Olivia Cunning - Touch Me

Kelly chuckled and lifted his knuckles to share a bro-tap before walking away. Owen watched him until he disappeared through an open door and then turned to Caitlyn, who was scrutinizing him.

“You need to have a long talk with him,” she said. “Sort through your feelings.”

Owen rolled his eyes. You call out a guy’s name once while enjoying an explosive orgasm as a woman fucks you in the ass, and she just won’t let it rest.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go get naked on the bus.”

He removed his bass, handed it off to a technician, and wrapped an arm around Caitlyn’s shoulders. She turned her face toward his chest and inhaled deeply.

“Mmm, you smell so good.”

As sweaty as he was, he surely smelled like a dirty jockstrap, but he never turned down a compliment.

“And you look good enough to eat,” he said into her ear. “One guess what I’m thinking about eating right now.”

“Pastrami on rye?” she asked, her eyes sparking with mischief as she gazed up at him.

“I’m sure before the night is over I’ll be craving pastrami, but right now I want pie.”

“Cream pie?”

“If it’s not creamy yet, it will be when I get my mouth on it.”

She sucked in a scandalized breath and then laughed. “Why are you the guy my mother always warned me about? She should have shoved me in your direction. Who knew bad boys were so much fun?”

“I told you I’ll be bad if it turns you on.”

“Everything you do turns me on. And seeing you on stage…” She took a deep breath and relaxed into a full-body shudder. “I had no idea how incredibly sexy I’d find that.”

“That’s the first thing that attracts most women.”

“I find that very hard to believe, blue eyes.”

He directed her behind the stadium where the buses were parked. One of their security team followed, keeping enough distance from them to not invade their privacy.

“So what are you doing tomorrow?” Owen asked.

“Returning to San Antonio to spend the day with Jenna,” she said. One part of her still felt terrible for running off with Owen. It was supposed to be their BFF week and here she was tagging along after a guy. “I already ditched her once.”

“And what do I have to do to convince you to come with me to Beaumont?”

“Call Jenna and explain why I’m being such a wretched friend.”

“Done. I’ll even take all the blame upon myself.”

“I don’t know if my body can take two consecutive nights with you. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“We don’t have to have sex,” he said. “I just like spending time with you.”

She stopped in midstride and looked up at him, her eyes blinking. “Well, that might be enough for you, but my hormones are raging like a river thanks to you, and you better believe that you’re going to do something about the state you put me in, Mr. Owen Pierced-Cock Mitchell.”

He rubbed her lower back. “Maybe we’ll try it without the piercing this time.”

She winked at him. “Maybe.”

“So will you accompany me to our next gig?”

“Depends,” she said.

“On?”

“If you let me buy you dinner tonight.”

“I think the tour bus is leaving in the next ten minutes.”

“Oh.”

“But you can buy me dinner tomorrow night.”

“And the night after that?”

He grinned. “Probably.”

Owen caught movement out of the corner of his eye a split second before one of their security team tackled someone to the ground right next to them. Caitlyn stumbled sideways as Owen instinctively shoved her behind him. She clung to his waist, her face buried in his back. Expecting to see an army of Samurai, he was surprised to peer down at a completely non-threatening individual.

“Oh God,” the security guard said. “I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t seem to figure out where to put his hands. He brushed off the girl’s pink-and-white-striped T-shirt. Then he lamely patted her head. “I saw you running toward Tags and I just reacted. Are you okay?”

The slender girl ran her hands over her distended abdomen, her golden blond hair obscuring her face. “I think so,” she said breathlessly. “Luckily I landed on my butt.”

Owen’s muscles stiffened. Her voice was familiar, and he had a sinking suspicion as to her identity. Please, let me be wrong. This was the last thing he needed when he was trying to convince Caitlyn that he wasn’t a man whore. He reached down to help the young woman to her feet, and she lifted her face. He cringed. There was no mistaking those big blue eyes as she searched his face. Her bottom lip quivered.

Oh no, no, no. No crying.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she said, rubbing her hands over her pregnant belly. “I have something I need to tell you.”

Owen’s chest constricted until he feared he’d suffocate. “Lindsey?” he croaked.

“Oh, you remember my name,” Lindsey said, and she struggled to her feet. “I’m surprised.”

The security guard began brushing off her butt with both hands. She gave him a look of disbelief, which halted the man’s attempts to undo the damage he’d caused. What the fuck was he thinking? Tackling a pregnant woman to the ground? What an incompetent asshole.

There were a lot of women Owen had slept with whose names he’d admittedly forgotten, but Lindsey wasn’t one of them. She’d been the last woman he and Kelly had pleasured together. He sometimes thought she’d somehow wrecked Kelly. It was either something Lindsey had done or that wrist cuff Owen had given him for Christmas. That’s when Kelly had started pushing Owen away, so no, Owen wasn’t likely to forget her, even if it had been six months since he’d last seen her.

“How do you know her?” Caitlyn asked, her arms crossed over her chest.

Uh…

Now would be a good time for a meteor to strike him dead.

“Um, well, there was snow,” he said, as if that explained anything.

Lindsey looked at Caitlyn and scowled. “Excuse me, lady. I’m trying to tell Owen that I’m pregnant with his child. You need to go away. This is a private matter.”

“What?” Caitlyn spat.

“What?” Owen bellowed.

“What?” the security guard sputtered.

An unseen man in the parking lot yelled, “What!” and his companions laughed at his cleverness.

“I’m pregnant,” Lindsey said.

“I can see that,” Owen said, his gaze glued to her abdomen. Dear God, there was no denying she was pregnant. “What the fuck does that have to do with me?”

“Is this your wife, Owen?” Caitlyn asked as she took several steps backward, shaking her head and pushing her hands uselessly out in front of her.

“No, she’s not my wife.”

“Yet,” Lindsey said.

“She’s not even my girlfriend,” Owen said.

“I see.” Caitlyn said with a nod. “She’s just a toy that you used to get your rocks off. Kind of like me.”

Owen shook his head. “No. It was different with you. I like you.”

“You don’t like me ?” Lindsey wailed. Then she broke into gut-wrenching sobs.

Owen squeezed his eyes shut. He’d made a pregnant woman cry. A pregnant woman who might or might not be carrying his child. He needed to sit down. Or lie down. Or drown himself in a toilet.

“I’m out of here,” Caitlyn said.

He watched her march up the bus steps and then emerge thirty seconds later with her purse and overnight bag. It was as if his feet had taken root and his mouth had been sewn shut. When Caitlyn brushed past him, he caught her arm.

“Don’t go,” he said. His biggest fear slammed him in the chest. Not fatherhood, though he hadn’t quite processed that yet, but rejection. She was flat out rejecting him, and he couldn’t fucking stand it.