Dirty Rowdy Thing Novels & Stories

“ Eighteen fifty what??? I retort, widening my eyes, “Oh damn…” The sound of a horn threatens to make me deaf like the old woman in front of me and it is quickly followed by indecent sentences coming from the male gender. I raise my middle finger in response and don't bother to look towards the car in question. I sigh, noticing that I'm not really moving forward with this turtle in front of me. “Really, you old guys are getting everyone drunk. I moan after hanging up.” “When you’re my age… “I hope I’m dead by now.” I retort by taking off my pumps

Tyler had lost the jacket and bow tie, but still wore the black pants and formal shirt, although the top buttons were undone. She was dancing with some of the girls when and he came up behind her and whispered, “Come with me.” Swept up in the pounding music and the heat of the bodies pressed together, she allowed herself to be led away into the empty silo. Tyler dragged a cinder block in front of the door and she giggled as she watched. “What are you doing?” He grinned at her, his voice breathless. “Getting us some privacy.” He wrapped her tightly in his arms and kissed her neck, passionately.

Said it made her feel safe. Riley hated him for it. Not because he was cruel. Because he was predictable. Rowan deserved someone who would make her scream until the neighbors banged on the wall. Someone who would leave marks. Someone who would make her forget her own name for a few seconds. So on a sticky Friday night in July, after too many pitchers of margarita at The Rusty Anchor, Riley leaned across the table, elbows on the wet wood, and said the sentence that changed everything. “Bet he can’t tell us apart naked.”

The clubhouse buzzed with the usual noise, but my mind was locked on that door, wondering what business the redhead had with the prez and who exactly is she. "Seriously, Death, you couldn't have made a bigger mess down there in the cells. It's fucking disgusting. I almost feel sorry for the poor bastard," Ironhead shouted as he passed by the bar area. I barely glanced his way, my eyes still fixed on the prez's door. "Just doing my job," I muttered, taking another sip of my beer.

“What does that mean?” “There were these guys my age in the group, we got close. One of them was the boss’s son. We started smoking weed every now and then, hanging out when we weren’t working. This one night, they managed to score some speed. It made them real fucking chatty. We’re in the middle of a game of pool and they start bragging about this old lady they’d raped in Hudson Park.” His fingers clenched, fisting against the messy sheets. Wide eyes darted up to meet his, her hand smacking against her parted lips. “No.”

The vintage motel room’s warm lighting glints off the chocolate crumbs on his fingers as he waits for her to part her lips. Zack’s other hand rests possessively on Anna’s thigh, thumb brushing against her skin in slow circles. “Good girl,” he praises when she accepts the bite without hesitation. “You look so fucking sexy sitting there naked with chocolate on your lips. Makes me want to forget about food entirely and just taste you instead.” “Oh, no. not again mister,” she argues playfully while chewing. “I have only had one bite.” His competitive nature transforms into playful determination at her argument, his smirk widening as he watches her chew the brownie. The vintage motel room’s warm

She had a faraway look on her face and mumbled. “I’ve met men like him before, men who don’t know how to want something without turning it into possession.” I froze, then laughed dryly. “You’re overanalysing, Haze. It’s just Ryder. We had sex, and that’s it.” “He didn’t touch you like he wanted sex tonight.” She leaned back slightly.

“Let’s just... let’s just watch something. Distract ourselves from the fact that we’re roasting alive.” We ended up side by side on the rug, our shoulders not quite touching, but close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off her. We found some indie movie—one of those slow, artsy things where nobody talks much. About forty minutes in, the two female leads ended up in a bedroom. The scene was long, quiet, and incredibly graphic. They started kissing, and you could hear the sound of it over the low hum of the TV.

Misha, without any word, did it. It was the middle of nowhere, so it got as safe as it can get. I stepped out of the car and slammed shut the door. Furiously, I opened the side of the door Kate was sitting in and pulled her out from the collar of her black t-shirt, then slammed her back on the door. “I have never been played rough by a girl before.” She tried to pull off the whole flirting thing, but it looked like she had never done it before. “Shut up,” I hissed.

Jaylene With the unobstructed view of the city from this bedroom. I can see the day turn to night. And then the door opens to Rowan walking in with Remi beside him, a trolley of freshly made foods in front of her as she pushes it into the room. “I’m not exactly happy about your escapades, lollipop,” Rowan takes off his suit jacket and throws it on the bed. My eyes widened at his blood stained white shirts. I look away, uncaring of his presence, “Fuck you.”