Page 46 of Dirty Like Dylan

I definitely didn’t want Amber getting comfortable here, the way I’d gotten comfortable at Dylan’s.

Definitely didn’t want her getting comfortable there.

I stalked through the house, headed for my bedroom, and I could smell the faint smell of her. That hippie-dippy flower-child smell. Like incense and flowers and candy, and natural fucking essence of sweet pussy. Amber’s presence annoyed the fucking shit out of me, and yes, it was because I felt threatened.

Because I knew how much Dylan liked the girl.

He liked her a fucking lot.

Enough that he wanted her to be the filling in our next sex sandwich. Enough that he wouldn’t go hook up tonight with some random because of it.

Enough that there was a very real fear building inside of me, fucking itching at the back of my mind, that I could lose him to her.

And any girl who’d ever made me feel like that, I’d gotten rid of—fast.

But I just couldn’t seem to flush this one out.

Dylan could say he didn’t feel like going out tonight because he was spent and tired all he wanted. But that was all bullshit. He just didn’t want to admit to me that he was pussying out; waiting on Amber to fall into our shared bed.

And I knew why he was waiting.

Because Amber Malone was so clearly different from the other chicks we usually took to bed; the kind you fucked and forgot about. There was something about this girl, you got too close to it, it stayed with you. And good luck getting it out of your system after that.

Kinda like herpes.

I stopped in my tracks when I heard her. I heard her voice, soft and breathy. Breathing too hard, kinda whimpering in that way a woman only did when she was getting off.

She was fucking getting herself off in my house.

I crept forward, suddenly hyper-tuned to the fact that the floorboards in this place creaked like fuck. She didn’t seem to hear me, though. As I reached the guest room door, I could still hear her, fucking loud.

Clearly, she didn’t expect me to come back tonight, because she was masturbating like a horny fiend.

And she hadn’t shut the door.

It was standing about half a foot open, and obviously, I looked.

I could see her there, flung on the bed in the faint moonlight coming through the window. Thank God for a full moon. But even then, I couldn’t see much. Nipples. I was pretty sure I saw nipples poking into the air as she arched her back. I definitely saw naked flesh and a hand between her legs. The other one was fisting the sheet. Her head was tossed back; I could make out her open mouth, some hair strewn on her pillow, but that was about it.

I just stood here, staring.

And I was getting hard, my dick fucking throbbing as I watched her.

Then I heard her come. Those breathy, kinda half-choked-off screams… and my hand was sliding down the front of my pants. I was wearing sweats from my workout, and I had a handful of hard cock in seconds.

I backed off as she panted, coming down. Made myself scarce before she could gather her wits and saw me or heard me.

I went into my room and shut the door, quietly. Went straight into the bathroom and stood over the sink, shoving my sweats down. I leaned one forearm on the mirror in the dark, holding myself up as I jacked off. It was fast and fucking blinding-hot… Thinking about those sounds she made. Thinking about her coming.

Wondering what she was thinking about.

Dylan?

But it was all mixed up with that kiss this morning… With images of Dylan on his back deck. And when I blew… they were both in my head.

Amber, with her pouty lips and the perky mouthful of her tits, her soft cries as she came…

And Dylan, with the red-gold scruff on his jaw and his cock all out, standing naked in the sun.