Dirty Like Dylan: A Dirty Rockstar Romance (Dirty, Book 4)
Page 23
I sipped my wine, stalling. “Maybe?”
“You sure you wanna lie to me like that?” She blinked her big blue-green eyes at me, and I felt instantly shitty. It was like lying to Bambi. Or a Care Bear.
“I guess I’d hate to lie to you…”
She laughed, triumphant. “So tell me, then. Is it Dylan? Or Ashley? Or…?”
“It’s both.”
“Ah. So the rumors are true.”
“What rumors…?”
“The ones about Dylan and Ashley liking to… well… hook up with the same girl,” she said, rather diplomatically. “I kind of wondered if it was bullshit. Or maybe like it happened one time and the guys just won’t let it drop?”
“It’s not bullshit.”
“So what are they like?” She blushed again, immediately. “I mean, not in bed. Just in general.”
“They’re great,” I said awkwardly, because I was kinda shitty at opening up about personal stuff. Even with someone as nice as Katie. “And they’re ridiculous in bed.” I took one look at her sweet, slightly embarrassed but definitely non-judgmental expression, and decided to go on. “Like… have you ever been with a guy who was just miles and miles of solid, thick muscle and silky skin and he’d hold you down and say the dirtiest shit to you you’d ever heard and have his way with you until you couldn’t walk, and all you wanted was more?”
A slow smirk spread across Katie’s face, and she threw a glance at her husband.
“Right,” I said. “So… multiply that. You know, by two.”
“Wow. How do you walk?”
I shrugged, grinning. “Not sure, actually. I have been feeling a little wobbly…”
“No doubt.” Katie sipped her wine, considering. Her expression grew pensive, serious, as she narrowed her eyes at me. Then she told me, “I’m gonna ask you something a very wise woman asked me when I was falling in love.”
Oh, God. “Okay…”
“Are they good to you?”
“Yeah,” I said, without having to think about it. “They are.”
Huh. I hadn’t really asked myself that question, though. Which was fucked up, right?
But, yes. They were good to me.
So far.
“Look, I don’t know you very well. Yet.” Katie smiled at me. “And I don’t know where you’re headed with these guys or how long you plan to stick around. But either way, I want you to know you’re always welcome here.”
“Thanks, Katie.”
“Jesse gave me this studio, but I’m gradually paying for it. It may take me a lot of shows, but I’ll get it paid off. I want to pay my own way. It’s important to me.”
“I totally respect that.”
“But I also believe sometimes you need to take help when it’s offered,” she added meaningfully. “I’m making my own way now, the art is selling, but I never would’ve been able to get this far, this fast, without Jesse’s help and support. Or Dirty’s. So. Anytime you want, you can have a show here, and I’ll help you get a crowd in.”
“Um…” I studied her; her soft, kind eyes. “Look, no offense, okay? But is this just sweet drunk talk? Because if it is—”
“It’s not drunk talk. Yes, I’m kinda drunk. But it’s not drunk talk. Brody hooked me up with this art promoter and I’ve made some contacts of my own, too, in the gallery circuit. Plus, the guys know a lot of people with money. And there’s no shame in accepting the help. I can help you set up and work with the promoter and fill the room with buyers. You can give me a cut of sales just like any gallery so you won’t feel like it’s a handout, except my cut will be lower than anywhere else in town.” She beamed, looking pleased with the idea. “So it’s good for both of us.”
“How is that good for you? I mean, trust me, my photos won’t be going for twenty grand at my first show.”
Katie cocked her head a bit, like I’d said something silly, and blinked at me. “Because I’d be helping a friend,” she said simply.
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” she said, laughing a bit. “Deal?”
She held out her hand to me.
I told her I would think about it—seriously—and I shook her hand. I promised her that if or when I was ever ready to do a show of my own, I’d be in touch with her. I meant it. And I thanked her, profusely, for the offer. It was a lot to process, but I was pretty sure I would take her up on it, someday.
I was also pretty sure I’d check in with her tomorrow, to make sure it really wasn’t just drunk talk.
Then Dylan collected me, and once we’d said all our goodbyes, I left with him and Ashley. It was late, near three in the morning, and the guys had already decided we weren’t boating home. Instead, we drove to Ashley’s condo.
They were both pretty quiet as Ashley pulled me into his bedroom. Dylan followed, and for some reason, I was afraid to speak first.
Maybe because I wasn’t sure where we were all at. From moment to moment, our three-way “situation” (I was refusing to call it a relationship, even in my own mind) had me ill at ease. Or elated. Or any number of other emotions.
Scared. Excited. Nervous.
Scared again.
Excited again…
And the guys hadn’t really said much to me the entire way home.
My head was still kinda spinning from Katie’s offer, and also, if I was being honest, from all the mental imagery of Dylan and Ashley schmoozing with all those other women tonight.
I hoped maybe they were just being quiet because they were tired, and not because Dylan was pissed at me for giving him the world’s dirtiest look at the art show, as if he’d had his hand right up that blonde woman’s dress instead of, you know, just standing there beside her. But when I glimpsed the look on his face—the way he was undressing me with his eyes… that clearly had nothing to do with it.
Ashley stood me in front of the bed and started taking off my new dress, while Dylan turned on a lamp and stripped off his clothes. He pulled back the covers and lay down naked on the bed. He stretched out on his side, his cock just barely covered by the sheet, watching as Ashley stripped me down to my lace panties. They were new, too, a gift from Ashley to go with the dress. Skimpy, sexy and black.
Ashley stood behind me, kissing my neck, running his hands teasingly over my body, making me warm. I stirred, anxious for more, as Dylan’s gaze moved slowly over me. It drove me fucking insane when Dylan looked at me like that—like he wanted to lick every last inch of my body like an ice cream cone with his long, adept tongue. Slowly.
Except he wasn’t making a move to do that.
Ashley pressed a soft kiss beneath my ear and I reached back, pressing my hands to his thighs, gripping him through his jeans. “Come here,” I said to Dylan. My voice was breathy, anxious. Hungry. “Please.”
But Dylan just shook his head at me, once, and said, “We want an answer to our proposal, Amber.”
“What…?”
“We want a commitment,” Ashley murmured against my neck.
“You haven’t given us one yet,” Dylan added, still watching us from the bed. He looked incredibly comfortable lying there, naked, in front of both of us. His gaze, though, was intense, restless, as he watched me in Ashley’s arms.
I actually had to struggle to follow what they were saying as Ashley’s hands drifted over my curves.
“Um… did you just use the word ‘commitment’?” I asked, as Ashley kissed his way down my neck. “I thought men, in general, were allergic to that word.”
“Who said we were ‘men in general’?” Ashley retorted as he grabbed my breasts and squeezed. “And I don’t wanna have to worry, every party we take you to, about any of those other assholes getting their hands on you.”
“Oh—”
“We would all agree to commit,” Dylan said. “And since you’re on the pill, we’d all get tested, so we could lose the condoms.”
“We wanna go bareback with you,” Ashley added, his breath warming my ear, his fingers plucking at my nipples now, mak
ing me shiver. He felt it and pinched harder.
Oh…
“That means no other partners,” Dylan said. “For any of us.”
Oh, God. My panties were getting wet. Soaked. It was what they were saying, what Ashley was doing—what Dylan’s eyes were doing—and their voices, husky and low, borderline commanding, as they laid out what they wanted.
“We wanna be clear about our expectations,” Ashley said. “And yours. Everything out in the open, for all of us.”
“Everything,” Dylan agreed. “And in case you’re wondering if we’re serious about this, we are. We had a similar arrangement with another woman, briefly, last year. Before Ash hooked up with Elle.”
“What woman?” I asked, before I thought better of it. I was instantly dreading that it might’ve been Summer. For some reason, that particular woman made me all kinds of envious. Maybe it was the rapport she seemed to have with Ashley. She wasn’t even the most beautiful woman at that party tonight, but there was just something about her. She was sexy as hell. Like if I were a guy, I’d totally want to hit that.
“You don’t know her,” Dylan said. “Her name is Kitty.”
Kitty?
Seriously?
Now I had a head full of a very feline-looking babe in some kinky Catwoman outfit. Maybe Summer would’ve been preferable.
“We weren’t with her long,” Ashley said. “We’re hoping this time will work out better. With you.”
“Until when?” I blurted. Because as much as I’d tried to get my head and my heart around what Dylan had laid out for me on our first date, I still did not relish the idea of being dumped and forgotten the minute they went on tour.
No matter how serious things got between the three of us—or didn’t—I still wasn’t comfortable with that forecast to the end of our arrangement.
“Whenever,” Ashley said, and his hands fell away from me as he started getting undressed. He stripped off his shirt, and I crossed my arms loosely over my chest, feeling weirdly exposed.
“That’s pretty vague. I thought we were being clear here.”
“Forever.” Ashley shrugged as he shucked off his jeans, like it was no big deal, like he hadn’t just tossed out the word forever. “Or tomorrow. As long as we all want to be here.”
I looked at Dylan. He just lay there, a slight, crooked grin on his lips, as Ashley tossed a strip of condoms at him. He caught it and tore one off, his lust-hooded eyes never leaving mine.
I did not know what to say. Because I did want to be here, despite my fears. And I did not particularly want an expiry date on this.
But forever? In a ménage à trois? I wasn’t exactly the world’s most conventional girl, but I wasn’t sure I was that freaky either.
Now, I really didn’t know if I preferred Forever or Until we go on tour.
So I defaulted to my usual non-response. “Can I think about it?”
“Yes.” Dylan reached for me, yanking me into bed. I lay down beside him, and I felt Ashley slide in behind me. They were both naked as they pressed in around me, hot and strong. “We don’t want to pressure you, Amber, if this isn’t what you want…” As Dylan spoke, he ran a heavy hand down my curves, possessively, like he knew I wanted.
Oh, I want…
“We just want to make things clear,” Ashley repeated, his breath hot on my neck, “for all of us.”
“This way, we build trust,” Dylan explained, and ripped the condom packet open with his teeth. “You don’t have to worry about us hooking up with someone else behind your back.”
“Why would I worry about that?”
Wow. That was so nonchalant, I almost bought it.
“Babe.” Dylan rolled the condom onto his hard length, then caught my chin and lifted, steering my gaze up to meet his, which was raw with lust. “Saw you looking at Ash and Summer tonight.”
“There’s nothing going on between me and Summer,” Ashley said. He hooked a finger in the back of my panties and tugged. Then he slipped his other hand inside.
“Okay,” I said, my breath catching as Ashley’s fingers slid right on down and under, slipping against my wet opening. I bucked my hips back to meet his touch.
“And this way,” he said, “we don’t have to worry about you hopping on a plane and jetting off to the other side of the globe without telling us.”
“Hngh…” I couldn’t quite formulate a sensible response, with his fingers teasing my pussy and Dylan peeling my panties down my thighs. Dylan slid his hand over my clit and massaged me with his palm, making me arch my hips toward him now, hungry for more… just as Ashley pushed a finger up inside me.
I gripped Dylan’s shoulder and held on, because fuck. As usual, the sensations of them both touching me… it was too much to register, too much to anticipate, too much to process. The feelings just took over and melted my thoughts to incoherent mush.
“So we’re clear?” Dylan’s voice was all husky as his gaze slid down to my mouth. He pushed my panties all the way down my legs, sliding them off my feet with his foot. “Anyone wants to hook up with someone else, they tell the other two first. Anyone wants to jet off to Thailand, they tell the other two first.”
“Okay,” I breathed, unsure how they’d gotten me to agree when I was supposed to be thinking about this. But right now, fuck thinking. “Deal…” Then his mouth slid over mine, and we were done talking.
Other than when Ashley whispered some filthy, filthy words into my ear while Dylan hiked up my thigh and rammed his cock into me… we didn’t speak another world.
Chapter Twenty
Dylan
“Jealous?”
I punched Ash lightly on the shoulder. His only response was to glare at me. Then his eyes locked on Amber’s ass as she disappeared into my boat.
I could feel his jealousy when I’d asked her to come into the city with me so I could bring her to rehearsal, then take her to dinner.
But fuck it.
I wanted to show her more of my world.
And I wanted some time with her, on my terms, when she didn’t have one pretty toe out the fucking door.
Since Katie’s art show a few nights ago, when we’d asked Amber to be exclusive with us, she’d still been acting flighty. But that hadn’t dampened my desire to lock her down. If anything, the hard-to-get thing was kinda driving me nuts.
I hated chasing women, but for some reason, it was getting me hot trying to cage this one in.
Way hot.
Every time she looked at me and her green eyes softened a little more, it got me hard.
Every time she fucked me, it felt like a small victory.
But she was still too wild, too unpredictable, too fucking skittish. She still kept dropping comments about “When I’m in Thailand…” and “When I head overseas…” Bullshit like that. And I wasn’t having it. Not if there was anything I could do about it.
I wanted the girl here, in my fucking time zone. In my house. In my bed.
I just plain wanted her around.
Didn’t feel like I had to explain that to Ash or ask his permission.
Besides, Ash was just being fucking greedy. He got to have her to himself pretty much all day lately, every day, since Dirty had been in daily rehearsals at the church.
Today, she was mine.
So we headed out in the Dirty Deed, leaving Ash on the dock feeling sorry for himself. But not before Amber kissed him goodbye, and he’d grabbed her ass and locked her into a several-minute make out while I got the boat ready. Then I’d grabbed her hand and propelled her up into the boat while he grinned and adjusted his wood, winking at me like a prick.
I knew he envied the fact that I got to take her to work with me. But more than that, he was jealous that I got to go play with my band at all.
I wondered if he’d take Amber into the studio with the Pushers once they got together to record their new album. They hadn’t met in a while, and I was pretty sure Ash was jonesing to play. It had been too long since we’d all been on tour, an
d I could understand he was getting antsy. I was, too.
Lucky for us, we had Amber to entertain us until then.
If we could just get her to forget all about her little plan to disappear to fucking Thailand.
Amber and I were almost the last ones to arrive at the church, but not quite. We weren’t late. I made sure of that.
I knew I had a reputation for holding things up, deservedly; there was something about keeping to a schedule that I was just naturally allergic to. But I definitely wasn’t gonna give anyone the opportunity to even try to suggest I was late because I had my head up Amber’s skirt. Fuck that.
I strolled through the door with my arm around her at exactly eleven-fifty-eight. Dirty had an official start time of noon; if you showed up earlier, you jammed with whoever else was around, but at noon rehearsals got underway.
Zane threw me an impatient look anyway. He was wandering around the stage in a ripped T-shirt, jeans and bare feet, a backwards ball cap keeping his blond hair out of his face, mic in hand and clearly itching to get going.
I took my time anyway, introducing Amber around again. Making sure she knew everyone, and everyone knew her. Making sure they remembered her name and no one was gonna get her mixed up with some other chick they’d seen me with in the past—Zane’s specialty.
Today, like most rehearsal days, it was a small crew at the church. The band, and usually one of our technical crew, which today was Jimmy. Management was usually around in the form of Brody or Maggie or both. Today, Brody was here, but he’d probably only stay for a bit. Maggie would stay the whole day. She’d bring in food for us and would probably do coffee runs and take notes for whoever felt like making her their personal bitch—another of Zane’s specialties.
Jude was also hanging out. When he pulled a full day at the church, he usually let Elle’s bodyguard, Flynn, and Zane’s bodyguard, Shady, take off, so they were already gone. The church was pretty remote and secure, smack between a bunch of farmers’ fields and some industrial lots, and so far we’d been lucky keeping the location a closely-guarded Dirty secret.