Dirty Deeds (Get Dirty 3)

She makes a shooing motion with her hand, swatting the air at me like I’m an annoyance. “Weren’t you just saying you would leave me? Well, go ahead. I’ve got to get ready for my shift.”

I should, I absolutely should. But I can’t walk away when she’s so mad at me. Instead, I assume my security guard stance, my feet planted firmly on the floor with my arms crossed over my chest, eyes daring her to test me. With a huff, she turns back to face her locker and rips her tank over her head.

The expanse of her back beckons me, and I want to trace the line of her spine with my tongue, make her arch beneath me as I fuck her from behind. She quickly fastens the bustier, not needing any help, and then leans forward, shimmying slightly and doing something to her tits, but my eyes are fastened on the flash of her ass again.

It’s delectable, just enough that I could massage, knead . . . and spank it until it’s bright red. It’s taut, perfect, the type of ass that could grip my cock until we’re both crying out. That peek is going to taunt me all night and for a long time to come. After slipping her heels and apron on, Meghan struts toward me looking like a fucking Valkyrie in petite-fairy form.

I hold my position, expecting her to either stop in front of me for another scathing dismissal or maybe push me out of her way. But she does neither.

Instead, she turns her body to step around me, not even brushing me with a faint touch of her skin. That stabs my heart more than anger or violence somehow. It’s a dismissal. It’s her saying that she understands and isn’t going to waste her time on me any longer.

The scent of her lingers in her wake, and with a deep breath, I draw it in, knowing it might be my last chance to savor it. I let it sear its way into my brain for the upcoming lonely nights and empty beds, when the weaker side of me gnaws at my mind and tells me I could have had the most beautiful, flawless woman I’ve ever seen next to me. Even if only for a moment.

It takes me a while to settle my nerves, and I wipe at my cheeks and forehead, dismissing the moisture on my fingers as just sweat from the heat back here.

It’s gonna be a long fucking night.

Chapter 9

Maggie

How dare he? I fume to myself as I move around the tables, catching as many orders as I can. That arrogant son of a biscuit!

Shane had me all fired up and ready to break the rules. He talked about Dominick, but I know that rule too.

The first day I worked here, before I’d even met Shane, Dominick had gone over his employee rules. Number one of which, and the one that seems the most pertinent right now, considering my wet panties, was no fraternizing between staff.

Considering what I now know about the way his eyes follow Allie’s every move, it seems a bit hypocritical. But he’s the boss, and if he wants to break his own rules, I guess he’s allowed. Although, maybe he really does just watch her from afar. Allie has never said otherwise.

At the time of my sit-down with Dominick, I’d just been concerned about getting the undercover job without his being suspicious, and the rule seemed reasonable. I totally understood, but now I’m frustrated. Shane has me so . . . darn it, all I can do is try and avoid him. But he’s a dang moving target all night, working the door, working the floor, and with those dark clothes of his, he’s like a ninja when he wants to be.

At one point, he settled into a position on the far wall, so I asked Sarah to switch sections with me, and she did, albeit with a questioning look.

I had a few moments of glee at getting away until Shane switched stations too, glaring at me as he took up his new perch. Ugh, fine. Play your games, but I’m not playing.

Even as I tell myself that, I know it’s not true. I’m pissed, I’m disappointed, but if he told me right now ‘one-time ride . . . get on’, I’d hop on his dick so fast he would see stars.

I sigh, shaking my head. Why do bad boys have to be so hot?

How is that even fair to us mere mortal girls? I mean, I know that I shouldn’t be looking at guys like Shane.

I should try to find a nice guy. One who’ll take care of himself and his family, who might not be perfect but will love me and any children we have. I need a guy who wants that too, a simple, happy life. That’s what good girls are supposed to do.