←

Saint Dirty Face

Tag: #AfterHoursSeries

  • The Neighbor Next Door (After Hours, Part III – The Walk Back)

    Robert

    18+ Only – Saint Dirty Face After Dark

    The neon glow of O’Malley’s bled into the night behind us, traded for the quiet streets and the echo of Sarah’s laughter. She walked a step ahead, hips swaying like the rhythm of a song I couldn’t get out of my head.

    Every so often she tossed a glance over her shoulder—just enough to remind me I was following, not leading.

    That’s when I noticed it.

    Dollar bills slipping from her back pocket, fluttering down onto the sidewalk one by one. Like breadcrumbs. Like a dare.

    I bent to scoop them up, each one more ridiculous than the last. She didn’t stop. Didn’t even look back. Just let them fall and kept walking, her grin growing wider with every step.

    By the time we reached her apartment building, I had a fistful of bills and a head full of questions I already knew the answers to.

    She turned at the door, green eyes glinting under the hallway light. “Careful, Saint,” she teased, her voice low, velvet wrapped around a knife. “Some debts can’t be paid back with cash.”

    The door opened. The air between us cracked.

    Inside was another world.

    Saint Dirty Face Closer

    Some games aren’t about money. Some games start on the sidewalk and end heartbeat against heartbeat. And by then? Winning doesn’t matter.

    Stay Dirty. Stay Wicked. – Saint Dirty Face

  • The Neighbor Next Door (After Hours, Part I – Dirty Cut)

    Robert

    18+ Only – Saint Dirty Face After Dark

    Sarah McGillicuddy—28, fire-red hair brushing her shoulders, emerald eyes that caught light like stained glass, pale skin that looked both soft and dangerous. She wasn’t your cliché girl next door. She was the neighbor who made the hallway feel alive every time she passed—smiling, laughing, carrying that restless energy like a secret.

    Most days it was nothing more than polite nods and quick hello’s. But underneath? I knew there was more. I just hadn’t found the nerve to ask. Until one night at the mailbox, I finally did.

    “Any plans tonight?”

    She leaned against the wall, tilting her head, lips curving into that sly, playful smile that made it hard to breathe. “Not really. Thought about grabbing a drink, maybe hustling someone at pool. But my friends bailed on me, so… it was shaping up to be one of those rare boring nights.”

    That was all I needed.

    “Well, I’m not busy. What do you say we go? Whiskey, pool, just… something more than hallway small talk?”

    Her eyes flicked over me, quick and deliberate, like she was letting me know she’d thought about this before. That grin spread wider, soft but wicked.

    “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever ask. Yes. Knock on my door at eight. There’s a bar a few blocks away—O’Malley’s. We can walk.”

    I grinned. “O’Malley’s? Perfect. Been there a few times.”

    She brushed her hair back, voice dropping into a whisper meant just for me.

    “Good. Wear something comfortable. I play pool fast, I drink whiskey slow… and I like winning.”

    She winked, then turned and left me standing there with my pulse hammering in my ears. Eight o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.

    Saint Dirty Face Closer

    Sometimes the fire’s been right next door the whole time. All it takes is asking, and the night burns wide open.

    Stay Dirty. Stay Wicked. – Saint Dirty Face