That if I tried and succeeded, she’d probably just get madder at me.
“Admit it,” I said, moving in, “you don’t want me to touch Talia. You don’t want me to touch anyone else. You want me with you.”
She didn’t admit it. She didn’t say a word. But her eyes drifted down my chest again and her nostrils flared.
“You hate it when I’m with other women, and not because it’s some bullshit proof to you that I’ll never be able to keep my dick in my pants. It’s because you’re jealous. Because you want me, and you don’t want anyone else to have me.”
She looked up at me and said, quietly, “No, Zane. I don’t let myself want that.”
“What? Why?”
“Because there’s no point wanting something you can never have.”
With that, she turned around and walked right off my bus—walked away from me, again.
And all my anger cooled. Instantly.
Because nothing seemed worth it when Maggie walked away from me.
Not being right or winning the fight. I never won anyway.
Neither of us really did.
Fuck.
I sighed, and went after her.
By the time I was off my bus, Maggie was already across the lot and on her bus. Shady pointed me in the right direction.
I went straight over, shirtless, walking right past Katie who was on her phone and sipping a beer outside her bus—and stared at me over the bottle.
Fucking great.
I ignored her. But I had to wonder at what point we were gonna make some dramatic scene in front of a bunch of people and everyone was gonna start realizing what was going on—and Maggie was gonna flip her shit.
Soon, I figured. At this rate… very fucking soon.
And there was a part of me that couldn’t fucking wait for it to happen.
The shit-disturber part.
And that other part… the one that wanted all this fighting shit over with. You know, so we could move on forward to other, better shit, like a hell of a lot more fucking.
I yanked the door of Maggie’s bus open, ignoring the bullshit NO DUDES sign. There was a chick sitting in the lounge, working on a laptop when I walked in. Freckles and strawberry-blonde hair. Elle’s assistant, what’s-her-name. Fucking Joanie.
“Anyone else back there?” I asked her.
“You mean, except…?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
“Great. Get out.”
She blinked at me, then shut her laptop and got to her feet, taking it with her. “Sure. I just need to grab my—”
“Nope.”
Her eyes went wide. The girl had been around for a few years now, but this was pretty much the longest conversation we’d ever had. And the rudest.
“Okee dokee…”
She slipped past me and out the door. I locked it behind her, then kicked off my boots and headed straight to the back of the bus.
I found Maggie in her bunk. She’d ditched her jacket and was lying on her back on top of the blanket in her sexy little dress. Before she could react I crowded in with her, lying next to her on my stomach, propped up on my elbows.
“Zane!” she hissed. “What the fuck?”
“We need to talk,” I said, calmly, my face inches from hers.
“You’re not supposed to be on here.”
“I know. The Lady Bus, right?”
“Is Joanie still out there?”
“Nope. We’re alone.” Alone enough. I knew the door was locked, but there were probably a few people who had a key.
Maggie knew it too; she glared at me. I rolled onto my back and got comfy next to her.
After a moment of silence, she sighed.
There was music playing softly in the lounge. I stared at the underside of the bunk above us, wishing I had a joint on me and wondering if there was a chance in hell Maggie would let me smoke up on her bus.
At least the weed I’d already smoked was kinda helping me mellow out—now that I’d chilled the fuck out a bit.
“What is this Sarah McLachlan-sounding shit?” I asked her.
“It’s Feist.”
“Sounds like Sarah McLachlan.”
“It sounds literally nothing like Sarah McLachlan.”
I listened for a bit. “Sounds the same to me.”
“Because you’ve probably never actually listened to Sarah McLachlan.” That was true enough. “Let me guess. You don’t like it?”
“It’s alright. But where’s the sex?”
“There’s plenty of sex in it,” she said, and I could pretty much hear her eyes roll. “You just have to listen.”
“I guess. Who really listens to this shit, though?”
“Uh, Joanie? Please tell me you weren’t rude to her.”
I left that alone. “Trust me, I’m not the only dude who’s been on this bus, Maggs.”
That was met with silence.
Then she turned her head to look at me. “What?”
“Definitely seen other dudes slipping in and out of here.” I looked at her; her face was close to mine. We were sharing one of her furry pink pillows. “You telling me you haven’t caught them yet?”
“Who?” she demanded.
“Hey, I’m not gonna cockblock a guy for no good reason. I’m just letting you know. I’m not the only one breaking the rules here. And we’ve already agreed Talia’s not getting fired, right?”
“Shit,” she muttered, putting the pieces together in her head.
“Go easy on her. And what do you expect Pete and Sophie to do, fuck on a crowded crew bus? Come on, Maggs. You shouldn’t make rules no one can follow. Just setting yourself up for disappointment.”
“Fuck.” She softened beside me, pushing a hand through her hair. “What do you want, Zane? And don’t say pussy, because I’m really not in the mood.”
“I’m not gonna say that,” I told her, honestly, and she tossed me a skeptical look. “Seems to me like we’re not getting anywhere, fighting over the same shit again and again. Am I right?”
She didn’t say anything. I was right, but she was hardly gonna admit it.
“So, why don’t we try getting along? Talk about something else. Like something we can agree on. We used to actually do that sometimes, you know.”
“Yeah. I remember.”
She didn’t go on, but she didn’t tell me to leave, so I went on.
“You’re beautiful, Maggie,” I told her, my voice soft. “You work hard. You deserve to be kissed at the end of the day. Have someone tell you how amazing you are.” I was staring at her face, and I meant every word.
“You deserve that, too,” she said quietly, but she was staring at the underside of the bunk above us when she said it. Her face looked soft and young, so pretty in the glow of the golden light, and all I wanted to do was kiss her.
So fuck it.
I leaned over and kissed her.
Her lips were soft, and I just savored the feeling. Her warm breath against my face. The smell of her and her familiar taste. I kept my tongue in my mouth and just savored her lips against mine.
Gradually, she started kissing me back.
As we kissed, I shifted my body over hers. And yeah, my dick was up. She was so soft and warm beneath me… Her hands gripped my bare arms, her nails digging in, and my body was overly-aware that I was already half-naked.
And the little gasps she made as my lips moved against hers… fuck. I hadn’t even touched her with my tongue yet.
I didn’t even bring a condom.
I didn’t come here to fuck her, but now all I wanted to do was be inside her.
I shifted my hips, moving against her, restless, looking to get comfortable and stay a while… and she spread her legs, wrapping them around my hips.
I nudged my tongue into her mouth and she opened for me, taking me deeper. Tingles prickled down my spine. My balls tightened and my dick throbbed. I moved against her slowly, dragging my rigid dick against her clit.
She moaned, low in her throat, and my dick pulsed. I was already leaking pre-come.
Shit, but I wanted to fuck her. Just bury myself in her and stay there.
I reached down between us and slid my fingers over her pussy. She was warm through her panties, they were damp, and she moaned again, rubbing into my touch.
Definite green light.
I undid my jeans. I got my cock out into my hand, and at the same time, I felt her reach down and hike up her dress. I pushed my dick down between her legs, grabbed her panties and wrenched them aside, and pushed into her.
Her head snapped back and she shuddered with pleasure. Her pussy squeezed my dick as I pumped into her… deeper…. deeper. At the same time, I managed to wriggle out of my jeans, fighting them down until they were finally off, so I could spread my knees and drive into her harder.
Maggie gasped and clutched at my ass, pulling me to her.
She didn’t push me back and roll on top or fight me for dominance like she often did.
She just spread her legs for me and took me, deep.
“Condom,” she gasped. “We need a condom.”
“Don’t have one.”
“Fuck.”
“You have one?”
“Why would I have a condom on the Lady Bus?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“Because,” she said, annoyed. “If I didn’t bring any on tour, I couldn’t fuck you.”
I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. “That was your plan?”
“Shut up. Don’t laugh at me while you’re fucking me.”
I reached down under her thigh and hiked it up, spreading her legs wider and holding her there, pinned, as I drove into her. “You’re right. It’s a great plan, Maggs. Really effective.”
“You didn’t bring one with you…?”
“Really didn’t think that far ahead.”
She huffed, irritated, but she didn’t tell me to stop. Not with words or her body. She just kept taking me as I drove into her, her body gradually relaxing, softening until she was moaning in a steady rhythm to match my thrusts. Her pussy was tight and silky-wet and felt so mindfucking-good against my skin… and I was gonna blow.
Yup. I was gonna blow my load for her in a matter of fucking seconds.
I didn’t even want to stop it.
I just wanted to come all over her. Mark her. Make her mine.
“You gonna come, Maggie? Before I blow…?”
“Yeah,” she breathed. “Yeah, don’t pull out yet…” She was trying to move her hips, so I released my grip on her thigh. I yanked down her silky dress and the bra underneath, popping her tits out. I ran my hand over them and squeezed.
“Gonna come on your tits,” I warned her, “about eight seconds…”
“Fuck…” She churned her hips as I ground into her, her pussy squeezing me tight, milking me. “Do that thing…”
I fucked her harder, jerking my hips up with each thrust, hitting her clit. “What, this thing…?” Then I pummeled her G-spot, making her breath cut off in desperate little choking sounds as her body arched beneath mine.
“Yeah,” she choked out, “there…”
I grabbed her hip again, pulled out partway and fucked her in short, hard strokes, working her from the inside-out, forcing her orgasm. I knew it was coming… Her face was flushing. Her nipples were rock-hard as her tits jiggled.
Then her pussy convulsed around my cockhead and she screamed.
I fucked her as long as I could stand, then I ripped my dick out and got up on my knees, fast.
I barely got my hand on myself before I shot off. I aimed for her chest as my cock jerked in my hand. My eyes closed and I braced myself against the wall as the spasms rocked my body. I stroked myself as I came, and suddenly Maggie’s hands were stroking me, too.
When I could see again, Maggie was panting beneath me and my come was splattered on her tits, her throat and her chin. She gazed up at me and shuddered out a long sigh.
“Fuck… sweetheart…” I lowered myself down over her. “Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life…” I kissed her soft mouth, touched my fingers to her chin and drifted them down her throat, smearing my come into her skin.
Then I sat back up and looked at her, using both hands to rub my come into her tits, smearing it over her nipples and tweaking the little rosy tips.
She shuddered, sensitive. But she was limp beneath me.
And for a moment, half-undressed and marked with my come, pinned between my knees with my cock still half-hard against her stomach, she looked up at me in total surrender. Soft, vulnerable and spent.
Mine.
Right now, there was no fight in her. She didn’t even want to run away. She didn’t want me to leave. I could see it in her gray eyes.
I could see how badly she wanted to stay right where she was.
Open to me.
Honest and exposed… stripped and dirty… done for.
That look on her face? It was the kind of shit I’d been dreaming about for eight years.
“It should be like this,” I told her, “always. You, fucking covered in my come. Your legs spread. Your pussy wet. Fucking panting and dripping and aching for me to make you come again. Begging me and screaming my name. Fucking mine.” I slid a hand up around her neck and held her, gently, by the throat, squeezing just lightly as I leaned down in her face. I brushed my lips to hers. “Make you keep coming for me… even when you don’t want to.”
But she shook her head slowly. “We can’t do this,” she said. “We can’t just keep having sex.”
“It’s not just sex.”
“It is.”
I tightened my hand around her throat a bit, holding her there. “For fuck’s sake, Maggie. Can you stop saying that? It’s not just sex.”
She pushed at me, shoved at me to get off, so I let go, shifting over to let her get up.
She sat up and looked over her shoulder at me. “It can’t be more,” she said softly, as her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Zane. I just can’t handle more.” She slipped out of the bed and stood on shaky legs, fixing her dress. She peeked out toward the front of the bus, and when she looked at me again, she looked scared and fucking sad. “I can’t handle this,” she told me, and her voice was shaky, too.
And my stomach fucking fell.
She really meant that shit.
And she wasn’t even blaming me for it.
It was the first time, ever, she didn’t put it all on me, didn’t blame me for everything going wrong. She didn’t even look mad.
“That’s not true.”
“It’s true,” she said. “Please. Get off the bus before someone sees you. I don’t want anyone to see you here. Just… please.” Her gray eyes fucking pleaded with me.
Then she disappeared into the washroom.
I sat on the side of her bed, scraping myself together. Slowly pulling my jeans back on. But my head felt broken, my brain shattered into a jumble of pieces that didn’t seem to want to reconnect. Her words had knocked all the sense out of me.
Fucking shocked me.
I can’t handle this.
She wasn’t even blaming me.
For once, Maggie wasn’t blaming me.
I’d waited for so long for her to stop blaming me. And now that she suddenly did… I didn’t know what the fuck to do.
What the fuck was I supposed to do?
If I was the problem, if I’d fucked things up, at least I had a chance of fixing it.
If Maggie was the problem… What the hell was I supposed to do to fix that?
Chapter Eleven
Maggie
I should’ve known everything would really fall apart when we rolled into Vegas.
For five days, Zane and I had managed to keep the peace by pretty much staying the fuck away from each other. It was like we both just knew if we got within screaming distance of one another, we’d end up fighting and/or fucking, and hurting ourselves and each other all over again.
&n
bsp; So we kept our distance.
I knew he was probably mad at me, again, and hurt, and I couldn’t fix it.
But I’d been honest with him. I couldn’t handle just having a sexual relationship with him.
And I couldn’t handle anything more.
I sure as fuck couldn’t handle losing him completely.
Which meant I was smack in the middle of the world’s worst Catch-22.
Damned if I do…
Damned if I don’t.
Fortunately, the rest of the tour was going strong. I didn’t think I could deal with any major catastrophes on that front without dissolving into a puddle of useless mush.
The Phoenix show was incredible, and the rest of Dirty seemed happy.
The day after the Phoenix show, Jesse and Dylan took Katie and Amber on a helicopter tour of the Grand Canyon with a picnic on the canyon floor. Katie invited me along, but I didn’t go. Too fucking depressing, being surrounded by all that romance.
I kept myself busy, though. And thank fuck I had Talia in my corner, because I really couldn’t face Zane like this.
Because I’d been honest with him about something else, too. I was in love with him, and yay me, I’d finally admitted that to both of us.
Which meant that any way you looked at it, I was incredibly fucked.
It was our first night in Vegas when it really hit me—the fucking sadness. The major fucking downer of being in Las Vegas again, which only brought back all the memories of the last time I was here.
In that penthouse suite of my dad’s hotel… with Zane.
We weren’t staying there this time, thank God. For whatever reason, my dad had been distracted or disinterested enough that he didn’t reach out to invite Dirty to stay there. I was relieved, of course, but I was also a little hurt. Because stupid me. As much as I always dreaded seeing the man, it hurt when he made no effort to see me.
It always had.
Maybe it hurt less now than it did when I was a little girl, but it still hurt. He was still my dad. The only one I had.
When we’d checked into our hotel in the afternoon, Zane had texted me. It was the only time he’d spoken to me in days.
Dirty Like Zane: A Dirty Rockstar Romance (Dirty, Book 6) Page 14
