Thrill Me

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by Olivia Cunning


  They hashed out their plans, and she gave him her address. It would probably be noon before he arrived on Saturday. It was about a three-hour drive from his house to Caitlyn’s place, and she didn’t want to be responsible for him falling asleep behind the wheel if he attempted the trip without resting. He had a big show in New Orleans Friday night, followed by a flight and then the ditching of a pregnant groupie in Austin. He had no business driving so far after a sure-to-be exhausting day.

  “Can’t wait to see you Saturday,” he said.

  “Sinday,” she corrected, allowing her voice to drop to a husky timbre. She could be sexy when she put her mind to it.

  “I thought we weren’t waiting until Sunday.”

  “We’re not. Every day with you is a Sinday.”

  He laughed, and she wished they were together now so she could see his amused smile.

  “Well, then, I’m determined never to disappoint you. Until Sinday. Our first of many.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Chapter Three

  After their show in New Orleans, Owen stood next to Kelly, trying to gain his attention. After several moments of shifting from one foot to the other and clearing his throat, Owen figured he was going to have to shove Kelly’s singular fixation, Dawn, under the sofa to get him to look his way. The guy had been glued to her side since she showed up in Beaumont the night before. She’d even followed him to tonight’s gig. Owen could understand Kelly’s attraction to the stunning redhead; it was obvious why Kelly had broken his vow of celibacy with the beautiful, charming, and intelligent woman. But despite Dawn’s abundant appeal, Owen was reminded of his friend’s utter infatuation with his last great love, and Kelly’s trend with obsessive romantic relationships was quite concerning.

  Kelly had all but forgotten Owen was alive the entire time he’d been involved with Sara, and Owen was pretty sure Kelly had already forgotten he was alive now that Dawn was in the picture. He’d scarcely acknowledged Owen’s existence all day, even though Owen really wanted to talk to him about how great Caitlyn was and about how worrisome Lindsey and the baby might become. Kelly didn’t want to dwell on either topic. All he wanted to talk about—for the few moments Owen had caught him alone—was his new lover. Isn’t she amazing? He’d said the same thing about Sara countless times. Owen and Kelly’s friendship had scarcely survived that romance, and as Owen now touched Kelly’s shoulder and was still ignored, he figured he had reason to worry that while Kelly had gained a new friend, Owen had lost one.

  Dawn pulled her gaze from Kelly’s lovesick face long enough to spare a glance for Owen. Only then did Kelly acknowledge that someone other than Dawn existed.

  “Hey, what’s up?” Kelly asked, his face lighting up with a smile.

  Owen felt slightly better that Kelly at least looked happy to see him. “I talked to Sally, and she said we can charter a second flight tonight if you and Dawn want to head back to Austin with us for the weekend.”

  “We’re staying in New Orleans tonight,” Kelly said. He squeezed Dawn’s hand. “And then we’ll be off to Galveston in the morning.”

  Owen scrunched his brows together. “But you were just in Galveston.” And because he’d made so many memories with Sara there, Galveston made Kelly moody. Why the hell would he want to keep going back there?

  “I’ll probably be spending a lot of time there since that’s where Dawn lives,” Kelly said.

  Before Owen could remind him that he lived in Austin and maybe Kelly should consider splitting his attention between those who cared about him, Dawn leaned forward to catch Kelly’s eye. He turned from Owen to stare at her again. Jeez, what was wrong with the guy?

  “I just live there temporarily,” she said. “I’ll have to go back to LA soon. Now that the song is done, I have no reason to hide out there anymore.”

  “Maybe you should renew your lease and write a new song.” Kelly lifted Dawn’s hand to his lips to give her amazingly talented piano-playing fingers a reverent kiss.

  “With you on my bench, I’ll either be too distracted to write a single note or so inspired by your virility that I’ll write scores and scores of measures.”

  As their heated gazes turned smoldering, the two lovebirds kissed. Ugh.

  “I guess I’ll see you in a few days,” Owen said loudly.

  Kelly waved him away before burying his hands in Dawn’s fiery mane of hair and deepening their kiss.

  Owen wondered if Kelly was ignoring him because he was still pissed at him for taking his precious cuff away. Maybe Kelly wasn’t actually hypnotized by Dawn's magical, celibacy-breaking vagina. Maybe her presence just made it easier for him to give Owen the cold shoulder. Owen did feel bad about taking Kelly’s security-blanket-of-a-wrist-cuff and tossing it into the luggage compartment under the bus—he knew how important that piece of jewelry was to the guy—but how could he convey his guilt and offer his apologies when Kelly was so busy trailing after Dawn? Touching Dawn? Talking to Dawn? Teasing Dawn?

  Of course, Owen couldn’t blame his bad temper solely on Kelly and Dawn. His ill will was likely a result of him not having the privilege of spending time with Caitlyn while at the same time being stuck with Lindsey. That combination would make any horny guy cranky. Even mooning cows and the adrenaline rush of outrunning a charging bull that afternoon hadn’t cheered him up. He knew Jacob had insisted on their outing to help him escape the ever-present Lindsey for a few hours, but Owen’s bad mood was due more to Kelly being unavailable and Caitlyn making him promise not to blow a load than anything Lindsey had done. Stuffing his face with Cajun food had made him feel a little better and performing live with Kelly and the rest of the guys had made him feel almost like himself again. But as soon as the show had ended, Kelly had been back in Dawn’s arms and pretending Owen didn’t exist. The jerk. Was Kelly really that ticked off about that stupid fucking wrist cuff? Or worse, was he already wrapped so tightly around Dawn’s little finger that he couldn’t function without her?

  Owen tried again to reach him. “If you really want your cuff back—”

  Kelly pulled away from Dawn long enough to say, “Aren’t you going to miss your flight?” before he leaned in for another kiss, a deeper kiss.

  God, this fucking sucked. But he took Kelly’s none-too-subtle cue and left.

  Owen was forced—or perhaps expected—to sit next to Lindsey in the limo and on the plane and even on the shuttle to the parking lot to pick up his Jeep. He’d spent more time with her the last few days than anyone he actually wanted to hang out with. He couldn’t wait to drop her off at a Holiday Inn and spend the night alone in his bed, even though he knew he wouldn’t get much sleep with Caitlyn on his mind and, therefore, an unfulfilled boner in his boxers.

  When the shuttle drew to a halt, Owen shook Lindsey awake. He wasn’t sure if her hand was on his thigh intentionally or by chance, but he was so horny that even her accidental or on-purpose touch was making him hard. He’d made it through Thursday night and all of Friday without breaking his word to Caitlyn. Several women had tried to convince him to join them for some fun on a mattress, but he’d resisted. He hadn’t come once in all that time, and he was so on edge, so keyed up, that everything seemed to give him wood. And he still had another twelve hours to go before he got to see Caitlyn. How would he make it?

  “We’re here,” he whispered to Lindsey. “Wake up.”

  Lindsey shifted, her arm straightening, her hand slipping between his thighs. He groaned in semi-hard misery and grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away from his lap.

  “We’re here?” She sat up straight and glanced around.

  “Yep, let’s go. I have to drop you off at the hotel before I get to go home.”

  Maybe he’d have a wet dream or something. Caitlyn couldn’t count that as cheating at the little game they were playing. He’d never hoped for a wet dream before, but any relief from this torture was welcome.

  Owen stood and helped Lindsey stand.

  “I’m so tired,�
�� she said, a bit on the whiny side in her obvious exhaustion. “Do I really have to check into a hotel tonight? Can’t I just crash on your couch?”

  Hmm, potentially willing female staying at his place when he was so horny he couldn’t walk fully upright? Yeah, not a good idea. He glanced at Jacob and Gabe for some backup, but Gabe’s attention was on Melanie, and Jacob was pretending very hard that he was alone on the shuttle.

  “I promise not to sneak into your bed and molest you while you’re sleeping,” she said.

  He shook his head, wondering if she realized how easy he was at the moment, and started toward the front of the bus, ignoring the way she was rubbing both hands over her belly.

  “I’m tired too,” Owen said, sounding almost as out of sorts as he felt. Yeah, celibacy was so not his thing. Well, he could be celibate as long as he could masturbate, but Caitlyn said he couldn’t do that either, and something about her telling him what to do made him gladly obey. She’d make it up to him. He had no doubt about that.

  “Do you think I want to deal with this right now?” he snapped. “I’d much rather be with Caitlyn than trying to figure out what to do with you.”

  He heard Lindsey sniff and turned around to see why she was suddenly lagging behind, wishing he hadn’t when he saw the tears welling up in her tired blue eyes. When she noticed him watching her, she turned her back and hugged herself. Guilt squeezed his insides. Yes, he was uncomfortably horny. Yes, he was exhausted. Yes, he was admittedly tired of being the only one looking out for Lindsey. But none of those things made it right to take out his frustration on her. She was struggling enough as it was. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, he put a hopefully comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

  “Fine. You can stay at my place tonight,” he said. “But don’t think it’s going to be a permanent situation.”

  “Thank you,” she said, giving him a weak one-armed hug. “I wouldn’t have even asked to stay, but I’m so exhausted.”

  That made two of them. His tiredness was probably the reason why he had so few alarm bells going off over Lindsey staying in his home. He shifted her in front of him and followed her toward the exit.

  “What time will Caitlyn be over tomorrow?” she asked. “I’ll be sure to be gone before she gets there.”

  He grabbed his bag and Lindsey’s from the shelves near the front of the shuttle, keeping an eye on her as she navigated the steps.

  He stepped off the bus onto the overwarm asphalt of the parking lot where his Jeep—and the vehicles of his bandmates—was parked. He sighed in relief. Almost home. His sanctuary.

  “Actually,” he said, shifting Lindsey’s bag onto his shoulder, “she’s not coming to my house.”

  “Oh?” Lindsey asked. “Is she still mad at you? It isn’t on my account, is it?”

  Probably, but not for the reason she thought. “No. We just changed our plans. I’m heading to Houston in the morning to see her for the weekend instead of her coming to me.”

  Coming? He really needed to do some of that as soon as fucking possible.

  “Oh . . . well . . .” Her smile wavered slightly as he gazed down at her beneath a humming streetlight. “That’s fine. I hope you have fun together.”

  “I’m sure we’ll have a lot of sex,” he said with a grin, but then felt bad when Lindsey glanced away. “The black Jeep Wrangler is mine. Over there.” He nodded toward his vehicle.

  He’d have offered his arm for balance, but he was overloaded with luggage, so he headed off, hoping she’d be able to keep up. He unlocked the Jeep, tossed their bags into the back, and climbed into the driver’s side. After a moment, Lindsey opened the passenger door and scrambled into her seat.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “Fine,” she said, but she didn’t look at him as she closed her door and fastened her seat belt.

  He started the Jeep and watched her for a moment as she intentionally avoided his gaze.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she said.

  “Look, Lindsey, I already told you I plan to keep seeing Caitlyn even if I did knock you up.”

  “I know that,” she said quietly.

  “Then why are you so upset about it?”

  “It isn’t that,” she said. “You’re ditching me in Austin, I get that. It’s just . . .” She glanced at him and wasn’t sporting the jealous look he’d been anticipating. Her eyes were wide with fear. “I don’t know anyone in Austin.”

  “You’ll be fine here,” Owen said. “People are real friendly. And I live in a great neighborhood.” Wait—why did that matter? She was only staying at his place for one night. Or until she could find her own place. Without any money. Shit, how did that work exactly?

  “So what do I tell people?” she asked. “When they ask about us?”

  “Us?’ he said under his breath.

  He floored the accelerator as he backed out of his parking spot so he didn’t have to give her disturbing question an immediate answer.

  She was still staring at him expectantly when he pulled out of the lot. “Uh, well, don’t tell them anything,” he said.

  “I think they’ll notice that I’m pregnant.”

  “So?”

  She rubbed at her forehead. “Never mind. I’m too tired to think about this right now. Just take me home.”

  Home? She was already calling it home? Shit.

  They had to drive only a few miles to his home. His body immediately relaxed when he pulled into his drive and parked his Jeep in his garage. His. Not hers.

  “Nice place,” she said. “What little I saw of it before you sped into the garage. Do you always drive like that?”

  “Like what?” he asked.

  “Like you’re trying to outrun the devil.”

  “Yes,” he said and climbed out.

  He collected their bags again and was grateful that Lindsey opened the door for him and then closed it behind them. She followed him along the short sidewalk to the back porch, up the steps, and into the small mudroom off the kitchen. He always left the mudroom light on when he was out of town. The glow made him feel like someone was waiting for him.

  “Do you want something to eat before you go to bed?”

  “I just want to sleep, thanks,” she said, glancing around the mudroom as if she’d just entered the Taj Mahal.

  His house was on the small side, but he liked the homey touches of the Craftsman-style cottage. He’d bought the place as the worst house in his parents’ neighborhood and spent most of his free time fixing it up. The house was almost complete now, and every square foot of the place had his stamp on it because he’d redone it all himself. From the refinished original floors and woodwork to the crown molding he’d pieced together over several years, this house was his. His, not hers. But she was his guest, and he would treat her as such.

  “You can take the guest bedroom upstairs,” he said, “but there’s only one bathroom up there, so we’ll have to share.”

  “Thanks for letting me stay,” she said with a friendly smile. “I will warn you that I’ll probably be up to pee at least ten times throughout the night.” She seemed to have relaxed a bit now that she was inside his house. He was proud that his home had that kind of effect on everyone who entered. He just hoped she didn’t get too attached to the place, because she was not staying for long. Was not.

  He switched on a light as they entered the kitchen through the mudroom. “If you do get hungry, help yourself to anything not past its expiration date.” He typically kept his kitchen well stocked and cooked regular meals, but when he was out on tour, sometimes his milk went bad or the bread molded.

  “Thanks.” She ran her finger along the light gray stone of the countertop as she took in the darker gray country-style cabinets and the farm sink that had been a total bitch to install. “You really are a sweetheart.”

  “And just the right amount of crazy and dangerous,” he said, thinking of Caitlyn. She was never far from
his thoughts. He wondered if she’d like his house as much as Lindsey seemed to. And also wondered what kind of house Caitlyn had. She was a well-off business owner. Would she have a modern loft in downtown Houston, a quaint townhouse near the city, or maybe something bigger out in the suburbs? He’d find out the next day. And the sooner he got to bed, the sooner the next day would arrive.

  He shut off the kitchen light as they entered the cozy dining room that had a table so small it only comfortably sat four.

  “It’s so cute,” she said. “I love it. Does your fireplace work?” she asked as she waddled into the living room.

  “It does now. I had to replace the chimney flue. It used to blow all the smoke back into the house.” He chuckled, recalling the first time he’d tried to light a relaxing fire and had ended up in the ER with smoke inhalation.

  “This is exactly the kind of house I’ve always pictured myself living in.”

  Warning, warning! his brain blared at him.

  “Raising a family in,” she added, rubbing her large belly with

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