skin. She was gorgeous.
“Of course I want to be there for you.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said, but of course she thought that with the stupid way he’d worded his statement. He didn’t usually have a problem expressing himself, but this woman had him uncharacteristically out of his head. The last woman who’d made him all topsy-turvy was Sara, and though he was ready to leave her in the past, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to give himself over to the same set of emotions again. Was it wise to free himself only to tie himself to another?
He rephrased his attempt to let Dawn off the hook. “I wouldn’t mind your support, but I can do this on my own if you have better things to do.” Definitely better.
She lifted her eyebrows at him. Okay, so not better.
“What I’m trying to say—”
She silenced him by covering his mouth with her fingertips. “I get it. You’d like my support, but don’t want to actually ask for it.”
That was closer to what he’d been trying to say, but still not exactly right. He didn’t want his time with Dawn to be intruded upon by memories of Sara, but until he truly laid his departed fiancée to rest, she’d always be there just beneath the surface, waiting to twist him into knots.
He took Dawn’s hand from his mouth and pressed it against his chest over his heart. “I can put Sara’s memories in the mental box I normally keep them in and try to ignore them like usual. If I do that, I swear we can have an enjoyable weekend together. Or I can include you in the mess of trying to sort us out—me and Sara. I’ve tried so many times to do this in the past—alone—and thus far I’ve always failed, but you’ve given me a great reason to move forward. Maybe this time will be different. Either way—”
“We’re going to Galveston,” Dawn said.
“And stay at Sara’s house?” Kellen asked, thinking he might actually be able to stand being in that sunny, yellow beach house with Dawn beside him.
Dawn shook her head. “It’s not Sara’s house, it’s your house.”
“But I bought it for her.”
“And maybe you should sell it for you.”
She was probably right, but he couldn’t do that. Not when a big part of him still wanted to hold on to Sara. That house and its contents were all he had left of her, of them. And he didn’t want to forget her or the time they’d spent together. But maybe if he dealt with his sorrow and the guilt that ate him alive, he could figure out how to move on. Something had to change; he was miserable. He’d been miserable for a long time. He just hadn’t realized it until Dawn played her way under his skin and into his heart.
“Do you want to stay here in New Orleans tonight or leave for Galveston right away?” he asked.
With the exception of Adam, the rest of the band had cleared out of New Orleans so they could catch a plane back to Austin for their weekend off. Kellen was admittedly tired after the performance, and it was at least a six-hour drive to the island, but they could get a head start if they left right away.
“Don’t you still have that lovely suite in the hotel that’s going to waste?” she asked.
“Yeah. The band rented that whole block of rooms for the weekend, and Adam is the only one putting his to good use.” And Kellen was sure that with Madison there for the weekend, Adam was putting that room to very good use.
“So let’s stay here tonight and leave in the morning. We can grab a late dinner and have some fun on Bourbon Street. I never managed to reach my friends, but we can venture out on our own.”
That sounded like a frivolous start to what was sure to be an emotionally trying weekend. Maybe they’d decide to play in New Orleans the entire time. That option would keep things light and entertaining, the way a budding relationship should be.
“Great plan,” Kellen said.
He called for a cab since neither of them wanted the attention that came with taking the limo. He wasn’t sure it had returned from dropping the guys—and Lindsey—at the airstrip anyway.
“Any idea where you want to go?” Kellen asked, checking an app on his phone for suggestions as they waited for their ride. “There’s never a lack of activities in New Orleans. And you did promise to play me that jazz song.” Though he couldn’t for the life of him remember the title of it. Something about a train.
“I’m surprised you remembered, but yeah, I’ll play you a tune. Have you ever been to the Carousel Bar?”
“Never heard of it,” he admitted. Owen usually picked the spots to visit when they were on tour, and he always chose sex clubs, so those were the only places Kellen knew about in the cities he’d visited. Kellen didn’t even want to suggest something like an evening at a sex club to a sophisticated woman like Dawn.
“It’s in the Monteleone Hotel on Bourbon Street in the French Quarter. You’ll love it.”
He had heard of Bourbon Street and the French Quarter—they’d been in that general area earlier that day—but he wasn’t familiar with the Mont-whatever Hotel. “I’m game,” he said. “Do I have to wear a shirt?”
She laughed and placed a kiss on his chest, her fingers tracing the outlines of the many tattoos that decorated his skin. “I prefer you like this, but if we want service, you’ll have to hide this man candy from view.”
“Man candy?” Kellen was used to Owen being the man candy when he went out. Kellen served as his wing man, and he wasn’t sure he wanted Owen’s role. He’d much rather be admired for his ideals, interests, and talents than for his body. But maybe Dawn could appreciate him for all those qualities and his body too.
“Candy delicious enough to lick,” Dawn said, her tongue sliding over one pec, which flexed involuntarily beneath her exploration.
He enjoyed her touching him—he couldn’t deny that—but he still didn’t feel comfortable under her attention. Especially when he didn’t have ropes binding her gorgeous body. He had no problem doting on her; admittedly, he’d been doing that all day. But when they were alone together and their making out progressed to making love, he had to tie her up before he could fuck her properly. He needed time to reflect on that need, and he sure couldn’t do that with her beguiling mouth on his flesh.
He took her by the shoulders, not to push her away or to draw her closer, but to encourage her to stay right where she was—neither too far, nor too close. He wondered if she really understood what she’d gotten herself into when she’d sought him out and pledged to give their relationship a try. He already knew opening his heart to a new woman would not be easy for him, and by extension, it would be challenging for Dawn as well.
“We’ll have to stop by the hotel before we go out,” he said. “All of my clothes are there.”
“Perhaps,” she said, her lips sucking kisses along his chest, “we should just stay in.”
“Or we could savor each other’s company outside the bedroom.” Where ropes weren’t required.
Her head tilted, her pretty eyes searching his face. “If you were any other man, I’d take that as a stinging rejection.”
He’d done the same to her the night before. He hoped he didn’t make her feel unwanted. She was definitely wanted. He was the problem, not her.
“I’m not rejecting you. I’d very much like to tie you into little knots both inside and out and then deep, deep inside.”
She shivered beneath his fingertips, and he felt the pull of her body on his in the primal place he’d kept locked tight until she’d smashed it open the night they’d met.
“But . . .” She encouraged him to continue.
“But if we start with outside knots and move to those deep inside knots, which is what will happen if we’re alone together in my hotel room, we’ll be skipping that first step.”
“And how does that first step work?”
He lifted his brows at her. “Tying you in knots on the inside?”
She nodded, a smile on her lush lips.
“I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
He held her hand in the cab to the hotel
, his thumb rubbing the pulse point in her wrist.
“I enjoyed the concert,” Dawn said. “Even though I saw your show just last night, it still feels new and exciting.”
“Do you often go to the orchestra?”
She smiled and ducked her head. “I often am the orchestra. I do quite a few solo concerts.”
“So you don’t just compose, you perform? Professionally?” He realized he knew very little about her day-to-day activities. He’d met her when she’d been hiding from the world in a beach house and searching for her muse. He was glad she’d found inspiration in him, but he had no idea what her real life was like.
“I go back and forth,” she said. “Sometimes the music comes pouring out of my soul—that’s when I compose—and sometimes it pours from my heart—that’s when I perform.”
“I’d like to watch you perform sometime.”
“I was able to drool over you onstage last night and tonight, so I suppose it’s only fair that you get to do the same. I’ll check my calendar and see what I have coming up. I think I have an event next week in Prague.” She scrunched her brows together and tilted her head slightly. “Or maybe it’s Rome next week and Prague the following week. Or is it Warsaw?” She chewed on her lip, her features tense with concentration.
Kellen tried not to look too astonished, but he was most likely failing at that. “You perform overseas?”
Dawn shrugged. “Quite a bit, actually. At least when I’m not on a deadline for some composition. There’s a different appreciation for classical music in Europe. Its roots are there, if that makes sense. It’s like how Nashville is immersed in country music and New Orleans in jazz; Prague is all about classical. You’ll have to come with me sometime when you’re not on tour and experience it for yourself.”
“Now, that would be cool.” And not something he’d ever thought to do on his own. This woman could broaden his horizons far more than he could broaden hers.
“We’re here.” She leaned close to the window and peered up at the tall hotel.
Already? Kellen hadn’t even noticed the taxi had stopped. The door was opened by a helpful valet, and the tidy older gentleman offered a hand to Dawn. She thanked him graciously, and Kellen scrambled out after her. She linked her arm through Kellen’s and placed a hand on his bare belly, which instantly began to quiver beneath her light touch.
Maybe they should stay in after all. He did have more rope in his luggage—a soft and supple length in a muted sage green and a coarser coil of red that would likely leave marks on her pale, freckled skin. He’d take his time with each knot this time. He could already picture her as a bound work of art, so beautiful he’d have no choice to but to eat her sweet pussy until she came and came and he unleashed his cock and plunged—
“I don’t think Owen likes me much,” Dawn said, drawing Kellen out of his fantasy so quickly that he groaned aloud.
“What makes you say that?”
Kellen had noticed Owen trying to draw his attention from Dawn most of the day. Like Kellen would want to experience Owen’s ordinary when he had the extraordinary at his side. He could see Owen any time. Owen without Lindsey in tow. Dawn would be going back to L.A. soon, or to Rome or Prague or someplace equally less Texas. She’d said so herself.
“Just a vibe he was giving off,” she said.
“It’s Lindsey. He’ll be less weird once he rids himself of her.”
“Isn’t he kind of stuck with her for life? Or at least the next twenty years or so?”
Kellen’s stomach plummeted. “Don’t say that.” They ventured toward the elevator since he still had his keycard from earlier.
“Do you always have such a hard time accepting reality?” she asked and then bit her lip. “I’m sorry. Sometimes my tongue gets away from me. I didn’t mean to just blurt that out.”
“No, you’re right. Sara is gone and will never be replaced. Owen’s gotten a girl in trouble”—maybe—“which comes with lifelong responsibility. I’m with a beautiful, intelligent woman who will soon discover I’m not worth the headaches I cause her.”
“That last part is definitely not reality,” she said.
He grinned. “Hey, I’m trying here.”
In their suite, he found a plain white V-necked T-shirt in his luggage and pulled it on. The fabric felt stifling and restrictive against his chest and back. He immediately wanted to take the shirt off again. He’d just opened his mouth to tell Dawn that they should stay in after all when she stepped out of the bathroom in an elegant black dress. He blinked at her, trying to remember how to make his mouth function as his gaze journeyed from her simple up-do that showed off the length of her slender neck down the curve of cleavage hinted at by the low-cut bodice of her gown and along the narrowing of her trim waist, the slight flare of her hips, the long length of her shapely leg, and to the slender ankle and spike-heeled shoes that made his toes curl in appreciation. And then his lucky eyes took the reverse journey back to her face.
“You just happened to have that dress in your luggage,” Kellen said when he found his tongue.
She ran her hands over the silky fabric that clung to her devastatingly gorgeous body. “All the clothes I have with me are like this. You don’t like it? Should I change?”
“What? Hell no. You’re the most stunning woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He frowned down at his jeans and T-shirt before meeting her gaze again. “I just feel a bit underdressed.”
She grinned. “You look overdressed to me. I’ve become accustomed to ogling your shirtless chest, belly, back, shoulders, arms.” Each word came out a bit slower than the last as she eyed each part she listed.
She licked her lips, and his gaze was drawn to the small bumps at the tips of her breasts. He had a sudden, powerful urge to draw those hardened nipples into his mouth and slide his hands up the backs of her thighs. But that would be entirely inappropriate. Unrestrained.
“Maybe we should stop at a hardware store on the way back,” he murmured. “Pick up some rope.”
“Only if I get to tie you up this time,” she said.
He grinned. He liked the sound of that.
As she stood on the elevator clutching her small purse, he couldn’t help but stare at the lovely length of bare leg showing along the slit up her thigh. She looked far too classy and sophisticated in her form-hugging black dress to be hanging out with the likes of him.
It turned out that the Carousel Bar was built on an actual carousel. It even spun slowly in a circle. Kellen had to wonder if the bartender at the center suffered from vertigo. Every chair along the rotating bar was occupied, so Kellen stretched to look over the crowd for a table on the unmoving part of the floor.
“Dawn O’Reilly?” a woman’s voice carried over the crowd. “Shut the fuck up! Why didn’t you tell me you were in town?”
Beside him, Dawn sucked in a breath. Before Kellen could even blink, Dawn was being drawn into an exuberant hug by a young woman and then being shaken back and forth to make sure the hug stuck. Or broke Dawn’s back; Kellen couldn’t tell which.
“Come sit with us,” the excited stranger said. “We have a great table by the piano.”
“Great. Is there a performance tonight?” Dawn asked.
“There’s a performance every night. You know that.” The woman finally focused her gaze on Kellen. “Is this guy with you? I thought you swore off dating.”
“I swore back on the moment I laid eyes on him.”
The still-unnamed woman laughed. Her enormous Afro of loose curls made her pretty features look uncommonly petite. “Can’t blame you there. But Jimmy will be heartbroken. You told him you were gay.”
“So he’d leave me alone.” Dawn cringed. “He’s not here, is he?”
“Nope. He wanted to be a homebody tonight. If I text him and let him know you’re here, I’m sure he’ll put on pants to come see you.”
“I’d rather you didn’t. I’m sure Kellen is already uncomfortable enough without Jimmy wishing him dead.”
“You didn’t tell him about me and Jimmy?” Dawn’s friend asked, a dark scowl on her face.
“I don’t like to dwell on my failures.”
The woman rolled her eyes. “Since Dawn has forgotten her manners, I’ll introduce myself,” she said. “I’m Chantel. We were roommates for a year. We had a little jazz band together with Jimmy Zeta for a while. We lived on macaroni and cheese and cheap wine.” She lifted a hand to her temple and sighed. “Yet she never calls anymore.”
“I called you this afternoon. Your number was disconnected.”
Chantel waved a hand. “I didn’t have phone service for a while. Too broke to pay for it. I’ve got a prepaid el cheapo phone now. Doesn’t break the bank.”
“I’m Kellen.” He introduced himself when he found a narrow opening.
Chantel looped her arm through his and began directing him toward the area near a large grand piano. “You’re a musician, aren’t you?”
“Why do you say that?” Not that he was denying it. He just wondered how she could know.
“Kindred spirit. Dawn and I are about as different as we can be,” Chantel said. She paused to twist toward Dawn, who’d fallen in step behind them. “I mean, will you look at her? She looks like a movie star.”
Oh yeah, he couldn’t help but notice all the heads turning to
Treasure Me Page 5
