Page 41 of Dirty Dylan: Dirty Dusters

She lets out a long sigh, then pauses before she carries on. “Listen, Dyl, I’m not vain, but I’m not blind either. But being easy on the eye isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. My school days weren’t the best days of my life because of how I looked. No one saw what was underneath, as no one bothered to search below the shiny surface. I wish I had a dime for every girl who said they envied me. The truth is, if they’d known the reality of what it was like being me, maybe they wouldn’t have been quite so keen to trade places.”

Her mood has changed. I’m seeing glimpses now of the other Jessie. The one she wears when she lets her guard down. I’m glad she feels comfortable enough to share her with me again.

I’m surprised by her admission though. I would have thought she’d have been popular because of her looks. Turns out, she wasn’t. It seems being close to physically perfect doesn’t make you happy.

“It’s the thing I hate most.” She speaks quietly.

I look at her and wait for her to continue.

“Being judged for the way I look or for my background.”

I think back on her reaction to when I commented on her music choices, cursing inwardly when I realize I’m no better than most she’s encountered in her life.

“I judged you, didn’t I?” The fingers stroking my back stop then slowly restart.

“You did, but then I judged you too, I’m ashamed to say. When you said you were a reader, I was…taken aback.”

I think back to that conversation. I hadn’t picked up on the fact she’d judged me. But then, how many times have we both been silently judged by others?

Too many to count.

“And have you always been so quiet and reserved?”

I smile as my thoughts drift to my brother. “I have, but I have an excuse. I grew up with Paddy. Us two have always been thick as thieves. There was no way I could ever compete with him, so I stopped trying. Well, not that I tried very hard in the first place as I never wanted to be center of attention.”

She laughs. She knows what I’m saying. I love my baby brother, but God help anyone who drags the focus and conversation away from him.

Nuzzling my face back into her neck, we lie there in comfortable silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. All our lives others have made assumptions about us because of how we act or how we look. I think we’ve both come to realize that with each other, we can just be ourselves, warts and all.

No pretense. No hiding. Just Dylan. Just Jessie.

She clenches that pussy of hers around me once more, and my dick twitches into life, more than ready for round two.

I lift my head and raise a questioning eyebrow. I know exactly what she’s going to ask.

“Will you fuck me, Dylan O’Connell?”

“Gladly, Jessie O’Brien.” I smile against her lips as my mouth devours hers once more.

CHAPTERNINETEEN

JAINE

Jaine’s House, Rising, California

“So, you’re fucking him.”

It’s a statement more than a question. Reading between the lines, it’s obvious. She’s been AWOL for days. No doubt all of them spent in bed with Dylan. Surprisingly, he’s been as responsive as always with his messages, which is strange considering he must surely be preoccupied with other things.

My heart sinks in my chest when I realize I’ll have no choice but to lessen my reliance on him. That Jessie’s growing needs and demands for his time and attention will, quite rightly, now take precedence over my own. I can’t be selfish. I’ve used him as my crutch for long enough.

“I’m saying nothing, your honor.”

“You don’t have to. It’s obvious given you’ve been pretty much uncontactable.”

“Yes. Sorry about that.”

She sounds guilty. She shouldn’t.

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