Manipulated: a Rockstar Romantic Comedy (Hammered Book 3) (14 page)

“
L
ook
, I don’t want to leave you in the lurch as you so delicately put it, but I need a little time.” She sighed and waved me into her little makeshift lab we’d created out of a U-Haul we’d bought on the cheap. It was small as hell, but Callie seemed to like it well enough. And it hitched on the back of the trucks that followed us around.

A few days into the tour, after we found her crammed under a table in the dressing room, we decided she needed a private area away from everyone. We were only on the fourth show, and still getting used to the constant documentation. Callie tried not to be invasive, and we tried not to give her strange looks when she asked for certain poses.

I was getting used to her quirks. Like last night when she’d hopped out of my bunk and spent an hour taking pictures of guitar pedals that Zach had left out. They were old as shit, and he wouldn’t throw the damn things out even though they needed fixing after every show. Of course, Zach was the only one that could get them working once again.

The fact that she did all that picture taking in a pair of my boxers and a stolen T-shirt didn’t hurt. I could watch her for hours. Good thing, because I was learning that I had to wait her out.

There was no luring Callie out of her camera-zone. I just had to be patient until she saw me as a person again. She seemed to see the world through a slightly skewed lens. I was fascinated by her layers of complexities.

I understood musicians. Any one of us could spend six weeks—or six minutes—writing a song. It was done when the song was done. Period.

So, most of us gave her wide berth when she went into that mode.

I dropped onto the only other chair in her mini space and slouched down to wait. She had three large monitors in a U-shaped setup and photos from the Dallas show were scattered across the left and right screens, with her photo editing program in the center.

“Thanks. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Not that long.” Her voice was strained and she was turned away from me.

My gut twisted. I didn’t like talking about end dates. I didn’t like even thinking about them. We’d spent almost the entire week together. She was hilarious and the sex was phenomenal. I’d convinced her to have sex on the bus once—while trying not to scream, never mind breathe too loudly—but we seemed to like more unconventional places.

Like the back of the arena in Austin, and there’s even been a hot make-out session on the catwalk in Dallas. Now, we’d landed in Nowheresville, Colorado. The bus had blown an axle and we had a three-hour holdover before we got back on the road.

Finally, she put the phone back down. “Is it time to leave?”

I shook my head. “Three hours.”

She sagged in her chair. “Well, I have enough work to do for three hours, I guess.”

“Or…” I set down the iPad beside her keyboard.

“What’s this?”

“It’s an iPad.”

She blew a stray hair out of her face. “Funny guy.”

I grinned at her. “There’s just enough time for a movie.”

She spun her chair to face me. “What kind of movie?”

“You’ll just have to come see.”

“Come where?”

I smiled wider. “Loaded question.”

She rolled her eyes. “Is that all you think about?”

I drummed my fingers on the table for a sec, then nodded. “Yep.”

“Handy, that’s all I think about too.”

“Damn right, woman.” I hauled her chair closer and took her mouth. She made a little humming sound that instantly made me hard. When oxygen became an issue, I let her go. “So, you want to ditch with me?”

Her eyes were big and dreamy, but were starting to clear. Couldn’t have that. “I really should work.”

“You’d normally be on the bus anyway.”

She nibbled on her lip. “That’s true.”

“See. No arguments.” I stood and hauled her up against me. She smiled, but it wasn’t her usual teasing kind. This one was distracted with sadness inching in. I laced my fingers at the small of her back. “All good?”

“Yeah, of course.” Her smile brightened and a bit of the Callie I was beginning to know definitely came through. But I could tell she wasn’t all the way with me.

We didn’t talk about personal things much. We were too busy screwing our brains out, or doing band crap. Press tours, concerts, fan club events—there was no end to the list of things we had to do on a tour. Callie even came with us to the radio stations and added a shit-ton of photos to her ever increasing catalog.

“Shut down.”

She sighed. “All right, Mr. Bossypants.” With a few clicks, the pictures disappeared and her screens winked out. She grabbed her coat as we left and locked up her workspace.

I tucked the iPad under my coat and clasped her hand in mine. I drew her across the gravel strewn parking lot. People were every-damn-where. The food truck had stayed behind so we wouldn’t have to find food, and Indie was barking orders at whomever crossed her path.

I was trying to steer clear of her wrath.

The second bus could have gone ahead. We liked to call it the Smug Married Bus though it wasn’t only the marrieds who stayed on it, but Keys wouldn’t go ahead without us.

The equipment trucks had continued on to the venue in Boulder. This leg of the tour was kind of a greatest hits spots. All of the best venues of our career.

Callie’s job had been to recreate a few of the older shots, while doing new versions of her own. She was hella talented and we were lucky to have her.

She stuffed her free hand into her coat pocket. “Remind me never to complain about sixty-degree-nights again.”

I dragged her closer. Didn’t stop her teeth from chattering up a storm. Colorado in January wasn’t quite the same as Texas, that was for sure. I hooked a left and climbed up the track into the last truck remaining.

“You’re not dragging me off to kill me, are you?”

“You gotta stop watching
Texas Chainsaw Massacre
.”

She shuddered. “It was a terrible movie. I prefer straight horror, not…that.”

I grinned at her need not to insult anything in her precious horror genre. Even if she didn’t love a movie, she respected the craft. Which was why I had her favorite movie on my iPad.

She glanced over her shoulder. “Neal is going to kick your ass.”

Our head of equipment was a scary guy. I glanced down at her. “You’ll protect me, right?”

“Maybe. Depends.”

I let her hand go and pulled out the bag of Rolos in my inner pocket.

She snatched it out of my hand. “Definitely.”

“That’s my girl.”

She was already shredding a gold foiled chocolate wrapper. Damn ninja got the bag open without me even hearing a rustle.

I brought her to the back of the truck and flipped open a trunk.

“You want me to get in there,” she asked around a mouthful of candy.

I nodded. “Indie can’t find us back here. And it’s warm.”

She stepped in. “Okay, you had me at warm.” She rubbed her hands together before reaching back into the bag for another caramel. I stepped in after her and pulled down the lid. There were holes in the top of this particular trunk. It was where the leather costumes were stored. And no one wanted musty smelling leather on them. That and if someone cracked one of my leather guitar straps there would be death.

I settled along the back of the box and hauled Callie between my legs. “Hello there.”

“Hi.” Her voice was soft and a little hesitant.

I shuffled her back tighter against me and wrapped my arms around her waist. “So, I have this movie you might like.” I peeled back the magnetic cover and the iPad lit up our little space. I tucked my chin into her shoulder and brought up iTunes. I’d already cued up the selection.

She squealed as the house came into frame. A jack o’lantern glowed from the iconic house of Michael Myers. She slapped my arm. “I can’t believe you got this.”

“It’s one of your favorites, right?”

“Only my most favorite.” Callie turned to give me a sweet kiss. I couldn’t really say most of our kisses were sweet these days. They were usually a clash of wills to find out who could break who first.

She was getting really good at breaking me.

We settled in and the shredded pile of candy wrappers grew as her tension ebbed and flowed. I knew she’d seen the movie a couple hundred times, but she still got into every scene. When the movie faded to black and the freaking eerie piano music filled the space, she turned in my arms.

“I can’t believe you did this.”

I set the iPad aside, but didn’t close the cover. I liked looking at her. “Why not?”

“Not just anyone will sit through an old movie like that.”

I shrugged. “I knew you liked it. We share a love of horror films.”

She made a rude noise. “If you can call what you love horror.”

“
Saw
is a very good movie.”

“Torture porn,” she said in a snide voice.

I laughed as I cupped her jaw. “I like seeing you smile. I knew it would do the trick.”

She covered my hand with hers. “Not every man is like you, Owen Blackwell.”

“Any decent man would want the same thing.”

She let out a bitter laugh and curled into my chest. “Again, not all men.” She settled her cheek against my heart. “I’m divorced, you know.”

I stilled. It was rare for her to volunteer information about herself. I smoothed my fingers into her hair. “Never an easy thing to deal with.”

“No.” She touched the slice of skin between the buttons of my Henley shirt, making little circles with the pad of her finger. “I got married when I was nineteen.”

“Wow.”

“And no, not because I got pregnant.”

I massaged the base of her neck when she tensed. “I didn’t say anything.”

She sighed. “No, you didn’t. Sorry, but it’s usually the first thing someone asks. I loved him until I didn’t any longer. Until I couldn’t. He kept pushing me into this little box that he thought I should be in. I never quite lived up to what he thought I should be. My clothes weren’t right, my friends weren’t right, I wasn’t able to give him enough ins. Nor to make the cone’d expected from someone with my background.” She sighed. “My parents are wealthy, so naturally I could help him achieve his great plans by introducing him to everyone they know. Even though I don’t know them myself.”

“He was a fucking idiot.”

She pressed her lips against my neck. “Say that again.”

“He was a fucking idiot.” Anger got the best of me and it came out nearly incoherent with the Irish in my voice. The light from the iPad went out as the lock screen came down.

She straddled my legs. “I love when your Irish gets going. I mean it’s always there, of course, but when you get mad or into a song.” She caught my mouth in a slow, caramel-tinged kiss.

“You, bunny, are full of
misneach
.”

Her finger traced my lower lip in the dark. “What does that mean?”

“Full of courage.” She covered my mouth and I held her tight to me. We were always racing for something. For laughter, for lust, for the desperate way we were together.

But we didn’t race here.

There was time enough for us, for a moment. I forced myself to slow down, to sip from her mouth, her neck, and nibble at her ear until she shivered. She tried to push at my shirt, fumbled at my jeans, but I just kept the slow pace until she sighed against my lips.

Until her fingers gentled, and smoothed into my hair. Her sweet voice murmured my name between kisses. Honestly, it felt a little like an illicit make-out session from my teen years.

I treated it as one. I stayed over her clothes. Instead of diving for skin, I skimmed my fingers at the hem of her T-shirt. She shifted restlessly on top of me.

Fortitude don’t fail me now.

I slowed my teasing, taking my cues from the soft sighs in the dark. She slowly undulated against me until both of us were straining against each other. Part of me was screaming to get inside her, and yet another part of me just wanted to revel in the liquid heat that was building between us.

When her breath stalled and her moans hit a fevered pitch, I lost it. I dug my fingers into her jeans to feel her pulse against my fingers. She gripped my arm and bit my shoulder as she went over.

I didn’t let up. I followed her through each shuddering moment until I couldn’t breathe around the urgency created by her taste, and the lunacy that held me in a grip almost as delicious as hers.

“Inside me.”

“Bit of a tough space for it, bunny.”

“Make it work,” she growled.

I grinned against her neck. “You couldn’t be wearing one of those hot little skull skirts today, huh?”

She laughed. “I was cold.”

“Not so cold right now then?” I licked salt from her collarbone.

“Um, that would be a no.”

“Then get these denims off.”

“Yes, sir.” She slid off my lap and pushed the lid up enough for a little room, then she was over me again.

Strong hands, strong thighs—fuck, I was going to finish against her damn belly if she kept this up.

“Did you think ahead for this, Blackbeard?”

I nipped her throat and she squeaked. “Anytime I get you within three inches of my body I’m thinking ahead.”

“Well, then.” Her swollen slit brushed against my cock. “I’d say it’s time for a magic condom.”

“Like this magic condom?” I dug one out of my shirt pocket.

“Dark as a cave there, Captain.”

“Oh, well, yeah there is that.” I took care of protecting both of us and settled her where she needed to be. Where I loved her to be. Where I craved her to be at all times lately.

“God,” she said with a rush of breath.

“You can call me that if you wish, love, but Owen’s fine.”

She giggled and lowered herself onto me again, and then neither of us were laughing anymore. She was the softness to my hard, taking all of me. I fisted my fingers into her hair, dragging her mouth to mine.

I had a damn cramp in my thigh from thrusting up to meet each of her downward strokes, but I didn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop until I heard that sound, felt that quiver.

There. Around the ocean of blood rushing my head, I heard that little hiccup of a moan.