinking dirty thoughts. Hell, there’s never going to be a time for me to think that about Meghan. Even if she wasn’t too damn good for someone like me, I’d break a sweet little thing like her.

Still, I can’t help but put my arm around her, mindlessly patting and rubbing her back, even though I’m treading dangerous territory for us both. “You gonna be okay? We can hang out here as long as you need,” I reassure her. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll walk you out to your car again. Make sure you’re safe. ‘Kay?”

She sighs, looking up at me, her pupils black and large behind her glasses. “Actually, do you think you could drive me home? I’m not much of a drinker, and I have a feeling that scotch is going to knock me out in three, two, one . . .”

She smiles a tiny smile, but it sounds like she’s telling the truth. This is a girl who can sling drinks like a certified pro, but one shot knocks her out for the rest of the night. And no, my dirty fucking thoughts don’t avoid the innuendo there either.

“Yeah, I can do that,” I reply, even as part of me says this is a bad move. I’ve wanted her for weeks, and my instincts are going apeshit. Bad move, Shane. Bad move.

Doesn’t matter. The smile she gives me is more than enough to overcome whatever my mind is saying. I turn to Marco, who’s cleaning the shot glass carefully. “Will you let Dominick know I’m leaving my truck here overnight? I’ll drive Meghan’s car to her house and cab it home.”

Marco gives me an evaluating look, and I again appreciate that for all his slick player persona, he’s actually a pretty solid guy and is making sure that I’m not running some game on Meghan when she’s shaken up.

I must have passed his test because he nods and sets the glass aside. “Yeah, I’ll let the boss know. Take care of her.”

With a nod, I help Meghan up. I walk her back outside, head on a swivel as I look for any threats, any sign that Miles Jacobson got a shock of courage and came back, but all seems to be quiet and dark. We make it to her car, a nondescript little thing that looks like it sort of hangs together by sheer force of will.

Meghan digs in her bag for her keys and hands them to me. I do a slight double-take as I see her keyring has a fucking pompom on it. A puffy fluff of soft fur that’s white like a rabbit’s tail. It suits her.

I hold the passenger door for her and make sure she’s buckled in before I go around. “You ready?”

“Yeah. And thanks, Shane,” she says, giving me a smile that could melt Ebenezer Scrooge’s heart. I pull out, still keeping watch for anyone who might be following us, and head away from the club, toward the main road.

“Where to?” I ask, and Meghan gives me directions to her apartment from there. As we drive, I have to admit I’m interested to see where she lives.