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Play Dirty (The Devil's Share #2) Page 16
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She pushed me back onto the mattress and crawled up my body. She straddled my hips and removed my shirt while I took off my pants. Once I was naked I picked her up by her hips and laid her down on the bed, covering her body with mine. Her skin on mine felt so damn good. “You ready, baby?”
She nodded. “You know I am.”
I filled her completely, with nothing between us. I started to move in and out of her, slowly. I’d had “careful” sex with her, on nights when she was sore. But I’d never been slow like. I was trying really hard here to be passionate, to show her I loved her without saying the words. It was foreign to me.
Dylan scraped her nails down my back, making it arch on its own accord, before griping my ass in her hands. “Babe. What are you doing?” I could hear the barely contained humor in her words.
I hung my head. “I’m trying to, uh, you know… I’m trying to make love to you here. And you laughing at me isn’t helping.”
She took my face in her hands. “Look at me, Smith.” I reluctantly met her eyes. “Every time we come together like this, I feel loved.” She shook her head. “You don’t need to change anything about it.” She smacked her hand on my ass. “Now. Fuck me.”
I couldn’t help but grin down at her. Not only did she let me be me, she liked me this way. I wanted to tell her that I loved her, that she was the best part of my life. But I couldn’t get the words out. So instead, I made love to her the only way I knew how. I pulled all the way out and then pile drove back into her. I thrust into her over and over. “This what you want, baby?”
“Yes! Smith, don’t stop.”
I fisted my hands in her dark strands. “I wouldn’t stop, even if you asked me to.” We both knew I was lying, that I would stop if she asked. I was so damn whipped I’d jump out the window if she told me it would make her happy. “You’re so damn tight, feels fucking perfect.” I buried myself balls deep and started to grind.
“Just like that.”
I nuzzled her neck, whispering in her ear. “I know what you need. I know how to make you scream my name.”
She moaned and arched her neck, giving me better access. “More.”
She meant my words. My balls tightened, her asking for it like this, wanting it dirty…I didn’t know how much longer I could last. I let out a quiet low chuckle, keeping my mouth against her neck. “My girl likes it dirty? Tell me, baby, tell me how dirty you like it.” I gripped her thigh, hiking it up higher on my hip, driving into her deeper.
“Fuck.” Her hands pushed down on the top of my ass, giving her hips some more leverage. “Please, Smith…”
I pulled all the way out before surging all the way in again and staying there. “No one will ever be able to fuck you like I do. I know what you like, I know what to say to make you dripping wet.” I grinded inside her, my pelvis rubbing her clit. “Milk my dick, baby.”
She arched her back and cried out my name as her pussy clenched. I pumped in and out, quickly, chasing my release. I growled as I spilled inside her.
After we had both caught our breath Dylan reached down over the side of the bed. She held up the chocolate sauce. “Ready for dessert?”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Dylan
It was a week later and we were finally at the end of the tour. We were in New Orleans and I could tell Smith was uncomfortable. I let him keep me naked in bed until it was time to get dressed for the show. I’d been having the best sex of my life for seven days straight. Hands down, no comparison. I had never felt so loved, so sated…ever. Who knew that the dirtier he fucked me, the more cherished I would feel? I looked up as he came out of the bathroom, a towel around his waist and another in his hand drying his hair.
“I have a present for you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Is it in that Nordstrom bag that was delivered when you were in the shower?” I nodded to the desk where it was sitting.
He narrowed his eyes. “Maybe…did you open it?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Did you peek?”
“Nope. I put in on the desk and then came over here and sat on my hands so I wouldn’t ruin your surprise.”
His smile turns wicked. “You wearing panties? You want to sit on my hands for a minute?”
I laughed. “Is there ever a moment when you aren’t horny?”
“No.” He picked up the box and brought it to the bed.
I took it from him, holding the top and letting the bottom slide to the mattress. Inside was a blood red blazer. “Wow, babe. Thank you.”
“It’s to wear over your shirt.” He motioned back to the box.
There was a heather gray shirt with the words SMITH JAMES IS A SEX GOD staring back at me. “You gift wrapped I shirt I already own?”
“No…I had a new one made. Pull it out.”
I pulled the shirt out and let it unfold itself as I held it up in front of me. SMITH JAMES IS A SEX GOD, and then in smaller letters, WHO IS HOPELESSLY IN LOVE WITH ME. “Oh my God.” I dropped the shirt and looked at him, tears in my eyes.
He grinned and took my face in his hands. “I’m not good with words. Expressing my emotions is hard for me. I’ll never be the most romantic man in the world…but I love the fuck out of you, Cher.”
I giggled. “I love the fuck out of you too, babe.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Smith
Dylan was walking beside me, her hand in mine, her red blazer covering the dirty words on the shirt I had made for her this morning. All the public could read was SMITH JAMES and then, IS HOPELESSLY IN LOVE WITH ME. Which was perfect. I wanted the whole damn world to know. We were on our way to meet up with her parents. Dylan didn’t know they were going to be here. I knew she had wanted to get them tickets to the festival, and I knew that she hadn’t asked because she didn’t want to stress me out any more than I already was. And I loved her for it.
I hated being back in my hometown. Everything held a memory, a bad memory. This place was haunted for me. I wanted out of here as soon as possible. The band knew it too. After the show was over we were walking off the stage and back onto our bus and then pulling out. I had come a long way in the past month, but I had no doubt that running into someone from my past would send me reeling. And I didn’t want that. I wanted to be strong, be healthy for Dylan. I never thought I’d ever want to settle down, come home to one chick for the rest of my life. But as long as that chick was Dylan, I was game if she was. I didn’t deserve her, by any stretch of the imagination. And there were things about me…things about my past that might be a deal breaker for her. But we’d talk about them after the tour was officially over. After I made it through tonight.
“Mom? Dad?!” Dylan let go of my hand and threw herself at her parents. The way they looked at her, with so much love…I’d never get over it. She turned back to me. “Did you know they would be here?”
I just smiled. Her dad stepped forward and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Thanks for the tickets, son.” When he said son, it sounded nice and calm. Not like the way it sounded when my dad said it, like an insult. “Bryan has been jumping with excitement all day.”
I smiled. “My pleasure, I’m glad you guys could make it.”
Dylan’s smile got even bigger. “Bryan is here too?!” She threw her arms around my waist and kissed my lips. “You are the BEST boyfriend. EVER.”
I returned her hug. “I sent a ticket for Mikah too, but she couldn’t make it.” I glanced around. “Where is Bryan?”
Dylan looked over her shoulder, then back to her parents. “Yeah, where is she?”
Dylan’s mom answered, “Oh your friend Jacks offered to take her on a tour. He is such a sweetheart, that boy.”
I felt Dylan stiffen beside me. My smile froze, but I made sure to keep it in place. “Oh, okay, great.” I looked down at Dylan. “Cher, why don’t you take your parents backstage and make them a drink?” I pointed at her dad. “Dylan tells me you are a scotch man.”
He chuckled, “Guilty.”
“Well, you need to meet our drummer, Luke. He has always has some good stuff with him.” I started to back away. “I’ll just go round up Jacks and Bryan real quick.”
Before anyone can say another word I headed down the hall, visions of murdering our lead guitarist dancing in my head. I didn’t need Jacks banging Dylan’s sister in some Porta-Potty at a music festival. And he’d do it too—hot and legal was hot and legal. And I had a feeling that Bryan might be into that sort of thing. Those little innuendo jokes at dinner told me that girl had a wild streak in her. I spotted Chase a few yards away. “Chase!”
He turned when he heard his name and met me halfway. “What’s up, man? I thought you were staying backstage?”
My body froze. He was right…I never intended to go out into the crowd. I wanted to turn tail and run back to the safety of our security team. The last thing I fucking needed was to see someone from my past. I needed to find Bryan and get the hell out of here. “Have you seen Jacks?”
He nodded, “Yeah. You just missed him.”
“Did he have a girl with him?”
“Yeah. He was carrying some chick over his shoulder. Damn she was hot as fuck too.”
I let out an irritated sigh, “She’s Dylan’s younger sister.”
His eyes got wide. “How much younger?”
“Legal. But still younger.”
“They went that way.” He pointed further down the hall, “Run.”
I ran. No lie, I sprinted. If those two fucked this up for me, I’d kill them. As I rounded the corner I saw them. Bryan was sitting on top of a large amp in the back of a U-Haul van. Jacks was kneeling in front of her, his hand on her knee.
“Jacks! What the fuck are you doing, man?!”
He looked up, confused. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
I stalked towards him. “It looks like you are about to…” I let my words trail off as I saw what was actually going on. “…ice down Bryan’s clearly swollen ankle.”
She smiled up at me. Chase was right; she was beautiful, just like her sister. “Hi, handsome.”
I shook my head. “I see you’ve met Jacks.”
She smile turned wicked. “Yes, I have. And you’re right. I like him.”
I shook my head. “Your parents are looking for you.”
She smirked. “I have no doubt.”
Two words. Hand. Full.
Jacks stood, his hands on his hips, glaring at me. “I took Bryan to show her the stage and…
She finished his sentence. “And I tripped over a wire.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Which is why you were carrying her over your shoulder?”
He shrugged, but didn’t say anything. Bryan reached down and adjusted her ice, winking. “I’m surprisingly clumsy for an athlete.”
Jacks and I got Bryan back to the dressing room and a medic came and wrapped her ankle. The light by the door flashed yellow and I walked to Dylan, kissing her softly. “That’s our cue, Cher.” When I looked up to tell her parents to enjoy the show, I found her dad watching me. He didn’t look mad, but he didn’t look happy either. “So your all access passes will get you everywhere. You can watch side stage, or if you want seats we have those reserved for you too.”
Bryan stood, leaning on Jacks’s shoulder. “Let’s watch backstage with Dylan.”
Her mom looked at her, worry etched in her face. “You can barely stand, sweetheart. Maybe a seat would be better.”
“I’m sure they can find me a chair.” She reached up and tugged on Jacks’s hair. “Right, Jacky Boy?”
He nodded, laughing under his breath. “Yeah, doll, we can get you a chair.”
Jacky Boy? Doll? I looked over at Dylan and saw her eyes narrowed in confusion as well. The light flashed red. Guess we’d have to address it later.
In the middle of our set the lights went down and the rest of the band left the stage. A tech walked out and handed me my acoustic guitar, the one that I kept on the bus and picked up now when I felt the need to escape. That guitar and Dylan had become my lifelines. I stepped up to the mic and strummed the first few chords of a song I knew my girl would recognize instantly. I smiled as I began to sing a sweet, slow cover of “Free Fallin’” by Tom Petty. I poured all the love and emotion I had for Dylan into the song. The crowd had their cell phones out and lit up, like a thousand little fireflies. I didn’t address the audience when I was done, because that’s just not who I was. And I didn’t need to. Dylan would know what the song meant, and that was all that mattered to me. She was all that would ever matter.
***
The show went great, like it always did. We were a well-oiled machine at this point. I couldn’t keep my eyes off Dylan. I knew her dad caught me eye fucking her at least three times. But I just couldn’t help it. She looked sexy as hell. I needed to order her some more of those fuck me shoes. I wanted to feel the heels of them digging into my ass later. I knew we had a lot to discuss over the next few days, but after getting through the show without my family showing up, I was ready to celebrate.
We’d all been hanging out backstage for an hour or so. But finally her parents stood and started giving out hugs and handshakes. Her mom was a hugger, through and through. “It was so nice to see you again, Christie.” I said as she squeezed me tight.
“Oh, we had the best time. Thank you so much for inviting us.”
Dylan’s dad hugged her. Then he grabbed my hand pulling my body closer to his and very quietly said, “No dad wants their little girl to grow up and fall for a rock star…” My heart sank at his words, “…but you seem like a good guy. And it’s more than obvious that you love my daughter. So, you have my blessing.” He stepped back, releasing my hand from his firm grip. He pointed at me and added, “You get what I’m saying, son?”
I nodded. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”
Later, I was holding Dylan’s hand in mine and we were finally walking back to the safety of the bus. I’d never wanted to be locked inside that thing more than I did right then. I’d faced my fears; I’d played at home. And now I wanted to leave. The rest of the band and Lexi stayed behind to do a small meet and greet. They had told the promoter I was sick.
“Smith.”
I stopped in my tracks, that voice causing a cold sweat to break out over my whole body. I slowly turned to face my father. “You need to leave, right fucking now or I will have security escort you off the premises.”
“Is that anyway to talk to your dad?”
Dylan’s hand was firm in mine, and I could feel her eyes on me. I knew she was probably just as paralyzed with fear as I was after everything she knew about my hatred for my family. I took a deep breath. “You are not my father. You are nothing to me.” Even I couldn’t deny the slight shake to my voice. After ten years, seeing this man in the flesh still caused that reaction.
“You listen good, boy, because this is the last time I am going to say this. You will change your story about what happened that night. You will tell them it was all an accident and you will help your cousin. He is your family, and family sticks together.”
“No.”
“You sure about that?”
I took a step towards him. “Hell yes I’m fucking sure. You are not my family. Jared is not my family. Lexi? The band? That baby? They are my family.” I looked down at Dylan, squeezing her hand in mine. “Dylan is my family.”
He shook his head, a smile on his face. “Well, then you leave me no choice. I know Jared warned you…I’m going to get up on that stand and tell my truth, tell them what you did to your poor mother. Anything you say in court after that? Won’t matter.”
My pulse started to race. “Shut your fucking mouth. Don’t you dare talk about her.”
His eyes darted to Dylan, the evil glint in them making me sick. “Did he tell you about that? He didn’t, did he? If he did you wouldn’t be standing there, clutching his hand like that.” He shrugged, “He killed his mother when he was twelve. I told him to leave her alone. I told him sh
e would be fine. But he didn’t listen. He was crying like a little bitch. Never was much of a man. He thought he was, though. Didn’t you, son?”
My whole world was crumbling. Everything I’d worked so hard for over the past couple of months was going up in smoke. And to think, we had only been a few steps from the bus.
My dad kept talking, like he was telling a bad bedtime story. “He dragged her to the car and then climbed behind the wheel. He didn’t make it two miles before he hit that tree.” He looked over at me. “Should’ve strapped her in, huh boy?”
I was suddenly caught up in the memory of that day. There was so much blood, even before I crashed the car. I couldn’t get her to wake up, and my dad wouldn’t help me. I’d tried to see over the wheel…. I’d tried so hard to do a good job. My knees felt weak. I barely reacted when Dylan dropped my hand. Hell, I knew it was coming. Who would want to spend the rest of their life with a man that killed his own mother? Who would want to be in a band with that man? Who would want to have kids with that man? My dad won. It was all over. But he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction, and I wouldn’t let him have it. “I will always regret what I did. Mom dying was the worst thing that has ever happened to me. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of her.” I stood up straighter. “But you? I never think of you. You don’t exist to me—”
The sound of a gunshot silenced my words. My head jerked up and I heard my dad scream.
“That was a warning shot.”
Dylan was standing next to me with a pistol in her hand and that pistol was trained on my dad. Holy shit.
“Dylan? Cher, what are you doing? He isn’t worth it. He isn’t worth any of this.”
She spared me a glance and then looked back at my dad. “He’s right, you know. You are the most worthless piece of shit I have ever met in my entire life. You don’t deserve to call him son. And if I ever hear you do it again, I’ll shoot you.” My dad took a step towards her and she fired again, right next to his foot, causing dust and dirt to fly everywhere. “Not joking, old man.”