A/N: To the delightful smut hounds who review my non-dirty stories very politely, and then promptly demand explosive sex. It's like having a hilarious patron who nods appreciatively at portraits, but then has a huge collection of erotica, like phallic chess sets and statues of Greek gods disguised as swans ravishing hot chicks. I love you guys! This is a continuation to Drastic. (P.S. I'll be gone for a week. Review me hard. I like it hard. Oh, baby. Uh!)

Dirty

"Baby, I—woah! Slow down! Grace, this really isn't the place for—,"

"Stop. Talking." Grace pushed him through the back alley of the bar and attacked him with more ferocity that usual. Jose Cuervo had control tonight and she wasn't about to argue with the man. She locked her arms around Rigsby's neck as she kissed him hard and without apology. Through her drunken haze, she could feel the filthy grit of the alley under her boots and, wanting to escape it, she hiked up her skirt and used her freed legs to shamelessly climb up her boyfriend.

Rigsby was nearly torn in half as the gentleman in him wanted to stop this immediately, call a cab and take her somewhere clean and quiet and, most of all, private. But at the same time, he was exhilarated that a drunken babe was practically raping him in a grimy back alleyway. The smell of stagnant puddles and wet cardboard filled his nose right before her sweet, clean scent overtook it and made him feel even drunker than he already was.

He groaned as her knees gripped his hips, automatically slipping his hands under her thighs to support her as she ravaged his mouth with her delicious tongue.

"Baby," he panted harshly, grunting with surprise as his back hit the opposite wall. "Lemme take you home. We can't do this here. You're drunk."

She pulled back sharply, indignation snapping in her inebriated glare. "You got me drunk. You got me horny. I'm not waiting to go home." She surged forward and sucked hungrily on his neck. "Fuck me. Right here."

His control snapped at her dirty little mouth and he growled angrily, spinning them and pressing her back into the wet brick wall. He rubbed his body roughly against hers, taking advantage of her pinned position and create bone-melting friction between two sets of clothes. He yanked her chin up and licked his way up her throat, muttering feverishly the whole time.

"Fucking a drunk girl in an alley," he rebuked himself out loud, skimming kisses over her jaw. "I never would…'s wrong…cheap…illegal…Christ, you're so dangerous."

Grace moaned hotly as his hands worked their way up her skirt and stroked her through her underwear. She clawed at the wall for leverage that wasn't there before she settled for sinking her nails into his shoulders. She squeezed the muscles through his shirt and gasped appreciatively. "Sexy man," she said unthinkingly. "All of those girls wanted you." She keened as he ripped her panties at the crotch and grunted loudly at her words. She leveled her drunken gaze at him, smirking with pleasure. "But I get you. Me. Memememe!"

She reached between them and cupped his tightly, rubbing him in rough circles and grinning as he hissed with need. He yanked her hands away and she cried out with disappointment, but it quickly turned into a mewl of delight as he ripped his pants open.

He kissed her savagely before pulling back. "You want a drunk fuck outside a bar, huh, baby?"

She nodded desperately. "From you, yes. Please."

He chuckled darkly. "My polite little sweetheart," he positioned himself and grinned. "Hold onto me."

She tightened her grip and he thrust himself deep into her soaking wet body. "YES!" Grace nearly screamed, the tequila loosening her throat as well as her location standards.

"Quiet!" he hissed as he rammed deep. She moaned in satisfaction as her throbbing core widened around him. Oh God, he felt so unbelievably good. Forgetting her sweeter whispers of affection, Grace poured forth a litany of dirty inner thoughts.

"Never had a man as big as you," she admitted, too drunk to hear herself. Her eyes rolled up as he pummeled her with his hard strokes. "Never been cock hungry until you. Wanna fuck all the time. Want you to bang me a hundred times a day. Fuck fuck fuck fuck!" She broke off and screamed in pleasure.

Even for Grace, it was hardcore. She wasn't shy when it came to talking during sex, but as Rigsby drove harder and harder, filthy words were caressing him in a pretty little voice and making him crazy.

"That's it, baby. Tell me you want it," he groaned loudly. Her boot heels were digging hard into his ass and he fuckin' loved it. Almost as much as he loved the tight softness surrounding his dick and the biting sharpness of her nails in his shoulders. It all contrasted harshly with his disgust at their surroundings and his loathing that some bar tender tossing bottles would walk out and find them. Not that Rigsby could have stopped, even if the guy pointedly tapped his foot and cleared his throat loudly at them.

Rigsby would simply shoot him. Pure and simple. Once he was buried in Grace's gorgeous body, bullets were the quickest answer to an interruption. No one who'd ever touched her could stop halfway through. He was positive about that.

Now she was keening and sobbing as he pushed her ever closer to release. Knowing how crazy it drove her, he bossed her even closer to it.

"Kiss me, goddammit," he growled at her.

She trilled some outrageously sexy sound that he'd never heard before as she did as she was told. He groaned, twitching inside her as the noise spurred him into a more violent pace. She pressed her full lips to his, seeking his tongue with hers and rubbing it flirtingly. He tasted limes, booze and mischief.

Then she bit his lip as she came hard around him. The salt of blood entered the mix and sent him into an animalistic howl as he crested and broke inside of her. The sound bounced into the narrow passageway and echoed into the street as he roared loud and long, jetting himself dry into her sweet, eager body.

"Yes," she purred loudly, straining back against the wall, luxuriating in the feel of his seed spilling deep inside her. "I fucking love how hard you come," she whispered breathlessly.

Rigsby panted violently against her, leaning more of his weight than he would have done sober as he came down. Grace bit her lips and hummed appreciatively. She was drunk, and she was hazily post-coital, but it didn't stop her from enjoying the fact that she'd made him lose control. Again.

Trembling and uneasy on his feet, he loosened her hold and set her down gently. "Fuck, Grace," he murmured softly, his breath coming out in uneven hitches.

She grinned in sated pleasure. "That you did, baby."

He continued to crowd her against the wall, resting his forehead against hers and shaking his head gently back and forth. "You make me so…so…"

"Law breaky?" she chirped tipsily.

He chuckled ruefully and smiled happily at her, his eyes shutting against her beautiful features glowing in the semi-darkness. "I lived such a neat and tidy life before, sweetheart," he confessed softly. "But you? You're the whirlwind I never knew I always wanted." He nuzzled her nose softly with his, whispering in awe. "In the best way imaginable, you get me so freakin' dirty."