Read DirtyInterludes Online

Authors: Jodie Becker

DirtyInterludes

Dirty Interludes

Jodie Becker

 

Book two in the Dirty Deeds series.

 

What do a porn actor and a
classical musician have in common? Nothing but garden gnomes.

Bridget has a love-hate relationship
with her neighbor. Max might be hotter than hell and a joy to look at, but he
has the manners of a goat. Trying to keep her seat as principal cellist,
Bridget has to be on top of her game. Being irritated and sleep-deprived won’t
cut it. So when one of his late-night sexual escapades interferes with her
sleep, she does what any sensible girl would do—throws a garden gnome through
his bedroom window.

Max didn’t expect to be drawn into
a backyard battle with Frigid Bridget and he certainly didn’t expect to enjoy
it so much. Locking horns with his delectable neighbor is fast becoming the
highlight of his days and he
longs to melt her frosty
exterior. She might know how to make music with a cello, but he knows how to
make music with her body. And he can’t wait to show her how.

 

Ellora’s Cave Publishing

www.ellorascave.com

 

 

 

Dirty Interludes

 

ISBN 9781419938788

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Dirty Interludes Copyright © 2012 Jodie Becker

 

Edited by Grace Bradley

Cover design by Caitlin Fry

Photos: Olly, Lisa Koltyrina/Shutterstock.com

 

Electronic book publication May 2012

 

The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of
Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

 

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not
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permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home
Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

 

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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons,
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Dirty Interludes

Jodie Becker

 

Chapter One

 

Thunk thunk thunk.

Bridget dropped the pillow over her head in order to drown
out the shrieking woman next door. One would think, with the amount of noise
going on, a murder was taking place. But Bridget knew better.

Thunk thunk thunk.
The incessant thumping had now
picked up pace and the woman’s voice rose an octave. If that was even possible.
With a snarl Bridget flung her pillow at the wall, her heartbeat matching every
punch of the headboard against the partition that joined her duplex to her
neighbor’s.

The digital clock clicked over another minute. It was 2:36
a.m. She had to be up in three hours and for the last hour she’d put up with
their little games. Fury finally pushed her out of bed and she slipped her feet
into her bunny slippers, wrapped a sheet around her shoulders and marched out
of her duplex into the cold.

The wind whipped at her hair as she grumbled out all the
things she would do to her neighbor if she could get away with it. Dewy grass
crunched underfoot as she crossed from her yard into his. She stomped up his
steps and banged on the door. A smirk pulled at her lips. How would he like
having his night “activity” disrupted?

She knocked on the door until her knuckles hurt and her glee
waned. Didn’t he hear her? A high-pitched wail assaulted her eardrums. Probably
not. The screamer must be drowning her out. She stalked down the steps and
glared at the window that most likely opened into his room. From where she
stood she heard the muffled groans of a man and woman getting it on and it
irked her that he was having the time of his life while she was sleep deprived
and miserable.

Anger soared higher and she hurried back to her lawn,
snatched up a garden gnome and flung it as hard as she could at the window.
Glass shattered and the screamer screamed, this time with fear. As one should.

“What the hell?”

Bridget couldn’t help but laugh at the sound of his
indignation. Served him right. Thanking herself for a job well done she started
back to her house to retrieve another garden ornament. Last time she’d thrown
P. Diddy Gnomes, and she liked that one. This time she’d have to choose one she
could do without. Finding a chipped little elf perched on a toadstool, she
picked it up.

“Hey!”

She stiffened then turned at the sound of his voice. He
stalked toward her dressed in nothing but boxer briefs. Her gaze snapped upward
and focused on his enraged features. Not his athletic frame or the dragon
tattoo on his chest.

A sound of distress burst from her mouth and she dropped her
garden statuette and ran for the safety of her house, sheet clutched in one
hand. Bridget gasped as the sheet resisted her escape and she twisted around to
find the corner of it clutched in his hand. She tugged and he tugged back, a
grim smile on his face.

“Let go!”

A push and pull ensued, but she was no match for him as she
slipped out of her sheet and fell onto the ground. Moisture immediately soaked
through her silk nightdress and she popped back up, trying to ignore the chilly
air that brushed against her backside.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarled.

Bridget folded her arms and stood her ground. Cow her, he
would not. “Trying to sleep.”

Black brows shot up. “By taking out my window? Lady, that’s
willful damage of property.”

“And you and that…that woman up there are disturbing the
peace. It’s noise pollution.”

He threw her a queer look, green eyes blazing with outrage.
“Noise pollution? Lady, you have some nerve. What do you call playing that damn
instrument of yours every waking moment?”

“It’s music, not that cat warbling I’m putting up with. A
big difference.”

“Personally, that sounded like music to my ears. Nothing
like a woman and her Os.” He eyed her shrewdly. “I bet you don’t even know what
they are.”

Bridget’s mouth popped open. “I’ve had plenty of orgasms.
Plenty.

He chuckled. “Sure.”

Why was she even defending herself? He was the one in the
wrong.

“I don’t have to explain anything to you. You woke me up.”

“You could’ve knocked. That’s what smart people do.”

Bridget barely muffled a screech of outrage. How in the
world did she ever find this Neanderthal attractive? “What do you think I was
doing for the last five minutes? If that woman would take a breath you would’ve
heard me.”

“So the solution here was to smash my window?”


Yes.
It’s two thirty in the morning and most people
are sleeping, not having screaming matches all night.”

He leered. God how she hated when he did that. “Only one of
us was screaming and she enjoyed every minute of it.”

“Well I didn’t.”

“Jealous, love?”

She rolled her eyes. “As if. You can play your little games
whenever you want as long as it’s not here.”

He glowered then and stepped forward, crowding her. “You
don’t get the right to dictate to me. I bought this house and I can do what I
damn well please.”

“And I bought mine, so I’ll do as
I
please. I’ve had
enough of your porn-star antics.”

He chuckled. “Really? Have you even watched porn before?”

“Oh please, what is there to see? Oh yes, mmm. Do me, big
boy,” she said mockingly.

A brow tipped up. “Even faking it you froze the tip of my
dick.”

Bridget gasped. “I’m not frigid.”

“Whatever. You let me know when you find your orgasm. I
could help you, but I’d be afraid I’d get frostbite for my efforts.”

“For your information, not all women scream bloody murder
while—while doing it. Are you sure you were pleasuring her or was she screaming
for mercy?”

“Care to find out?”

He stepped closer and she moved back, hating the way her
heart raced and her skin tingled. “I’d rather not. I’m going to bed and the
next time you wake me up in the middle of the night, you’ll regret it.”

With that she snatched at her sheet, twisted away and
stalked back to her house. But as her hand landed on the doorknob, he spoke.

“You’ll need more garden gnomes then.”

Bridget blew out a breath and shut the door behind her. She
stomped up the stairs, threw off her slippers, changed out of her soiled
clothes and flung herself onto her bed. Heat seared her face and her heart
thrummed in her ears. Tension tightened the muscles in her torso and everything
about her felt ready to explode. She glared at the ceiling. If he wanted a war,
then she would oblige him.

Max glared at the door of his neighbor’s house. What the
hell was her problem? Ever since he’d moved in she’d been nothing but a pain in
his ass. Heaving a sigh, he stalked back into his house and hurried up the
stairs. Sally sat on the bed, the moonlight reflecting off her luscious
breasts. Cool wind whistled through his room and bit at his skin. Shit. Not
only did she wreck his window, she cock-blocked him.

“Who was that psycho?” Sally asked.

Max shoved his legs into his track pants. “That…was my
neighbor.”

Sally hugged the sheet to her. “She could’ve killed us with
that thing.”

Max looked down at the gnome at the foot of his bed, its
smiling face mocking him. He picked up the thing, checking its weight. A brow
notched up. It wasn’t light and would’ve taken a fair bit of strength to hurl
it through his window. Huh, who would’ve thought she had an arm like a
quarterback. He propped the garden ornament on his tallboy and turned to Sally,
her mussed blonde hair falling around her shoulders in a sensual display, but
the mood was gone. His brush with frostbite had cooled his ardor.

“I’m not comfortable staying here with that crazy woman next
door.”

Max sighed. “Want me to call you a cab?”

Her kiss-swollen lips parted. “I thought you’d like to go
back to my place and finish what we started.”

“You finished a fair few times by my count.” But he didn’t.
Not this time anyway. Damn it.

Sally’s eyes narrowed shrewdly. “So that’s it? You’re done
for the night?”

He shrugged. “You knew when we hooked up it wasn’t going to
be anything more than a one-nighter.”

She shifted off the bed, the sheet clutched to her.

He chuckled. “What’s with the sheet? I’ve seen your body
already.”

She glared over her shoulder at him. “You are such an ass.”

Max narrowed his eyes. What was it with women and their
frigging emotions? He raked a hand through his dark hair and picked up her
clothes. “I’ll call you a cab and leave you to get dressed then.”

He trudged down to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Yellow
light flicked on and a blast of ice-cold air hit him in the chest. Squinting,
he grabbed a soda can and snapped the top. Propped against the counter he made
the call, then watched the stairs. Several minutes later, Sally appeared, her
heels in her hand, hair still mussed and looking exactly as she should. Like a
woman who was well and truly fucked.

“The cab should be here in five to ten minutes. Want a drink
while you wait?”

She huffed. “I’ll wait outside.”

He shrugged and turned away. “Suit yourself.”

The door slammed shut with a resounding bang and Max
repressed a wince. Although Sally was a fun lay, her screaming did kinda grate
on him. He huffed out a laugh. Guess Frigid Bridget had some right to her
anger. But he’d be damned before he’d admit it to her. Knocking back another
swallow, he retrieved a garbage bag and returned to his room and contemplated
his plan of action.

* * * * *

Insomnia had its good points and bad. After the rude
interruption he suffered by his neighbor his hope of exhausting himself to the
point of oblivion failed. It was early afternoon and the surreal buzz in his
head had started.

A shiver ran through him as a draft hit skin. The large room
was reminiscent of something from the Victorian era complete with faux
fireplace. Max leaned back on the velvet lounge, the fabric soft against his
naked ass. Cameras had long since stopped rolling and everyone had left, even
Vanessa, the newest addition to Dungeon Films. Virgins to the industry were
either a hit or miss. Some fell into it quite naturally while others cried in
the bathroom afterward. Those types of girls were hard to maintain an erection
for. That’s what Viagra was for anyway.

Thankfully the new girl didn’t have a problem having sex
before an audience and with strangers. She seemed eager enough to stay and play
without the cameras rolling, but Max had his fill. He just wanted to sleep. He
grimaced. Maybe he shouldn’t have given up the sleeping pills. The door to the
studio room opened and Bryce stepped inside. His brown hair was slicked back
from a fresh shower, blue eyes slightly glazed.

Max snatched up the costume pants and buttoned the placket.

“Vane said you were still here. He needs the room in a few
hours.”

Max rubbed the grit in his eyes. “You doing something?”

Bryce grinned. “Yeah. A threesome.”

Max nodded absently. He’d been there and done it.

Bryce frowned. “You look a little peaked. Need something to
take the edge off?”

“No. Just tired.”

“I got something that can fix that for you.”

Max shook his head. The last time he took something Bryce
offered, it gave him funky dreams. It wasn’t exactly restful. “I think I might
go home and hit the gym. Work off this extra energy.”

“You look like you’re going to pass out any minute. What
energy?”

“Just haven’t been able to sleep. I was hoping to get some
the other night but my neighbor ruined it for me.”

“Frigid Bridget?”

“Yeah. Why did you tell me Sally was a sure thing, but not
mention she was a screamer?”

Bryce shrugged. “Dude, as long as you’re getting your dick
wet, who cares?”

“Well, apparently my neighbor.”

“Tell me you didn’t take Sally home with you? How many times
do I have to tell you, never shit in your own backyard? Didn’t you learn from
Katrina?”

Max grimaced. He didn’t even like to hear that woman’s name.
Almost two years ago he’d met a luscious woman whom he’d immediately pursued.
She was a bit quirky, but he dug that. He should’ve paid closer attention.

“You suggested Sally to me. It’s not like she’ll follow my
ass all over the place. In fact, I doubt she’d see me again after last night.”

Bryce’s gaze narrowed. “What’d you do?”

“Nothing. It’s what my neighbor did that ruined my night.”

“What’d Frigid Bridget do? Call the cops?”

“She threw a gnome through my window. Almost clocked me with
it.”

Bryce eyes widened, then he guffawed.

“Yeah, I’m glad someone finds it amusing,” he grumbled.

“Those things are hideous. Why not go over there and chuck
her lawn ornaments out? It’s kind of creepy rocking up at your house and seeing
those things are watching you.”

With the amount of drugs Bryce took, Max wouldn’t be
surprised if he thought gnomes actually talked to him. Max narrowed his eyes on
his friend. “You on something?”

Bryce pinched his fingers together. “Just a tad.”

Concern creased his brows. “Man, I think you should crank it
back a bit. You’re at work for God’s sake.”

Bryce winked. “Then don’t tell anyone, all right?”

Shit. Bryce loved what he did at Dungeon, and so did Max,
but the no-drug policy was going to be his downfall if he continued. “The
moment Vane finds out he is going to fire your ass.”

Bryce shrugged. “No he won’t, not after Dylan’s and Rube’s
defection to suburban life.”

Max’s mood turned somber at the thought of his friends’
abandonment. Dylan and Ruby had been in the business for a long time and they
were good at what they did. Sure, he understood why Dylan left. He’d been
discontent for a while and although it appeared kind of sudden to some, both
Bryce and Max knew his reasons why. Ruby on the other hand was a surprise. Last
he saw her, she was pregnant and refused to comment on the father. He thought
maybe she’d come back after giving birth, but she never did. Still, he doubted
Vane would let it slide that one of his employees got high before a shoot.

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