Dirty Like Me

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Dirty Like Me Page 22

by Jaine Diamond


  So the glove, and all bets, were officially off.

  And as the sensations of last night came flooding back, a wave of arousal coursed through me. My stomach clenched and my breath caught. I bit my lip. I almost dropped my phone.

  “Uh… hello…?” I heard Devi on the other end.

  “Yeah.” I closed my eyes for a sec and just breathed. All I saw in the dark was Jesse, kissing me, moving over me, holding me down… God. I could feel his cock pumping in my mouth and taste his salty, intoxicating taste. I swallowed, hard. The flesh between my legs still hummed from his touch, sore, almost, and ready to go… again. “I’m having unprotected sex with a sex symbol who’s probably screwed his way coast to coast. Blood work or no, I’m crazy.”

  “You’re falling for him.”

  Fuck.

  Not what I wanted to hear.

  “And that’s crazy, right?”

  “I don’t know,” my best friend said. “I think it’s only natural, Katie. I mean you’re with him all the time. You’re sleeping together.”

  “I’m so screwed.” I turned to look back at the bus from across the lot. Jesse was there, shirtless, stretching, looking like some sun god, all gorgeous and golden in his low-slung jeans.

  “I thought that was the good news,” Devi teased.

  Jesse caught me looking and grinned. I turned away. “I can’t think straight around him.”

  “Do you think he’s screwing anyone else?”

  “I don’t think so. I mean, he could be. It’s not like he couldn’t get it anywhere he wanted, if he wanted.”

  “But you don’t think he wants to?”

  “I don’t think so.” I didn’t. Despite the sheer volume of hot babes tossing themselves at his feet, I really didn’t. Which was maybe part of my problem.

  “Maybe he’s falling for you, too.”

  “Don’t start putting that shit in my head.”

  “Katie…”

  “What?”

  There was a long, strained silence as trucks whipped by on the highway and I braced myself for what I knew was coming.

  “Do you seriously believe you can’t be loved?” Devi asked. “Just because of what Josh did to you?”

  The worry in my best friend’s voice killed me a little.

  “I don’t know, Devi. I can’t have this conversation right now, okay?” I felt dangerously close to crying and no way I could handle that. Not now. Not until I was home and miles away from Jesse Mayes and all this craziness was over with and I could think straight again.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  Another silence.

  “He fucks like a beast,” I whispered.

  “Holy hell.”

  “He’s so hot I think I might melt.”

  When I turned around he was still there. No surprise, a couple of girls had materialized out of the ether with crap for him to sign. He was saying something that made them laugh and play with their hair.

  “That’s awesome, Katie.”

  I watched as Jesse smiled at whatever the girls said back to him. Then he looked over at me and smiled bigger.

  “But you know, no matter how real this is or isn’t, or how long it lasts, there’s only one thing that really matters,” my best friend said, from so far away. “Is he good to you?”

  CHAPTER 26

  JESSE

  “The damage you did to my tongue will have me singing with a lisp,” I informed Katie as I climbed into the driver’s seat of the tour bus. I checked my swollen tongue in the mirror, and the angry red damage where the tooth had cut through.

  “I didn’t bite your tongue,” she said, settling back in the passenger seat. “You bit your tongue.”

  True.

  “Which was your fault,” I said.

  Also true.

  We were on our way to Austin when I decided to commandeer the wheel of the bus. A few days back we’d passed that point, the one that came on every tour, when I got sick as fuck of life on the bus and started pacing, climbing the walls, and generally driving everyone else nuts. Travel time between tour stops didn’t justify flying, so I had no choice but to endure the road. I’d taken over driving to change things up.

  When we’d stopped for gas, Kenny got out to fuel up, Mick and Raf went for beer, Jude disappeared wherever, and I pulled Katie into my lap on the co-pilot seat. I then proceeded to dry-hump her like a horny mutt. I’d been trying to get up her skirt all morning, also to stave off my road boredom. I started to peel her tank top off, she protested something about windows, and I shoved my tongue down her throat to shut her up. She pulled my shirt off, distracted me by scraping her fingernails over my nipples, then wrenched her mouth free, licked my ear and whispered something that sounded distinctly like I should fuck you up the ass.

  Which made me bite my tongue so hard it bled.

  Unfortunately the guys had started piling back on the bus before I could make her pay for the bloody tongue, or explain that comment. My tongue was still throbbing, the coppery taste of blood still in my mouth.

  “Practice,” she said. “Sing something and I’ll tell you if you lisp.”

  I started singing the chorus to Dream Weaver, of all things. And I did lisp a little on the v and th sounds. It also hurt to try not to. Katie roared with laughter. Then I said, “Ow,” and she shut her mouth.

  “What’s wrong?” Mick appeared, cracked open a cold beer, handed it to Katie and took away her empty; she’d already pounded one back while we’d waited for Jude and Kenny to return.

  “Thanks!” She took a swig. “I made Jesse bleed,” she said with fake-ass sympathy.

  “Keep it up,” Mick said, and disappeared into the back.

  “Don’t encourage her,” I growled after him.

  “Aw. Poor baby,” Katie said sweetly, her big blue-greens gleaming with joy.

  “You’re lucky there’s no show tonight.”

  “I’ve never seen you pout before,” she said, still wide-eyed with glee. “It’s adorable.”

  “Not pouting,” I grumbled. “Bruising.”

  She laughed again as I steered the bus out onto the highway, humming the chorus to Dream Weaver.

  “Maybe you could just hum the whole show tomorrow,” she suggested brightly.

  “If you’re gonna pull co-pilot, make yourself useful,” I ordered.

  “And how would I do that?” She glanced over her shoulder into the lounge, then leaned in and whispered, “I am not giving you a roadie.”

  “Why the fuck not?” I started to make a suggestive gesture with my tongue, but stopped when I tasted fresh blood. “Ow. Fuck.” I shot her a look, daring her to laugh at my injury again.

  She smiled prettily and drank her beer. “Don’t worry, I’ll be more entertaining when I’m inebriated. Help you pass the time. I’m going full-bore co-pilot on this.”

  “Uh-huh. And what do you do to pass the time on a road trip?”

  “I dunno. Talk about boys? Last time I went on a road trip I was eighteen.”

  “Sounds fucking boring.”

  She hooked an eyebrow at me over her beer. “You saying boys are boring?”

  “And hairy. And they stink. Trust me, I’ve been on plenty of road trips with dudes and they’re highly overrated.”

  Katie laughed. “Okay. So what do you stinky boys do on the road? I mean, you know, besides all the hookers and blow or whatever.”

  “Hmm.” I pretended to think about it. “I don’t know. We’ve never run out of the hookers and blow before.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. We could play a road game.”

  “Sounds like some good clean PG fun.”

  “Though unless it’s a drinking game…” She held up her beer and toasted the air. “I don’t really see the point.” She punctuated that with a swig of beer, then smiled. And I really wished she’d wrap those pretty pink lips, wet with beer, around my cock.

  Maybe later. There were always more rest stops.

  “You keep drinking, ba
be, we’ll make it a drinking game. But the only road game I remember is Top Five. Got into a lot of fights over it.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Oh yeah. Bad words were said. Drinks were thrown. It was ugly.”

  “Sounds awesome.”

  “It’s not for the faint of heart.”

  “Teach me!”

  “Okay. It’s easy. I just give you a topic and you say the top five things in that category.”

  “Such as?”

  “Top five bands.”

  “Oh, that’s easy.”

  “That’s what I said. But it’s deceptively controversial, I warn you.”

  “Maybe for stubborn, overly-opinionated rock stars. I, on the other hand, am a civilized lady.” She took another swig of her beer. She was already looking flushed, her cheeks pink; it didn’t take much. The girl couldn’t hold her booze worth a damn.

  Which was fine with me. I happened to like drunk Katie.

  My dick liked her too. Especially when she rolled the frosty beer bottle between her breasts, making her nipples harden against the cotton, the condensation dripping down inside her tank top…

  Fuck.

  Eyes on the fucking road.

  “So go ahead, sweetheart. Top five bands.”

  “Like, of all time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Number one. Dirty. Obviously.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Two. The Jesse Mayes solo project band.”

  That made me grin. Carefully. My tongue was still throbbing dully. “Nice. And I’ll tell Raf you said that.”

  “Three. The Police.”

  “Interesting choice.”

  She eyed me, sidelong, as if waiting for an argument. “You don’t want to piss off Sting, do you? That dude will out-Zen you to shit.”

  “I don’t even know what that means.”

  “Number four. Queen.”

  “Wrong.”

  “What!?”

  “Queen are legends. Excellent choice. Just not top five.”

  “Okay. Now I see why you guys fought. But guess what? You’re driving, I’ve got beer, and you don’t get a veto vote on my list. It’s my top five. Queen. Number four.” She threw back her beer, which was almost empty.

  “Alright. Number five?”

  “David Bowie.”

  “That’s not a band.”

  “Whatever. Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars.”

  “You have some curious musical tastes for a woman born in 1991.”

  “Thank you.” She took a self-congratulatory swig from her beer, emptying it, and excused herself to get a new one. “Your top five,” she said as she returned, plopping into her seat. She tossed her feet up on the dash, making her mini skirt creep up, giving me an eyeful of those pale, smooth thighs, and a vivid idea of what I’d like to be doing with them… like wrapping them around my face.

  “Okay.” I cleared my throat, trying to focus. “The Doors. The Who. Cream. Zeppelin. Dylan. Done.”

  “Bob Dylan? ’That’s not a band,’” she said, throwing my words back at me.

  “Bob Dylan and his band.”

  “You have some curious musical tastes for a man born in… 1988?”

  “Eighty-seven. Top five kinky things you want me to do to you that I haven’t yet.”

  Katie laughed. “Ah, he finds a way to turn the good clean PG road game dirty.”

  “What? It’s within the rules.”

  “I don’t think you explained the rules to me.”

  “I told you. I name the category, you have to say the top five.”

  “Have to?”

  “Yep. Or else the universe implodes or something. We once made Zane list the top five exports from Brazil before we’d let him take a piss. He’d had like twenty beers.”

  “Cruel! What were they?”

  “The Brazilian exports? I have no fucking clue. I think Dylan did a Google search or something. We probably just made shit up in the end.”

  She laughed, then gave me a stern look. “Don’t even try that on me or you’ll regret it. If you keep me from the bathroom after three beers, I’ll probably pee on you.”

  “Okay, but that’s not really on my list. Unless it’s on yours.”

  “What list?”

  “Top five kinky things.”

  She twitched her nose at me. “Ew. No.”

  “Then you still have five things to name.”

  “Fine.” She sipped her beer and got serious. “Okay. Kinky things. Um. Tie me up?”

  “Really?”

  “I don’t know. It’s kinky, right?”

  “You can’t just say kinky things. You have to say your top five.”

  “Okay. Not the tie up thing.”

  “I knew it. Liar.”

  “Take a shower with me. Is that kinky?”

  “No. But I’ll take it.”

  “Hey! It’s kinky for some people.”

  “You’ve got four more. Blow my mind.”

  “Oh, God.”

  I grinned and didn’t even try to pretend I wasn’t enjoying the fuck out of this, as Katie sipped her beer and thought that over. Hard.

  “Okay. Suck my toes?”

  “Don’t ask. Just tell.”

  “Alright. Spank me?”

  “Stop asking.”

  “Um. Do me while you’re wearing those hot leather pants.”

  Christ. I felt my pulse quicken in my throbbing tongue, in my dick, because she’d meant that one. She glanced over at me. I reminded myself that I was driving a very large bus and I’d feel really fucking bad if I killed everyone on it, and trained my eyes on the road. “Which ones?”

  “The black ones with the low waist.”

  Damn. Now I had a visual.

  “That’s not very kinky,” I said, as if my dick wasn’t rock hard. I shifted in my seat, trying to accommodate the hard-on in my jeans.

  “Again,” she said, her gaze dropping briefly to my crotch. “Depends who you are.”

  “I’m me.”

  “Well, I’m me.”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never had a guy fuck you with his pants on.”

  Katie shrugged. “Josh was very… systematic. It was all clothes off, then the lights off, then get in bed under the covers. Then let the lovemaking commence.”

  Right. Josh.

  Her only lover, before me.

  “Okay, then. Leather pants it is.”

  “See? Kinky.”

  “You’ve got one more.”

  “Is this number one or number five?”

  “Number one.”

  “Hmm.”

  She rolled the tip of her beer bottle over her lips, back and forth, as she considered. There was a dreamy, lusty look in her eyes as she gazed out at the road ahead, her eyebrows pinched. Katie was cute as all fuck when she was deep in thought.

  Especially when she was thinking through whatever sexy shit she wanted me to do to her.

  “Oh! I know.” Her face lit up and she took a self-congratulatory swig of her beer. “Do me where all your groupies can see, so they get the message and fuck off.” She smiled sweetly.

  I raised an eyebrow. “You wanna make a sex tape, babe?”

  “Oh! Forget the groupie thing. Let’s make a sex tape!”

  “Now I know you’re drunk.” I cast a sidelong glance at her; she was definitely looking a little glassy-eyed, a happy buzz curling the corners of her mouth.

  “What? I’m serious. I mean, not so we can leak it on the interwebs. Gross. I mean, so we can watch it. How’s that for kinky?” She sounded so self-satisfied, it was fucking adorable.

  I wanted to throw her down on the floor of the bus and fuck that little smirk right off her face, make her lose herself in moans and screams. If only I could get rid of the assholes playing poker in the lounge.

  Katie didn’t like screaming when the guys were around to hear it, but I sure as fuck needed to make her scream. Soon.

  Katie Bloom losing control; that was about
the sexiest, kinkiest, most arousing thing I’d ever seen.

  I cleared my throat. “Hot,” I said. “If you meant it.”

  “I do mean it.”

  “No you don’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you don’t go from lights out every time you have sex to making a sex tape.”

  “Says who? I wasn’t the one turning out the lights.”

  I swallowed that. And rearranged my throbbing dick, not bothering to be discreet about it.

  “Stopping for lunch,” I announced, to a bunch of cheers from the back.

  “No fucking burgers,” Raf called up.

  “Mexican!” Mick shouted.

  “No fucking Mexican!”

  Katie leaned around her seat to join the debate. “No more fast food! I want a real meal with something green on my plate.”

  An argument erupted over what to have for lunch, but I wasn’t listening. I didn’t care what the fuck we ate.

  As soon as the guys got off the bus, I was having Katie Bloom.

  CHAPTER 27

  KATIE

  I was hanging out behind the venue after the Austin show, leaning against the wall while Jesse signed autographs for a bunch of girls hanging out on the other side of the fence. It was a high, solid wood fence, but there was a big gate of chain link where the buses and trucks drove through, padlocked shut, and the girls were pressed up against it, squeezing pieces of paper and who knew what else through the holes for him to sign.

  Jude was close by, as always, and I watched for a while as Jesse did his thing.

  When he was done, Pepper and Raf went over to greet the girls and sign stuff for them too.

  Jesse sauntered over to me, looking me up and down in my short skirt and halter top. He looked so fucking hot in his leather pants. Gorgeous, a sexy smile curling the corner of his mouth.

  Devi’s words kept coming back to me.

  You’re falling for him.

  Maybe he’s falling for you, too.

  I’d realized a few days back that I’d been waiting for Jesse to start being a dick. Like when he did, I’d finally be getting a glimpse of his true colors, as if, if I paid close enough attention, he’d start showing signs of his overwhelming douchebaggery.

  But he just never did.

 

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