by Mae, Amelia
I change into a clean tee shirt before meeting the rest of the band and our entourage in the backstage bar area. Cora and Ian have to duck out early as he wants to spend one more night with baby Alicia before we get on the bus. But everyone else has energy in spades.
“We’re going out,” Jack announces. “Nikki knows some rooftop place kinda nearby.”
“That works,” Aya agrees. Shawn nods. They look over at me.
“Huh?”
My arms are around Jane, and I’ve got her kind of smashed against my chest with her face buried in my shirt. I squeeze her tightly, having our crash moment and indulging in it a little too long. But, whatever. Having Jane here with me at shows and knowing she’s coming on tour with us so I can do this after every gig feels almost too good.
“Yeah. Sounds great,” I tell them. “Why don’t you guys head over and Jane and I will catch up with you?”
“Huh?” Jane mumbles into my shirt. Guess she was a little lost in the moment too.
“There’s an interesting painting in the dressing room I think you might want to see.”
“Okay,” she says innocently. “That’s not what I thought you were going to say.”
The guys in the band smirk.
The whole lot of them clear out though, finally leaving Jane and me alone. I lead her towards the dressing room and lock the door behind us. She looks around at the walls.
“There’s no painting in here,” she says.
“Correct.”
She practically launches herself at me, searing her lips to mine. I lift her up so she can wrap her legs around my waist.
“I wanted to do that all night,” she husks out. “Fuck, I get why you want me to sit in the audience.”
I can’t talk. I’m too hard and too horny and I need inside her right fucking now.
Jane pulls at the hem of my tee shirt.
“Take this off,” she whispers.
I smirk and do as she asks, letting her touch and kiss wherever she pleases. She undoes my jeans and shoves her hands inside to stroke me.
“Don’t,” I grunt. “Too close.”
She doesn’t stop.
“Don’t want to come like this. I want to come with you,” I insist. “Inside you.”
She keeps stroking me. “It’s okay, Dylan,” she says. “Come. I want you to feel good.”
I groan. Fuck, it looks like I’m going to have to fight her on this. I pick Jane up and sit her down on the counter, grateful that she decided to wear a skirt. I get my hands inside her skirt and on her hips and slide her panties off.
“How do I convince you to give up underwear?” I groan, slipping them into my jeans pocket.
“Gonna need those back.”
I shake my head no and kiss her hard.
“Dylan,” she moans. “God.”
I drop to my knees and push her skirt up around her waist. She spreads her legs apart and leans back, inviting me in, and I bite her inner thighs.
“Please,” she gasps.
I dive in and circle her opening with my tongue.
“Ugh. Yes.”
That noise. I’ll do anything I have to to keep her making that noise. I plunge my tongue inside her and find her clit with my thumb. I move faster. She gets louder.
“Fuck, Dylan.”
She bites down hard on her bottom lip lets out a strangled whine.
She starts tasting sweeter. Her scent gets headier. She gets really, really fucking loud. I know she’s close.
I suck on her clit and mine her pussy with my fingers.
“Come for me, baby,” I murmur against her body. “Come on. Let go for me.”
She lets out this primal sound, and I get goosebumps as she comes. I keep my mouth on her, guiding her through it, until her body stops shaking and her breathing levels out.
She pushes herself up to a more seated position, but she’s wobbly, and it’s adorable. She grabs for my jeans again and tries to tug them down. I help her get them to around mid-thigh, and she decides that’s all she really needs.
She leans back and spreads herself open again. She’s making herself an offering to me. She’s glistening wet, all pink and perfect. Her chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. She fights to keep her eyes open. Her lips part, and she swallows hard.
“Please,” she pants. “More. Fuck me, Dylan.”
I’m on her like a predator on prey, lining myself up, pushing inside of her and fucking violating her sweet little mouth with my tongue. She sucks on it hard, and I’m taken by surprise, so I thrust into her harder, wrapping my arms around her waist for leverage.
“Fuck, Jane,” I grunt, “I want you here for every show. I want you backstage like this every time.”
She kisses me quiet as she comes, pulsing around me, and I tumble over the edge after her, coming and coming until I feel so drained, I can barely stand. She doesn’t stop kissing me until she’s completely spent and even so, she keeps her face close to mine.
She opens her eyes.
I press my lips to her neck, and she shivers.
“I think I’m in love with you, Jane.” My voice is so soft I wonder if she even hears me.
“I’m in love with you too,” she breathes. “Pretty sure, anyway.”
“Only pretty sure?”
She laughs and kisses me again.
About the Author
Amelia Mae hails from Los Angeles, CA and loves dirty rock songs and the stars that make them. She hopes that you’ve enjoyed reading Dylan and Jane’s story as much as she’s enjoyed writing it.
When she isn’t writing, she enjoys pole dancing classes and spending time with her two pit-bulls, Pete and Buddy.
Sneak Peak
Say Yes: Forever
Say Yes Series Book Five
Ian
For better or worse, there are some moments you remember for the rest of your life. I remember the day that my mother brought my little sister Nikki home from the hospital. I asked if we could exchange her for a boy. I remember the day my father left us and how my mother cried her eyes out and swore off men after that.
I remember the day that my mom and aunt Mary were killed by a drunk driver and Nikki clung to my hand at the funeral. I remember the months afterward where I existed, half-alive, and became a hollow shell of myself.
And I remember the day that it all ended. The day Cora Dwyer’s headshot fell into my lap and we hired her for the music video. And then, that very night when the band was celebrating at a club that Cora happened to work in. Because that was the day that the universe gave me the one thing that I couldn’t resist and told me to start living again.
And since them, there have been so many other moments seared into my memory that you couldn’t pay me enough money to give up. There was Cora’s and my first kiss. The first time we slept together. The day I proposed to her. The day that we got married.
And most recently, the day that Cora told me that I was going to be a father.
I took my wife in my arms and held her close, tears in my eyes. I couldn’t believe it.
***
“Oh my God,” Cora whines, “It’s hot as balls in here.”
She flops down on the bed in our room as I fiddle with the air conditioner. Pretty soon the room has cooled off and, thankfully, so has Cora.
“Thank you,” she mutters.
“No problem.”
“I’ll help you unpack in just a minute,” she says, “It’s just so hard to move right now.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Cora has been having a rough pregnancy. Loads of morning sickness, swelling, back aches. The whole lot of it.
And I’ve been trying to make things easy for her, but sometimes I’m afraid I’m just making it worse. I open her suitcase and one of the dresser drawers and start putting away clothes.
“Stop,” she says softly, “Come over here.”
I sit on the foot of the bed next to her.
“Lie down with me,” she whispers.
/> I kick off my shoes and lie down on top of the plush comforter next to my wife and she turns to face me. She’s about seven and a half months pregnant now. She’s got a sizable belly and she’s put on more weight than she’s comfortable with. She’s tired all the time and everything hurts.
I want to tell her that she’s beautiful. Because she is. But she won’t believe me, so I keep my mouth shut. I take her hand in mine and bring it to my lips.
“Thanks,” she whispers again.
“For what?”
She doesn’t answer, she just gets a little misty-eyed and I hold her tighter. Sure, Cora’s been achy and moody and I’ve been her metaphorical punching bag. But she’s doing the hard part here. If this is tiring and draining for me, it’s got to be twenty times worse for her, so I’ll shut up and take it.
Because there have also been plenty of sweet, perfect moments like this to make up for the less than perfect ones.
Every time I remember that Cora is with me, married to me, and having my baby… Fuck, I still get a little choked up when I think about it.
Say Yes: Forever
Coming Soon
Also Available
Say Yes: Ian
Say Yes Series Book One
Prologue
Ian
For the first time in a very long time, I do the gentlemanly thing and walk a lady to her door. I’m trying to play it cool. But, inside, I’m exploding.
This is where she lives. This is where Cora lives.
We stop in front of her door.
“This is me,” she says.
She looks at the ground, then back up at me. The blush on her face is so fucking adorable.
This is it. This is where I finally get to kiss Cora Dwyer. Holy shit.
Every dirty dream I’ve had since I was a teenager has been about this girl and it all starts with this very moment.
I lean in…
And hug her.
Fuck me. Ian, you fucking wimp.
I take a deep breath as my arms wrap around her. She presses her body into mine. Rests her head on my shoulder. Lets out a soft sigh.
Okay, this doesn’t exactly suck.
Her skin is soft and warm and she smells like green apples and… I don’t know… sexy girl?
Is that a smell?
I hold her for a long time. Definitely too long for a normal goodbye hug, but she’s not making any effort to let me go. And God knows I’ll keep her in my arms as long as she’ll let me.
“Good night, Cora,” I murmur into her hair.
“Good night.”
I let her go and my arms feel empty.
She turns for the door. I head for the stairs.
Ian, what are you doing? At least get her number, you idiot.
I hear her unlock the door. I double back before she gets inside.
“Do you have a phone?” I ask.
“Most people do,” she says, giving me a little sass.
“I mean, do you have a phone number?”
She nods, hands me her cell, and I dial myself.
“The band is having a show tomorrow night. At the Anonymous Bar,” I tell her, “It’s sold out, but I’ll put you on the list. It’ll be fun.”
“I’ll think about it,” she replies.
“I’d really like it if you came.”
She swallows and bites her bottom lip. “I’d really like to come.”
I fight the urge to say something dirty.
“Great. It’s a date,” I say.
She raises her eyebrows. I just wink.
It makes her smile, which makes my heart melt.
Deep breath.
I lean in to kiss her on the cheek. Totally innocent. Only she turns at the same time I accidentally get her mouth.
“I’m sorry,” we both stammer out, neither of us seeming all that sorry.
“It’s fine,” she says with a smirk as she takes her sweet, sweet time closing the door behind her. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
As I head for the stairs, my lips are still tingling and I’ve got a big, stupid grin on my face because I finally kissed Cora Dwyer. And we have a date tomorrow.
Well. Sort of.
Ian
One Day Earlier
We sit around the coffee table of our manager, Christian’s lavish apartment in West Hollywood. He finishes arranging about fifty headshots. Models. Women. All objectively good-looking.
Though, to be honest, they all look sort of the same to me.
Tall, busty, blonde, flawless. So flawless they’re almost plastic.
We’re casting the girl for our upcoming video, Her Name in Stars. Christian insists that she be both girl-next-door pretty and the sexiest knockout he’s ever seen.
Anywhere in between simply will not do.
As he scans the picture and tosses the rejects to the floor, I’m beginning to understand why women complain about being held to an impossible standard of beauty.
Personally, I don’t care who they choose. It’s the best song our band, Say Yes, has ever recorded and I know in my bones that it’s going to be a huge hit. Like the kind of hit that’s going to help us cross the line from opening act to headliners.
The video and the girl are just the icing on the cake.
Dylan, our singer and the one who wrote the song, considers the models scrupulously. No doubt, he’s trying to find a girl who resembles the now infamous Jane Doe who inspired the song. He sighs, disappointed.
Jack, our guitarist and his step-brother Shawn, our bassist, trade the headshots like playing cards, deciding which brother got to sleep with which model in some alternate universe where they guys get to assemble a harem of beautiful women to indulge their every fantasy. Not that either brother ever struggles for female attention. It’s just their twisted way of amusing themselves.
“Ian,” Christian says with his authoritative air, “You could take an interest in this. Or at least pretend to pay attention.”
He’s right. I mean, our first model bailed on us for a better paying gig. She kind of interrupted our entire shooting schedule. And in order to get the video done on time, the new model is going to have to go in with virtually no rehearsal.
And the shoot is in two days, so we have to choose someone fast.
I nod and force my gaze down at the photos. It isn’t a hardship, really, being forced to look at pictures of beautiful women. Judging them is weird though.
The door opens and my younger sister Nikki, Christian’s assistant, enters with coffee and food. She talks to Christian about the band’s schedule for the day. Nikki may be my family, but when she’s in work-mode, she pretends not to know me. She hates that she has this job because of nepotism, but she’s worth her weight in gold as far as the band’s concerned.
“Nikki, come here,” Jack beckons, holding up a picture of a raven-haired model. “What do you think of her?”
Nikki takes the photo and considers it. “Wouldn’t kick her out of bed,” she says with a flirty smile, handing him a coffee. He squeezes her on the shoulder.
I don’t mind my sister befriending my bandmates, not that I really get a choice in the matter. She is an adult. It is weird, however, that she's especially close with Jack. I mean, my sister has that eternal Disney-princess type innocence and Jack is a pretty proud manwhore.
Nikki straightens her conservative pencil skirt and smooths her less-than-conservative pastel rainbow hair and continues to stare at the model. “She looks familiar, but I can’t quite place her.”
“What’s her name?” I ask.
“Cora Dwyer.”
I blink. Twice. I can’t have heard that properly.
“Why does that sound so familiar?” Nikki asks.
Jack and Shawn look at me knowingly and I feel my face get hot.
Jack cracks an evil smile. Or at least as much of a smile as Jack is capable of. “Are you blushing?”
Fuck, I’m not that fifteen-year-old weirdo anymore. I’m Ian fucking Brooks. Drummer for Say Yes. M
y band has been on the cover of Rolling Stone for chrissakes. And not to sound like a complete prick, but I don’t have to work too hard for female attention anymore.
I grab the picture from Nikki at the very moment Jack lunges for it. We wrestle for the flimsy photo, wrinkling and tearing it in the process. Jack ultimately wins and considers his prize.
“She looks good,” he says, knowing he’s getting under my skin. “Her tits finally came in.”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” I snap.
“Damn, if I’d know that Little Miss Perfect would turn out that hot, I’d have taken a run at her when I had the chance,” Jack teases. His eyes gleam like’s picturing it.
I roll my eyes.
It’s been this way since high school. If I liked a girl, I’d brood and admire her from afar. But Jack would go right up to her, yank her ponytail and whisper something dirty in her ear. And, for some reason, his way always worked.
I make another grab for the photo, but fail to pry it from Jack’s grip.
“Enough,” Christian bellows. “If Ian needs a minute to jerk off to a pretty model, let him. Whatever gets this done before my next meeting.”
Jack cedes the photo to me and I stare at it, my eyes wide.
She looks exactly the same as she did when we were young. I mean, she looks older, obviously, more womanly, but she still has that spark. Her thick black hair, tousled and windswept, her deep, chocolate brown eyes as thoughtful and mysterious as I remember. But what intrigues me most is the expression on her face. A crooked smirk, amused and playful, like the moment before she was about to burst out laughing.
It makes me smile.
Christian creeps up behind me, startling me while I’m lost in thought. He takes the picture and considers it.
“She’s kind of perfect, don’t you think?” he asks.
“I think…”