Saturday, 26 May 2018

#FirstChapterFriday: DOWN & DIRTY: AXEL by USAT #Bestselling #Author Jeanne St. James #MCRomance

Down & Dirty: Axel
Dirty Angels MC, Book 5

By USAT Bestselling Author Jeanne St. James

Genre: Contemporary Romance, MC Romance

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Welcome to Shadow Valley where the Dirty Angels MC rules. Get ready to get Down & Dirty because this is Axel’s story…

When you’re a cop, life can be complicated when the woman you love is MC born and raised...

Though the club blood runs thick in Axel’s veins, he’s despised by them for being a cop. They also hate him because his family turned their back years ago not only on the club but his brother, the president of the Dirty Angels MC. However, he's loved Bella forever, watched her marry the wrong man, one who broke her in almost every imaginable way, and yet she's still the strongest person he knows. Despite their rivaling families, he won't let anything stand in the way of making her his this time.

Bella hasn’t known anything other than alpha bikers her whole life. Her marriage to one turned into a tragedy, one that changed the rest of her life. She was never the same after that one fateful night that Axel came to save her. Though he remains on the outskirts of her life, he’s always there: watching, waiting, worrying about her. Especially when a rival MC continues to wreak havoc on all of their lives.

Like Romeo and Juliet, his family may never accept her, and hers him, but they’re both determined to tear down the wall that divides them.

Note: This book can be read as a standalone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, biker slang, cursing, some violence and, of course, an HEA. If you like alpha males who like to take charge, this book is for you.


Axel couldn’t remember the last time he’d been with a woman.
It’d been way too long, and it was all her damn fault.
Bella climbed into her purple Dodge Challenger and within minutes, pulled away from the bakery’s back parking lot.
Just like he did almost every night, Axel hit the starter on his custom Harley and headed the other direction, so she wouldn’t spot him following her. Because if she did, she’d have a shit-fit and punch him in the fucking nuts if given half the chance. And he happened to like his balls the way they were. Though, right now, they could be considered blue since he hadn’t done anything with them in a while except found relief with his own palm.
He rounded the corner and hit a side street, riding parallel to the one she was traveling. He knew where she was going. He knew exactly how she’d get there.
He only wanted to make sure she arrived safely, then he’d head home.
Like normal.
Because he had no fucking life.
Nope. He’d go home, crack open an Iron City Beer and kick his feet up to watch some TV.
And she’d go home, double lock her front door, check to make sure all her windows were secure, set her security alarm, then make something to eat and climb into bed.
Without him.
She never dated. Never brought a man home. She always went to bed alone.
Although, that should make him happy, it didn’t.
Not that he wanted her to be with another man, he didn’t. But it also didn’t give him much hope for his own chances.
Not at all.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t been trying. He had. Every chance he got. But she resisted, and she was downright stubborn.
Which was to be expected.
Tenacity ran deep when it came to the women of the Dirty Angels MC and Bella was a biker chick through and through. Born and raised within the club, she was third generation Dirty Angels MC.
Years ago, she had even married into it, became an ol’ lady, a biker’s claimed property. That day had been one of the darkest days of Axel’s life.
Although not the darkest. No, that day came later.
After the worst day of both of their lives, she became Property of No One. No longer claimed by anyone. And she shouted that to the rooftops. She made that statement loud and clear, even wearing it on her tank tops and sweatshirts. He was surprised she didnt have Crow tattoo it across her forehead.
But he didn’t want her to become his property, no.
Yes, he was a biker, but he didn’t want her to be his ol’ lady.
Yes, he rode a Harley and wore a cut, but he wasn’t DAMC.
No, he wasn’t that type of biker, even though the club’s blood ran thick through his own veins, as well.
Instead, he belonged to the Blue Avengers MC.
Because he was a cop.
Bella peeked out of the window pretending to check the latch, but in all reality, she already knew it was secure.
Axel didn’t think she knew what he did way too often, which was follow her home after she finished working her shift at Sophie’s Sweet Treats. She noticed him doing it after the trouble with the Shadow Warriors, a rival MC, had become more frequent.
Sometimes he was in his patrol car, sometimes on his sled, sometimes in his truck.
But she knew he was there.
He was always there.
He’d always been there.
She wished he’d give up.
She needed him to give up.
But no matter what she said to him, no matter how shitty she treated him, no matter how many times she’d told him to “get gone,” he never did.
Yes, he’d back off but only to give her space. He’d always be there waiting on the outskirts of her anger.
It wasn’t him. It was her.
She didn’t want any man.
Not a biker. Not a doctor. Not an accountant.
Not even Axel.
Or at least, that’s what she tried to tell herself.
With a sigh, she leaned her forehead against the window pane and could see him sitting on his Harley, the custom one Jag built for him, in the shadows just outside the circle of the street light.
He probably thought since he didn’t have illegal straight exhaust pipes that she wouldn’t hear his sled outside her house. But, hell, being raised in an MC meant she could easily recognize the deep rumble of his Harley, legal pipes or not.
So many times she’d pushed him away. But he never gave up. The man was tenacious and determined.
And as much as she wanted him, she couldn’t have him. For more reasons than one.
Sucking in a ragged breath, her nipples tightened at the thought of having her way with him just for one single night.
Only one night.
Maybe then she’d get him out of her system. And her out of his.
She needed to prove to him and to herself that this wasn’t meant to be, no matter what their bodies said.
No, she couldn’t crack that shell to let him in, even for a split second.
Her feet moved without her permission and suddenly she was at her front door punching in the security code, turning the deadbolt, and removing the security chain. Everything her cousin Diesel, the club Sergeant at Arms, had installed for her safety. Before she could stop herself, she ripped open the door.
Barefoot, she stepped out onto her front stoop, put her hands on her hips and stared directly at him.
What was she doing? Why couldn’t she fight his pull?
Within seconds, his sled roared to life and he rolled into her driveway, heeled the kickstand down, quieted the engine and stared back at her.
Without saying anything, Axel dismounted, took long strides in her direction and bumped her backwards with his chest against hers until he pushed them beyond the threshold enough so that he could slam the door shut.
Then her back was pinned against the wooden door, his chest to hers, effectively trapping her as he took her mouth.
Her lips parted on a whimper and he took advantage of this by shoving his tongue deep to explore the recesses of her mouth, to tangle his tongue with hers. She moaned as his fingers dug deep into her long, loose hair, pulling hard, imprisoning her head against the door so he could take the kiss even deeper.
A moan bubbled up from the back of her throat but he held her still, his cock hard and long as it pushed against her belly.
It had been a long time for her and she so wanted to accept what he offered but she couldn’t.
She shouldn’t.
He finally released her mouth, his breath beating rapidly against her parted lips. “Bella,” he whispered raggedly.
Then his face was buried against her neck, his tongue tracing along her throat, along the artery that pounded so violently that it might escape. She stared at his dark head, his tightly trimmed hair, as he moved farther down, brushing his lips along her skin, over the large shoulder cap tattoo that ran from the bottom of her neck and down her left arm. He kissed each colorful rose, each lily, each daisy that Crow had inked permanently into her skin in an attempt to make her feel beautiful again.
His thumbs swept lightly over her beaded nipples that pushed against her snug camisole. The one she wore to remind herself and others that she belonged to no one but herself.
As he kneaded her breasts, he pushed a knee between her thighs, separating her legs just enough to cause a rush of wetness that she hadn’t experienced in ages.
Tentatively, she brushed her fingers over the shaved sides of his head then over the slightly longer hair at the top as he murmured her name against her skin, working his way back to her lips.
After another long, deep kiss, his forehead pressed against hers and they both panted as their gazes met and held, his blue eyes darker than normal.
His fingers slipped down over her waist to her hips, then snagged the bottom of her cami, beginning to tug the stretchy fabric up her belly. As soon as she felt the air against her bare skin, she froze, turned her head to break their connection and moaned for him to stop.
He didn’t. Instead his warm fingers traced along her bare waist and up her ribs, pushing the fabric higher.
She pressed her palms against his chest and screamed, “Stop!”
He went solid, his breathing harsh, and she couldn’t bear to look at him, so she closed her eyes and let the darkness behind her eyelids calm her racing heart.
His voice was gentle, not angry, which made her heart squeeze and her chest tighten.
She shook her head slightly, still unable to look at him.
“Let me in, Bella,” he said softly.
“I can’t,” she whispered back, her voice breaking, her eyes stinging even behind her lowered eyelids. She sucked in a breath to gather her strength since she needed to be strong to turn him away, to say no to this man.
A man who knew her secrets, her past. A man who knew her better than anyone. And he shouldn’t.
Knowing what he did, he certainly shouldn’t want her.
Not only did Axel know things about her no one else did, they were complete opposites, with families that didn’t accept each other. Like the Montagues and the Capulets in Romeo and Juliet.
She was DAMC. He was a cop.
She was not accepted in his family, and he wasn’t in hers.
Her lips trembled as she repeated, “I can’t. You need to let me go. Let this go.”
He slowly smoothed her camisole back down until it covered her completely, then stepped back.
Bella mourned the loss of his solid frame, of his burning heat against her. Something that brought her both solace and anguish.
“Look at me,” he urged softly.
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and studied the man she’d known all her life, the one who looked so much like his older brother, Zak, the former president of the DAMC. Like his father, Mitch, a veteran cop.
Sadness softened his strong features as he traced a thumb over her bottom lip, admitting, “Like you, I can’t.”
A long moment later, he stepped back as his gaze raked over her, then reached for the knob. Bella quickly moved away from the door to let him leave.
Because that was the smartest thing for her to do.
Let him go.

After she heard his sled roar to life and race away, she finally took a complete breath.

About the Author:

JEANNE ST. JAMES is a USA Today bestselling erotic romance author who loves an alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing. Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages. Want to read a sample of her work? Download a sampler book here:

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