Dirty Like Me Page 21

  I could work with that.

  “That is the most amazing… most mellowest… yet potent weed I’ve ever…” Katie said between bites. She was sitting cross-legged in her cut-offs, her tits bare beneath her thin tank top, her smooth, pale skin looking slightly sun-kissed.

  I mellowed out against the pillows in my jeans, idly playing my guitar. “Cool. Now tell me why you don’t want to be an artist.”

  I serenaded her while she thought about that, bits of Dirty Like Me and Eric Clapton’s Layla and I didn’t even know what else, just some fragments that had been bouncing around in my head and might turn into a new song.

  Finally, she said, “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you’re crazy talented and you obviously love doing it. You’re always drawing in that book. So what’s the problem?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Bullshit. Haven’t you ever dreamed of making a living off the thing you love doing?”

  “Of course.”

  “So what happened to that dream?”

  She shrugged. “Life happened. I used to draw like a fiend. And I painted all through my teens. Pretty much since I was about ten years old and I realized drawings and paintings weren’t just things on walls or in books, they were something I could do.”

  Damn. She painted too? I’d pay money to see a Katie Bloom original. And not just because she had a sweet ass and perfect, lickable tits.

  “And?” I prompted.

  “And I hung out with a bunch of skater kids and some of them were into street art so I got into that.”

  “Street art? You mean graffiti?”

  “Yeah. You really want to see my work, there are remnants of it all over Vancouver. I can tell you where to go.”

  “I will,” I said.

  She shook her head, brushing that off like it wasn’t even worth pretending to believe. “I just kinda got lost along the way, you know? I think it started when I got arrested.”

  My hands stilled on the guitar. “You what?”

  “I got arrested.”

  “Sweet Katie Bloom? Mug shots and everything?”

  She scowled at me. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been arrested, Mr. Badass Rock Star.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Scout’s honor. Ask Jude, Brody, anyone.”

  “Oh. Well, I did. It’s not fun. I was eighteen and I was dating Josh, so his dad’s lawyers were able to get the charges dropped, and eventually got the record purged. Which is why Jude never found it.” She grinned a little sheepishly.

  “What the hell did you do to get arrested?”

  “Got caught in the vicinity of a wall I’d just painted on, with my paints. And then they found the weed.”

  “Shit. You were a badass.”

  “Not really. Just a kid.” She finished the last of her sandwich and started into the iced vanilla latte with extra whipped cream that Jude had picked up for her. He’d even found her some cherries. “The whole experience was brutal. Josh’s parents decided I was a misfit at that point. He defended me to them, more or less, but over time I could tell he’d lost respect for me. If he ever had it in the first place. He always acted like if he could just clean me up a little I’d be more acceptable.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yup. It came up in little ways, pretty much daily. It seems so stupid now that I didn’t see it then, the way he would criticize my friends and the music I listened to, every little fucking thing. When we went to dinner with his parents, he’d veto my outfits and tell me to change into something more ‘presentable.’ When he jumped ship at the altar, I’m pretty sure they were elated.”

  “You ask me, you dodged a bullet.” It was obvious to me that the douche didn’t deserve her. But I was pretty sure she didn’t believe that yet.

  “Yeah, except… I’d just graduated from art school, and Josh’s dad owned an art gallery. One of his many investments. We were planning to have my big debut there that winter. Not like he actually gave a shit about art, or me, but more like he was throwing me a bone to win points with his son. As soon as the wedding was off, Josh, Senior canceled the show.”

  “Oh, fuck.”

  “Oh, yeah. ’Cause that’s what happens, apparently, when your fiancé ditches you and your first big art show is supposed to take place at his father’s gallery. You get dumped twice over.”

  “Jesus.” Douche Junior and Douche Senior.

  “Uh-huh. Personally and professionally kicked to the curb.” She slurped her drink. “Lost my studio space in that great purge as well. Also owned by—”

  “Josh, Senior?”

  “You got it. No way I could afford the rent on a studio of my own, so after that I moved my things into my sister’s basement.”

  “That’s shitty, Katie. But you know you can’t let it stop you, right?” I wondered if she’d thought about using the money from this tour to start something up, but it was pretty obvious she didn’t have the confidence to believe she could really make her way as an artist. Not yet.

  “Yeah. Well.” She shrugged. “You ask me why I don’t want to do anything with my art. It’s not that I don’t. It’s just that I don’t know what to do anymore, or even where to start.” She flipped idly through her sketchbook, not bothering to hide the pages from me anymore, but I didn’t look. I didn’t want to look again until she invited me to.

  She caught me watching her and gave me a sweet smile. “I guess I kind of lost my mojo.”

  “Then we’ll just have to get it back.”

  “Yeah,” she said quietly.

  She flipped through her book some more, but she didn’t seem to be looking at the drawings.

  “Hey, Jesse?”

  She looked at me, her big blue-greens softening as she searched for the words. Pretty sure it was the pot, but it was a good look on her. She looked more relaxed than usual, less… on guard.

  “I know you hired me and this is a business deal, but I just want to say… I don’t know… thank you, I guess. For giving me something I never thought was possible.”

  I set my guitar aside. “Such as?”

  “Such as… I don’t know… I guess, I…” She blushed something fierce. “I just never knew that sex could, um… be like that.”

  I grinned ear to fucking ear. “Like what?” I moved closer to her on the bed, grabbing her by her hips and yanking her toward me.

  “You know.” The blush deepened. “So… volcanic.”

  I laughed and pulled her onto my lap, so she straddled me in her tiny cut-offs.

  “I’m serious,” she said, her eyebrows pinching together.

  “I know you are.” I yanked her closer against me so she could feel me getting hard for her. “But you say it like it’s some fluke…” I brushed her hair out of her face. “You’re fucking molten hot, Katie.”

  Then I rolled over, taking her with me, and started peeling off her clothes like I’d been dying to do all morning.

  CHAPTER 25

  KATIE

  Jesse’s hand skimmed over my breast. My nipple peaked in response and I glanced around.

  We were sitting in the very dark back corner of a packed club, after his Miami show. Actually, I was sitting across Jesse’s lap. I’d worn a halter top with no bra and he’d been eye-fucking me and groping me like crazy ever since he got off stage.

  Good to know that hadn’t changed since we started having sex.

  He rubbed his thumb over my taut nipple, then tugged the thin fabric of my shirt aside, baring the side of my breast—the side in front of his face. He nuzzled against me, his tongue flicking out to lick my nipple. I glanced around again but I didn’t think anyone could see. Still, I turned into him a little more to block what he was doing from the rest of the room.

  He took the opportunity to suck my nipple into his mouth. I let him suck on it for a few seconds, because really… ung. Then I wriggled free, grabbed his hair and tipped his head back, leaning in close to his face.


  “What are you doing?”

  “Helping you get your mojo back.” His nimble fingers sought out my nipple and plucked at it gently.

  “Uh…” I breathed as the pleasure throbbed through me. “Right now?”

  “Yeah. Right now.” He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and bit it gently.

  “Here?”

  “Mmm…” he said between kisses. “Why not?”

  Why not?

  Maybe because today Devi had sent me a link to some pictures of me online. Unflattering pictures. I mean, I looked fine in them. I was smiling and dancing, but I was smiling and dancing with Pepper. And Letty. And a bunch of other guys who weren’t Jesse. Because someone at the bar had taken photos of us when we were celebrating Pepper’s birthday. And now they were online, making me look like a major flirt.

  It wasn’t like it was the first time there were pictures of me online. Since we’d started the tour, Jesse and I were all over the place. Devi sent links to me almost daily, though I tried not to click on all of them. It was too much for my brain to process, but the fact was there were probably hundreds, if not thousands of photos of us out there already.

  But this was the first time there were pictures of me partying without Jesse, and I didn’t like what they implied.

  Jesse caught my chin and pulled my face to his. “Hey. You okay?”

  “Yeah. Just… embarrassed.”

  “About what?”

  “You know. Those pictures.”

  “Babe. You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  “But when we agreed to this deal you said I couldn’t get involved with anyone else. I wasn’t supposed to do anything to make you look bad. Those pictures kinda implied—”

  He wrapped his arms around me. “You didn’t make me look bad, cherry pie. You could never make me look anything but good.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re just saying that because you’re all horny and there’s no blood left in your head.”

  “That may be true, but I’m not just saying it. The fans love you. They love that I’m in love with a regular girl, not some celebrity.” He ran his thumb over my nipple again and his lips quirked. “Brody’s calling us the great Canadian love story.”

  I grinned. “Uh-huh.” I mean, it was thrilling, really. I didn’t mind being the “regular girl” in this particular love story, swept off my feet by the super-sexy hero. I just didn’t like how the story was going to end. “Except that it’s a lie. Which still feels weird to me. Being envied… and being judged for things that aren’t even true.”

  He laid his hand on the side of my face and stroked his thumb over my bottom lip. “Don’t let it bother you, Katie. None of it’s real anyway.”

  My stomach fell at those words, but I just nodded.

  “How could any of it be real?” he went on. “What the fuck does the world know about what’s really going on in people’s private lives?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing, I guess.”

  “Not a fuck of a lot, anyway.”

  He kissed me, and I tried to let it go. “We just need some more,” he mumbled between kisses.

  “More?”

  “More volcano sex.”

  I laughed.

  “That’s better. Don’t make me fuck that sad look right off your face.”

  I laughed harder and kissed him. The man had a way of making everything feel better.

  I even felt less ashamed of my floundering ambition since our pot-induced discussion about my art. In fact, sharing the details of how my life had gone so off-track with Jesse made it all seem kind of trivial and a hell of a lot less daunting, like a blip in the road, in the past, that I could finally put behind me.

  He pulled back and looked at me with his dark, hooded, ready-to-fuck eyes. “You wore your glasses tonight,” he said, and licked his lip.

  “Um… yeah?” Seriously? He liked my glasses?

  He slipped his hand up my skirt, in full view of Jude, who was sitting on the couch next to ours. “And your little white panties.”

  I bit my lip and met Jude’s gaze. He looked away. I squirmed as Jesse brushed his thumb between my legs. I leaned in and told him, “You have no shame.”

  He pulled me closer. “Tell me, Katie Bloom. What do I have to be ashamed about?”

  I didn’t have an answer for that.

  He stroked my clit and I tried to squeeze my thighs together a little to keep control. I was unraveling at his touch, but more embarrassed than usual to be doing it in public. It was unnerving. It was also dizzying, exhilarating, and hot as fuck.

  “I’ve never known anyone like you,” I said.

  “It scares you.”

  My heart beat in my throat. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he pulled my panties aside. He slipped his finger along the soft, slick flesh of my pussy… then pushed inside me.

  My mouth dropped open.

  He kissed my bottom lip, lapped his tongue into my mouth, and then we were going at it. He fingered me as we made out, his thumb rubbing against my clit. The sweet friction built, fast, heat swelling in my core. I kissed him hard, holding on tight as the pleasure gripped my body.

  “Oh, God.” I pulled away a bit, panting for breath, dangling just on the edge. “Not here,” I begged.

  He stroked me softly, his finger still inside me. My head spun. I needed to come so badly, and I could. Jesse wanted me to. But I just wanted to savor this feeling, sitting in his lap with his hand between my legs, blood and breath and pure ecstasy coursing through my body.

  I took a long, deep breath.

  Free. I wasn’t used to feeling this free.

  It felt fucking good. Incredible.

  It felt like life used to feel. Like who I used to be, who I was becoming before I fell for Josh and my life took a different path than the one I thought I wanted.

  It made me wonder about that girl. Was she here now, sitting in Jesse Mayes’ lap?

  He withdrew his hand from my skirt and leaned over to talk to Jude, then got up and took my hand.

  He led me out back, to an alley behind the club. Jude accompanied us to the door, but didn’t follow us outside. No one was around. It was quiet, just some distant traffic noise and the muffled thud of the club as we walked into the shadows.

  I glanced back, a little alarmed that Jude wasn’t coming with us. “Um… what if someone tries to mug us?”

  “Then I’ll kill them.”

  “Well, shit.” I did a little skip-step in my new pink studded Valentinos. “That’s good. Because I really wanna keep these shoes.”

  He pressed my back up against the wall. “Good. Because I really wanna do you in those shoes.” Then he got down on his knees in front of me.

  I took a shaky breath as he pushed my skirt up over my hips. I widened my stance, trying not to fall over in my four-inch heels. “Fuck,” he said, yanking my little white panties down my thighs. He skimmed his fingertip over my clit. “You, Katie Bloom, are every fucking wet dream I had when I was a kid.”

  Then he ate me out. I gasped into my hand to keep from making too much noise. I teetered in my high heels and he pressed me against the wall. He licked and sucked at my clit until I was dripping, aching, kind of wishing he would fuck me right here, but I didn’t know if he had a condom.

  While he feasted on me, he undid his jeans, took his cock out, and jacked himself off. And oh, God… it was way too fucking much. I could see him working his cock in his hand, his rings glinting in the shadows. His breaths got faster the more I squirmed with arousal. He moaned and I felt the vibrations in my clit. I came suddenly on his tongue, clutching his hair in fistfuls and gasping into the dark while he sucked on me.

  Afterward he stood up in front of me, his hard length still in his fist.

  “Didn’t do much for you?” I teased, breathless, glancing down at his cock. He hadn’t come yet.

  He held my face with his other hand and kissed me hungrily. “This is what you do to me,” he said. Then he groaned against my neck as h
e came, jerking himself on my pussy.

  After we’d caught our breath, I rubbed his come into my skin like some kind of luxury lotion, because I really didn’t know what else to do with it. He grinned and kissed me. Then I licked my fingers, because they were sticky, and again, because I didn’t know what else to do. Also, because they tasted like Jesse. His pupils dilated as he watched me do it and he bit his lip. “Fuck, Katie,” he said, then he kissed me again, deep.

  “I really should’ve saved it, to sell it on eBay,” I said, when we finally stopped making out again.

  “Huh?”

  I fixed my panties and raised an eyebrow at him as I smoothed my skirt. “The essence of Jesse Mayes. Would’ve made us a pretty penny.”

  He shook his head at me, but laughed. “You are one twisted bitch, Katie Bloom.”

  I grinned at that.

  He pulled me roughly against him, kissing me again. “How do you feel?” he mumbled against my lips.

  “Dirty,” I said as he wrapped me in his arms.

  Free, I should have said.

  ◊◊◊

  It was many days later, somewhere on the road to Nashville, that the tour bus pulled off the highway at a truck stop and I took a wander, alone with my phone.

  “I’m crazy, right?” I asked my best friend.

  As soon as I had Devi on the line, I’d filled her in on the state of things as vaguely as I could—Devi didn’t need every dirty detail, as much as she might want them—while still making it clear I’d lost my mind.

  Because the night before, Jesse and I had barely slept. Instead, we’d fucked for hours on end without any condom. I was on the pill, and he’d shown me the blood work he’d conveniently had done at the beginning of the tour, “Just in case,” with a big shit-eating grin on his face. For my part, no one had touched me in the last two years; anyway, I’d taken every test ever invented, three times over, when I found out Josh had ricocheted into the bed of one of my best friends after our almost-wedding—because who knew who or what he might’ve been doing even sooner than that. Jesse and I had discussed it in a mature fashion, then gone at it like monkeys. Skin to skin.