Page 135 of Dirty Like Dylan

“You looked scared,” I told her, in all seriousness.

She blinked at me. “I guess I was, a little. But, hey, I’ve seen worse.” She rested her chin on my chest as she gazed at me. “You know my old jeans with the Venezuelan flag patch on them? I saw a guy get stabbed in the street, like two feet in front of me.”

“Shit. Someone you knew?”

“No. Just wrong place, wrong time. I held his hand and I got his blood on my jeans. He didn’t die or anything, but it was plenty scary.”

“Shit,” I said again.

She shrugged. “What can I say. I’m a woman of the world, Dylan Cope. I’ve seen much worse than a bunch of drunk rock stars getting into a jealous brawl.”

I knew she was making jokes to deflect from the point. Fact was, she was scared when the shit hit the fan and the fists started flying. She was right in the middle of it, and she could’ve gotten hurt. But I was pretty sure she was more scared about one of us, Con or Ash or me, or maybe even Johnny, getting hurt.

“Seriously,” I told her, “I don’t want you to think I’m that guy. Other than some random drunken bar fights where I jumped in to pull guys apart, I’ve actually never been in a fight. I’ve never hit someone in the face like that.”

“So why did you do it this time?”

“Because I was pissed.” I laid my hand on her cheek. “I saw Johnny grab at you and you pulled away from him, and I just saw red. I swear to you, though, I don’t usually lose my temper like that. I mean, look, Amber… I—”

“True story,” Ash said, walking back in. “You’ve got his Underlayers all tied up in knots, Amber Paige.”

Amber had turned to look at him, and slid off of me a bit. Now, she just stared at me.

And damn, I wanted her alone.

I wasn’t even sure where that conversation was going, but I really wanted to have it.

I glanced at him. “Nachos?”

“Burnt to a crisp.”

He flopped onto the bed next to Amber, and for whatever reason, I wanted out. So I got up and started pulling on my jeans.

“I put them in to crisp up a bit before putting the toppings on,” Ash was saying, “then forgot when Amber got all sexy.” He smacked her bare ass and she grinned. “But we’ve got more.”

I pulled on my shirt, and when I looked at them again, he’d started kissing her. “You get to come, baby?” he asked her.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “You made me come.”

“I meant after that. Dylan take care of you?”

“Um…” She glanced at me. I didn’t make her come, but fuck, when he left, I just wanted to talk to her.

Now I felt like an asshole.

Ash pushed her over onto her back. “Can I get a little help here?” he asked me, his eyes on Amber as he shifted over her and started kissing his way down her body.

And yeah, normally I’d be all over that. I’d already lost track of the times we’d made Amber come together, one of us between her legs, one of us sucking on her tits… My dick throbbed at the thought, but I still didn’t make a move toward the bed.

What the hell is wrong with me?

“I’ll take care of the nachos,” I said. “You guys just…”

I didn’t even bother finishing that sentence. Amber looked at me, but then her eyes rolled closed as Ash went down on her. “Stay…” she breathed, reaching out a limp hand for me.

“I’ll be back,” I said.

I took a lingering look at her lying there, getting off on Ash’s face between her legs.

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