Manipulated: a Rockstar Romantic Comedy (Hammered Book 3) (15 page)

When her nails hooked into my shoulders, I gave up and allowed my release to overtake me. To take me under. I plastered her to my chest, my mouth against her neck as I lost myself in her warm tropical scented arms.

I heard the slam of the doors just about the time my brains unscrambled.

“What was that?” Callie went still.

Metal ground against metal and the hiss of hydraulics was the only warning before we jerked into motion.

And not the fun kind.

“Oh, fuck.”

Callie just started laughing.

“And why are you laughing? You do realize we are locked in a moving truck.”

She just laughed harder.

“For hours.”

“Priceless. We hide on a truck and become luggage.”

“I don’t find this funny.”

She snorted and tried to stop laughing, but I could feel it building in her. For fuck’s sake, I was still balls deep inside her. She wrapped her arms around my neck. “How many hours of battery do you have on that iPad?” She rolled her hips. “Or any more magic condoms?”

“Cal.” I groaned as she did this twist and wiggle—fuck. “I have two more.”

“I love that you’re always prepared.”

“Obviously not since we’re headed to Boulder in a trunk.”

“It’s a comfy trunk. I think I sort of love this trunk.” She let out a soft, low groan as I got a little more excited about her plan. “In fact, I might have to keep this trunk for posterity.”

“Get in line, bunny. It’s my trunk.”

I tucked her against me and tried not to finish the rest of the statement winding through my head.

My bunny
.

I
dropped
to my knees on the stage. The crowd was wild for Hunter and Bats who were running around the stage like lunatics. I looked down to find blood on my Ibanez.

Well fuck, it was only the second time I’d actually used it on stage and it was already taking chunks out of me. Actually, more like “Hide the Scars” had worked me to the bone. We hadn’t played the song in a long time, but as with the theme of the tour, we’d been opening up the Pandora’s box on setlists.

Keys and Hunter were on Instagram Stories daily asking for dream setlists and we’d been killing ourselves to re-learn old songs for them. It was fun, but I definitely was not twenty-two anymore. Did I have practice from jerking off or something?

Christ, my wrist was throbbing and I’d sliced off the callous at the tip of my middle finger. It wasn’t heard of for any of us to bleed on our instruments, but it was usually more likely to be Bats.

Then again we’d played every damn night for the last seven days. That may have had something to do with my brokenness, but the song was fucking hard to play. Bass heavy songs had been a staple of our first few albums, but times had changed.

Hammered was a chameleon when it came to the business. We knew how to blend, and we knew how to shine. This tour was all about the shining, and it was fucking awesome.

I hauled myself to my feet. The glint of a lens in the dark held me in place. Damn that woman. Most of the photographers who got passes for shows only got the benefit of the first five songs. When bands weren’t exhausted and wrecked. Those were the pictures that the outlets wanted.
The Getty’s
and the
Music Life’s
, the occasional mention in
Rolling Stone
.

They wanted the rockstar, who was exalted. Not the musician who had poured every ounce of sweat—or this case blood—into a song and had been left wrung out. That was for the fans.

And for Callie who captured it all.

My Callie.

My little bunny who wasn’t rabbiting away from me so much anymore. And tonight I’d see just how far we’d come. Nerves churned in my gut as she smiled up at me and caught another shot.

Her smile faded as her fingers curled at the edge of the stage. Her eyebrows lowered in worry. I waved her off. That lens of hers—or her eye, whichever—always caught the truth.

I was definitely not looking my best. And a steady stream of blood dripped over the marbled white of my bass. I raced after Bats, a last burst of energy driving me forward into the home stretch.

One more song.

One more song and I’d have Callie tucked away into my Thunderbird to follow the winding trail to my house by the cliffs. We were playing for our home state of California and our fans poured on all the love.

The show had been nothing less than amazing, but I was beyond done. I needed this long weekend. Four days of no one and nothing but a naked Callie in my space. I wasn’t entirely sure I was even going to allow her to bring clothes.

She probably wouldn’t go for it, but it was a thought.

When the last wail of guitar and pounding of drums echoed into the crowd, I tugged the monitors out of my ears. The roar of the crowd gave me the strength of will to drag my tired ass toward the front of the stage for the last bows.

On the way, I saw Keys stumble from her dais. I caught her around the waist and swung her into my arms. “All right there?”

“Whoa. I didn’t know you had it in you.” She squeezed my arm, pressing her cheek to mine so I could hear her over the screams. “All sorts of wiry muscles under there.” Keys waved to the crowd. “Thanks, I’m not entirely sure I wouldn’t have stayed on my feet there.”

“I could literally drink a lake of water.”

She hugged me tighter. “Yes. Cold water. Just let me stand under one of those coolers.”

I grinned down at her. The burn of want was curiously absent. I’d been so focused on Callie for the last month, that I hadn’t noticed the pining lessen. In all actuality, I wasn’t sure there’d ever been more than a little what-if tugging at me.

It paled in compared to the way I felt around Callie.

My gaze drifted down into the photo pit. She stood frozen, with her camera in front of her chest. I winked down at her, but she didn’t move. Her expressive face went blank as her gaze darted me and Keys.

Suddenly her camera was back up and she was flying up and down the length of the stage. It was too dark to know if I had been seeing things or not. Especially when Callie’s smile was back in place and wide as hell for Wyatt and Bats hamming it up for the crowd.

She’s just doing her job.

The lights finally went dark and we found our way to the side of the stage where Quinn was coming at me like a bull. “Easy. She’s fine. Just needs a bit of water.”

Quinn lifted Keys out of my arms. “Are you fucking bleeding?”

“What? No.” Keys glanced down at herself and the splotch of red on her white jeans.

“It’s me.” I held up my hand. “Bass bit me.”

Quinn scowled.

“Relax, Warden.” Keys rolled her eyes. “He won’t be happy until I’m on my own pins.”

“Dressing room,” Quinn growled.

“Thanks, Owen. You’re the best.”

I gave her an exaggerated bow. “Anything for you.” I caught Callie out of the corner of my eye. “Hey you.”

She frowned at me, then backed up.

“Cal?” I jogged after her.

“I was worried about you, but evidently, it was unnecessary.”

“I need nursing.”

“Oh, yeah. I could tell.”

I followed her down the hallway. “Keys almost took a header off her riser. We were all gonzo at that point, bunny.”

“Well, aren’t you the pirate in shining armor to sweep her off her feet.”

“And into her husband’s arms.”

She paused for a second, but then kept on flying down the hallway.

I reached for her, then swore at the blood dripping down my hand. The smallest cuts always looked like a machete had been used. I hooked my arm around her waist and hauled her into the bathroom. Manhandling women was going to be my claim to fame today.

“Get off me, you’re disgusting.”

I laughed, but set her down inside the door. When she tried to escape, I slapped my hand on the door. “Not what you said last night when I cornered you after the show.”

“Well, yesterday you weren’t covered in blood as well as sweat. Gross.”

“Come on, bunny, don’t you want to play doctor?”

“Dammit, Jim, I’m a phot—wait…that doesn’t work.”

I laughed down at her. Her witty comebacks didn’t always work when I was encroaching on her space. I rather liked her defensive and prickly. Not sure what that said about my character, but it torqued me up something fierce most days.

My mouth hovered along hers, our noses brushing. “There’s all sorts of things that are ailing me, love.”

She rolled her eyes at me and pushed me back. “You’re incorrigible.”

“That’s precisely why I got into your panties to begin with, bunny.”

“Well, the blood thing brings it down a few notches. Just stay over there.” She eased her bag to the floor and rummaged inside.

I dragged my shirt over my head and turned on the cold water taps. When she came up with bandaids and triple antibiotic, I snorted. “Really?”

“You’re not the only one with war wounds, pal.”

She dragged my hand under the water and I hissed.

“Don’t be a baby.”

“Florence Nightingale you are not.”

“Then go back to Keys if you want sweet bedside manners.”

“She’s not much better actually.” I pushed her work braid over her shoulder to get to the back of her neck as she tried to rip off the tip of my finger. “Jesus, woman.”

“Hold still.”

I nipped at the nape of her neck, then yelped when she pulled the skin taut with some bastardized butterfly bandage. “You know it’s very difficult to seduce you while you’re pulling a Nurse Ratched.”

“You were the one that dragged me in here. You get what you get.”

“Hey.” I turned her around, cupping her face to tilt her gaze up to mine. “You’re the only one I want rescuing my fingers.” At her still furrowed brow, I swiped my thumbs across the line of her cheekbones. “My fingers are my bread and butter, love. You understand that better than anyone.”

Her fingers rested at my belt. “Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t trust them to anyone else.”

She nibbled her bottom lip. I really had no choice, I had to rescue the lip. It hadn’t ever done anything to anyone. Well, besides my cock. And that had been all of the amazing.

I kissed her slowly, waiting for her to lose the tension in her arms and shoulders. Her nails raked through the hair on my chest. Her thumbnail swiped across my nipple, leaving a burn of hunger.

Backstage was full of friends and family. I didn’t want to talk to any of them.

I curled my fingers around hers, pulling them away from me before I got carried away. “Come home with me?”

“Home?” She laughed. “Well, the bus is getting a little homey, but I wouldn’t go that far.”

“No, my house. I live relatively close.”

She frowned. “Really?”

“I
am
from California, bunny.”

She flushed. “Yes, I know that. I guess I just didn’t think about it.”

“We have four days off. I do not want to spend it on that fucking bus.” When she didn’t answer me I brought her hand up to my mouth. “Spend the weekend with me?”

“I…”

“Just us and my huge house on the water. You can hear the ocean from my window.”

She sucked in a breath. “Okay.”

“Ocean did it, huh?” I grinned. “Usually does.”

The sweet smile faded. “I bet.”

“Now don’t get all thorny. I only bring friends there.”

“Is that what you call the women in your life?”

“Woman. One. Just you—” She tensed again and started to back up. “And before you get riled up, there’s been no other woman in my place.”

“Owen…”

No strings.

I was sick and tired of no strings. I wanted her tied to me, dammit. But I wasn’t sure I could ask it of her yet. Even if every part of me wanted to. The closer we got to the end of the tour, the more those words haunted me.

“Take a chance. There’s nothing I want more than to lay you out on my bed and watch the sun rise with you.”

She finally nodded and I took it for the green light it was. I felt bad leaving my mates in the lurch, but all of us were ready for a little break from each other, from the bus, from the lack of privacy.

So much so that I didn’t want to give her any chance to change her mind. I’d had this planned out since our night in Boulder. That night in the trunk had been the catalyst. I knew there were moments in between then that had cemented my feelings for Callie, but that night had changed me.

I couldn’t use the word casual for any of the feelings I had for her.

In fact, every word had been leading back to the exact opposite. Forever, complete,
mine—
to name just a few.

“Owen, what’s the rush?”

“Four days.”

She squeaked as we snuck out the side door and down a rickety set of steps. “Yeah, days, not four hours.”

“Not nearly enough time,” I shot back over my shoulder.

As usual, Indie came through for me. My classic Thunderbird was waiting at the back of the parking lot.

When we got to the char, she smoothed her hand over the fin of the convertible. “I’m beginning to think you have a fetish.”

I grinned. “Beginning?”

She flushed.

I loaded her into my car and gnashed my teeth through the ride out of the city. All I wanted was my house, and my girl, but it felt like we’d never get there.

I glanced beside me. Callie had her face tilted up to the star strewn sky as the ocean roared into view. Monterey—a bit of wild and perfect in a city full of the crazy. Normally, I lived for the trip along the winding roads that lead to my sanctuary.

A place that had only ever been mine.

Sure my family had been there, but never a woman. That hadn’t been a line.

Maybe it had simply been waiting for her.

She gasped when my house came into view. I saw it through her eyes for a moment. Nothing but gold light flooded the glass and ash wood structure I’d had carved out of the cliffs. I’d had my housekeeper come in and set up the place, turn on the lights, fill the fridge.

Money was handy when you needed a way to show off your place for your girlfr—no, that was right. My girlfriend. My chest tightened, then eased at the sound of it in my head. I liked girlfriend—even wanted something more permanent.

“Oh, we forgot our bags.”

I laughed and dragged her up the steps. “Had them sent ahead.”

She looked up at me, linking her fingers around the back of my neck. “Sure of yourself?”

“No.” I brushed my nose with hers. “Not at all, really. I took a chance.”

She cleared her throat. “Well, good thing I said yes, huh?”

“Very good thing.” I opened the front door with a code and pulled her inside. She gasped and babbled her way up the stairs, but I had one place in mind. I wanted her in my bed. I wanted her splayed out under me and there next to me in the morning.

I wanted that more than anything.

“Owen,” she said on a startled breath when I pushed her through the door to my bedroom. “What’s the rush?”

“I just need you.”

“O-o-okay.”

My lips raced over her neck as I flipped her pink sugar skull T-shirt over her head and flicked open the lacy little bra. I needed her on my tongue. Her hard nipple between my lips and swelling under my teeth.

I swung her into my arms and peeled off her stretchy pants. I reached into the drawer for protection and got it on before I slid home. She gasped, but thank God she was ready for me.

I had to make it good for her, but I was so far gone, I couldn’t work around the noise in my head. Her nails scored down my back and I breathed a sigh of relief as I came. I’d make it up to her later.

She slumped under me and her arms slid onto the bed. “What was that about?”

“Sorry. I don’t know actually.”

You do. You know.

I ignored the voice and rolled off of her dragging her on top of me. “I wasn’t too rough, right?”