Dirty Like Dylan: A Dirty Rockstar Romance (Dirty, Book 4)

by Jaine Diamond

  “You serious?” He gripped my hips and spun me around, immediately, dumping me on the couch. Then he dropped to his knees and flipped me onto my stomach.

  “Um… yeah…”

  He pushed up my dress and tongued the base of my spine. “Here…?”

  “Yeah.” Oh, fuck… “And… um… a little to the left… or the right…”

  His tongue traveled to the left… to that little indent at the top of my butt cheek.

  “Oh, God, yeah… there…”

  He licked across to the matching little indent on the right side and tongued it thoroughly.

  I groaned helplessly.

  “You’re telling me there are three sweet spots back here I totally fucking missed?”

  “Yeah. ’Fraid so…” I moaned as he flickered his tongue back across to the one on the left, then flickered it around at the base of my spine—where it felt like a billion nerve endings were having micro-orgasms. “Ahh, fuck… I’m sure we could probably find a few more, if you wanna get exploratory… Like the backs of my knees are pretty fucking sensitive…”

  “Jesus. What kind of shitty lay am I, I missed all this shit…?” He grabbed my hips again, flipping me over onto my back.

  “You’re not a shitty lay, Dylan…” I managed as he crawled over me. “You’re the best lay I’ve ev—” He silenced me by smashing his mouth to mine. Then he ripped down my panties and I felt him fumbling with his jeans.

  Then his hard, bare cock pressed against me, wanting in.

  “Do you realize,” I whispered between his kisses, “you haven’t even let me see you in your kilt yet, either? Or let me fuck you while you’re wearing it…. Or blow you…”

  “Fuck. We are totally gonna have to remedy that…”

  Then I shifted my hips to take him before he got any ideas about getting up. Yes, I wanted to see him in his kilt, but more than that, I wanted him in me, now.

  Just as he started to push into me, though, I took a breath and asked him, “Do you miss him, here?”

  He stopped. “I don’t need him here, Amber.” He took my hand and placed it on his hard dick, as if to prove that to me.

  “Are you sure?” I asked, even as I started stroking him. “I don’t want you to regret it in a week or a month or a year from now. I don’t want you to miss screwing women with him and resent me.”

  Dylan’s eyes softened as he looked down at me. “I’m not gonna resent you, Amber. This is what I want.” He leaned down and kissed my neck. “You.” He kissed my jaw. “Me.” He kissed my lips, softly. “Guess I’m just a selfish man… I want you all to myself.”

  “Good,” I breathed as he finally pushed all the way into me. “Be selfish,” I whispered. “Please…”

  Lucky for me, though, Dylan was never that selfish.

  He fucked me deep, swirling his hips to rub the thick base of his cock against my clit, over and over until I was ready to combust. When he got me there, he slowed right down, drawing out my pleasure until I couldn’t stand it, until I was shaking, until he’d almost stopped… and the slightest teasing thrust of his cock set me off.

  As I came, I uttered those three beautiful words I hadn’t said to any man in a long, long time… and never really felt like I did right now. In the tips of my fingernails. In the marrow of my bones. In the deepest, most damaged depths of my heart.

  “I love you…”

  “Amber,” he whispered, as he kept fucking me. As my pussy squeezed and fluttered around him and the bliss rolled through my body.

  Helpless. I felt totally fucking helpless.

  If there was any feeling more vulnerable than this, I couldn’t imagine it.

  My heart and my body were in Dylan Cope’s hands.

  And I wanted more of it. I wanted to be his.

  I wanted to be helpless and vulnerable and raw, and feel everything I could feel with him.

  “I love you,” he breathed, as his body tensed and his hips ground into me. “I can’t fucking believe you’re mine…”

  Then he came, with my name on his lips.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Dylan

  I pulled into the lot at Left Coast Studios mid-morning and parked my truck. Dirty was deep into recording the new album, and it was going so well, I was fucking bursting to play it live. I couldn’t fucking wait for January.

  Maybe we’d even convince Brody to book us a few gigs, just for some fucking fun, before the official tour.

  I could see that everyone was already here. Shady and Flynn were outside having a smoke, which meant Zane and Elle were in the studio. If Elle was here, Seth was probably here, too. And Jesse and Katie were just climbing out of his Ferrari across the parking lot.

  Katie waved over at Amber, before Jesse took her hand and pulled her into the studio.

  I’d brought Amber along today, because she and Katie were gonna spend the day together while the band was in the studio. Now that Amber was staying put, she’d decided she needed some clothes and things of her own, so Katie was going shopping with her.

  I was totally on board with that plan.

  I’d told Amber she could turn one of the entire guest bedrooms into a dressing room for herself, one of those giant walk-in closets that chicks liked, if she wanted to. We had the space for it.

  Maybe I figured the more stuff she had in the house, the more comfortable and settled she’d feel—and the more likely she’d really stay.

  But she’d just looked at me like I was crazy and said, Half of your closet will be fine. I want to bump into you while we’re getting dressed in the morning.

  God, I loved this girl.

  When I looked over at her she was smiling, and it made me smile. Seeing her getting comfortable, making friends. Fitting in. Dirty was my family, and anyone I was gonna get serious about had to fit in.

  I already knew I was beyond serious about Amber Paige Malone.

  And I knew that meant I’d have to dig deep to make this relationship thing work. To be selfless and flexible and respect her needs. All of them.

  To never give her a reason to ditch my ass.

  She smiled over at me, and I asked her the question I knew I had to ask. The one I’d been more than a little scared to ask. “Are you sure?”

  “Sure about what?”

  “About Ash,” I said.

  We hadn’t talked about it again, but I wasn’t sure the conversation was over. I wasn’t sure it ever would be.

  “Oh.” Her smile slipped. “I’m sure,” she said, but she seemed kinda surprised that I was asking.

  I hadn’t even seen Ash since he took off several days ago. We’d talked over the phone a couple of times. I knew Amber had talked to him, too. I knew he was hiding out, doing his thing, pulling away. Protecting himself. Doing what he felt he needed to do right now.

  But it wasn’t like he was never coming around again.

  “Okay,” I said. “But… if you change your mind… if you want to reopen that door… I never want to tell you that you can’t, Amber. I honestly don’t know how I’ll feel about it if it ever happens. It’s impossible for me to know that right now. I can’t tell you I’ll like it. But I’m not gonna tell you that you can’t, if you want him back.”

  She stared at me, her green eyes wide.

  “I told myself I wouldn’t share you anymore, with anyone,” I told her. “But Ash is different. He’s just always been different. I’m never gonna be in love with him and I’m never gonna fuck him. But I’m officially leaving that door open, okay? For you.”

  Amber blinked, just kinda shaking her head as she stared at me. Then she leaned over to me. “You’re incredible.” She kissed me, sweet and slow.

  I let her drive the kiss, just enjoying all her sweet and soft and warm, and hoping, selfishly, that it was all gonna be for me—always.

  “I love you, Dylan Cope.” She pulled back a bit and peered up into my eyes. “And I’m telling you, right now, there’s no one else for me.”

  While the band got se
t up and comfortable—which involved Seth arranging pillows for Elle where she sat on the couch, Zane one-way flirting with Maggie, and Jesse fussing over which guitar to play—Amber and Katie headed across the street to pick up coffee for those who wanted it.

  Brody had stopped by, but he wasn’t staying. Usually he spent more time checking in on us when we were recording, hanging out, but this was the first time he’d been into the studio since his son was born.

  I pulled him aside when I sensed he was trying to slip out.

  “I’m bringing Amber on tour,” I told him.

  He stared at me. “Okay.” If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. He also didn’t exactly look thrilled, because bringing another body on tour meant a hike in expenses—which would come straight out of my paycheck—but he knew he could hardly say no to me. Jesse was already bringing Katie, and just because they were married didn’t give them special privileges.

  “And I want her to be our tour photographer.”

  At that, Brody sighed, like he knew from the look in my eyes this conversation wasn’t gonna end the way he wanted it to.

  “We already have a tour photographer,” he said. “One who’s got a ton of experience shooting bands, including Dirty.”

  “Then he’ll have other bands to shoot,” I said, fucking firmly. I wasn’t backing down on this. “He doesn’t need this. Amber needs this. I need this.”

  Brody just stared at me some more, taking that in. I knew it was unheard of for me to make this kind of request. I also knew about the requests the other guys in the band made, on a regular basis, in pursuit of pleasing a woman.

  Jesse with his cherry-vanilla lattes for Katie. Zane with his jellybeans for Maggie, purple, orange and red only. Seth with his special chairs with all the cushions for Elle; since they’d announced she was pregnant, he was stuffing pillows behind her back every fucking place they went.

  Not to mention that we’d already hired Katie as an artist; Brody could hardly cry nepotism on this. The ship had sailed on that.

  So I returned his look, steady. “When have I ever asked for anything for a woman, on tour with me, in the studio, backstage, anywhere?”

  We both knew the answer to that: never.

  “How about Ash?” Brody challenged. “You bring him along everywhere, like he’s your wife.”

  I’d expected to get some digs like that, now that Amber and I were a couple. Because everyone would want to know how it had played out. And where Ash now stood.

  Why he wasn’t around as much anymore.

  But really, family or not, it was none of their fucking business.

  Ash deserved the respect of privacy, and anyway, I was never gonna tell anyone besides Amber what really went down between us.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Well. Now I’m bringing Amber.”

  In the end, Brody let me have my way. He had more important shit to deal with right now anyway, what with a brand new baby at home. He looked like he hadn’t slept much, and he wasn’t gonna battle me over our tour photographer, when all it would take was one phone call to let the other guy down and make me happy.

  I walked him out to his truck and told him not to worry.

  “She’d better be good,” he said, his tone insinuating that I’d be hearing about it if she wasn’t.

  “She take good photos of you and your woman and your newborn son?” I asked, knowing full well she had—she’d showed them to me.

  And he shut right up.

  “Give my love to Jessa,” I said, trying to soften my demand by kissing up a bit. “We’ll swing by on the weekend with food.”

  “Good,” Brody said. “Bring me beer.”

  I pulled him into a quick hug. “Get some fucking sleep. You look like shit.”

  As he drove away, Jesse joined me outside. Amber and Katie were just returning from the cafe across the street, and Katie handed off the tray of coffees to Jesse. “Have fun,” she said brightly.

  Jesse scowled. “Where’re you going so fast?”

  Katie threw her arm around Amber’s shoulders. “We’re going on our date.”

  “Brunch,” Amber clarified, smiling at me. “And then I’ll be back for your truck.”

  I pulled out my keys and tossed them to her. Then the two of them turned and started back across the parking lot. Amber flashed a smile at me over her shoulder and gave me a cute finger wave.

  Jesse stood there, looking a little put out as we watched them walk away. Maybe he’d been hoping for a quickie before we got to work. Not a bad idea.

  I was admiring Amber’s hair, the pretty caramel color and the thick waves of it that just licked her shoulders—thinking about how I’d buried my hands in it last night while she sucked me off—when Jesse said, “I’m not Ash,” and threw me a look.

  “What?”

  “My wife and I aren’t coming to bed with you and Amber, so you can put that out of your mind.”

  “Wasn’t in my mind,” I said. He really thought I was looking at Katie that way?

  I wasn’t looking at Katie at all.

  “She’s cute,” he admitted, visibly relaxing now that he’d gotten that clear.

  I grinned. It was kinda nice he was so protective of his wife. But I really didn’t mind him looking at Amber. As long as he knew he was never touching her, either. “Yup.”

  “She’s a keeper?”

  “She’s a keeper.”

  “Huh,” he said. “Never would’ve thought.”

  “Thought what?”

  “You. And a woman. For the long haul. Kinda thought you were closet in love with Ash.”

  I took my coffee from the tray. “Can’t imagine why.”

  He didn’t touch that.

  We both watched as the girls headed away down the sidewalk, tossing their hair as they laughed, their cute butts moving in their tight jeans.

  “Think maybe we can find one of those for Zane?” Jesse said.

  “Nope.” I sipped my coffee. “Zane’s not into keepers.”

  “We’ll all be crawling in grandchildren and he’ll still be playing the field?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “The guy’s really missing out.”

  “Yup. Try telling him that.”

  “I have.”

  The door swung open behind us.

  “Hey, assholes.” Zane sauntered outside. “Get your asses back into the studio so we can record this fucking song.”

  I shoved my coffee at him. “In a minute.”

  Then I took off in a jog.

  I caught up to the girls just as they were reaching the end of the block. I was pretty sure Jesse and Zane were watching; they weren’t exactly used to seeing me run after a girl.

  Then I did something they definitely weren’t used to, maybe just to fuck with them a bit.

  No matter what an attention-whore and an exhibitionist I might’ve been accused of being, I’d never been one to indulge in PDAs with a woman in broad daylight, in the middle of a work day. Mainly because it might’ve given that woman, and my friends, the wrong idea about where she stood in my life.

  But I walked right up to Amber and Katie, reached between them, grabbed Amber and pulled her into my arms. Katie had been talking, but trailed off. Amber’s eyes got wide. I pulled her close against me, her face tipped way back to meet mine. And I laid a kiss on her. Deep. Thorough.

  Fucking slow.

  She melted in my arms.

  I kissed her like that until I was sure Katie had blushed and turned away, and the guys finished whistling and making crude comments, quit staring at my girl and fucked off back into the studio.

  And then when I’d well and truly made my point, I kissed Amber some more. Just because I could.

  Maybe she didn’t ask for forever… but if it was up to me, forever was what she was gonna get.

  Epilogue

  Roni

  “What the fuck, Taze.”

  I stormed over to my boyfriend, just as he took off his helmet and ruffled a hand through his
blond hair. We were in the street, in front of Jessa and Brody’s house; the driveway was already full of cars and Taze had just pulled in behind my car as I parked at the curb—on his fucking motorcycle.

  The motorcycle I’d told him not to bring.

  At least he wasn’t wearing his Sinners cut, just a generic leather vest over his long-sleeved Jack Daniels shirt.

  “What?” he said.

  “I told you not to bring the Harley.”

  I looked all up and down the street, and there was no sign of Jude’s Harley, but still. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be here.

  I was pretty damn sure he definitely would be.

  Taze just gave me a look, the same look he gave me whenever I told him to do anything. He swung his leg over the bike, getting off, and sauntered over to me. “It’s cool, babe,” he said, as if that meant anything.

  Everything was always “cool” with Taze—until it wasn’t. The man never thought two seconds into the future. It was a fucking wonder he’d survived this long as a member of such a badass motorcycle club. The fact that he was able to dress himself in the morning, much less remain breathing and out of jail, sometimes stunned me.

  My latest boyfriend was twenty-three going on thirteen. I liked younger men; they were exuberant as fuck in bed. But I didn’t appreciate having to babysit this one.

  He slung his arm around my shoulders, and I shrugged him off.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he griped.

  “What’s wrong with me?”

  “Yeah. You need to get laid,” he concluded, his gaze dragging down to my chest and groping my boobs.

  I clenched my teeth and stuffed down my irritation. I was not getting into a fight with him in the street in front of Jessa’s house on a Sunday afternoon. Her neighbors were out, walking their dogs and puttering in their gardens. And besides that, we’d been getting into too many fights lately. And not good fights. These weren’t You-annoy-me-so-much-I-just-want-to-fuck-the-shit-out-of-you fights. More like We-aren’t-compatible-and-this-isn’t-going-to-work-out fights.