“Definitely not.” She blushed again, which was good. She could use some more color in her face. “Just… nervous.”
And maybe I was an asshole, but that made me smile. Ear-to-fucking-ear.
One of Jude’s guys appeared with the gum and Katie shoved a stick in her mouth. “Thank you.”
Then one of Liv’s minions called things to order and Liv strode over to us again.
“We’re going to run through the song a few times,” she said, “covering everything from different angles, then we’ll push in for the closeups.”
Katie nodded, chewing furiously.
Liv turned to me. “Feel free to go with what feels natural, like we talked about, and I’ll let you know when we need to change it up.”
“Got it.”
“Let’s lose the robe and the gum,” Liv called out as she took her position near the monitor where she’d be watching what the camera captured.
Brody killed the music. Someone cleared my guitar away and handed over a couple of tissues for our gum. A wardrobe girl appeared to take Katie’s robe.
Katie kicked off her shoes, took a little breath and unwrapped, shrugging the robe off her shoulders. The wardrobe girl took it, adjusted one of Katie’s bra straps, and got out of the way.
Katie and I were alone by the bed, the lights shining over us. Everyone was looking at us.
At her.
The girl was petite perfection. Creamy smooth skin. Slim, curvy bod with a tiny waist and fat, natural tits. And those sweet, round hips…
I almost fucking drooled. I was a total hip man. Hips and ass. Give me something to grip while I fucked a girl.
“Okay, Katie, we’ll get started with you on top,” Liv called over. “We’ll run through the song once to get everyone warmed up.”
“Okay,” Katie said. She looked at me, glanced at my crotch, but just stood there.
“Well, babe,” I said. “You heard the woman.” I leaned back on my hands to give her full access to my lap. “Hop on.”
She rolled her eyes a bit. I caught that much before she averted her gaze and climbed onto the bed. She crawled awkwardly over my legs and finally looked up at me from under her dark hair.
I leaned forward, my lips brushing her cheek as I whispered in her ear, “Probably wanna get closer, if we’re gonna fuck.” I grabbed those pretty hips and she gasped as I yanked her toward me, forcing her to sit in my lap. Her crotch was still inches from mine, but it was a start. And she could go ahead and complain about the unprofessional way I was manhandling her to whoever would listen. I didn’t care. Totally worth it to see that startled look on her face and that slow blush creeping down her chest, her breasts heaving as she breathed.
We stared at each other. This close, I could practically taste her. She smelled like candy and fucking sunshine. Like cinnamon gum and homemade cherry pie.
Then Liv announced that we were rolling and the song started playing.
The song.
The best song I’d ever written. Co-written.
“Dirty Like Me.”
A classic Dirty song from our first album, I’d recorded a new, stripped-down version for my solo album, almost ten years after that original recording. The timing seemed right, and since the song was a fan favorite I hoped it would help sell the new album. The new songs.
Besides, I loved this song. The song, and Katie Bloom in my lap, kinda made this whole shoot worth it.
The camera had us in profile so I held Katie by the hips, leaned in close and ran the tip of my nose down her neck, just barely brushing her skin. She smelled even better up close. She tipped her head back, giving me access, and put her arms loosely around my neck, sitting up straighter so I could graze my lips down over her throat, her collarbone. As the lyrics kicked in I sang them to her softly, letting my breath tickle her skin as I almost-kissed her.
We weren’t actually supposed to kiss. That was Liv’s whole approach to the video, and I trusted her vision.
No actual kissing. Just a big fucking tease.
Right around the time Katie started wriggling around in my lap in response to my touch, I started second-guessing that whole plan.
“Slide your hands down, Jesse,” Liv called out, so I did. I slid my hands down over Katie’s round ass and squeezed her tight, plump cheeks through her lace panties.
Then Liv called, “Cut.”
I let go of Katie’s ass and after a small delay she let her arms drop from my shoulders.
Liv explained that we were gonna do the whole thing again from a different angle and had us turn slightly, so we were in the same position, but the camera could now see more of Katie’s face.
I didn’t take my eyes off Katie’s.
“What?” I demanded when she didn’t blink.
“Nothing,” she said, her voice all soft and breathless. “I just… kinda love this song.”
Yeah. What chick didn’t?
You asked me, lyrically, it was the best song ever written. I could say that, since I didn’t write the lyrics.
Of course, she probably loved it because she was used to Zane singing it.
She tried to break the gaze, but I grabbed her chin and held her. Just before we got rolling again, I leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Careful what you wish for, sweetheart.”
She blinked her big blue-green eyes at me. As we started shooting, she whispered in my ear. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Cut,” Liv called out. “Katie, we can see your lips moving. Save the talking for between takes, please. Let’s start that one again, from the top.”
The song started again and we followed Liv’s directions as we pretended to make out. As Katie got more comfortable her hands strayed over my back. Her fingernails dug into my skin, sending little pricks of pleasure straight to my dick. And every time I squeezed her ass and made her gasp, or brushed my lips across her skin and made her shiver, my balls tightened. My nipples hardened. Goosebumps started tingling across my skin.
Fuck me.
“It means,” I said, pulling her close in the next break, “you shouldn’t have thrown your hat in the ring unless you were ready to ride with the big bulls.”
“That’s a weirdly mixed metaphor,” she said in a disapproving schoolteacher tone, which was hot as fuck on her. All she needed was a pair of glasses and I’d spring wood.
As soon as we started shooting again, my hands went back to her ass to resume groping exactly where they’d left off. I squeezed her so hard her panties came down an inch and she flashed a scowl at me.
I winked.
“Cut,” Liv called. “Katie, we’re on you now, so watch your facial expressions, okay? We wanna see the heat. You’re madly in love, this is the best morning of your life. And Jesse?”
“Yeah, boss.”
“Stop fucking around, whatever you’re doing.”
I grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
Katie narrowed her pretty eyes at me.
I didn’t stop. I kept on doing anything and everything I thought I could get away with to make Katie Bloom uncomfortable, and possibly aroused.
Call me immature, but yeah, I was that brat at school who pulled the hair of the girl I had a crush on.
Some things never changed.
I pretended to get my thumb caught in her panties and flashed a full ass cheek at the camera. I accidentally bit her earlobe while I was whisper-singing in her ear. I yanked so hard on her bra strap while we were pawing each other that her pretty pink nipple popped right out.
That actually was an accident, but no way she was gonna believe it. No one actually saw it but me, since her back was to camera when it happened, so I just went ahead and fixed it, slipping the stretchy lace over the perfect pink bud before she could react.
When I looked into her eyes again there was a definite spark there. A spark of outrage, maybe.
At least I had her full attention.
The next few takes became a kind of groping argument, a silent battle over who could irrit
ate the other into more discomfort, or in my case, increasing horniness.
To my frustration, she was quickly winning.
At least our little wrestling match must’ve been reading well on camera, because Liv was fucking loving it. She kept saying things like, “More!” and “Yes, like that. Grab him harder, Katie. Think of all the girls who want to be where you are right now and make it count. Rip him to shreds.”
Jesus.
At one point, when Katie pulled my hair and bit my neck, Liv actually applauded.
I was starting to gain a new appreciation for music video shoots.
But while I was getting horny, I was pretty sure Katie was just getting mad. Because in-between the next few increasingly-sweaty takes we carried on a stilted argument, which went something like…
Her (with a dirty look): “I didn’t throw anything in a ring, you know. I didn’t even want to be here.”
Me (trying to ignore my inconvenient semi): “Uh-huh.”
Her: “I’m only here because my best friend is an incredible talent agent and so good at her job that she convinced me to do this.”
Me: “What?”
Her: “I’m not even a model.”
Her: “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
Her: “So if you don’t like what I’m doing or you want me gone, you can go ahead and fire me.”
Her: “Wait. Does that mean my agent won’t get paid?”
Me: “You seriously didn’t want this job?”
Her (panicking a little): “Forget what I said. Can my agent still get paid if I waive my fee and we call it even?”
Me: “You’re only here because she made you do it?”
Her: “Yes. I mean… no. Um.”
Her (floundering): “I mean… you seem… popular… and everything…”
Me: “Cut.”
Liv threw me a black look. She hated it when I called “Cut” on her set. Which I usually did a lot, but fuck it. We weren’t even shooting when I said it, but I was that fucking distracted by Katie Bloom’s rambling.
“I need a word with Katie,” I growled. “Talk amongst your fucking selves.”
As the crew made themselves busy, I pulled Katie closer to me, shifting her hips up my thighs until we were almost groin-to-groin. Brody cranked the music. This time it was AC/DC, “You Shook Me All Night Long,” because Brody was a fucking smart-ass—and he knew no dude could hear this song at the same time he had a half-naked chick this hot in his lap and not get aroused as fuck.
“Do you even know who I am?” I demanded, my nose an inch from Katie’s.
She swallowed. “You’re Jesse Mayes.”
“Right. What does that mean to you?”
Blank. Big blue-greens blinking at me. “Um… what do you mean?”
“Do. You. Know. Who. I. Am.”
“Um… yeah,” she said, her voice getting smaller. “You’re Jesse Fucking Mayes. You play lead guitar for Dirty and you just put out a solo album.” She looked embarrassed, guarded, and maybe a little annoyed. “Is there something else I should know?”
I stared at her, totally fucking bewildered. Maybe because it’d been so long since I’d had a chick in my lap who wasn’t full-out, tits-up star-struck. Actually, not sure I’d ever had a chick in my lap who wasn’t star-struck, since I was already a musician by the time I started getting chicks in my lap.
Hell, even Elle had stars in her eyes when we fucked, and she was probably more famous than I was.
“I thought you were fucking struck, sweetheart,” I said, trying like hell to figure her out. “That look you gave Zane, seen it like a million times.”
“Struck?” She looked at me kinda blankly again. “What do you mean, struck?”
“You know, dumbstruck. Star-struck. Cock-struck.”
Her cheeks flushed pink and she wriggled a little in my lap like she was trying to put more distance between us. No fucking chance. My fingers dug into her sweet hips, holding her there. “Um… no,” she said.
And fuck me, but I believed her.
She was breathing heavier though, and that blush I was starting to like one fuck of a lot was creeping down her chest. She looked flustered as hell.
And I was suddenly stiff.
What the fuck was happening?
“No?” My hands twitched, tightening, gripping her hips harder. Probably bruising her.
“Sorry.” She swallowed. “That I’m not… cock-struck.”
I licked my lips like a fucking puppy. This girl was giving whole new meaning to the term. Because my cock was struck. I was hard as fuck. Luckily the girl was still looking in my eyes and hadn’t noticed the hard-on a mere breath away from the lace covering her clit.
“Um… I’m confused, though,” she said. “Is it Zane’s cock or yours that I’m supposed to be cock-struck for?” Then her teeth caught on her plump pink bottom lip and I almost fucking groaned aloud.
Was I fucking stupid? Was I just jaded as fuck? Because it never even occurred to me that the girl wasn’t angling for at least one of us.
“Dylan?” I said, swallowing hard.
“Um… I dig the kilt and all, but no.” She leaned in, wrapping her arms around my neck, breathing her hot little breaths in my ear. “Before last week,” she whispered all breathless, like she was asking me to eat her pussy, “I didn’t know a one of you existed.”
Fuck. Did she have any idea how much she was turning me on?
“Jesse,” Liv called out. “Can we get rolling?”
“Yeah,” I said, never taking my eyes off Katie’s. The tiniest smile twitched at the corners of her pink mouth. I had no idea what I was seeing in those big blue-greens. I’d thought I had this girl all figured out.
I’d thought wrong. So fucking wrong it made my dick throb.
Apparently I liked being fucking wrong.
“Good, Katie?” Liv asked. “Let’s see some more of that heat.”
Katie smiled over her shoulder, to camera, and said, “Yes, ma’am,” as sweet as could be.
Then she turned to me and whispered in my ear, “Maybe if I channel ‘cock-struck’ it’ll make her happy.”
And as soon as we were filming again, she lifted her hips and shoved her pussy against me like she suddenly couldn’t stand a fucking thing between us… other than my dick, which she’d sat herself directly on. My incredibly hard dick, which she clearly wasn’t expecting.
Her eyes went huge and her mouth popped open, but she didn’t back off.
Which was fine with me.
Then “Dirty Like Me” kicked in and right on cue I opened my mouth… and choked.
Nothing came out.
For the first time in ten fucking years, I forgot the lyrics.
I forgot the lyrics.
Katie Bloom stared at me, her plump pink lips parted in surprise, and I couldn’t fucking help it.
I leaned in and kissed her. Hard.
CHAPTER FIVE
* * *
Katie
His molasses-dark gaze melted over me, his lips parting as he drew a shaky breath. I could feel the tension of his restraint in his hard, muscular body hovering over mine. His skin was getting slippery. A bead of sweat rolled slowly down his temple; I wondered if the camera caught it.
I clung to him, my fingernails digging into his muscled back as his hips pressed me to the bed. He moved against me, thrusting his hard length against the softness of my inner thigh, nothing but the soft cotton of his underwear between us. Then he did it again. Harder. Slower. My breath caught as the tip of his cock brushed my clit through the lace of my panties. Rihanna’s “Rude Boy” started playing.
My eyes opened with a jolt.
Next to me, my dog nuzzled into the crook of my knee.
Fuck me.
I was doing it again. Reliving every steamy, breathless, lip-biting moment of my fake make out with Jesse Mayes at his video shoot, in my dreams.
I let out a hard sigh and rubbed my eyes. At least this time I didn’t come in m
y sleep.
My dog continued to molest my knee with his sloppy tongue to the tune of “Rude Boy.”
“Ugh. Max.” I rolled over, tussling Max’s ears and giving him a gentle shove off the bed.
My best friend’s ringtone stopped abruptly.
I groped around on my bedside table for my glasses, then my phone. Devi had texted me when I missed her call. It said simply, Number One, Baby!
Devi had been tirelessly tracking absolutely everything to do with the “Dirty Like Me” video since its release two weeks ago. If anything even remotely related to my appearance in that video was mentioned in some random, dusty corner of the internet, Devi had a Google Alert for it.
And no, the video wasn’t “Number One.” Not exactly. But…
I opened the text that had come in last night from Maggie, who’d also been keeping me updated, on a more casual but factually accurate basis. Her text included a YouTube link and a more specific report.
Just surpassed November Rain.
My heart did a weird sledgehammer thing, which it’d been doing a lot lately.
I flopped on my back and stared at the big crack in my bedroom ceiling, the one that occasionally leaked and my landlord kept promising to fix. I swore it was kind of wiggling around. The whole room was vibrating, like a tiny freight train was doing circles around my skull, which was pretty much how I always felt after drinking red wine.
It seemed premature, to me, to be celebrating when we weren’t actually “Number One,” but Devi had all the excuse she needed to break out several pitchers of sangria last night.
“Slash,” my drunken best friend kept saying. “You beat Slash.”
She was totally pumped about the fact that, according to Maggie, Guns N’ Roses’ “November Rain” was the most-watched rock video on YouTube, like, ever—until a certain video starring Jesse Mayes and, um, me, came along.
Now, “Dirty Like Me” held that honor.
I texted Devi back. Work now. Talk later.
Her response buzzed before I could put the phone down. Meet you there! You’re a star!!!!!
Rock Star Romance Ultimate Volume 2 Page 32