Page 174 of Dirty Like Dylan

“No,” he said, growing serious. “No. Ash doesn’t count. But I’ve had a couple of girlfriends. I’ve never dated anyone exclusively for more than a few months, though, so you’ve got me on the relationship thing. Guess I’m kind of a virgin when it comes to making those work.”

That perked me up, actually. “Well, then… maybe we can be virgins together.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, pulling me toward him, his eyelids instantly lowering. “So let’s go pop our cherries together.”

I grinned and he kissed me. The heat between us ignited so fast, I lost my breath and fell against him, panting, moaning into his mouth.

“Shit,” he said, pulling back. “I almost forgot… You got me all distracted with those cute teeth of yours, smiling at me.”

“Cute teeth?” I panted.

“These little fangs.” He nudged my upper lip up and pressed his thumb to one of my eyeteeth. “Cute as hell.”

“Yeah? You like the fangs?” I smiled, showing them off, as I slid my leg over his lap to straddle him, cozying into his crotch. I wrapped my hands around the back of his neck. “If I was a vampire, would you let me drink your blood so I could stay alive forever?”

“Totally.” He drifted his thumb over my cheek. “As long as I get to look at these freckles for eternity. Kinda lose my mind over these…”

He kissed me again and nibbled on my bottom lip, and I moaned softly, kinda dazed and floored by his words. … for eternity…?

“Jesus.” He pulled back. “You did it again.”

“Did what?”

“Distracted me. I was trying to ask you to come on tour with me.”

“What?” I pulled back to look into his eyes.

“Tour,” he said. “After the album comes out. We’re leaving in January. Bunch of dates in Australia, South America, the US, Europe after that… Whole bunch of places.”

“Um. You want me to go travel the world with you?” My heart was suddenly pumping a billion beats per minute.

“Yeah. Is that cool?”

Holy shit.

“Have you met me? I fucking love traveling. But, wait… Do I have to ride in a car behind the bus with the other bitches? Because that’s not happening.”

He laughed. “What?”

“I saw Rock Star, with Marky Mark. Jennifer Aniston had to ride in a car behind the tour bus with the other girlfriends and wives, while the guys in the band took groupies on the tour bus with them.”

“Not happening,” he said, smoothing his thumb over my bottom lip. “No fucking way. You get to eject any idiot who tries to take your place at my side. Or I’ll get Jude to do it.”

I shook my head, trying to consider all the angles of what he was offering. “I dunno, though.” I wrapped my arms loosely around his neck, playing with his hair. “Sounds kinda gross, Dylan. I don’t want to be your convenience pussy, warming your bed while you’re working on the road and too busy to see me except to fuck. We’ll hate each other by mid-tour and break up and I’ll leave you in some random country and we’ll never see each other again.”

“That sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.” He gripped my hips and pulled me closer against him. Probably trying to distract me with his massive hard-on, which was now jammed against my pussy.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He smirked.

“Hear me out, though,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about this, and I think what it comes down to is ownership.”

“Ownership?”

---