Dirty Mouth (Rock Hard Security Book 3) Read online

  DIRTY

  MOUTH

  Rock Hard Security 3

  An Older Alpha, Younger BBW Romance

  By

  Vikki Sweet

  © DIRTY MOUTH by Vikki Sweet 2019

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Cover designed by Vikki Sweet

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Don’t miss the other books in the Rock Hard Security series:

  Rich Salty Butter - Dwayne & Georgia

  Protect What’s Mine - Joe & Kelly

  Dirty Mouth - Bear & Chloe

  Everyone Loves Big D - Daryl & Faith (coming soon)

  https://tinyletter.com/vikkisweet

  Dirty Mouth

  A Sizzling Romance featuring an Alpha male and a curvy woman.

  Bear

  I’ve been going through a dry spell, if you know what I mean. Random hook ups and casual flings just aren’t doing it for me any more. I need something real. It’s time to find the one. When I meet Chloe it’s like everything falls into place. She thinks her scars make her unlovable, but I mean to prove her very wrong. She’s everything I want. Strong and wild, and curvy. I’m going to make her mine in every sense of the word.

  Chloe

  The last thing I need is a man in my life. I’ve always taken care of myself, ever since that drunk driver killed my parents and left me scarred. But after meeting Bear, all my convictions are crashing down around my ears. Falling for him is easy, not getting us both killed after I get on the bad side of a dangerous biker gang, not so much.

  Can these two misfits stop bickering long enough to realize that they are exactly what the other needs? Can they keep their hands off each other long enough to even have that talk?

  Chapter 1

  Chloe

  Wrapping my fingers around the shaft, I give it a firm twist and grin wickedly. Beneath my hands the Chopper growls and rumbles to life before settling into a steady purr.

  Okay, admit it, I’m good.

  With a satisfied smile I swing my leg over the metallic beast but before I can take it for a test-drive, there’s a loud WHOOP from the office and I hear Monster’s heavy boots running towards me.

  “You’re a fucking legend, girl,” he laughs, clapping those enormous hands and grinning like a kid at Christmas. A really big kid. “I thought maybe the old girl had ridden her last.”

  Monster stands nearly seven foot tall with long scruffy hair and a big mouth filled with way too many teeth. To anyone else he’d probably appear looming and dangerous, but to me he was always that uncle who still thought, Pull My Finger, was funny. Not that he was really my uncle exactly but he and my dad had been practically brothers their whole life.

  “Nah,” I say, running a hand over the still purring motor and seat. “There’s some spark left, just … ARRK!”

  My words are cut off when Monster literally lifts me off the bike and pulls me into the beariest of all bear hugs. I hug him back for a few seconds but since I can’t quite draw breath, my hug turns into an urgent tapping.

  “Crushing … Chloe.”

  “Fuck!” He lets go immediately and I almost fall on my ass but he grabs my arm just in time.

  “Bloody hell, Monster! You’re like a giant playing with a rag doll!”

  “Sorry,” he says with an impish smile that is ridiculously endearing coming from such a large man. “Thank you, by the way.”

  I spread my grease covered hands and manage a somewhat dainty curtsy in my stained overalls, dirty-blond hair pulled up in a loose knot.

  He straddles his newly repaired baby and runs his hands lovingly, over its rough lines and cracks. “You’re a natural, squirt. I knew keeping you around wasn’t a complete waste of time.”

  I was fifteen when our car was T-boned by a truck, the driver in too much of a hurry to stop for something as silly as a red light or a family coming home from a restaurant.

  The driver didn’t have a scratch on him. My mum and dad died instantly.

  When I woke in the hospital, Monster was sleeping in an uncomfortable looking chair next to my bed, and I had a nasty slash down the side of my face as an eternal reminder.

  After the accident, Monster had petitioned for custody but with his past criminal record and the fact that he wasn’t a blood relative, it was denied. Not surprising really, but it meant something that he tried and the group home wasn’t so bad.

  “You know, one day I’m going to start thinking about retirement.,” he says, eyeing me. “Gonna need a plucky young go-getter to take over this place.”

  I just wave him off. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about running a place like this. You should get yourself an apprentice, train him up to be your heir or whatever.”

  “I did,” he replies with a wry smile. “And I thought I was training her well too.”

  “There’s a pretty big difference between fixing a bike and running a whole shop. I’d just run this place into the ground.”

  Monster gets off his newly repaired bike and marches towards me, then gripping my shoulders he looks into my eyes, his expression stern.

  “Chloe, you have got to stop talking yourself down like that. You are one of the most talented and capable women I know. I wouldn’t trust this place to anyone else.”

  I pull away gently but soften the rebuff with a smile. “I should go, I’ll be late for my shift at Tony’s.”

  He rolls his eye. “And that’s another thing. I don’t approve of you working at that place. It’s so shadowy and everyone seems to be showing way too much skin.”

  “It’s not that bad,” I say, smiling. “Tony isn’t half as sleazy as he seems and I like the shadows.” I point to my scar as I say that last part but instantly regret it when Monster frowns.

  “Chloe…”

  “I have to go.”

  “Just—“ He compresses his lips. “Just think about it, okay? And stop working so hard. A woman your age should be having fun, dating.”

  That earns a laugh. “Last I checked, guys like girls who are pretty.”

  His frown deepens and I take that as my cue to leave. I’m more curvy than other girls and there’s no way I’ll ever be pretty. I know Monster worries about me, but I’m not going to pretend that I’m a normal girl. That’s never going to be me.

  Bear

  “Ooh, Big D,” Tammi squeals along with the bedsprings.

  “That’s right, babe, you got me good and hard,” Big D grunts. “Now ride it. Ride me sweet thing.”

  “For fuck sake!” I roar, throwing an arm over my eyes. The walls are paper thin and I swear my brother has been banging that chick for an hour. “Just finish her off already so I can get some fucking sleep!”

  How had I not noticed this bullshit before? Probably because I was busy making my own chick squeal and moan.

  Damn, it’s been a while.

  “Sorry, brother,” Big D calls through the wall. “I’ll make it quick.”

  Big D laughs and by the sound of Tammi’s squeal I know he’s flipped her so now he’s on top.

  “Let me just slide back inside her — ooh yeah — So fucking wet and tight. I just wanna pound my cock deeper and deeper.”

  Tammi cries out. “Fuck, Big D.”

  “Yeah, baby. Take that cock.
Feels so good, slamming it into this sweet, tight little pussy.”

  I grab a pillow and slam it over my face, wrapping it around my ears as Tammi climaxes in Dolby-plex surround sound. My face gets hot as my balls suddenly tighten and for one pathetic second I think I might blow a load onto my sheets like a teenager.

  Fucking assholes.

  To say I’m going through a dry spell is an understatement. It’s been six months of no sex and it’s safe to say, my cock is mad as hell.

  I don’t know what’s going on with me. There’s nothing wrong with the girls I’ve met over the last few months. And it’s not that my dick ain’t responding, because it is. I just don’t want to have mindless sex with random women and I’m not into guys.

  I blow out a breath and shut my eyes. I don’t know what the hells wrong with me.

  ***

  “What the hell’s wrong with you, boy?” Sarge says when I stomp into the meeting room, scolding coffee in hand.

  “I’m good, Sarge,” I reply with a casual salute.

  “Don’t mind him,” Big D follows with a cocky grin. “He’s just going through a dry spell.”

  “Doesn’t help that you and you current fling are going all night like bloody lumberjacks.”

  Big D spreads his hands wide and shrugs. “I live to satisfy.”

  Joe and Dwayne laugh.

  “Okay, settle down,” Sarge says and the meeting starts.

  Half an hour later, he claps his hands and rubs them together. “And I guess that’s it. We all know what we’re doing? Questions?”

  We all shake our heads.

  “Great, now back to Bear’s absent love life,” Sarge says with a grin.

  “No,” I say. “We don’t need to be talking about that.”

  “Is it some kind of problem?” Joe asks. “You know — down there?” He points to my crutch!

  “Hey, I just installed a new security system for a doctor who specializes in exactly that,” Dwayne says. “He was just telling me that he’d gladly tip with a free consultation.”

  “No!” I snap then paste on a grin that’s a bit too toothy. “Nope, everything works fine, thanks. I’m just not interested in anyone right now.”

  “Mate.” Big D places a hand on my shoulder and his voice gets hushed. “It’s been six months.”

  Joe, Dwayne, and the Sarge let out a low whistle and I feel my face go red.

  “I’m fine.” I say between gritted teeth.

  Chapter 2

  Chloe

  Here’s the thing about Tony’s, it’s not really a strip club but it’s not really just a bar either. Tony is a great boss and a pretty good guy, but he’s A.D.D as fuck. It’s like he really wanted to own a bar but also wanted to be surrounded by pretty girls. But at the same time, he knew that dudes brought more drinks when there were ladies in the house.

  One part of the bar is a dance floor complete with colored lights and disco ball, then, up a little higher around the walls there are platforms with barely covered girls and a few guys dancing. There are three bars serving drinks and tables scattered all around and wherever they fit as well as a wall of booths.

  The whole place pulses with heavy base music, and the best part is that it’s always dimly lit so I don’t get so many people staring at my scar.

  The thing nobody tells you about having a massive scar on your face is that everyone stares and everyone has something to say about it. It’s like they’re all worried I’m going to forget and they all have a magic cream or surgeon or detox diet that could make it all better.

  Okay, so the scar’s not that big. It runs in a white and slightly pink line from the corner of my right eye, down my cheek, and under my chin. Makeup doesn’t cover it unless I paint it on thick and under my clothes is a web of scars down my right side, my arm, my abdomen, and my leg.

  I know it could be way worse but still, those scars are the main reason I don’t date and that sucks.

  “Chloe, babe, I want you on the Graffiti bar tonight,” Tony says, throwing me a set of cat ears and a way too bright pink and purple apron (don’t ask). “Crowd feels rowdy tonight. Not worried, but you can handle yourself better with the rowdy ones than April or Denise.”

  “I’m on it, boss.” I’m already pulling my dirty blond hair into a loose knot.

  Tony is a big man in his early fifties, thinning hair, gold suit, rings on all his fingers. He kind of reminds me of the Wizard of Oz if the wizard had been an adorable pimp.

  A loud wave of laughter comes from the group of huge dudes on table six. Their uniform shirts read Rock Hard Security.

  I recognize Kelly’s new man, Joe, and give him two fingers pointing from my eyes to him but he just winks and takes a seat. The others I don’t know. One is almost as big as Monster, he seems to be the loudest with a long dreads and a wide grin that is a little infectious. Another has his back to me and he’s sitting kind of hunched as though he wants to be anywhere but here. Bad break-up maybe? The boys taking him out to find a new fling?

  Just then, the big one catches my eye and sees me looking. He leans in and says something and the one with his back to me turns.

  Blue eyes. Not just blue, deep glowing sapphire, even in the dim lighting. Those eyes freeze me in place.

  He tips his head to the side and his eyes narrow, clearly appraising me. And I know what’s coming next. His eyes widen suddenly as he clocks the scar. He quickly turns back to his mates and doesn’t look again.

  And that’s how it happens. Every. Single. Time.

  I don’t even know why it bothers me any more. But this time it stung just a little more. Well, it’s all for the best. The last thing I need is a man. Even if he does have eyes that make my heart race a little faster.

  There’s a rush of orders and soon enough Blue-eyes is forgotten in the banter and beer pulling. Most of the time it’s just beers but it’s always fun when I get a group of ladies looking for the new hot drink. There’s something satisfying about being able to mix even the newest cocktails, much to their excitement.

  I slide the latest tray of beers to a nicely dressed man, who I notice has brought the last three rounds for his party. He smiles shyly at me and looks like he might say something else but instead he goes a shade of red as his eyes shift over my shoulder and he takes his drinks and leaves without a word.

  Curious, I turn to see Blue-eyes waiting at the bar. Crap. It’s not like he’s the first guy to check me out only to lose interest when he sees my scar but all the same when a couple of ladies approach I smile and serve them first.

  Okay, so I’m being childish, sue me. I think I’m owed one every now and again.

  All the same, I give Blue-eyes a smile when I’ve finished with the ladies. “What can I get you?”

  His returning grin is laced with amusement and I can’t help thinking that he knew exactly what I was doing.

  “Hey, love, I’ll have two rounds of four shots and four beers.” His voice isn’t really deep, but sort of rough, with an edge of a British accent.

  Worse, he smiles when he talks, his eyes wide and curious like he’s thinking about a three or four things at once. He’s only slightly taller than me with wide shoulders and short spiky black hair, blonded at the tips.

  Even though he’s wearing the Rock Hard Security uniform, I can’t help thinking that he looks less like a security guard and more like the guy who robs the place, probably laughing and smashing things as he goes. For some reason the image makes me smile.

  As I prepare his order I can feel his eyes on me and the skin prickles on the back of my neck. It’s like those sapphire blues are laser points moving over my face, throat, and chest. I always wear long sleeves so he wont have seen the scars on my arm but no way could he miss the web of lines running over my collar bone.

  Nope. Sorry, bucko, but the scars don’t stop at my face. Nice try though.

  My hand grips the tap and I pull too hard on it before slamming four beers and two rounds of shots down in front of him.

&
nbsp; “Hope you don’t mind me saying,” he starts. Not that he cares if I mind because he’s going to say it anyway. “That is a wicked scar.”

  He narrows his eyes and leans closer, inspecting the line running down my face.

  “How’d you get it?”

  “Car accident,” I reply shortly. “The same one that killed my parents.”

  He blows out a breath, puffing out his cheeks then grabs one of the shots and downs it. “That’s fucked.”

  I blink at him then laugh. “Yup.”

  “My mum left when I was a kid.” He cringes. “Not the same. Shit. Sorry.”

  I reply with a shrug. “I’m sorry for your loss too.”

  We fall into an awkward silence and I wonder if I should throw in a, have a nice night, to let him know the exchange is over.

  “You know,” he says. “Most girls would be hiding that scar under tons of makeup. Not you though, you own it like a warrior.” He grabs another shot and downs it, then, still holding the tiny glass between his fingers, he points at me. “If your mum and dad could see you now, they’d be proud as fuck.”

  Everything inside me stops. The music fades to a low hum. Searching his face I try to find signs of mockery or sarcasm or worse pity. Nothing. He’s completely serious.

  My throat is too tight to say words, so I refill his shot glasses, on the house, and shove the tray towards him before turning away to serve other customers.

  But I can’t help one last look over my shoulder as he walks away. Who the hell is that guy?

  Chapter 3

  Bear

  The babe serving drinks is prickly as hell. At first I thought maybe she was afraid of me. Lots of girls are scared of big guys, and for good reason. But when her angry gaze sliced through me, I knew that she just didn’t like me.

  For some reason that bothers me and as the night wears on, I can’t help thinking, why wouldn’t she like me? I’m not a dick like lots of other guys, I don’t stare at her tits like most of the others here do. Although I will admit, they are impressive.

  I have no time for stick thin girls. I need a strong, curvy woman to satisfy me. And she’s all that and more.