Page 15 of Dirty Like Me
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 assandhe 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 Ishouldknow?”
I stared at her, totally fucking bewildered. Maybe because it’d been so long since I’d had a chick in my lap whowasn’tfull-out, tits-up star-struck. Actually, not sure I’deverhad 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 fuckingstruck, 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?”
