He gripped the handle above the window tighter as she did a U-turn at the next intersection and gunned the engine again. He’d have never taken her for the kind of woman who drove a muscle car—he’d have placed her in something a bit more practical, like a Volvo—but he had to admit that she looked hot behind the wheel of her brand new yellow Camaro. She’d called it her divorcee ego-recovery car when she’d insisted on driving to the sex club.
The small Italian restaurant they went to was not one he’d expect her to frequent. After seeing her house—he could have fit four or five of his little cottage inside her giant McMansion—he assumed she dined at five-star restaurants and had been ashamed that he’d taken her to some greasy-spoon diner on their first date. This little hole in the wall didn’t even have a lit sign out front, and they’d had to park on the street. The tables were crammed into the small space so close that their hippy hostess had to walk sideways to seat them.
“I haven’t been here in years,” Caitlyn said, scouring her menu.
Ah, so she didn’t frequent this place.
“Charles says it’s too claustrophobic.”
Owen could see the man’s point as he accidentally elbowed a perfect stranger at the next table. “Sorry,” he said, rubbing the woman’s arm to undo any damage.
“It’s okay,” she said with a friendly smile.
Owen liked the place already.
“You have to try the portabella tortellini,” Caitlyn said. “Do you like mushrooms?”
“They’re okay. I prefer pastrami.”
Caitlyn laughed and smacked at him with her menu. “Is prosciutto a good enough substitute?”
“I suppose.” He actually loved prosciutto and was surprised she understood his tastes enough to suggest it.
They ordered and after finishing their tangy Caesar salads, they munched on chewy slices of warm bread with creamy butter while they waited for their entrees. Owen was already in food heaven.
“So what else do you like to do that ol’ Charlie hates?” Owen asked, happy to be a part of Caitlyn finding herself again.
She laughed and buttered the last piece of bread, tearing it in half and offering him a section. “First and foremost, he loathes being called Charlie.”
Then that was exactly what Owen would call him from now on.
“Let’s see. Backgammon. He hates to lose, and I always win.”
“Unless you’re playing Gabe,” Owen reminded her. She and the band’s drummer had engaged in several serious battles, and Caitlyn had managed to claim only one victory against the master.
“Oh jeez, I’d forgotten Gabe had skunked me.” She bit into her bread. “Charles also hates science museums.”
Owen didn’t think any museum would be much fun, but he’d thought the same about musical theater until Caitlyn had shown him otherwise.
“He could spend all day in the library, though. We both enjoy reading. Different tastes in books, but we often sat quietly and read for hours.”
“Are you sure you weren’t married to Gabe?” Owen said, seeing many parallels between his friend and her ex.
“I think I would have remembered that. Especially the crimson-red Mohawk and scalp tattoos.”
He laughed, and she reached over to squeeze his hand. “And what do you like to do in your spare time?” she asked.
Was she trying to get to know him more personally? Score! “Besides music?”
“Do you attend a lot of concerts when you aren’t performing?”
“Kelly and I like to scope out unknown talent in Austin. There’s an amazing music scene there, so that’s always fun. We spend a lot of time at the gym so I can still eat the foods I love. Especially carbs.” He licked his finger to pick up a stray crumb off the empty bread plate and put it on his tongue. He hoped their pasta arrived soon. “And he makes me go kayaking.” Which wasn’t his favorite activity—he’d much rather take an exciting ride in Gabe’s speedboat followed by some relaxing fishing on the lake—but if Kelly was happy paddling around with his legs jammed inside a claustrophobic boat, then Owen was happy to follow him around.
“And you make Kellen go to sex clubs.”
When she put it that way, it sounded pretty douche-y. “Yeah.”
Their food arrived, and Owen was in taste-bud bliss as he devoured his prosciutto, peas, and cream sauce over perfectly al dente fettuccini. Caitlyn offered him a bite of her portabella tortellini, and it was equally delicious. As they ate, he made her laugh with stories about touring with his band. He couldn’t get enough of the delightful sound and was glad he could bring her joy. After finishing their entrees, they fed each other bites of the most incredible tiramisu he’d ever tasted. He was going to have to hit the gym extra hard for the next few days, but, damn, was the meal worth it.
“Do you think you have one more fantasy in you tonight?” she asked as she insisted on paying the check.
“You should have asked before I gorged myself on carbs.” He produced a large yawn for effect.
“I’ve always wanted to make love beneath the stars,” she said. “I set up a spot in my backyard if you’re game. If not—”
He caught her hand and brought her knuckles to his lips. He stared deeply into her eyes and used his most seductive voice as he said, “My pants are already around my knees.”
Chapter Eleven
Caitlyn took Owen’s hand and led him out to the backyard. The gentle lap of the bay water against the bulkhead hidden by the inky darkness provided a rhythmic backdrop to the chorus of squalling cicadas and chirping crickets. She’d had a great time with Owen that night, first at the sex club, then at the theater, and finally at dinner, and though making love under the stars really was on her list of fantasies, she wanted this encounter to be more about him than it was about her.
She pushed aside the mosquito netting that kept biting critters from entering the glass gazebo while allowing a cool onshore breeze to blow through. She didn’t light the torches, but there was enough moonlight to make out the creamy white sheet draped over the pillows she’d pulled from the dark wicker sofa, loveseat, and various lounge chairs. They wouldn’t exactly be roughing it, but they’d be able to see the stars through the glass ceiling and almost feel one with nature without having to deal with the bugs.
“Someone has been planning again,” Owen commented as he stepped onto the low deck inside the gazebo.
“Expect the best, plan for the better,” she said, kicking off her shoes and pulling her blouse over her head.
“I’m not sure that’s how the saying goes,” he said, reaching for the hem of his shirt. She caught his hands.
“Allow me,” she murmured, bending forward so she could kiss his belly and chest as she removed his shirt.
He helped her pull off the rest of her clothes, and then she grabbed a pillow for her knees before she knelt at his feet. She planned to be there for a while. He stared down at her as she unfastened his pants and slowly slid them over the tight curve of his perfect ass. “Now your pants are at your knees,” she murmured before licking his cock until it danced to life.
“You’re so beautiful.” His hand lightly stroked her hair from her face.
“Do you know any constellations?” she asked.
“Does it matter?”
“Look up at the stars, Owen.” She kissed the head of his now fully erect cock. “Let me take you to them.”
He tilted his head back, and she licked and sucked at his tip, loving the way the metal balls in his piercing felt against her lips and tongue.
“Don’t close your eyes.” She sucked him into her mouth and, after taking a deep breath through her nose, drew him into her throat.
He shuddered and released a breathy moan. She caressed his smooth ass with both palms as she slowly pulled back and then took him deep again. r />
“So beautiful,” he whispered to the sky, and she wasn’t sure if he was speaking of her or the sea of sparkling stars above.
His breath quickened, and he tangled his fingers in her hair, meeting her movement with gentle thrusts of his hips. With a tormented groan, he pulled out and urged her to her feet. She blinked at him, wondering if he wasn’t enjoying something as ordinary as oral pleasure after spending an evening in a sex club. Fingers tangled in her hair, he moved his hands forward to cup her face.
“I want this to last,” he said and leaned in to claim her lips.
Make what last? His erection? This perfect night? Their potential forever? She wasn’t sure what he expected from their time together—hell, she wasn’t sure what she expected anymore—but she didn’t resist when he lifted her and carried her to the nest of cushions. Instead, she cupped his face as he held her and kissed him back with an unguarded heart as he gently laid her down.
His touch, his kisses, his tender nibbles were unhurried as he explored her body. When she remembered to open her eyes, she stared up at the stars, but mostly she let her eyes drift shut and just felt him. Owen. She felt him everywhere, not only against her skin. And when he claimed her at last, she felt him even deeper. Not just where their bodies were joined but inside her heart, her soul, the parts of her she kept carefully hidden. She felt him. Owen.