Page 93 of Dirty Like Me
“That’s awesome, Katie.”
I watched as Jesse smiled at whatever the girls said back to him. Then he looked over at me and smiled bigger.
“But you know, no matter how real this is or isn’t, or how long it lasts, there’s only one thing that really matters,” my best friend said, from so far away. “Is he good to you?”
CHAPTER 26
JESSE
“The damage you did to my tongue will have me singing with a lisp,” I informed Katie as I climbed into the driver’s seat of the tour bus. I checked my swollen tongue in the mirror, and the angry red damage where the tooth had cut through.
“I didn’t bite your tongue,” she said, settling back in the passenger seat. “Youbit your tongue.”
True.
“Which was your fault,” I said.
Also true.
We were on our way to Austin when I decided to commandeer the wheel of the bus. A few days back we’d passed that point, the one that came on every tour, when I got sick as fuck of life on the bus and started pacing, climbing the walls, and generally driving everyone else nuts. Travel time between tour stops didn’t justify flying, so I had no choice but to endure the road. I’d taken over driving to change things up.
When we’d stopped for gas, Kenny got out to fuel up, Mick and Raf went for beer, Jude disappeared wherever, and I pulled Katie into my lap on the co-pilot seat. I then proceeded to dry-hump her like a horny mutt. I’d been trying to get up her skirt all morning, also to stave off my road boredom. I started to peel her tank top off, she protested something about windows, and I shoved my tongue down her throat to shut her up. She pulled my shirt off, distracted me by scraping her fingernails over my nipples, then wrenched her mouth free, licked my ear and whispered something that sounded distinctly likeI should fuck you up the ass.
Which made me bite my tongue so hard it bled.
Unfortunately the guys had started piling back on the bus before I could make her pay for the bloody tongue, or explain that comment. My tongue was still throbbing, the coppery taste of blood still in my mouth.
“Practice,” she said. “Sing something and I’ll tell you if you lisp.”
I started singing the chorus toDream Weaver, of all things. And I did lisp a little on thevandthsounds. It also hurt to try not to. Katie roared with laughter. Then I said, “Ow,” and she shut her mouth.
“What’s wrong?” Mick appeared, cracked open a cold beer, handed it to Katie and took away her empty; she’d already pounded one back while we’d waited for Jude and Kenny to return.
“Thanks!” She took a swig. “I made Jesse bleed,” she said with fake-ass sympathy.
“Keep it up,” Mick said, and disappeared into the back.
“Don’t encourage her,” I growled after him.
“Aw. Poor baby,” Katie said sweetly, her big blue-greens gleaming with joy.
“You’re lucky there’s no show tonight.”
“I’ve never seen you pout before,” she said, still wide-eyed with glee. “It’s adorable.”
“Not pouting,” I grumbled. “Bruising.”
She laughed again as I steered the bus out onto the highway, humming the chorus toDream Weaver.
“Maybe you could just hum the whole show tomorrow,” she suggested brightly.
“If you’re gonna pull co-pilot, make yourself useful,” I ordered.
“And how would I do that?” She glanced over her shoulder into the lounge, then leaned in and whispered, “I am not giving you a roadie.”
“Why the fuck not?” I started to make a suggestive gesture with my tongue, but stopped when I tasted fresh blood. “Ow. Fuck.” I shot her a look, daring her to laugh at my injury again.
She smiled prettily and drank her beer. “Don’t worry, I’ll be more entertaining when I’m inebriated. Help you pass the time. I’m going full-bore co-pilot on this.”
