“I don’t really want you to make me a sandwich, Caitlyn.”
She grinned. “I know that. I can tell when you’re teasing.”
“And you were teasing me back?”
She nodded. Owen drew her into his arms and held her close. She smiled against his shoulder.
“Can’t seem to keep my hands off you,” he said.
“I don’t mind,” she assured him.
“Well, here, no, but in a restaurant? I might embarrass you.”
“We could get room service in a hotel,” she said. “Then you can put your hands anywhere you like.”
“I sort of want everyone to see that you’re with me,” he said.
She crinkled her eyebrows. “Why?”
“Because you’re a smokin’ hot babe and I get off on the ego trip.”
She stepped back, one step and then two. What? He’d taken his constant stream of compliments one step too far. No man said things like that unless… Caitlyn scowled and leveled him with her best glare of doom. “Okay, how much did Jenna pay you to make me feel like a million bucks?”
“Pay me?”
“You’re a male escort, aren’t you?” No wonder he was so good in bed. Women paid him to be good in bed. She slapped him in the chest with both hands, pretending not to notice his look of astonishment. “I should have realized it sooner. You’re really smooth, Owen Mitchell, if that’s even your real name.”
She expected him to either admit he was paid to entertain women or indignantly deny it. She never expected him to cover his initial astonishment, real or put-on, with a hearty laugh.
“Do you think I could actually make money doing this?” he asked, pausing to catch his breath. “You know, in case the rock star thing doesn’t work out for me.”
“What?” Caitlyn stared up at him with her mouth agape. “You’re not a rock star. You liar. Everything you’ve said to me has been a lie, hasn’t it?”
The teasing light died from his eyes. “Caitlyn, I’ll allow you to insinuate that I’m a male prostitute. I’m even okay with you struggling to believe I’m part of a famous rock band, but you don’t get to blatantly call me a liar. I’m not a liar. I never lie. I might tease and exaggerate a bit, but I don’t lie.”
She wasn’t sure if he was truly angry, but his body was tense and his expression had gone hard.
“You haven’t been lying to me?”
He shook his head, and she concluded he was the best con man on the planet, an award-winning actor (both distinct possibilities), or he was telling the truth. She felt a mix of relief and concern. Relieved that he was legitimately attracted to her and her friends didn’t have to pay a hot guy to sleep with her. Concerned that she liked that knowledge more than she should. She wasn’t even over Charles yet, was she? This was just a revenge fuck or something, wasn’t it?
“Wait,” she said, “So you’re really a rock star?” She giggled as soon as the words escaped her lips, because seriously, who claims such things and expects people to believe it without some proof? “A rock star?”
“Yep. We were the headlining band in the concert at the AT&T Center tonight.”
“Oh yeah?” That was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard and maybe he didn’t like being called a liar, but she was about to call him one again. “What instrument do you play?”
“What?” he said with a crooked grin. “You don’t think I’m lead singer material?”
He wasn’t lying? He really was a rock star? She took another look at him, unable to believe someone this attractive and apparently famous would want anything to do with her. He was definitely dynamic enough to be a lead singer. “Do you sing?”
“A little,” he said, “but mostly I play bass guitar.”
“What’s the name of your band?” She realized that he was sharing personal information. This was a good sign, wasn’t it? She had to keep him talking, because if he was her revenge fuck, she wanted to continue to seek her revenge for a lot longer.
A loud thumping on the wall broke the spell Owen had over Caitlyn. How did he do that, make her feel as if they were the only two people on earth?
“I’ll tell you all about it over a sandwich,” he said. “Do you have clothes in the outer dressing room?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I don’t think what’s left of that negligée legally counts as clothing.”
He cringed at the discarded pile of torn lace on the floor. “Sorry about that. I don’t usually get so worked up that I rip off a woman’s clothes.”
She smiled. “I liked it. It made me feel irresistible.”
“You are irresistible.”
She was starting to believe him. Starting to remember that she was sexy and desirable and beautiful, even if her husband hadn’t been smart enough to see it. “You’d make a fortune,” she said with a smile.
“Huh?”
“As a male escort. I’d definitely pay for this feeling.”
He snorted. “You don’t have to. But it’s good to know I have something to fall back on, you know, if I get myself kicked out of the band or something.”
He stepped away and retrieved his black dress shirt from the floor. He helped her shrug into it and slowly buttoned it from its hem—which hit her midthigh—to the very top button just under her chin.
“That should keep the hawks at bay,” he said and tapped her nose with his index finger.
“The hawks?”
“Men circling to make their kill now that I’ve chased away those man-hater vibes you were giving off.”
“I still hate men,” she said. “Well, one man. But not you. I like you.”
“You’re making this way too easy for me,” Owen said.
She tilted her head at him coyly. “Should I be playing hard to get? A little late for that, don’t you think?”
He shook his head. “I hate players probably as much as you hate your ex-husband.”
She lifted an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you a player?”
He scowled. “Not intentionally. I’m looking for something and just don’t know exactly what it is yet.”
“Do you honestly think you’re going to find what you’re looking for in a sex club?”
“Maybe I have.” He winked at her. “You’re going to call me, right?”
“Depends,” she said.
“On what?”
“Will you answer?”
He smiled. “Of course.”
“Then I’ll call you.” Caitlyn found her shoes and put them on. He watched her with his devilish little grin firmly in place and only then reached for his own clothes.
“Then I’ll give you my number,” he said.
She watched him slip into his underwear and slacks. As he fastened his leather belt, naughty ideas began to filter through her thoughts. Ideas that involved belts. Would he let her try all those fantasies that she didn’t want to admit she had? And did he really want her to call him or was he just getting her hopes up? She wasn’t sure why she didn’t trust him—he hadn’t done anything to break her trust. In fact, he’d been absolutely wonderful. Too good to be true. She kept waiting for him to treat her badly, as if she deserved such treatment.
Damn, Charles sure had done a number on her. Maybe she should have given her heart time to mend before getting in this revenge fuck. What if this turned out to be something she wasn’t ready for? She wasn’t looking for a relationship, but she’d be an idiot not to see how far things could progress with Owen. He wasn’t the kind of guy who came along every day.
“So you never answered me: what’s the name of your band?” she asked as he settled a hand on her lower back and directed her out the door.
Heads turned as they passed through the main lounge. She was sure they were all looking at Owen. He had a gorgeous body and he happened to be shirtless.
“Sole Regret,” he said close to her ear, as if it were a secret.
She caught the scent of his body and the spicy, slightly sweet fragrance of his cologne. When he leaned away again, she
inhaled that same delectable scent from the fabric of his shirt at her shoulder. She wouldn’t mind wearing his shirt for the rest of the night. Unfortunately, they had paused just outside the changing rooms and she was going to have to find her own clothes and relinquish the garment to him. There were, however, two problems with that. One: she would no longer be surrounded by his intoxicating scent. Two: the clothes she wore to the club were likely to send him packing. She didn’t exactly have the sexiest wardrobe.
“I think I’ve heard of them,” she said. She had never heard of a band called Sole Regret and figured he’d been playing up the star part of rock star.
He chuckled. “No you haven’t. I can tell. If you had, you’d be impressed.”
“I’m sorry, I was trying to be kind. What kind of music do you play?”
“Metal.”
She winced. “I don’t listen to that stuff.”
“That’s okay. So what do you do for a living?”
And now he was about to lose all interest in her. She decided to play down her geek-i-tude. If her wardrobe didn’t send him fleeing for a sexier woman, her career most certainly would.
“I… uh… own a business.”
“What kind of business?”
When she hesitated and tried to think of way to make herself sound less geeky, he grinned.
“I know,” he said. “You’re a madam for high-class prostitutes. It would explain why you’re so good in bed.”
She was good in bed? News to her. Caitlyn was most remembered for her complete lack of athletic prowess. Any activity that required her to move her body in a coordinated fashion ended in disaster. But perhaps she’d finally discovered her sport.
“A madam? Now that would be an interesting career,” she said. “Especially if you were one of my wares.”
“You’re done with me already? Going to sell me off to the highest bidder, are you?”
“No,” Caitlyn said. “Hopefully, I’m just getting started with you. I think we have a lot of pleasurable moments in our future.”
He avoided her interested gaze, and her heart plummeted. She hoped he knew that she was teasing about the male prostitute thing. Had she insulted him? It was a pretty insulting topic to joke about. She opened her mouth to apologize, but he patted her on the butt and nudged her toward the dressing rooms.
“You go get dressed. I’m going to find Kelly and let him know we’re leaving. Would you be overly upset if he caught a ride back to the hotel with us?”
“Of course not,” she said, but her heart gave an unpleasant pang. This was it. The thing that made him too good to be true. Kellen was her biggest competition for Owen’s affection, and Owen didn’t even realize it. “Should I wait for you outside?” she asked.
“Just wait here. I wouldn’t want someone to pick you up off the street.”
As if.
“Just so you know, I only have sex in sex clubs, so once we leave here, I won’t want to have sex with you again tonight. I didn’t want you to think it was anything personal if it came up.”
Caitlyn blinked at him, her heart twanging with a strange ache. So she was good enough to screw in a sex club, but not after a sandwich? Of course she’d think that was personal. Fine. Even if he didn’t want to screw her again, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t only interested in him for one thing. At least he’d been honest with her. It was something her husband had never been.
“I understand,” she said. “I still want to spend time with you.” Did that make her a desperate loser?
He smiled awfully bright for a man who didn’t want to have sex with her. “You just made the honor roll, babe.”
She had no idea what he meant by that, but apparently she’d said something right.
Chapter Five
Owen found Kelly sitting with a woman in a booth near the back of the club. So he might not want a ride back after all. Maybe he’d found someone to get busy with. Or maybe he was hoping that Owen would rescue him. It was difficult to read Kelly’s face.
Owen paused near the corner of the table and caught a snippet of Kelly and the woman’s conversation before either of them noticed him.
“Come on, baby,” the woman purred, “you’re hard as a rock. Let’s go find a room and—”
“Of course I’m hard as a rock,” Kelly said testily. “You keep shoving your hand down my pants.”
Okay, it was rescue that Kelly needed.
Owen cleared his throat and grinned at his friend who, yeah, looked relieved to see him.
“Are you finally finished?” Kelly asked.
“Not really.”
“Then what—”
“I’m taking Caitlyn out. She doesn’t belong here. Or maybe I don’t feel right with her here.”
He wasn’t sure what he meant exactly. There was just something about her that deserved better than this. Better than him. And for fuck’s sake, she didn’t seem to see it at all. He wanted to show her, but not here. Here was seedy, and being in this place made him want to take a shower. He’d never felt that way about one of Tony’s clubs, but perhaps the entrepreneurial genius had just missed the mark with this one. Or maybe something in Owen’s mindset had shifted and he was ready for more than a string of one-night stands. He honestly didn’t know. But he meant to find out. Her reaction to his claim that he wouldn’t want to have sex outside of the club had given him hope. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was hoping for. More. But more what?
Kelly’s eyes widened. “Wait! You’re taking her home with you?”
It went against their rules and promises to each other, but Caitlyn was special. Kelly would recognize that soon enough.
“I don’t know if it’ll go that far, but maybe. We’re going to grab a bite to eat and see if it goes anywhere from there. Are you ready to go?”
Kelly tugged his companion’s hand out of his pants again. “I’m ready.”
“Can I come with you?” the woman asked.
“No,” Kelly said and slipped out of the booth.
Owen couldn’t help but notice that Kelly was indeed hard as a rock. He had no explanation as to why he was rapidly getting that way himself. He’d assumed that after that fantastic pair of orgasms, his lust would be sated for a while.
“You should at least let that chick blow you or something,” Owen said. “You have to be hurting right now.”
Kelly shifted the crotch of his pants. “I’ll take care of it back at the hotel.”
Owen tried to stop memories of Kelly masturbating backstage in the communal shower from entering his thoughts, but it was impossible. They used to compete with each other to see who could get himself off the fastest, though they hadn’t done it for several years. In a weird way, it had further cemented their friendship when Kelly was first trying to get over Sara. He still wasn’t over her and he kept receding deeper into himself. It wasn’t healthy. Owen supposed masturbating with your best friend in the shower was pretty fucked up as well, but at least Kelly hadn’t been alone. He didn’t like Kelly to be alone. Kelly had too much to give to be so bottled up inside.
Owen glanced at the girl who was sulking in the booth. Kelly deserved better than her. He deserved the best. Someone more like Caitlyn. Someone he was unlikely to meet in a seedy sex club. The kind of woman Owen had been purposely avoiding because he knew how easily he fell for them. Owen wasn’t sure if he’d gotten lucky tonight or was setting himself up to get hurt again. He’d been avoiding that at all costs for years now. Maybe he was ready to put his heart on the line, but he’d be an idiot to not see how far this thing with Caitlyn might progress. She didn’t seem like the type who’d rip his heart out just because she could.
Kelly headed for the exit, and Owen fell into step beside him.
“So you like this one, do ya?” Kelly asked.
Owen shrugged. “I guess so.”
“Or are you just trying to get me to help you pleasure her?”
Owen stopped midstep. Because, yeah, if Kelly was up for it, Owen would love his assista
nce.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Kelly said. “You’re so predictable.”
“No, that isn’t it. Or it wasn’t until you mentioned it. Do you want to join us?”
“Not at all.”
Owen didn’t understand the feeling of disappointment in his chest, so he slugged Kelly in the shoulder. “Then don’t bring it up.”
“You’re the one who keeps bringing it up. I think you’re more worried about my love life than your own,” Kelly said.
“That’s because there’s more to worry about when it comes to your love life. Or complete lack of one.”
Kelly chuckled. “You’re as blind as you are predictable, Tags. Do you remember where you put your shoes?”
“In the locker room.”
“And your shirt?”
“Caitlyn’s borrowing it.”
Kelly nodded in the direction of the front door. “I’ll wait for you in the limo.”
“What about your shirt?” Owen glanced pointedly at Kelly’s bare chest.
“I didn’t bring a shirt.”
“You don’t own a shirt.”
“I own a shirt,” Kelly said. “A shirt. One.”
Owen grinned at him. “You’re an odd duck, Cuff.”
“That’s why you get along with me so well.”
A woman Owen didn’t recognize paused beside them, more diamonds on display than a De Beers store.
“I’ll pay you ten thousand dollars if you let me watch you two fuck,” she said.
When Owen and Kelly just gaped at her, she looked from one to the other and said, “Cash.”
“We were just leaving,” Kelly said.
“We’re not a couple,” Owen sputtered. Did they look like a couple? True they were standing rather close and were both shirtless, but…
“Obviously you’re not a couple,” she said, rolling her eyes. She had a thick European accent, but Owen couldn’t identify its origin. French, maybe. “Why would I pay ten thousand dollars to watch a gay couple fuck?” She laughed. “They’d probably let me watch for free.”
“We don’t need your money, lady,” Kelly said and pushed Owen to uproot his bare feet from the floor.
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