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Touch Me

Olivia Cunning


  head. “Here, hold on to this.”

  Owen wrapped Caitlyn’s arms around his waist and placed her hands on his ass.

  “Oh yes,” she said, giving Owen’s firm ass cheeks a squeeze. “This is much more fun to hold on to than Gabe’s head.”

  When it was time for Owen to work with his instrument, Caitlyn reluctantly released her hold on his firm backside. She noticed the bulge in his jeans before he shifted his bass guitar in front of it. So she wasn’t the only one in need of a quickie. A long, drawn-out lovemaking session would work too. She was game for anything with Owen.

  She did her best to stay out of the crew’s way as she watched.

  She was surprised by how well Owen played. For a moment, she thought he was showing off his skill for her benefit, and then it dawned on her that he was playing some of the band’s songs.

  When the low tones of his riff throbbed through her body, she was suddenly completely astounded by his musical skill. To her way of thinking, music was an auditory expression of mathematics, mostly fractions—flats and sharps changing tones by halves, the lengths of notes in quarters and thirds. She’d always admired anyone who could play piano, and she was starting to feel the same admiration for a certain bass player. A man who had that much skill in music was a genius in her book.

  There was also something to be said about the way Owen’s fingers moved on the strings, about knowing that’s what caused those thick calluses to form on his fingertips. About remembering what they felt like against her swollen, achy clit.

  She was suddenly on fire for the man—no touching required.

  Caitlyn’s original intention had been to watch the logistics of preparing equipment for a live show, but somehow all the machinery and technology—which usually fascinated her—was far less interesting than the man stroking four thick strings. The technicians were talking to Owen and he was nodding, but she couldn’t hear what was being said over the din of hammers banging against steel pipes. After several minutes, Owen smiled at her and then lifted the strap of his guitar over his head and handed it off to one of the crew. Her heart thudded faster and faster as he approached her. He never took his eyes off her face.

  “Are you finished?” she asked.

  “I haven’t even started,” he said.

  “Oh.” She couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice.

  “But I’m done with sound check.”

  “That was quick.”

  “Technically, they could do the sound check without us, but Shade insists that we all play a part in it. If we sound like shit, it’s not the technicians who get booed off the stage.”

  “I guess that’s true,” she said. “So what do you usually do to waste time before the concert starts?”

  “Depends. Sometimes we hang out on the bus. Other times we hang out in the dressing room. Occasionally there are VIP groups that hang out with us backstage, and I have to pretend I’m charming for several consecutive hours. We might do a promotional signing here or there but no matter what’s on the agenda, there’s usually a sandwich involved. Are you hungry?”

  Her stomach rumbled at the thought of food. She’d enjoyed a large breakfast but had turned down a tour bus lunch consisting of beef jerky and Spanish peanuts. “Yeah, I could use a sandwich.”

  “I think I need to earn mine first.”

  She was in perfect agreement.

  “Are we going back to the bus? I need to change clothes before the concert.”

  “You’re changing again?”

  “Aren’t you going to change for your performance?”

  Owen looked down at his baggie, distressed jeans and smoothed both hands over the belly of his navy-blue T-shirt. “Nope. This will work fine.”

  She was surprised he didn’t dress better onstage. He was wearing what most guys would wear to spend the day on the couch watching football and eating nachos. She wasn’t sure what to expect from the show. Apparently the band didn’t wear suits when they performed. Would the flirty red cocktail dress she’d borrowed from Jenna be appropriate attire?

  “What should I wear, Owen? I’ve never been to a rock concert, remember? I don’t want to make an ass out of myself.”

  “I have to admit I’m interested to know what you were planning on wearing.”

  “Why? So you can make fun of me?”

  “I would never make fun of you.”

  She offered him a reproachful look.

  “Not in a hurtful manner,” he added. “So why don’t you change into what you’d planned to wear and if I think it’ll make an ass out of you, I’ll let you know.”

  “It’s not a tweed jacket,” she said.

  She laughed at the disappointed look on his face.

  “Well, I still want to see it.”

  “Fine.” She didn’t much care if her wardrobe wasn’t metal-concert appropriate. It wasn’t like she was going to see any of these people in her real life. Though since they were in her home town, it was possible that someone would recognize her wearing a cocktail dress at a rock show.

  They started toward the bus. Out of the corner of her eye, Caitlyn kept catching the profile of the same surly-looking stranger. She didn’t think it was a coincidence.

  “Owen,” she whispered. “I think that shady-looking character is following us.”

  Owen glanced over his shoulder and laughed. “Hey, shady-looking character. Follow us out of her peripheral view. You’re freaking her out.”

  “Will do,” the man said and slowed his pursuit to allow them to walk farther ahead.

  Caitlyn lifted a questioning eyebrow at Owen.

  “That’s Frank, one of our security team. He’s making sure you don’t attack me.”

  “You need security?”

  “Obviously.”

  “You didn’t have security following you around last night,” she pointed out.

  “That’s because the chances I’ll be recognized when I’m not at a venue are relatively small. No one is looking to see me. But here, if I’m recognized, almost everyone knows who I am and then it becomes a mob situation. Ask Adam about that. He about started a riot a couple nights ago because he was stupid enough to roll down the limousine window in front of the stadium.”

  “It’s sort of weird to think of you as famous,” she said. “Do people really try to attack you?”

  “Just women trying to get in my pants,” he said.

  “Ha ha,” she said before realizing he probably wasn’t joking.

  When they reached the bus, Frank didn’t follow them inside. There was another guy standing just outside the bus door, who Caitlyn assumed was another member of the security team. She supposed his job was to keep groupies from stowing away on the bus when no one was paying attention.

  Owen had someone retrieve her overnight bag from beneath the bus and when she had it clutched against her chest, she looked at Owen expectantly.

  “You can change in the bathroom,” he said. “I’d join you but unless I stand in the shower stall, there isn’t room for two.”

  “I can dress myself.”

  “That’s fine. As long as you allow me to undress you.”

  She hurried to the bathroom to change while Owen fiddled with his smartphone and checked his messages.

  He was right about the bathroom being too small for two. She had to stand with one foot in the shower stall to get dressed. The dress was knee-length, with a flirty wide skirt and a halter top that she realized was much too revealing to wear in public. Cleavage wasn’t the right word for what was showing. She half expected her belly button to be visible.

  “Dear lord, Jenna, why do you even own a dress like this?” she asked the mirror. Noting that her bra was showing, she took it off and did her best to keep her boobs in her top while she slipped into the matching heels. The dress wasn’t appropriate for a rock concert or anything but the privacy of her own bedroom. Sure, a movie star might get away with wearing something like this, but she was no movie star. She laughed at her reflecti
on.

  “What were you thinking, Caitlyn Marie Mattock?” Her eyes widened when she heard herself use her married name. She realized that unlike the past few months—when it seemed her every thought had been focused on how she’d been jilted—she hadn’t thought of Charles all day. “Caitlyn Marie Hanson,” she corrected. She’d taken back her maiden name in the divorce. It was time to claim it as her own again.

  She stepped out of the bathroom, smoothing her hair with her palms and trying not to feel overly self-conscious about how much skin was showing. The back of the dress was cut so low, she wouldn’t be surprised if she had plumber’s crack going on back there. And to say the neckline plunged was an understatement.

  Owen glanced up from his phone and froze with his finger hovering over the screen. His jaw dropped and eyes bulged. His phone hit the floor and he didn’t even bother to pick it up before striding toward her.

  “Good God, woman, you are not wearing that.”

  “Yeah, I realized how ridiculous I look the second I put it on.”

  He was staring at the inner and under curves of her breasts that were far too visible for her peace of mind. If she wasn’t already used to him seeing her naked, she would have covered herself with her hands.

  “Fuck hot,” he said, and then he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “You look fuck hot, Caitlyn. Too fuck hot.”

  “Fuck hot?”

  “That’s way hotter than regular hot,” he said. “On the hotness scale there’s hot, really hot, and then fuck hot. I think we need to invent a new hot just for you.”

  She shook her head at his silliness, but she couldn’t help it—she liked his over-the-top compliments. He made her feel good about herself. She’d always been confident about her intelligence and her creativity and her ability to lead a team, but physically? She was the woman who’d tripped over her own feet at an indoor football game and ended up with her face buried in the crotch of the team mascot. She wasn’t used to being admired for her physical attributes.

  Owen’s finger traced a path along the inner curve of her breast. “Where did you get this dress?”

  “I borrowed it from Jenna.”

  “I’ll thank her next time I see her.”

  “You plan to see her again?” Caitlyn squeaked. Jenna had dated a lot of men in her day, but she was happily married now. Or did her friend have something she needed to talk to her about?

  “She’s a big part of your life, isn’t she?”

  “I wish she was more a part of my life,” Caitlyn admitted.

  “And I want to be a big part of your life.”

  “You do?”

  He traced the inner curve of her other breast, and she shivered with delight. “Yes.”

  “Oh.” She wasn’t sure how to respond. Wasn’t this just a long version of a one-night stand? But it didn’t have to be. “Okay,” she said. “I guess we can go out again.”

  He chuckled. “You guess?”

  His hand slid into the front of her dress, and he palmed her breast.

  “I’m not rejecting you, Owen,” she said.

  “Good, because I don’t handle rejection well.”

  “Kellen sort of told me that in the limo outside the club.”

  “He’s been quiet all day; I’m not sure what’s wrong with him. He really shouldn’t go to Galveston tonight. Surrounding himself with happy memories does not make him happy with the present.”

  “What’s in Galveston?”

  “The house he bought her after she died.”

  “Huh?”

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “You can talk to me about it. I know you’re concerned for him.”

  “I’m more concerned that someone other than me will see you in this dress and try to do this.”

  His thumb rubbed her nipple, and she moaned in pleasure. This dress had one thing going for it. It made getting to second base a breeze.

  “I think Kellen’s trying to let her go,” she said, struggling to follow the thread of their conversation while her body awakened beneath his expert touch.

  Owen shook his head. “I think seeing me and you together is really bothering him.”

  “Do you think he wants to hook up with you?”

  His eyes widened, and he shook his head. “No. I think seeing me with a woman makes him miss her. You’re still caught up on that thing that happened back at the club?”

  “You called his name when I was screwing you, Owen. And he touched you. I saw him. And I think he rather enjoyed touching you. I know you enjoyed it. I didn’t know your O-face at the time, but I know it now, and you were about to come in his hand.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I say so. Drop it, okay?” he said.

  “I won’t mention it again.” She meant it.

  “Now that you’ve dropped that, you need to drop this dress. There is no way I’ll be able to perform with you standing in my corner of the stage looking this fuck hot. And if another man sees you in this, I’ll be tempted to kick his ass.”

  She couldn’t picture Owen getting into a fight. Like Kellen had said, Owen saw the good in people. In all people.

  “Well I wouldn’t want you to hurt your knuckles on some guy’s face. I guess I’ll go change.”

  She took a step back, but he grabbed her and pulled her against him, capturing her in a tight embrace. “I think you should wear it just a little while longer. There’s no one here but you and me.”

  “And me,” Kellen said from the living area.

  Owen stiffened. He was probably wondering the same thing Caitlyn was wondering: how long had Kellen been there and had he overheard their conversation about him?

  Owen immediately relaxed and stepped away from Caitlyn. “You’re the only dude allowed to see her dressed like this. Doesn’t she look fuck hot?”

  “Fuck hot,” Kellen agreed with a half-smile.

  “Couldn’t you just bend her over that table and fuck her for hours?” Owen said.

  Caitlyn slapped at him for making her blush again.

  “If you’d like to tie her up sometime, I could give you a hand,” Kellen offered.

  Owen’s breath caught in his throat. “You mean it?”

  Kellen nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I need this last night to let her consume me. Seeing you with Caitlyn today made me realize that no one will ever take Sara’s place, but maybe no one is supposed to. Maybe someone could find a different spot to fill inside me. I seem to be full of holes.”

  Caitlyn nearly melted at his admission. The man had a truly romantic soul. She wondered if he wrote lyrics. He seemed the poetic type.

  “I have more holes than you do,” Owen said, fingering the piercing in his brow and both ears. He didn’t have to remind anyone about that extra hole down below.

  Caitlyn chuckled. Trust Owen to take everything at face value.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Kellen said. “I meant—”

  “I know what you meant,” Owen said. “You’re making me look shallow in front of my chick, coming in here all deep and philosophical while I spout off incoherently about how hot she looks in a dress.”

  “I need that,” Caitlyn admitted. “That fills a hole in me.”

  “I’d like to fill a hole in you right about now,” Owen said.

  Kellen chuckled and headed for the exit. “I’ll leave you two alone,” he said. “So Owen can fill some holes.”

  “Could you do me a favor?” Owen asked him.

  “Name it.”

  “Go buy Caitlyn a Sole Regret T-shirt. I can’t have her looking fuck hot in front of the crew.”

  Kellen appeared to be less than thrilled to be used as an