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

by Jaine Diamond

Still, I’d invited Taze to this little party, and it wasn’t his fault I was all tense and surly about it. He didn’t know I’d only asked him to meet me here because I didn’t want to show up alone.

  I sighed and shoved the tray of samosas I’d brought from my favorite Indian restaurant into his stomach. “Just carry this, okay?”

  By the time we made our way into the house and started doing the rounds, I was feeling a little less surly, though a lot more tense. I didn’t exactly want to be here today. I told myself I didn’t have to stay long. It was a meet-the-baby party, and even though I’d already met the baby, Jessa had always been a great friend to me. So maybe I didn’t have to stay long, but I wasn’t going to completely miss this.

  Even if Jude might be here.

  He wasn’t. And it’s not like I was disappointed about it.

  I definitely didn’t keep looking around, gazing at the doors, waiting for a glimpse of him.

  Fuck. When did I become so fucking pathetic?

  I needed to get the power back.

  Since when did I let Jude Grayson have so damn much of it over me?

  I grabbed myself a glass of bubbly from the tray on the bar and went to find Jessa. Thankfully, I’d already managed to lose Taze at Brody’s Donkey Kong machine.

  I found Jessa on a couch with Katie on the other side of the party room and settled in next to her, half-listening as they talked about baby stuff. I held out my finger to the baby in Jessa’s arms. He was half-dosing, but he wrapped his teeny, tiny little fingers around my fingertip.

  I watched Taze across the room, playing arcade games with Zane and Dylan, and sighed.

  After we left this party, I was definitely gonna have to break up with my boyfriend. I’d have to do it in a way that made him feel like it was his doing, though. Shouldn’t be too hard to orchestrate; Taze wasn’t exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer. However. I knew, from experience, that breaking up with a biker wasn’t always the world’s easiest task.

  Especially if he didn’t want to break up with you.

  It was the entitled, bossy, alpha male thing. No matter how smart they weren’t, they still felt like they owned you. Saw you as their property. I didn’t always mind—in bed.

  But sitting here in a house full of Jude’s friends with Taze thinking I was all his? It suddenly rubbed me wrong.

  Or maybe it wasn’t so suddenly.

  Jesus. When did I start selling myself so damn short?

  The moment Jude Grayson decided I wasn’t worthy of him?

  I only realized Katie had departed the couch when Jessa started filling me in on the trials of breastfeeding as a new mom, in detail. Something about a blister? Sounded horrendous, but I really wasn’t listening all that well. I was thinking about men, while one of the best friends I’d ever had was unloading on me. She’d just had a baby, for Christ’s sake. Probably the single biggest event in her life. This was a definite sisters-before-misters situation, and I was shitting the friendship bed.

  So I took the baby from her arms and said something I hoped was compassionate and comforting, but shit, I knew next to nothing about breastfeeding or babies.

  Jessa sighed and smiled at me gratefully. “Thank you. Sorry to vent. I’m exhausted. Never thought I’d meet someone who wanted my boobs in his mouth more often than his daddy does, but damn, he feeds for like forty-five minutes at a time. Every hour. It’s draining. Literally.” She looked at her newborn son’s scrunched, sleepy little face and her eyes turned into two giant pupils, like some anime unicorn. “God, I love him so much.” She cooed over him a minute, then collapsed back on the couch and gazed around the room. “Let’s talk about something else. How’s Taze?”

  “Taze… is Taze.”

  “Oh.” She studied him for a minute. “He’s hot,” she offered, probably trying to be supportive. Looking at the brightest side.

  “Trust me, he’s hottest when he keeps his mouth shut.”

  Jessa smirked. “Sounds like love.”

  “It’s not.” I was eying Dylan and his new girl, Amber, across the room. She was leaning into him while he played Ms. Pac-Man. “Speaking of which,” I muttered, “I give them a month.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because they hooked up in a kinky threesome situation with Ash. Those never work out.” I’d been in enough threesomes of my own that I felt like I could speak with some authority on the subject.

  Or maybe I was just jealous of what they had.

  Maybe I was just feeling a little bitter that my latest relationship—which had also started out in a threesome situation—wasn’t going as well as I’d let on.

  Anyway, Jessa didn’t seem to agree with me as she gazed over at Dylan and Amber. “Maybe this one will.”

  Maybe.

  Maybe I was just regretting that I didn’t hook up with Dylan Cope myself when I’d had the chance—the night of Jesse and Katie’s wedding. Because surely Dylan Cope was a better catch than Tyler “Taze” Murphy.

  Maybe I was regretting that instead of hooking up with Dylan, I’d hooked up with Jude that night instead.

  Except I didn’t regret hooking up with Jude.

  Not exactly.

  Who could regret sex like that, with a man like that?

  My only regret was what a giant douchebag he’d turned into since then.

  The baby wriggled in my arms, and I rocked him a bit, trying to settle him. “Shh, baby Nick. Promise me, when you grow up, you won’t be a douchebag to the ladies, okay?”

  They’d named him Nicholas, after Jessa’s dad. Middle name Jesse, after Jessa’s brother, and last name Mason—Brody’s last name. As for Jessa taking Brody’s last name herself, she just kept saying, We’ll get to that. Brody hadn’t proposed yet, formally, but he’d definitely put the feeler out; it was Jessa who’d been adamant she wasn’t going to be pregnant in a wedding dress.

  I’d never say it out loud, because it was pathetic as fuck, but I was kinda hoping they’d get married—so I’d get to be a bridesmaid. I figured I was next in line, behind Maggie and Katie, for such an honor, and Jude was definitely in line to be one of Brody’s groomsmen. I didn’t give a crap about weddings, in general, but I definitely harbored a bullshit secret fantasy of being in a wedding party with Jude so maybe we could repeat our little wedding night hookup.

  So pathetic.

  “Oh, shit. I think we’ve got a diaper situation.” I passed little Nicholas carefully back to his mommy. “I mean, I guess I could change him for you, if you want…” It was the most half-assed offer ever, but for Jessa, I’d do it.

  “No, no. I’ll do it.” Jessa took him from me, rubbing the tip of her nose against his and kissing his little cheeks.

  Thank fuck. I didn’t really want to get baby poop on my new sweater. It was cashmere, soft and clingy, a kind of muted green that made my eyes pop. Plus, it did epic things to my boobs.

  And Jude hadn’t even seen me in it yet.

  Yeah. Pathetic.

  Jessa took the baby into the downstairs washroom, to change him on the change table. While she did that, I said hi to Brody, then wandered upstairs to the baby’s room, alone.

  They’d converted one of the guest bedrooms into a nursery, and it was adorable. Sweet and soft, with cream and yellow walls and furniture, a little cloud city with animals floating in the clouds on one wall—baby giraffes and lions and elephants.

  I pulled the little stuffed monkey from my pocket. It was small, just a couple of inches and kinda flat. Purple. Old. I’d cleaned it, but it had been well-loved. It was the only memento I had from when I was a baby, and since I didn’t exactly see myself reproducing anytime soon, I figured little Nicholas should enjoy it.

  He really didn’t need it. He didn’t need anything. Jessa and Brody’s kid was getting a pretty epic start in life. Better than I’d had. Better than a lot of us had. And I was happy for him. I was happy for Jessa, really. She deserved everything she had, and more. Jessa made good money on her own, but the fact was Brody was w
ealthy, he loved her like crazy, and their kid would never want for anything, stuffed toys or otherwise.

  But it felt important to me that I give him my little monkey.

  I placed it in the crib, because I really didn’t need anyone to know who it was from. I just needed baby Nicholas to have it.

  Then I turned to look around again. I breathed in the new-baby scent. Clean baby clothes and diaper cream and fresh air. There was just something about being in a baby’s room. Everything so hopeful and new, and bright...

  Until someone darkened the door.

  I turned to find Jude looming.

  His broad shoulders pretty much filled the doorway, and he was staring me down. He wore a fitted black V-neck T-shirt that showed off every single curve of his sculpted upper body, not to mention his nipples. And dark gray jeans molded to his sculpted lower bod. Dark tats all down his bare arms. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark expression on his face. Just dark.

  “Hey,” I said, swallowing. My voice came out a weak little croak, and I wanted to kick my own ass for it.

  “Hey.” His voice was low and pissed off. “You here with that fuckin’ Taze kid?”

  I drew my shoulders back, found my backbone and crossed my arms. Didn’t hurt that doing so shoved up my boobs in my new sweater. Didn’t hurt that he noticed it, either.

  His gaze dropped, briefly, to my cleavage, before returning to meet my eyes, a little darker and more pissed off than before.

  From his tone and the word “kid” I was gonna assume he didn’t approve—of Taze, or of him being here. I wasn’t fucking dense. I knew Taze’s motorcycle club, the Sinners, were rivals of Jude’s club, the Kings. And as Dirty’s head of security, not to mention their lifelong friend, anything—or anyone—connected to Dirty, including the home of their manager, Brody, and their songwriter, Jessa, was Jude’s territory. Which meant it was the Kings’ territory. That’s just how things worked, in the MC world.

  Which meant that, in Jude’s eyes, Taze wasn’t welcome here.

  I understood the MC world about as well as any woman could, and I wasn’t about to disrespect the Kings on purpose. Which was why I’d made Taze leave his Sinners cut at home.

  Why I’d told him to leave his damn motorcycle at home and bring his truck.

  “He’s not a kid,” I said evenly. “And yes, he’s here with me.”

  “He’s a Sinner,” Jude replied, as if I needed reminding. “Next time you plan on bringing one to a Dirty affair, you run it by me.”

  My eyebrows raised at his tone. I did not appreciate being told what to do. By anyone.

  Least of all by a man who had no claim whatsoever over me.

  Who wanted no claim over me.

  “Next time I plan on bringing Taze to a Dirty affair,” I retorted, “I’ll bring him.”

  Jude’s chest rose as he drew a silent breath. His nostrils flared and his jaw ticked.

  “He’s here for me, Jude. Not to cause shit. He left his colors at home. For me.”

  Jude looked around, without really looking at anything, and seemed to consider that. Then he took a step into the room. His dark eyes landed on mine again, heavily. “You’re lucky I haven’t kicked his ass out yet.”

  “You’re lucky you didn’t try.”

  Now his eyebrows rose, and a surprised chuckle rumbled out of him. “You think I’m afraid of some kid? Some Sinner? You think I couldn’t have half my club here in ten minutes to back me up, he wants to cause trouble?”

  I placed my hands on my hips. “I didn’t mean you’re lucky because he’d raise shit if you tried to throw him out. I meant you’re lucky because I’d raise shit.”

  Now he laughed. The dimples flickered in and out of his cheeks—and my pussy took notice. Of course, my pussy took notice the second he’d appeared, but now I felt my core clench with want.

  I took a breath and said nothing, which I hoped just relayed how little I cared about any of this.

  He shook his dark head and said, “I forgot for a fuckin’ second.” His gaze drifted south of my face again as he added, “You always were more dangerous than a pack of angry assholes, Roni.”

  I tried not to smirk, but I kinda relished that compliment.

  He moved in on me, suddenly, which I didn’t expect, and I had to back up to avoid touching him. I ended up against the crib, with Jude looming over me. His eyes searched my face. For what, I had no clue.

  “How’ve you been doing?” he asked me.

  I gathered from his tone that he was totally fucking serious.

  “What, you mean since you last saw me?” I asked dryly.

  “Yeah,” he said, his dark gaze snagging on my lips. “Since then.”

  Well, shit.

  Were we talking about this?

  I’d been stealthily avoiding Jude since the night of Jesse and Katie’s wedding like ten months ago. The night we’d secretly fucked.

  I was pretty sure he’d been avoiding me, too. Though probably for different reasons.

  The only time I’d seen him since, I was in the middle of a threesome at a Sinner’s party, with Taze and one of his friends. I’d brought Jessa to that party, and Brody, Jude and Jude’s brother, Piper, had come to take her home. Which was fine. Their prerogative.

  What wasn’t fine was Jude sticking around afterwards to be a douchebag.

  “You mean,” I said, unflinching, “since you strolled right on into my private affairs?”

  “Door was open,” he said, equally unflinching. “Didn’t think I had to knock.”

  He didn’t knock. He’d walked right in and stood there, staring at me until I’d pushed both guys off, grabbed my clothes and stalked out.

  “And you figured interrupting the sex we were having was totally cool.”

  “Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, deadpan. Then his molten-dark, hellfire eyes, which had been locked on my lips, met mine.

  “Right.” I kept my response short. I was starting to come unhinged by his closeness. By his sexy alpha male smell. I was millimeters from telling him to go fuck himself, actually, but I really didn’t want to play my hand. I didn’t want him to know how much he could get to me, and how fucking fast.

  How much he’d gotten under my skin.

  Then. Now.

  Always.

  “The Sinners are bad dudes, V,” he said, and his voice was almost… soft.

  “Mm-hmm. Wouldn’t they say the same about you?”

  He blinked, slowly, and kept staring at me. “You saying I’m a bad dude?”

  “I’m saying whomever I screw is none of your concern.” Those felt like decent parting words, a thinly veiled Fuck you, so I started to step around him to leave. But then I stopped.

  Because sometimes I just couldn’t resist playing with fire.

  Jude’s fire.

  “Why would you even care if I’m dating a bad dude?” I asked him.

  He was still staring at me, that same impassive expression on his face, but his eyes were smoldering like fucking brimstone. “I wouldn’t want to see anything bad happen to you, Roni.”

  I leaned in close to him, really fucking close, and said, “Then don’t look.”

  When I drew back, his dark gaze left my face and trailed down my body, slowly and deliberately, drinking in every curve. Then he said, “Hard not to.”

  I turned on my heel and headed for the door.

  Fuck. Him.

  Jude Grayson did not get to look at me like that, when he had no intention of following up that look with anything. When he had no intention of being with me, of being mine, of wasting his precious time on me.

  Because apparently, I was beneath him.

  And yet he still felt the right to butt into my personal business and try to make me feel like a fucking whore.

  As if he had any right to judge who I fucked.

  The man wasn’t exactly a virgin himself.

  I went straight downstairs and found Taze in the party room, where I sat myself on his lap. He spread his hand on my
upper thigh, possessively, as he drank his beer and talked with Seth about guitars or something. And I wrapped my arm around him.

  Taze was hot.

  And maybe he wasn’t so expendable.

  Maybe I wasn’t done with him just yet…

  Years ago, I’d fucked Jude’s friends to try to get his attention. But I was young then.

  Now, I was older, a little wiser, and I was no longer interested in fucking Jude’s friends. Instead, I was fucking his enemies—to try to forget about him.

  To remind myself I didn’t belong to him.

  To try to erase the feeling of his naked body ramming against mine. Of his hands on my skin. Of his hips between my legs.

  … Among other things.

  The problem was, it wasn’t working.

  At. All.

  Because every time I thought about Jude, every time I heard his name, it all came right back to me. All the feelings stirred up by that night. Not just the feelings of being fucked by him—the thrill of screwing him on that couch in the lodge in the middle of the night, and the Earth-shattering orgasm that resulted—but the feelings for him that I thought I’d put to bed.

  The feelings stirred up when he’d kissed me.

  The feelings I still felt for him… would maybe always feel for him, because for some reason I was just totally fucking cursed like that. Because Jude Grayson, a man who didn’t want me, just plain did it for me.

  I was hooked on him.

  And the worst part? As he stepped into the party room and his dark eyes met mine across the room… I was pretty sure he knew it.

  Don’t miss Dirty Like Jude (Dirty #5), the next book in the Dirty series!

  Books by Jaine Diamond

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  DIRTY SERIES

  Dirty Like Me (Dirty #1)

  Dirty Like Us (Dirty #0.5) - Free!

  Dirty Like Brody (Dirty #2)

  A Dirty Wedding Night (Dirty #2.5)

  Dirty Like Seth (Dirty #3)

  Dirty Like Dylan (Dirty #4)