Caitlyn absorbed his words. Why did she want to make Charles jealous? It wasn’t because she wanted him back. Maybe she wanted the life they’d once had, but after his betrayal of her trust, even if they’d made amends, their relationship would have never been the same.
“At first I thought I did, but I don’t love him anymore. Not the way I once did. And I wasn’t trying to make him jealous. I wanted him to see that the guy I was banging was better looking than his nineteen-year-old co-ed. Save face, you know?”
Owen laughed. “Well I don't mind being your trophy lover, baby.”
Kellen groaned and sighed, sounding exasperated. “Bullshit, Owen. Will you just stop? Stop acting like this is all a game. Stop pretending you ooze self-confidence. Just stop. She knows, okay? You can drop the pretense and just be yourself, not the guy you present to women, to strangers, to get laid. Be the guy who still sees a miserable fat kid when he looks in the mirror.” Kellen whacked him on the side of the head for good measure. “Be yourself. The person I’m lucky enough to know. She deserves to get to know him too.”
Owen crossed his arms over his chest and glanced at the window. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Of course not.” The car pulled to a stop. Both men silently fumed while they waited for the driver to open the door.
“She’s not the kind of woman who would hurt you for being who you really are,” Kellen said. “She might even love you for it. I’m sick of you always shortchanging yourself and thinking it’s for the best. If I have to look at you for another minute, I’m going to strangle the life out of you.”
Apparently too annoyed to wait for the driver, Kellen flung the door open and climbed out of the car. Caitlyn and Owen sat there in uncomfortable silence, avoiding each other’s gazes.
Had Kellen really just said she might love Owen? And how could Caitlyn possibly hurt a guy she’d only known for a few hours? She glanced at Owen and caught the flash of panic in his eyes. Way to turn an evening of fun into something awkward and frightening, Mr. Kellen Whatever-Your-Last-Name-Is Guitarist Guy.
“I think he’s a little freaked out because I brought you home,” Owen said.
“Oh, is that all?”
Owen shook his head. “Don’t worry about what he said. I just want to enjoy your company for the evening. I’m not going to let you hurt my feelings. I’m not as sensitive as I used to be.”
She wasn’t buying his denial for a minute, but she had no intention of hurting his feelings. So what if he was sensitive? She liked that about him. She scooted up against him and slid a hand over his hard-muscled thigh. He flexed beneath her palm. At least she understood why he did that now. He was still self-conscious about his body.
“Are we allowed to make out in the back of the limo now that Kellen is gone?” she asked.
“I’d say yes,” he said with a grin.
His lips had barely brushed hers when her cellphone began to bleat in her purse.
“Who’s calling you at two in the morning?” he murmured against her lips.
Caitlyn didn’t know who’d call her this late, but it had better be an emergency. She finally had Owen alone again, and she wanted to exploit every second they had together. She fished her phone out of her handbag and saw Jenna’s name on the caller ID.
“Hey, Jenna,” Caitlyn said as she answered the phone. “What’s up?”
“Where are you? You were supposed to call me to pick you up and the club is closed now. I’ve been worried sick.”
“I’m fine. I decided to leave with someone.”
Owen lifted her hand and kissed her fingertips one at a time. Her belly began to quiver on cue.
“You met someone?” Jenna asked. “Is he nice?”
“Naughty and nice.”
Owen apparently liked that description. He was grinning ear to ear.
“So I won’t be home tonight,” she told Jenna.
Owen made a victory fist and Caitlyn smiled at him. She liked the feeling she got when she made him happy.
“Tell me all about him,” Jenna insisted.
“I will when I see you tomorrow,” Caitlyn said. “We were about to get busy when you so rudely interrupted.”
Jenna laughed. “About time you had some fun.”
“How irresponsible of me. But don’t worry, okay? I’m perfectly fine.”
“Okay.”
“She’s safe with me,” Owen said near the phone. “Well, relatively speaking.”
“Oh,” Jenna said, “he sounds cute.”
“On a scale of one to ten, he’s an eleven.” She winked at Owen. “We’ll talk later.”
“Okay, have a good time. Just be careful.”
“Did you forget that you’re talking to Ms. Responsibility?” Caitlyn said.
Jenna laughed. “Yeah, for a second I did forget.”
Caitlyn ended the call and tucked her phone back into her purse.
“Who was that?” Owen asked. “Or is that not any of my business?”
“That was my friend Jenna. I was supposed to call her for a ride. She was worried.”
“I thought maybe it was your ex-husband. He heard you were getting it on with an eleven in the back of a limo and decided he wanted you back.”
“Screw him,” Caitlyn said and wrapped her arms around Owen’s neck.
“No, screw me.”
“An even better idea.”
Chapter Seven
Owen held Caitlyn's hand as they rode the elevator to the top floor. Kelly hadn’t stuck around after he’d left the limo. Owen didn’t like that they’d ended the evening with harsh words, but he never liked to be in disagreement with Kelly because if Kelly had a beef with something, there was usually a good reason.
Still, Owen wasn’t sure why Kelly was so interested in his love life all of a sudden. It had never bothered him that Owen kept all interactions with women on a cursory level. He wasn’t sure what was going on in Kelly’s head, but it was a relief that Caitlyn knew the thing Owen hated most about himself and it hadn’t turned her away.
Caitlyn covered her mouth and stifled a yawn. Owen wondered if they'd put some sort of sleeping powder in the cheesecake. Or maybe she wasn’t used to being up so late.
“Are you tired?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Don’t think I’m going to let you sleep when we get to my room.”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way to keep me awake,” she said with a smile.
He loved her smile. It made her inquisitive brown eyes crinkle at the corners.
“That sounds like a challenge.”
When the elevator stopped, Owen placed a hand on Caitlyn's lower back and directed her toward his room. He remembered a time when all five members of the band had to share one seedy hotel room. It had been years ago, but they'd been closer then somehow. Of course it was hard not to be close when five guys shared one bathroom, one bottle of whiskey, and a few groupies between them.
Owen opened the door and Caitlyn entered his hotel room without hesitation. She was already comfortable in his presence, trusted him. He wondered how far he could take her tonight. Wondered if she'd stick around after the concert the next night and get to know him even better.
Standing behind her, Owen wrapped his arms around her and unbuttoned the three leather-covered buttons of her tweed jacket. He pulled the garment free and tossed it onto the sofa in the seating area just inside the door.
“Do you always wear suit jackets in the summer?” he asked before planting a gentle kiss on the side of her neck.
“I’m usually indoors, so yeah. Otherwise, I freeze in the AC.”
He didn’t plan on letting her freeze tonight.
She dropped her head to the side, allowing him to explore the silky flesh of her throat with his lips.
“Owen?” His name was like a soft caress on her lips.
“Yes?”
“I feel like I've known you for a long time. Has it really only been a few hours?”
&n
bsp; “I know what you mean.” He worked at the knot of fabric at her throat, wanting to sample more of her flesh. “Tell me about your business.”
She hesitated and then lifted her hands to help him untie the bow at her neck. “Now? But what I do isn’t sexy. I want to feel sexy when I’m with you.”
He kissed her ear and lowered his hands to cup her breasts. He squeezed gently. “I always think you're sexy,” he promised. “Especially when you’re telling me about yourself.”
“Like I said, we work on alternative forms of energy. I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m sort of a geek.” She giggled.
“Are you sharing something you thought I didn’t already know?”
She slapped his thigh. “You think I'm a geek?”
“I know you're a geek. I think it's sexy.”
She shook her head. “You're a weird guy, Owen Mitchell.”
“Are you complaining that I think you're sexy?” He reached for the top button of her blouse and unfastened it.
“No. I'm not sure I believe you. What can possibly be sexy about a woman who is more interested in the flow of electrons than she is in her hair?”
“I love your hair.” Thick, black, and lustrously wavy.
“That's because I actually combed it today.”
“And I had a great time messing it up.”
He unfastened another button on her blouse and then another. She seemed content to fall silent as he slowly unbuttoned her shirt and tugged it free of her jeans. He tossed it aside on the sofa as well. His hands moved to cup both breasts, and he kissed the side of her neck until some of the tension left her body. He rubbed his thickening cock against her sweet ass in case she didn't trust his words. He'd been with a lot of women, but this one pushed every one of his buttons, and he was ready to launch into orbit.
“Cute bra,” he said, watching over her shoulder as his finger traced the lace that bordered a plaid pattern.
“It doesn't match my panties,” she said. “I figured I should warn you.”
“Warn me?”
“That it doesn't match.”
He chuckled. “Why would I care if your bra matches your panties?”
“That’s not sexy either. I didn't think about dressing appropriately for outside the club. I didn't bring a little black dress on the trip, or anything to wear but my business attire, because I don’t own anything but what I wear to work. I simply don't remember how to be sexy for a man.” She looked at him over her shoulder, her eyebrows furled in a most adorable way. “Or maybe I never knew how.” She ducked her head, and he understood how she was feeling. He never felt confident in his sex appeal either. He was good at pretending, because women responded to a man with self-confidence, even if it was the biggest load of bullshit anyone ever laid on them.
“Caitlyn.”
When she kept her eyes downcast, he circled her body to stand before her. After a moment, he tucked a finger under her chin to force her to look him in the eye. She flushed when their eyes met, but held his gaze.
“What's truly sexy about a woman isn't what she wears. It isn't how much time and attention she spends on her hair. It's not that her bra matches her panties. It's the way she thinks, moves, speaks. That's what's sexy about a woman.”
He could tell by the look on her face that she wasn't buying his lines.
“And why did you pick me at the club?” she asked. “It wasn't because you knew I could think, you had seen how I move, and I hadn't spoken yet.”
“Damn, woman, I'm not used to talking to women as smart as you are. You're supposed to be happy that I want you for more than your fantastic body.”
“But I don't think you're being sincere.”
“Why?”
She shook her head. “I don't know.”
“What do I have to do to prove that I'm sincere? As soon as you stepped out of the dressing room at the club wearing that horrible jacket—”
“See, my jacket is horrible.”
“Let me finish. When I saw you wearing it, I was instantly hard again. I insist that you wear that horrible jacket as much as possible.”
She glanced at the discarded garment on the sofa. “Should I put it back on?”
He chuckled. “No. I like when you wear it in public, not when you’re alone with me. What's so hot about it is that it completely conceals what's beneath. Yet I know what's there. Those guys looking for a woman in a short skirt and tight sweater, they're not giving you a second glance because they're too blind to see how smoking hot you are. I mean look at yourself, Caitlyn. You're a ten.” His gaze traveled down her body, and he made a sound of desperation. “An eleven.”
“Takes one to know one.” She chuckled. “Though I think you're overstating your interest.”
He shook his head at her. Words didn't seem to work with the woman—she'd apparently been lied to one too many times—so maybe actions would do the trick. She squeaked in surprise when he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up over his shoulder. He took several long strides toward the bed and tossed her on the mattress.
“Show me that you want me,” she said, her eyes riveted to his crotch.
“If I let it loose, I'm going to have to fuck you with it.” He ran his hand over the hard ridge in his pants and sucked a pained breath through his teeth. “And I haven't tasted you yet.”
He reached for the button of her jeans and unfastened it. He couldn't wait to see her naked again. To smell her. Taste her. Touch her. He unzipped her pants and then tugged them down her legs. Her sensible loafers caught in her pant legs and joined her pants on the floor.
He stopped to check her out. When she'd said her panties didn't match her bra, she hadn't been joking. Her bra was black with plaid sections at the bottom of each cup. Her panties were a lurid fuchsia and decorated with a fluffy sheep. He smiled, but didn't laugh. He doubted a man had ever seen her wear that sheep, and maybe she didn't believe the privilege of being with her turned him on, but his twitching cock demanded to be pressed against those sweet panties.
“Owen?”
He unfastened his slacks and tugged his cock free. He ran his hand down its rigid length, pausing when his thumb pressed against his piercing. He rubbed the hard ball against the rim of his cock head, twitching as the pleasure registered.
“I want to come all over your sweet, little panties, Caitlyn,” Owen said. “I want to make them dirty. I want to make you dirty.”
“Yes, Owen,” she whispered. “Make me dirty.”
He leaned over her, supporting his body weight with one hand on the mattress beside her. He used his other hand to rub himself against those ridiculous panties that had him all worked up.
“Your clothes need to go,” she said. “I want to look at you.”
When he didn’t comply with her wishes immediately, she reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, shoving the fabric from his shoulders and caressing his chest with both palms.
“Every inch of you is perfect,” she whispered, and then she looked down to where he was introducing his cock to her sheep—well, the one on her underwear. Her fingertip brushed his cock head, and ripples of pleasure coursed down his length and settled at the base of his spine. “Especially this inch.”
“Inch?” he said defensively.
“Oh baby, your entire cock is massive and gorgeous, but that last inch, with this little treasure?” She flicked one end of his barbell stud. “That’s the best inch of all.”
He chuckled. She’d become enamored of his modification quickly, and it didn’t seem to bother her at all. Owen did enjoy turning a good girl bad.
“On second thought, I’d rather get those pretty, pink panties dirty with your cum instead of mine,” he said.
“Huh?”
He dropped to his knees on the floor, grabbed her by the hips and pulled her pussy to his face. He used his lips, tongue, and teeth to work her lips and clit through her panties. The taste of cotton overpowered her sweetness, but he’d be damned if the smell of her excitement seeping
through wasn’t completely worth the unusual mix of flavors.
“Owen!” she gasped. Her fingers twined in his hair, and she pulled him against her. “Yes, yes,” she crooned as she approached her peak.
Her panties were completely drenched within seconds. Some was the moisture from his mouth, but most was her juices. He used his tongue to press the fabric against her opening.
“Oh God, take them off me,” she gasped, still clinging to his hair. “I can’t stand it.”
“Can’t stand what?” he asked. He shifted to caress her clit with his lips, massaging the swollen bit of flesh through cotton.
“I’m going to come. Owen. I’m…” She sucked in a ragged breath when he began to gently scrape the edge of his teeth against one swollen lip. “Wait! I didn’t. So close…”
He smiled and blew a hot breath through her panties.
“Whoa. That’s… That’s…”
He loved that she was incoherent. There was something about blowing a smart girl’s mind that totally rocked his world.
“Do you want me to take these off now?” He ran a finger under the elastic at her inner thigh and dragged it through the slick heat that promised him heaven.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I want your tongue against my bare skin.”
His cock jumped in response to her words, but he played it cool. “I don’t think they’re wet enough yet.”
“I don’t think they could possibly get any wetter.”
He planned to prove her wrong. He shifted closer, so that his cock was lodged firmly in her cleft, and moved his hands to her breasts. She reached behind her back and unfastened her bra, yanking the garment from her body and tossing it to the floor.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her luscious breasts. He loved the contrast of his tanned hands against the soft white globes of flesh cupped in them. Liked the way her nipples pebbled into hard buds against his thumbs as he caressed the tips of her breasts in repetitive circles. He began to churn his hips in time with his thumbs, rubbing his engorged cock against her.
“Oh!” she gasped when he managed to work her clit just right.
Staring in her glazed eyes, he massaged her breasts, stroked her nipples, and rubbed his cock against her swollen heat until her mouth fell open and her body convulsed with pleasure.
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