Manipulated: a Rockstar Romantic Comedy (Hammered Book 3) (12 page)

Had she just used it on herself tonight?

Was she still wet from a tease of her own when I’d knocked on her door?

I wasn’t sure if I was more turned on about her getting off in the shower, or that I’d interrupted her.

Callie closed the front door. “Really?” she shouted. “Do you go out of your way to be an asshole or is that something special you do only when you’re around me?”

I flipped off the dials, then opened the bathroom door to lean against the jamb. “I don’t like being your dirty little secret.”

“You’re not, it’s just—” Her eyes widened. “Oh, my God.” She rushed forward and snatched her vibrator out of my hand. “Do you have no boundaries?”

“I was just going to offer to use it on you.” I grinned. “You can even tell me what you like. I’m an apt pupil.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“You’re the one who left it on the ledge in the bathroom.” I waggled my brows. “What if the maid had found it? Oh, the horrors.”

“I bought some new boots today. I can find one to beat you with.” She looked around. “My tripod is pretty sturdy.”

“I do love when you threaten me with bodily harm.”

She stalked over to her suitcase and tucked in her little magic purple wand of orgasms.

“Tell me, have you ever used one of those things with a man in the same room?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Well, I did just have my fingers inside your…feminine bits. I think it’s fair question.”

“No.”

“No, you haven’t, or…”

“Can we not talk about this?”

I moved toward her. “You’re not embarrassed.”

She crossed her arms. “Of course I’m embarrassed.”

I pulled them apart, trying desperately not to notice how sheer her top was. It wasn’t helping matters. Not when I now knew that she’d been already so on edge when I’d walked in the door.

She backed up. “Keys will be right back.”

I blew out a breath. “You know how to ruin a fine time, you know that?”

“Tell that to Keys.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“I would have if you didn’t close me off into the bathroom like your da just walked in on you with your boyfriend.”

“You’re not my boyfriend,” she tossed back at me.

“No.” I swallowed against how wrong that sounded.

She was right, there were no strings here. No personal things to get us all tied up. Just fun. Even if the mere idea of something less temporary didn’t scare me off as much as it should.

Focus on the vibrator and a rocking good orgasm, boyo.

“I didn’t mean—”

I held up my hand. “It’s fine. I understand. Besides, Keys has a way of getting people to do just what she wants anyway.”

She pushed at her hair. “I’m still trying to get to know you guys. I can’t really say no to an evening with a bunch of you.”

“It’s fine. Tell you what. I’ll meet you down at the common area, but do me a favor?”

“What?”

I moved into her space and swiped my fingertip down between her furrowed brows. “Don’t look so suspicious.”

“I’m suspicious by nature.”

“I don’t think that’s true, but I won’t fight you on it at the moment. Bring your camera with you. One that you can use for some night photography.”

“I don’t think we’d do well to recreate our first night.”

I grinned. “That’s true. No grotto where I’m taking you though.” I toyed with the ends of her damp hair. “Bring something warm though. Maybe dry this. As much as I liked the cool silk against my skin, it might be a little too cold for you.”

She tipped her head. “I should probably just go to bed.”

“You should really come out with me.”

“We have an early day tomorrow.”

She was trying desperately to backpedal her way out of spending more time with me. It only made me want her more.

I made my way to the door, but didn’t take my eyes off of her. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

She let out a shaky breath. Every now and then, she gave off little signals that her attitude was more bravado than anything else. “All right. I’ll meet you in the common area.”

“Perfect.”

“
Y
ou’re just a sore loser
.” Keys clapped then snatched the time piece off the low table.

“No, you’re a cheat.” I was sprawled in a chair across from Callie. I laced my fingers over my belly as I locked my gaze onto her. She kept shifting in her chair.

From my presence, and the fact that my fingers were inside of her a mere hour ago? Or because she wasn’t prepared for the level of unsportsmanlike behavior in the little quad we’d commandeered?

When it came to
Pictionary
and
Scattergories-
type games, there was a level of cheating that was just understood. We knew each other too well after ten years together.

It wasn’t so easy to be an outsider in our little group.

Bats was missing—shocker. He was gone more often than he participated in any group activity. By the time we found him most days, it was about ten minutes away from soundcheck or a show. This was our second leg of the tour, so the soundchecks were more of a formality.

Figure out what the arena sounded like, the quirks, and see if anything was going to blow up before showtime. The thing was, we couldn’t fault his playing. Reed’s playing was flawless. Actually, it was even better than that. It was the kind of playing that brought out critical reviews like—
There was a demon on stage, and his name was Reed Mason.

I was sick and tired of getting riled up about Bats and his personal issues with Victoria. I understood the distraction of a woman. Keys had been the one to make me crazy for the last year. I just wish it wasn’t Victoria who had him so distracted. She was poison, and a viper to boot.

But she wasn’t my problem right now.

No, my problem was a blond with a messy braid and legs long enough to make me contemplate stealing a sharpie to mark my territory. My signature would go nicely along her inner thigh.

Owen Blackwell was here.

Property of Owen Blackwell.

Well, not yet—but soon. So very fucking soon.

Could she hear my damn thoughts? Because her foot started bouncing as soon as I’d come up with the idea. I shifted on the club chair, opening my legs a little more to make room for the thickening annoyance in my jeans. I wasn’t some fourteen-year-old who popped a damn woody at the thought of a woman.

Evidently, only if that woman’s name was Calliope Templeton.

Fuck, even her name was hot.

“You gonna play, son? Or just ogle the new girl?”

I glanced over at Wyatt. His smug smile set my teeth on edge. I simply arched my brow. “Am I ogling you, bu—Callie?”

“Not sure what constitutes ogling.” Her foot stopped bouncing. “Nothing that makes me want to slug you, or whip out my mace.”

“See?” I played with the ring on my right hand.

“Because she likes it.” Wyatt stood. “And I’m done with drawing stick figures for the night.”

“Aww, come on.” Keys’ face dropped.

“Sorry, little one. I’ve got a date.”

“With who?”

“Angela? I think that’s her name.” Wyatt shrugged. “Pretty hostess at the restaurant across the street.”

“You chose a booty call over…never mind.” Keys dropped onto Quinn’s lap. “Lame.”

Quinn curled a possessive hand around her hip. “We can play checkers.”

She looked down at him, a slow smile forming. “Well, there’s some incentive.”

My gut clenched. Not as much as it used to. I was happy for her and there had never been anything between us. But I’d cultivated that want for a long time. I straightened up. No need to go down that winding and dead end street. “I’m going to take our new tour photographer out to see some of my favorite spots of Austin.”

Zach perked up from his near comatose state. “Can I come?”

No
.
No, you cannot bloody come
.

I hadn’t come yet, so he couldn’t use the word, even if his meaning was the edited for TV version. But the stark need on his face made me keep my own counsel.

Cock-blocked at every turn.

“Er…sorry. Was this a thing?” Zach dipped his hands into the pockets of his too big jeans. Zach was forever rumpled with ill-fitting clothes simply because he couldn’t be bothered to buy anything that wasn’t from his high school years. And he wasn’t a slightly soft through the middle teenager anymore. Running around on stage with Bats had cured him of that.

“No, of course not.” Callie popped up. “I don’t know where we’re going, but it requires my camera.” She hiked her bag over her shoulder and listed to the right.

Zach’s face transformed. “Awesome. Wait until you see Owen’s car. He’s forever finding cool old car shops in whatever area we’re in.”

Callie’s gaze locked on mine. “Is that so?”

“Hope you don’t mind the top down.” I quickly looked down at my belt for a second.
Behave, sir.
“Looks like it’s a party.”

Zach jogged to the front door of the hotel and held it open for Callie.

She walked through it and stopped just outside the threshold, throwing her head back as she took a deep breath. “I smell water.”

Sweet blue Christ. The tendrils that wouldn’t be bound in her braid fluttered in the night, and her curvy form was packed tight into dark-washed tight jeans and a filmy black shirt with sugar skulls all over it. She was wearing Chucks with a matching design. She had a quirky style that made me itch to touch her and curl her close to me.

Not smart, but the truth.

Maybe it would subside once I got her under me.

And maybe you’ll win a Grammy for lead vocals.

So not happening. I fished a pick out of my pocket, threading it through my fingers so I wouldn’t do something stupid.

She turned at the clicking sound, frown in place.

“What?” I paused, then palmed the pick automatically.

Callie’s head tilted, then she lowered her bag to the ground.
Here we go
. I could always spot her in artist mode. Something shifted in her eyes. They went sharp and focused, where my everyday bunny was usually all over the place.

This was Callie in full control.

She lifted out a camera and went down on one knee in front of me. “Do it again.”

Fuck
. “Not right now, love.”

I’d just gotten myself under control. I truly couldn’t handle her on her knees in front of me right now.

“Do you always use a steel pick?” She brought her camera up and took a few shots before fussing with her settings. “Or is just the one you have in your pocket with you?”

I had something in my pocket for her, but it wasn’t the damn pick.

“I play guitar and bass. A pick is always on me.”

“Well, yeah I understand that, but not everyone uses a steel one.”

“Because he’s particular.” Zach dug into his pocket and came out with three plastic picks, a bone one that he used sometimes, and a few quarters that did the job in a pinch.

“Huh.” Callie quickly took pictures of Zach’s palm.

“You want me to get rid of the lint first?” he asked with a grin.

“No, it’s cooler with it.” She whipped around her camera and showed him. “See?”

Zach leaned in closer to look at the viewfinder. “Jesus.” He looked back down at his hand. “Really? You got all that from
this
?”

She shrugged. “You’d be surprised what my lens picks up. Besides,” she stood up, “this is my micro-focus camera. I once perched on a rock for three hours to catch the perfect lighting for wildflowers for the Wildlife Preserve.”

Zach tipped back on his heels. “Talk about dedication.”

Callie shrugged. “You can play guitar for hours, right?”

“True.”

“Not much different.” She turned back to me. “For the most part.” She moved closer, angling downward until her camera hovered over my fingers. She danced her fingertips over my tattoo and the chunky skull ring I wore on my ring finger. “I love that ring.”

“I know.”

Her gaze shot to mine and locked. “I have a thing for skulls.”

My grin widened. “I remember.”

She cleared her throat, then touched her camera back in her bag. “Where are we going anyway?”

“It’s not as quite as impressive this time of year, but I thought you’d enjoy this place.”

Zach grinned. “I know where you’re taking her. Yeah, man. Summertime. Definitely gotta get her here in the summer. She’ll just die.”

“I will?” She shouldered her bag again.

Zach beelined for my ride. I’d parked it away from the main doors of the hotel and under a tree. The top was down, and the green Buick Wildcat gleamed in the dark.

“That’s your car?” Callie spun around, walking backward.

“Yes.”

“And we have company.”

My voice lowered to a growl. “Yes.”

“That’s so wrong.” She swung back around and jogged after Zach.

I wasn’t sure if she was referring to the same thing as I was, but she was right. It was so damn wrong.

Zach jumped in the back of the car.

“Actually, would it be okay if I got back there?” Callie nibbled on her thumbnail. “I’d like to get some shots.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. I just thought I’d be gentlemanly and shit.” Zach hopped out, but opened the door for Callie and flipped the seat forward for her to get into the back.

I got into the driver’s seat and revved the engine loud enough to make her eyes widen. I met her gaze in the rearview mirror and revved it one more time. She pressed her lips together, but couldn’t stop a little twist of a smile at the corner of her burgundy lips.

Damn, those lips would good wrapped around my cock.

And I needed to halt that line of thinking. No need to have a hard-on with my mate next to me.

We drove through the city. Callie shifted from left to right, her camera clicking behind me. The shutter sound was oddly comforting and at the same time it ramped me up. The deeper we got into the city, and the closer we got to the bridge, the more she kept popping up on her seat.

“If you don’t sit down, I’m going to tan your hide, bunny.”

Zach glanced from me to her, then back again. “Dad voice.”

I was not having fatherly thoughts, but damn if I didn’t sound like my da.

She bounced and swapped cameras again. “I know. Sorry, sorry. There’s just so much to see. I’ve never been here before. Barely anywhere actually.” She set her camera carefully on the seat, then held her arms out wide as the wind took her braid. I looked away just long enough to jolt as she suddenly sat forward and stretched her arms between the front seats. “Say cheese.”

I gave her a side-eyed glare.

She just laughed and changed her focus to Zach. He was more than willing to ham it up.

It was nice to hear Zach laugh again. He was the other half of the Terror Twins in our group, and his partner in crime was far too absent these days.

I pulled off when I saw signs for the Austin American-Statesman building. Luckily for me, my co-pilot and backseat badass were not paying enough attention to realize our destination.

I rolled around to a side street and avoided the usual tourist haunts. It was off-season, but there were still people who wanted to see the famous Bat Bridge—otherwise known as Congress Street Bridge. We rolled to a stop along the overgrown trees at the bank of the waterway. Fuck, if I could remember the name of it. I was almost as much of a tourist as Callie.

We didn’t get much chance to play as people thought. We were usually in and out within the same day. We just happened to be in town for two shows this particular stop.

Callie hopped out of the car before Zach or I could open our doors. I shook my head and set the brake, laughing as one of her shoes came flying back up into the beams of my headlights, then dropped to the grass in front of the car.

“She like this all the time?”

“We met her at the same time.”

“Right.” Zach eased back in his seat and turned toward me. “You’re a good friend.”

“I like to think so.”

“Nah, I get it.” He pointed his chin toward the water where Callie was already in up to her knees. “You’re into her. And I am third-wheeling it hardcore.”

“No.”

“Can’t even lie convincingly.” Zach waved it off. “It’s fine. I really just wanted to get into town. I’ll Uber it back to the hotel. Sixth Street has a bunch of bands playing tonight.”

My heart gave a kick. I didn’t want to dump my friend off in the middle of nowhere. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, definitely. Besides, if I had that hot bit of gorgeous at all interested in me I wouldn’t have been so generous, bud.” Zach threw open the door, then slammed it. “And if you’re smart, you’ll make sure no one else has the chance.”

My eyes narrowed. “No one will.”

Zach’s grin tipped into a broad smile. “Yeah, I’m thinking you’re right.” He saluted me. “Good luck.”

Uncomfortable with the idea that everyone could figure us out this quickly, I cleared my throat. “I, uh—”

“Nah. Don’t sweat it, O. It’s our secret for now. No trash-talk. Besides, she’s too sweet.”

“Good. Thanks.”

He loped off toward the lights on the bridge and monkeyed his way up the rail that blocked cars off from driving straight down.

I got out and followed the sound of splashing. She’d thrown on a bright red jacket that the lights under the bridge caught and reflected against. There was just enough moon out to create a beacon for me anyway. Her hair was almost white-blond in the dark.

She’d quickly gone for the rocks instead of the riverbed. I couldn’t blame her. One, because I knew just how many bats were housed under the bridge. And that meant a whole lot of guano. It was off-season, so the stench was gone and the winter had taken care of most of it.

But I know I wouldn’t be making my way through that murky water.

Seemed as if she had the same idea. She was barefoot on a large rock, taking pictures.

“We should come back here in August.”

She turned carefully, her camera cupped in her two hands. “The view is amazing now.”

“You should see it when the bats take flight around nine in the evening.”

“Bats?” Her voice rose and laughter bubbled out of her. “Are you kidding?” She leaped back onto the embankment.

I was actually surprised. She seemed like she was a bit of a catastrophe waiting to happen sometimes. Then again, she held her camera. The damn thing was magic in her hands. Both in the talent that came out of it—I’d seen the spread online for
Music Life
—and the confidence that it gave her.