Dirty Boys: Bad Boy Rock Star Romance Box Set

by Jade C. Jamison

  “Goddamn, girl, you’re gonna steal all the attention. Yeah, these biker dudes love to hear us, but they like to look at women like you.”

  Woman? That was a first. I didn’t know that I quite felt like a woman yet. Still, it was flattering. “What makes you think I’m gonna steal your attention? I’m not even gonna be up here.”

  His expression changed. “I thought Brad was going to have you sing a few songs.” Oops.

  I shook my head. “Nope. We’re doing what we did last night, but that’s it. He asked about another, but I’m just doing the duet again.”

  He nodded. “Oh. That’s too bad.”

  I was going to ask him why when Brad showed back up and showed me where he’d placed the chair, but he told me to move it to wherever I thought I’d get the best vantage point.

  Soon, they started their show, and Brad only asked me to do the song we’d agreed upon. I’d been nervous, based on what Zane had said, that Brad might try conning me into something more, but he didn’t. And, just like the night before, the crowd seemed to like it, even though they hadn’t been expecting me.

  I helped them take their equipment off stage when it was over, and once we had it tucked out of the way for the next band, we then had to take it out to the rented trailer attached to their van. Brad said, “Check out our tour bus, Val.”

  I started laughing. It was a long navy blue van that had seen better days. “Complete with kitchen and bathroom, right?”

  “Gotta start somewhere. At least, tucked in all the right places, we can fit all of us and any extra shit we need to tote that won’t fit in the trailer. When we get more of our own amps and shit, the little trailer won’t cut it anymore. For now, though, it works.”

  “Where’d you get it?”

  “I bought it from a church that was upgrading to a newer model.” He got up close to the side, but it was dark, so I couldn’t see it anyway. “If you look closely, you can see the old lettering I had to peel off.”

  “Very cool.” I was impressed, and it was right then that I realized how focused Brad was. He was doing everything he’d said he was going to do. He was getting his band gigs and making sure they could get to them easily. I wondered how much the other guys drove the plans along. But it didn’t matter. They had Brad in their corner, and he was beginning to appear to be unstoppable.

  We went back in to headbang to the other two bands and then we’d party, but I noticed Ethan had disappeared. It wasn’t until it was time to leave that we stopped in the back again to find him. He was surrounded by four young girls, and they seemed to be having a great time. I hoped that didn’t mean I wouldn’t.

  Chapter Sixteen

  WHEN WE GOT to the van—the band, me, and the other four girls—Brad said, “All you motherfuckers in back. Val is riding shotgun with me. You guys work out the details amongst yourselves back there.”

  I smiled and got in. Yes, in his own way, Brad was always a gentleman. When everyone was in, he said, “Buckle up.” Then he leaned over and whispered to me, “There aren’t enough seats for all of ‘em. This should be fun.”

  But they managed. I looked back and could see that the two wide seats back there could each easily accommodate three people. But that meant they had one extra person. Just so happened that one of the two blonde twins sat on Ethan’s lap. Yeah. Thanks, Brad. Really fucking funny.

  But he started the van and backed up, not realizing the distress he’d caused me. He asked, “You like being onstage, don’t you?”

  “Well, yeah…”

  He looked over at me and smiled, but the dark partially masked his face. “You should do it more often.” He looked back at the road. “You’re good at it.”

  Well, I didn’t know about that, but I did know I’d enjoyed it. A couple of the girls in the back started giggling, and Brad reached over and cranked the music. I saw that he’d already had a CD player installed, so I figured the speakers were top of the line. Brad took his music seriously. Buried under the music, I let my mind wander, spurred by his last words. Yes, I’d loved being on that stage. I never would have thought I’d really enjoy something like that, but I had. I had to quell those emotions, though, because I knew nothing would ever come of it. It was temporary. The summer would soon be over, and I’d be back at school…with or without Ethan.

  Brad parked the van at one of the cheaper motels in town, just a few blocks away on the same side of town but near the outskirts. As everyone was piling out, Brad hung back so he could lock up the van. He said to me, “Yeah, I know it’s not the greatest accommodations and, yeah, we’re all sharing just one room, but we’re starving musicians, right?”

  “I didn’t say a word. I’m impressed as hell at the van.”

  He smiled. “I knew there was a reason I liked you.” He affectionately touched my chin with his fist.

  By the time we got to the room, the rest of the gang had already piled in. I wasn’t surprised when I saw Nick and Zane open a dresser drawer and pull out bottles upon bottles of liquor. I raised my eyebrows. “Where do you guys get all that?”

  Brad wiggled his eyebrows up and down, and I knew I was in line to get a smartass answer. “Connections.”

  He closed the door behind me. Everyone was sitting in a circle—some were on the edges of the beds, two were sitting on chairs, and Ethan was flanked by the blonde twins on the floor. He had a matching pair. How cute. Brad and I sat on the edge of the bed closest to the door.

  Ethan pulled a cigarette out of his pocket…at least, that was what I’d thought it was at first. I found out quickly, based on its uneven size, that it was a joint. He lit it and held the smoke in while handing it to the girl on his left. Then he took three other joints and the lighter and handed them to Nick who started spreading the joy. Zane, meanwhile, had started a few bottles going around the circle.

  Oh, God. I was the stick in the mud here, and I knew it. I wasn’t going to be drinking or smoking, and I could have kicked myself. I should have known this was the kind of thing they were going to do when Brad had invited me to party, but I hadn’t thought much about it. I’d instead just wanted to spend time with the guys…well, Ethan. And he’d already ruined that.

  Before I could fully register what was happening, everyone except for me had taken a drink or a toke or both. Brad had a joint in between his fingers and pulled on it, holding it in his lungs until he couldn’t anymore, and then he blew it out in a slow, lazy exhale. He handed it to me, and I immediately started to hand it to the girl seated next to me.

  Brad leaned close. “Come on, Val. Just try it.”

  I trusted Brad, yes, but I’d never tried anything like marijuana, and I wasn’t ready to cross that line. I shook my head and so he nodded, and then I passed the joint on. He closed his eyes and said, “Fuck. That’s nice.” I wondered how much the pot and booze had cost them in addition to everything else. At this rate, they probably weren’t making any money playing the music, but I wasn’t going to tell them how to live their lives.

  “I’m gonna get some water. Do you know where the vending machines are?”

  “Don’t waste your money. There are glasses on the counter over there, and I’ll go get some ice since none of these douchebags bothered.”

  So I got up and got some water while Brad left with the bucket to find ice. I poured some water into the glass and sucked it down, then poured another glass when Brad showed up with ice. There was some conversation about music, some about the show itself, but Brad and I were quiet. He had a couple more hits and one more swig out of one of the bottles floating around. As the minutes ticked by, I felt myself getting a little lightheaded. As more minutes ticked by, everyone in the room started getting a little friendlier, but my attention kept getting drawn to Ethan. The two blondes were now sitting on their haunches facing each other in front of Ethan’s face, and I got the idea they were responding to his commands. It pissed me off that the lyrics I wrote for him helped him score those girls. In that way, I guessed I couldn’t blame anyo
ne but myself. The two girls started kissing each other, and before I could look away, Brad said, “Why don’t we go sit in the van and talk?”

  I didn’t know what his motive was for offering to get me out of there, if he’d seen the look of horror on my face at the girls or felt bad about the pot or if he had other designs. But it felt like a rescue, and I was going to take it.

  He took me by the hand and I stood, and that was when I noticed Zane getting friendly with his date as well. Yes, I was being saved…from what, I didn’t know, but I felt immense relief. If being in a band meant a nightly drunken orgy, I knew I needed to hang up the music fantasy right now.

  It was quiet in the dark parking lot. There was only one street lamp in the lot, and it was closer to the office by the street, so even though the light reached his van, it wasn’t bright. Brad leaned over and had trouble getting his key in the lock, so he started feeling for it with the fingers on his other hand. Then he started laughing. He was feeling no pain at that moment.

  He got the door open, and I could feel the stifling heat that had been trapped inside pouring out. “We need to open the windows.” He moved to the front and turned on the van so he could roll them down, and so I sat in the passenger seat. When he finished, he said, “Let’s sit back there where there’s more leg room.”

  Okay, now I figured out his ulterior motive but decided I was okay with it. Looking back, I know I also had a bit of a contact high, so my judgment was impaired, but deep at the heart of it, I also felt an undeniable sexual attraction for the man who was at the passenger door before I could barely get the door open. He placed his hands on my waist and lowered me down out of the van. And the look in his eyes was like a harpoon…Cupid’s harpoon. Except it didn’t infect me with love but sexual desire.

  But we got in, and he urged me to sit in the seat in the very back. It was a little bigger than the one in the middle. Once he sat down next to me, he started laughing again, this time uncontrollably. I couldn’t figure out what was so funny, but his laughter was infectious. Soon I started giggling at him, and I didn’t finish until my stomach ached.

  But then his face got serious again, and he stroked my cheek. “Sorry about earlier. I guess we put you in an uncomfortable position. I didn’t know you didn’t smoke pot.”

  “I was accused of being prude in high school more than once.”

  He placed his hand on my thigh. “Oh, I don’t think you’re prude, Val. You just haven’t met your drug of choice, and you definitely haven’t met the right guy.”

  His hand was warm. I was staring at it and deciding if I wanted to push it off my leg or not. As usual, though, I couldn’t resist Brad…flirting with him or anything else. So I said, “Meaning you’re the wrong guy?”

  He smirked at me, and I wished I could figure out what he was thinking. “Yeah, I’m sure I’m the wrong guy, but I can feel like the right one if you let me try.”

  I don’t know why, but his words were exactly what I needed to hear in that hazy state, and I felt like the most special girl in the world then. Brad had that effect on me, and I think it’s because I’d never seen him with another female…ever. It allowed me to believe him. Someone like Ethan, though…it was evident that he loved women, but he loved all of them. Whether Brad had designs on other girls or not, I didn’t know, because I’d never seen him hit on other girls when I was around. It was like he only had eyes for me. And I don’t have any idea why, because—even though that sexual attraction was there—I didn’t feel like I was encouraging him at all. He knew I was hung up on Ethan. He’d known that from the first day I’d met him.

  “Did I tell you already how much I like this skirt?”

  In spite of my muddled emotions (or because of them), I liked his hand on my thigh and a deep, dark part of me that I would never admit to thought I wouldn’t mind if he moved his hand even higher. But I struggled to maintain control. Still, I couldn’t stop myself from flirting. “Your eyes did.”

  He took his hand off my leg and placed it on the back of my neck while his lips touched mine. The passion—yes, it was still there, murky and bottomless, threatening to consume us both, but somehow he had a grip on himself. I didn’t know if it was the pot helping him to slow down, but this kiss was not like the kisses we’d shared in the past, as few as they’d been. This kiss felt like an exploration…not just of my mouth but of what was between us. It was questioning, probing, moving slowly, hoping to find something.

  And, yeah, whether I wanted to admit it or not, my judgment was impaired, although I don’t think Brad could have been considered a bad choice for anything. But my code—the notion I had that I needed to love the man I lost my virginity to—was thrown out the window with the too hot air in his van.

  And after luxuriating in his sweet kisses for several minutes, he kissed my neck, and those nerves must have been connected to my nipples and my pussy, because the sensations vibrated to those places and past them to my core. Oh, God, I wanted Brad like I’d never wanted anyone else. To hell with the code. So when he said, “Come on up here,” and placed his hands under my arms to help lift me on his lap, I went with the flow. My legs were bent at the knees as I positioned myself on top of him, straddling him. Oh, it would be so easy, and I tingled all over in anticipation of what was sure to follow.

  He started kissing me again and, in spite of my feeling of relaxation, I could feel my muscles respond to his touch over my entire body, and I could tell I was breathing heavier too. I’d been running my fingers through his thick, soft hair, but now I decided to act with abandon. I felt my way to the bottom of his shirt, but I wasn’t just going to be coy and run my hand on his skin underneath. Oh, no. I was going to take his shirt off. I wanted to feel all of his skin. I’d never done it, and I knew he had a firm body and just the slightest amount of hair on his skin to make him look deliciously masculine. I’d seen it enough times that I wanted to touch it. He leaned forward to help me and grabbed it too to help pull it off. And then he thrust his fingers in my hair followed by his tongue in my mouth again, and I felt as though every nerve fiber in my body was ready to start singing. So when I felt his hands on the bottom of my t-shirt, I just pulled my head away from him and lifted my arms. He set my shirt on top of his on the seat beside us and placed his hands on my cheeks to pull my mouth to him again.

  I think he knew I needed to move slowly, because he didn’t just grab my breasts even though they were right there, and I probably would have let him. Instead, he moved his hands to the small of my back and, while still kissing me, moved them up, just feeling every square inch of bare skin below my bra strap.

  Meanwhile, my hands were enjoying feeling his chest and abs. His skin was smooth but firm underneath, and as I explored, I felt him growing hard underneath me. Oh…that felt really nice, the feeling of his penis up against me, right where he belonged. His jeans and my panties were all that separated that joining, because my skirt wasn’t impeding us at all.

  He moved his lips to my neck once again, and I heard a breath of air rush out of my mouth. This time, though, he kept moving down and began kissing the tops of my breasts that weren’t covered by my bra. Yeah, this felt way too good to stop. I was unaware of everything else—of the almost uncomfortable, stifling warmth in the van, of the world around us. It was just Brad and me.

  He slid his hands up my back, and his fingers started to grab the back of my bra with the intention of unclasping it. That’s when I heard a girl giggling outside the van. Then Nick’s voice. Then the creak of the metal door sliding open.

  Nick was laughing and then stopped when he got inside. “Oh. Don’t let us stop you.”

  The dome light was on now, and it brought me completely back to my senses, to the present. Oh, my God. Here I was in one of the most compromising situations I’d ever been in. Was I really considering having sex? In a van where anyone could just peek in and see? With Brad? Really? What the hell was wrong with me?

  Nick couldn’t shut up, though. He slid the door close
d, his giggly girl now inside and on the seat, so the light was off again. “We’re just gonna take the seat up here. Proceed.”

  I think Brad knew the gig was up, but I had to give him credit for trying. He brought his lips back to my neck, then my ear, and asked, “You okay?”

  I took a deep breath to kind of stabilize myself and said, “Define okay.”

  He chuckled, and I noticed Nick and his girl had quieted down to just a series of random grunts and gasps and the sound of clothing being tossed off or pushed aside. Brad said, “We can keep going.”

  No, we couldn’t, not now that I was back to my senses. “I really should go.” I started reaching for my shirt, feeling along the seat.

  “Oh, Valerie,” he said, whispering, and I could almost believe it was just him and me again. He ran his fingers back through my hair at the temples. “I could make you feel like you were born to fly. I want to do that. I want to show you what you were made for.”

  Oh, he was tempting. I considered it…for just a moment and then blew a stream of air out of my mouth. I started feeling for my shirt again, groping beside me, now starting to panic. He kissed my neck again. God, I had to get out of there.

  “Brad, I’m sorry. I can’t.” Even in the dark as I pulled back, I could see the grimace on his face. But he let me slide the shirt back on and even reached for his own.

  I maneuvered off him after my shirt was on and then I sat on the seat, feeling for the sandals that had long since slipped off my feet. By the time I had my shoes on, his white t-shirt was back on, and he followed me as I made my way to the door. When I got out, I couldn’t help but notice that Nick and his girl were attached at the hip and only partially unclothed, but—despite my lack of expertise—I was pretty sure they were already mid-coitus.