Rough Stuff (Dirty Bad Things Book 3) Page 13

  Trust me, I’m no porn star, even if I do have the equipment of one. But when the Moretti crime family comes calling to collect on a debt I owe, they want it in trade.

  You see, there’s big money in dirty movies, and the more real, the better. Me? I’m already filthy, damaged goods from my time in Afghanistan.

  But then I meet Rose, my “co-star”, and my whole world shatters.

  She owes the Moretti’s too, but she’s too good for all of this. Too sweet, too beautiful - too innocent for this shit. And I’ll be damned if I let them steal that away from her.

  It’s wrong that she’s here, but it’s also wrong that she wants me to “teach her” things. It’s worse that I want to.

  But one taste of her lips, and I’m hooked. One touch of her soft skin, and I know Rose is going to be mine. Not the camera’s. Mine.

  The virgin with the debt, the ex-marine with the dick, and a porno for the mob.

  Welcome to Vegas, baby.

  *Please note that while a connected storyline, each of the Dirty Bad Things books are completely standalone stories centered around one couple, with no cliffhangers or spoilers.

  Dirty, filthy, and oh-so-sweet, with an utterly obsessed alpha hero, explosive insta-love, and enough kindle-melting steam to make you sweat. Get ready to get wrong in the right kind of way. HEA with NO CHEATING!

  Chapter 1

  Dylan

  "You know, you really shouldna come back here, dumbass."

  I grunt as the fist sinks into my gut.

  Yeah, he's probably right, but it's not exactly like I had much of a choice. Joey's fist slams into me again, and I groan, straining against the two knuckle-draggers holding me back.

  "Aww, you know it's just that I missed you so much, Joey."

  I grin, blood trickling down from the corner of my mouth as he sits back and arches a brow at me.

  "Cute."

  "Well damn, Joey. You sure know how to flatter a guy."

  The grin fades from his gorilla face, and suddenly, that fist is slamming into my face.

  Worth it.

  "You know what? It's that fuckin mouth of yours that got you into this shit in the first place, dipshit," Joey hisses. His knee jerks up and catches me in the abs, doubling me over as his two goons chuckle.

  The mouth hasn't exactly helped things, but technically speaking, losing two million dollars of Gino Moretti's money that I was supposed to protect is what's gotten me into this shit. That and being the guy still standing when Gino's other guard is lying in a fucking morgue. Yep, if I were a betting man, I'd say those are most likely the reasons I'm in the basement of The Venetian restaurant in downtown Las Vegas getting the shit knocked out of me by this fucking douchebag.

  Except, taking some of Joey Luco's pussy-assed punches isn't exactly my biggest worry right now. Gino might be a rich fucking guy, but no one loses two mil and is happy about it. In a fair world, these guys would get that shit happens, especially when you're hauling illegal cash around in a town like this, two other families vying for control of The Strip.

  In a fair world, my entirely true story about Vinny — the other guard — turning his gun on me as soon as the heist started to go down would explain why it was one of my bullets that put him in that morgue. In a fair world, my explaining that Vinny was most likely in on the theft would be listened to.

  But then this is not a fair world. And Vinny was a made guy. And on top of all of that, the Moretti crime family isn't exactly known for being rational.

  So here we are.

  "Yep, that fuckin mouth of yours," Joey spits, sinking his fist into my stomach.

  Somehow, through the pain, I force myself to grin at him.

  "The fuck is so goddamn funny."

  I chuckle. "I was just thinking it was ironic that you put it like that."

  Joey's thick, gorilla like brow furrows even deeper. "Yeah? Why's that, funny guy?"

  I know pushing the buttons of a guy like this is a stupid move, but really, I can't help it.

  "Because your mom was just saying the same thing to me last night, but I really think she mean it in a different—"

  Joey's fists rain down on me, but I'm still laughing even as he splits my lip and doubles me over all over again with a huge punch to my mid-section.

  "Hang on."

  Joey hits me in the mouth again before the voice from somewhere behind him booms a little louder.

  "Jesus fuck, Joey, I said hang the fuck on!"

  The fists stop, and I groan, sagging against the two guys holding me up. Yep, that was dumb. Still worth it though.

  “Dylan, Dylan, Dylan.”

  I know the voice, and when I look up, it's exactly who I knew it'd be.

  Nico Moretti, Gino's dipshit nephew and second in command of the Moretti family out here in Vegas. In a weird twist, I actually went to high school with Nico, back before I enlisted in the Marines, back before he grew into his uncle's second in command, and obviously back before all this shit went down.

  I thought he was a fucking prick back then. Now, he's even worse.

  "Well well well, Dylan,” he snickers, shaking his head at me. "You fucked up pretty hard this time."

  I could go through the whole explanation again — about the other truck pulling up alongside ours outside the warehouse that was supposed to be secure. Or about Vinny pulling his Glock out and leveling it at me before I dodged and put a bullet in his chest. But I know it won't make a difference. Whoever stole their cash is long gone at this point, and since I'm the only guy left, with a made guy dead, I might as well be the guy to blame, right? Mob logic for you.

  "You know, that money was my uncle's, but it was earmarked for a special project of mine."

  I say nothing. Joey might be a knuckle-dragging gorilla who’s fun to antagonize. But Nico is something different. Nico's a special kind of evil.

  "You know what though, asshole?” He smiles his evil little rat-like grin. "I'm gonna do you a favor. Anyone else in your shoes? Yeah, I'd let Joey here beat the ever-loving shit out of you before we dumped your ass in the desert. But..." He grins wider. "Seems there are some rumors about you."

  I raise a brow.

  "Oh?"

  "Oh yeah," he chuckles. "Rumors that catch my and my uncle's interest, especially with this new project of mine I've got goin on."

  My frown only deepens.

  "And this rumor is…?"

  Nico grins.

  "I heard you got a big cock."

  Joey and his two goons snort. I just arch a brow at him.

  Okay, he's not wrong, it's just a fucking weird ass direction for this conversation to take.

  "Excuse me?"

  Nico chuckles as he pulls a pack of cigarettes out his jacket pocket.

  "Your dick, douchebag. I heard you've got a big one."

  "And that has your interest?"

  Nico shrugs and nods at Joey's henchmen. "Let him loose."

  Joey starts to protest, but Nico shoots him a glare. "Relax, he's not off the hook. My uncle just has other plans for him." He turns and gives me an evil smile.

  "He's gonna pay us back in trade."

  I very quickly do not like the direction this is taking.

  "Look, Nico, no offense man, but I don't swing that wa—"

  "Oh fuck off, that's not what I fuckin' meant," he growls, his face darkening before he glares at me. "You a fan of the porno's, Dylan?”

  "What?"

  "Porn, dipshit. Jerk-off flicks. You a fan?"

  "I prefer an actual woman."

  He rolls his eyes. "Yeah no shit. But a man's gotta snack between meals, right?"

  I don't answer.

  "So, we're not putting a bullet in this asshole?"

  Joey looks legitimately upset. Nico just shakes his head though.

  "Nope. Not yet anyways. Mr. Horsecock here is gonna be a big star for us." He lets that slimy grin of his sink into me, making my skin crawl.

  "That new project of mine? I'm opening a porn studio. The
money is huge, and with the right talent, you can strike fucking gold. And you, my friend — you and that big dick of yours are gonna be my talent."

  This time, I'm the one that snorts. "Like hell I am."

  "There's always option B."

  "Which is?"

  Nico shrugs. "You're not gonna like option B. Option B is Joey and me takin' you out to the desert, burying you up to your neck, and then using your fucking lips as a golf tee."

  Joey chuckles and Nico grins at me.

  "So, I think it's fair to say that smiling for the camera and gettin’ your dick wet is a slightly better deal, don't you think?"

  I grit my teeth, narrowing my eyes at him and saying nothing.

  Behind Nico, far across the empty, dingy basement, there's a knock on the big metal sliding door.

  "Yeah," Nico hollers over his shoulder. "Come on in."

  He glances back at me as the door slides open.

  "Trust me, fuck-o, you're going to enjoy yourself."

  The door opens, I look up past him, and suddenly, my whole fucking world goes still. Time stops, my heart skips a beat or three, and every cell in my body comes alive in ways they never have before.

  One look at the girl who steps into the room, and I know I'm a goner.

  She's an angel. Rich, chestnut hair falls in slight waves around her petite shoulders. Big, bright blue eyes that I can see shining even from all the way over here. A sexy, slight body and soft curves in every place they should be. Fair, unblemished skin and long legs looking insanely good in that little red dress.

  She's fucking gorgeous. It's not in a sexy pinup way — not in some overtly sexual way where she's flaunting what she's got and oozing sex appeal. Even with that stripper dress and the fuck-me heels, there's something wholesome about her — like the dress and the shoes are some gaudy costume she's put on. No, it's the opposite. She's gorgeous in this quiet, elegant, innocent way, and hell if my cock doesn't throb to life between my legs.

  "Hey Mikey, I think he likes it," Nico quips, elbowing Joey in the arm and chuckling. “Dylan, say hello to your co-star."

  No way.

  There is no fucking way this girl is some sort of porn star — not with that innocent, wide-eyed softness to her — not without the hard edges and broken seams that a life in an industry like that would do to her.

  "Who is she?"

  She doesn't belong here. It's so obvious it hurts, even if here she is, standing across the room and giving me furtive, quiet glances before quickly darting her eyes away. And the more I look, the more I can't look away. The more I lose myself in her, the hotter this feeling grows in my chest, until it's threatening to explode.

  "The hell difference does it make? She's here to a make a movie with you. That's all you need to know."

  Mine.

  It's primal, and fucking caveman as hell to think it, but it's the only thought that thunders through my head as I completely lose myself in her. She looks up, and when those big blue eyes lock with mine, it's like everything else around us just disappears.

  I want her, more than I've ever wanted anything in my entire life. It's instant, and like a bomb going off inside of me, but I know without a second's hesitation that I want every single part of her.

  She's going to be mine. Not for Nico. Not for Gino. Not for the cameras, or to settle whatever bullshit score they've got on me. No, she's going to be mine and all mine, for me.

  Thirsty for more? Find the full story right here!

  Sneak Peek: Pretty Dirty

  Pretty Dirty

  My pretty little bad girl. My dirty little secret.

  Pretty. Dirty.

  And all mine.

  Heard the one about the filthy rich mob lawyer and the cam girl with the broken past?

  Yeah, me neither. But you’re about to.

  I wasn’t looking for temptation, but I sure as shit found it. Young, fiery, dirty. The ink and the piercings. Those scars, just like mine. One look at Zoe, and I’m hooked. Addicted. Obsessed.

  So I bought her. Fifty grand for three weeks, and she’s all mine. She needs saving, but I’m no prince charming. And helping her means crossing my employers – the dangerous Moretti crime family that runs Las Vegas.

  But I can’t resist that sweet little body that’s begging to be claimed, or the soft, sultry way she says “harder” and “deeper”. I can’t tell her no when all I want to tell her is to get on her fucking knees and say yes sir.

  So I’ll keep her. I’ll protect her. She thinks she’s broken. I know she’s perfect. And I’ll stop at nothing to keep her safe.

  I found her by accident. I’m keeping her by choice.

  *Please note that while a connected storyline, each of the Dirty Bad Things books are completely standalone stories centered around one couple, with no cliffhangers or spoilers.

  Dirty, filthy, and oh-so-sweet, with an utterly obsessed alpha hero, explosive insta-love, and enough kindle-melting steam to make you sweat. Get ready to get wrong in the right kind of way. HEA with NO CHEATING!

  Chapter 1

  Gray

  The computer chimes, and my dick hardens.

  She’s on. Finally.

  I can feel my muscles tensing, my jaw tightening as I drop the rest of my paperwork onto my kitchen counter. I cross the big loft space, the neon lights of Vegas glittering through the half-shut blinds as I move towards my desk and the large computer monitor set up there. I sit, my blood turning to fire in my veins and my cock throbbing rock hard between my thighs. I grab a remote off the desk and click it fiercely, and the blinds shut the rest of the way automatically.

  I wake up my computer, the growl holding in my throat as the screen turns on. The website’s already loaded and ready, and her camera’s already on, though it’s still of her empty bedroom. But she’ll be on soon.

  Soon.

  My cock aches in my pants, and I reach for my zipper before I stop suddenly and shut my eyes tight.

  What in the fuck is wrong with me.

  It’s not the first time I’ve asked it of myself. Hell, it’s not the tenth time I’ve asked it, or the fucking hundredth at that. And I still don’t have any answers for myself except the obvious: what’s wrong with me is her. What’s wrong with me is young, blonde, covered in the most beautiful tattoos I’ve ever seen, and about to appear on camera for me — for me, and only me. She’s about to smile that wicked smile that triggers all sorts of wrong in the right kind of ways in me. She’s about to show me every inch of her inked-up, pierced, gorgeous skin — those cute little tits with the soft pink nipples, and her tight, firm ass.

  She’s going to spread her pretty little legs and show me how wet she is. She’s going to use two fingers to spread her soft pink pussy lips apart and show me how fucking tight that gorgeous little cunt is.

  And she’s all mine.

  My obsession. My lust.

  My fucking problem.

  It’s been like this for the last two weeks, and I can’t fucking stop. I’ve been ignoring friends. I’ve been ignoring work, and in my business and with the people I do business with, that can be dangerous. Fatally so.

  I’m not going out. I’m thirty-two years old, single, and I’m in peak physical condition from years in the Marines. I’m rich — not Buffet or Gates rich, but I’m not going to go hungry anytime soon. I live alone in two-and-a-half-thousand square feet of insanely expensive real estate, twelve stories above the Las Vegas Strip.

  The point is, going out is exactly what I should be doing. I’m not conceited, but I recognize how women look at me. And going out, finding those women, and bringing them up to my condo to fuck them with a view of the Bellagio and Caesars Palace is what I should be doing. And yet, that hasn’t appealed to me in longer than I can remember. Instead, here I am — sitting in the dark, waiting for her to come on screen so I can tell her exactly what I want her to do.

  Blonde, blue eyes, soft, delicate pale skin. Tattoos — and not just trendy shit like a feather or fucking “sisterhood�
�� in Chinese or whatever. This girl has serious ink. And piercings. And scars. I’ve got some of those myself.

  Young, dirty, sexy, and so fucking untouchable. Literally.

  The perfect little bad girl.

  My perfect little bad girl, all on high-def camera, and all for me.

  …Something's very wrong with me.

  How does a man like myself end up stroking his cock to a cam girl online? Surprisingly easily, actually. This all started two weeks ago, when my sister Callie dropped by for a visit with Jack, the ten-year-old she nannies. When I was ten, we didn’t have the damn internet or any of this shit. But ten-year-olds now are fucking tech wizards, apparently, because it took Jack all of three minutes while Callie and I were out on my terrace to visit about a million porn sites on my computer. The hardcore fuck-film blasting at full volume over my Bluetooth speakers put the kibosh on that shit, but not until Jack had gotten my internet history as filthy as goddamn possible.

  Cleanup and damage control was a bitch afterwards. I’d been signed in to my goddamn Facebook page, and Jack had decided to “like” all sorts of weird shit on his pornographic safari. Thankfully, I barely even use Facebook, so I basically have no friends on there who would’ve seen any of this. But it was still awkward to go back and delete the “Grayson Channing liked ‘big titted MILF latex gang bang’” posts on my wall. Luckily, my buddy Roman was the only one who “liked” any of it.

  Asshole.

  I’d cleaned the whole history and run a virus scan three times on my setup before I noticed the minimized window. I’d enlarged it, rolling my eyes at the giant pink “Heartthrob Cams” logo on the site, with some vapid, plastic looking chick bent over and spread-wide behind the lettering. Honestly, I’m not sure it was hearts they expected to be “throbbing” with the “O” in “Heartthrob” centered over her asshole.

  I’d had every intention of quitting out of the window and cleaning my damn history again, when suddenly, a new stream had come up on the site, and a face filled the screen.