Dirty:A Real Man, 8

By: Jenika Snow

A Real Man, 8

I’m going to show her how good it can be to get dirty…


Moving to a small town for a new job was the only thing I should be focused on. But the first time I see Gabe, all of that goes out the window. He’s the owner of a garage in the town I now call home, and picturing the filthy things he’d do to me with those grease-stained hands fills my head.

The way he looks at me makes me feel like a woman, like he’s undressing me with his eyes … like he could teach me a thing or two about what a real man does with a woman in his bed.

I don’t care if being with him is fast or sudden. I want him to devour me.


The first time I lay eyes on Josephine, I know she’ll be mine.

I won’t stop until she is.

I want to get my dirty hands all over her. I want to make that creamy pale skin of hers dark from grease, and red from holding onto her.

And I’ll do all of that, because there’s no way I’m backing off, not until I know I have her.

Warning: You like filthy and insta-love? Well, this story is full of it. If you’re into a hero who knows how to handle his woman, and a heroine who’s all about tall, dark, and dirty, you better hang on because this story will most definitely give you whiplash.

Created with Vellum



“Please make it to town, you bitch of a car.” I was pissed but prayed I made it at least to town before this piece-of-shit vehicle broke down on me.

I saw the sign saying I would be entering Rustin city limits in five miles. “Come on, baby, you can do it.”

The puttering sound started, then the squealing. I cursed. It was getting dark, and I sure as hell didn’t want to be stuck out in the middle of nowhere with woods surrounding me and God knows what lurking behind the trees. All those horror movies I’d watched over the years about a deranged serial killer or a family of mutants wanting to breed with a female slammed into my head.

I was seriously starting to regret taking on the position at the interior design shop in this out-of-the-way town. But I also couldn’t have turned it down. The salary alone was more than I could have imagined making after just graduating with my degree. Not to mention corporate paid my relocating fee, found me a place to stay, and made me head of the store.

It was one of those once-in-a-lifetime opportunities, and I’d jumped on it faster than I’d given myself time to think.

Hell, I was probably just questioning it now because my damn car was acting up.

And as if the bitch decided to say a big “fuck you,” the car gave one last stutter before smoke started coming out of the hood.

I pulled to the side of the road. The sun was nearly set, and where I was parked was right around a bend. With trees surrounding me, an ominous feeling swept over me.

I am not going to think about horror movies.

I am not going to think about serial killers.

I turned on my hazard lights, double-checked to make sure my doors were locked, and reached across the seat to grab my purse. I pulled my phone out, the dreaded feeling that I’d have no signal filling me. But thank God I had three bars. After searching the Internet and finding the town mechanic’s shop, I dialed the number and prayed they were open.

“Gabe’s Garage,” the deep, husky voice on the other side of the line all but barked out.

I rested my head on the back of the seat, looked up at the roof of my car, and mouthed “thank you” to whoever was listening. “Hi, yeah, my name is Josephine, and I, um, broke down and am in desperate need of a tow.”

There was a heartbeat of silence before he answered me.

“Where you at?” The guy’s voice was so deep, so masculine that I actually felt a chill race over my arms.

I turned in my seat and looked around for any signs. “Um, I actually don’t know. But I just barely passed the Rustin city limits sign that said I’d be entering in about five miles. I’m coming from South.” Another moment of silence, some papers rustling, and then he cleared his throat.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be out. It’ll be extra though because it’s after hours.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. What’s your name?”