Manipulated: a Rockstar Romantic Comedy (Hammered Book 3)

by Taryn Elliott

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 p
ink 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?”

  “God, no. Every woman wants to say they were throughly ravished.”

  I grinned down at her. “That you were.” I wrestled out of my pants and flipped my phone out of my pocket and onto the bed, before tossing my jeans to the farthest reaches of the room.

  She settled in against me and I lifted my phone to flash a picture. The first time she’d been in my space. I needed it for myself.

  She pushed at her hair. “Oh, Owen. Being ravished doesn’t mean you get to take a picture of it.”

  I laughed. “Sorry.” I tossed my phone onto the end table. Before I settled back in with her I snagged another condom out of my drawer. I owed her a little more than a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am.

  When I was done with her, she was a limp noodle and her thighs were still quaking. Only then did I flop onto my back beside her.

  “Do you do underwater sports, or is that just a fun side hobby you have there?”

  I turned my head with a grin. “Say what now?”

  She held a finger up as her chest heaved. “I need a minute. I think I forgot how to breathe.”

  I rolled onto my side and swiped my tongue over her nipple, taking it inside my mouth for a thorough suck before releasing the dark rose tip. Her back arched for more. I was dead on my feet, but willing to oblige.

  She caged my face with her fingers. “Uncle. I can’t come again. I’m dehydrated.”

  “I should feed you.”

  She rested a shaking hand on her belly. “I can’t move.”

  “Well, you can just lay there.”

  “No, I prefer to participate, but I require sustenance.” She licked her lips and pushed her hair out of her face. “And a shower.”

  “You start the shower, I’ll get us a gallon of water and carbs.”

  “Could those carbs include ice cream?”

  I slid out of bed and threw a smile over my shoulder. “Aye, I think that can be arranged.”

  “You are a god among men.”

  “Don’t say that around my ma, she’ll have your knees bruised purple from kneeling at a pew.” I leaned back. “I, however, would help you end up with bruised knees for a lot less holier ventures.”

  “You’re all heart.”

  “So, I’ve been told.”

  “Get.” She pushed me out of bed with her foot. She pushed her hair out of her face. “Get me ice cream.”

  “I’m going, I’m going. So damn pushy.”

  She sat up in bed, holding a sheet around her chest. “Can you carry me to the shower?” She held up her arms, the sheet falling away.

  “The lady plays dirty.”

  “But I can’t walk. It’s too far.”

  I laughed and dragged her out of bed, but instead of the romantic carry, I tossed her over my shoulder. She slapped my ass. “Not what I had in mind.”

  I set her down in my master bathroom. “Think you can manage?”

  She made a slow circle and those summer sky eyes started to get all focused. No focusing tonight, thank you. I led her to the huge glass shower and turned on all the taps.

  Surefire way to distract.

  “Oh, what’s that?”

  I grinned at the wonder in her voice. Same tone I had when I saw the bathroom the first time. Nine different shower heads and a rain hood would do that to a person.

  She stepped under the spray, then waved me away. “Okay, you can go now. I need to be alone with my new boyfriend.” She blinked water out of her eyes and scooped her hair out of her face. “I didn’t mean—”

  I dragged her back to the doorway and kissed her hard. “Mean it, bunny. I want you to mean it.”

  Her eyelashes were starred with water and so wide I feared she’d need surgical assistance.

  When she didn’t say anything, I gentled the kiss, then stepped back. I needed to let her get used to the idea. “I’ll be right back with that ice cream.”

  “Right. Okay.” She stepped back under the stream of water.

  I grabbed a pair of boxers before I ran downstairs. I raided every pantry I had to make the perfect sundae for us to share and grabbed two bottles of water. By the time I got back upstairs, she was out of the shower and curled into the huge pie-shaped chair I had by my picture window.

  I set the bottles on the table, then the huge bowl into her lap. “Here we go.”

  “Holy crap.” She swiped her finger through the layer of whipped cream.

  I grabbed her hand and drew her finger into my mouth. “Delicious.” Then kissed her. She drew a slow breath in as I eased back, then settled behind her. “Like my chair, then?” I settled her back against my chest.

  “Best seat in the house.”

  I scooped her wet hair over her shoulder and settled my chin against her shoulder. “I’d have to agree. Especially now.”

  She smiled a little, then held up a spoonful of sundae to me. “Yeah.”

  Now this was a little bit of perfect. I curled my arms around her waist. “More, please.”

  “Now I have to feed you?”

  “It’s only right, don’t you think?” I grazed my lips against her throat.

  “Owen, the ice cream is going to melt if you keep that up.”

  I took the bowl from her and set it on the table. “I’ve got more.”

  15

  Callie

  I was pretty sure I was going to turn into a puddle on Owen’s expensive bedsheets.

  Scratch that. I was already a puddle.

  Maybe I’d died and this was the afterlife. All things considered, leaving this mortal coil after a string of orgasms so long that your chicken had been thoroughly choked—not so bad.

  “I don’t have a chicken,” I mumbled, pressing my face against a hard male shoulder. “Unless my button counts as…as a little chicken?”

  Rich husky male laughter poured over me and I shifted, wanting to get closer to the source. His chest was rumbling with it, but I wanted his mouth. Oh, his mouth. Dreams were born and satisfied there.

  Eyes closed, I moved toward where his lips should be. When we were millimeters apart, he fisted a handful of my hair and made me open my eyes.

  His were oh so blue, terribly satisfied, and centered right on mine.

  “What are you on about, bunny?”

  “Choking a chicken.”

  His eyebrows winged up. “Okay. Some dream you had there. Did you grow a wanker then in yours?”

  “A wanker?” I almost felt behooved to check under the sheets. “No, no wanker. Just I know that’s a term for coming a lot, right? And I did. So did. But no penis. Is my clit a little chicken?”

  “Just when I think you’re completely nonsensical, a little bit sneaks in to keep me off my guard. Darling, you didn’t masturbate. I can tell you that for sure, as I happily did all the heavy lifting.” He peeled up my sheet and I had the joy of watching his expression glaze and his jaw actually slacken. “I’m about to go for round two.”

  “Round two? Try round fifteen. A match can’t have this many rounds. You nearly killed me via fucking.”

  His lips curled and his fingers tightened in my hair as he tipped my head back. “Finally I get a fucking out of that pretty, polite mouth. Did I have to coax it out of you?” H
is other hand coasted down my back. “Should I give you more of the same and see what else you can say when properly motivated?”

  I tipped my forehead against his. “Huh. I did say it. Didn’t even mention forking first.”

  “A damn stupid word, by the way.”

  “What about spooning and sporking?” I shifted and settled myself against his morning wood. Such an early riser.

  Then I lifted my head and squinted at the alarm clock. “No way. It can’t be that late. We slept this long?”

  “Needed recovery time, love. I’m an extraordinary man for sure, but even I have my limits.” Grinning, he pressed a kiss to my nose. “Besides, we ate too somewhere in there. Have you forgotten?”

  I seemed to have forgotten a lot, including how to use the lower half of my body. An inconvenience, since I now urgently had to pee.

  If only I could have been certain I wouldn’t trip in the bedsheets and fall flat on my face if I attempted to move. That was how out of sorts I felt. My limbs were warm and loose, and my head…

  Yeah, I was even loopier than usual. In a very good way.

  “So this idea to come here to get away, gotta say excellent plan, rockstar.” I planted a kiss on his mouth, and though he smiled, something dimmed in his gaze.

  “That has no place here in this bed.”

  “Sure it does. It’s part of you, just like I’m a photographer. It goes with me everywhere, whatever I’m doing or who I’m with.” I rolled over to grab my iPhone off the nightstand.

  Post-sex selfie time. I better take pictures of my after-coitus face as proof. For who, I didn’t know, but as they always say, pictures or it didn’t happen.

  And this had definitely happened. The whisker burn on my breasts and inner thighs could attest to that.

  I settled back into the pillows and lifted the phone. Before I clicked the shot, I fiddled and tried different angles. Even in a quickie photo wasn’t quickie for me.

  Oops, nip slip. I tugged up the sheet and clicked the button.

  Owen leaned over and pressed his cheek against mine. The sheet dipped precipitously lower but my breasts were still covered. I just looked as if I’d had an incredible time.

  “Take the picture of us, bunny.”

  That low, sleep-roughened voice in my ear could make me do all manner of things, most of them naughty. This particular thing wasn’t even a stretch. I wanted to take pictures of us all loved up and cuddling in bed. I wanted ones even more intimate than this. Ones where Owen nudged the sheet down and cupped my breast, trapping one taut nipple between his fingers.