One Night with Sole Regret 01 Try Me (8 page)

“Is something wrong?” she asked, pushing the covers
down to look at him.

He glanced up at her sheepishly. He hadn’t meant to
stop pleasuring her. Sometimes he thought too much with his big
head, when he’d be better off just going with the instincts of his
little head. Maybe she’d be willing to try a relationship. He’d
never know until he asked. Or maybe he should start with something
a little less confining.

“I was just thinking.”

“Ah,” she said. “You were so turned on by my body
that you started thinking.”

Was she teasing? He couldn’t tell. “I was thinking
about us, actually.”

“Us?”

“I like you, Mel. I thought maybe we could stay in
contact. Keep seeing each other when we can. Maybe try to make a go
of it.”

“You mean, like a relationship?”

“If you don’t want—”

She covered his lips with two fingers. “I like you
too, Gabe. I just didn’t think anything lasting would come from
this. Continuing what we’ve started here is much more than I
bargained for.”

“Oh.”

She smiled. “But I’m glad you’re opening up that
possibility.”

He couldn’t help but smile in return. “You are?”

“Yeah. Sometimes you just know that you’re
compatible with someone.”

“Would you have discovered that if you’d known who I
was when you first started talking to me?”

“Probably not,” she admitted. “And I would have
missed out on getting to know a fascinating and complex man.”

“Not to mention having two fantastic orgasms.”

She laughed. “Well yeah, that too.”

“Want to go for three this time?”

“I don’t think—”

He moved his hand to cover her lips with two
fingers. “I do.”

He eyed his suitcase, wondering if he should treat
her to one of the inventions he had stowed inside.

Her stomach rumbled again, and he paused. Maybe
there were more important physical needs than sinking into her
tight little body. He honestly couldn’t think of any.

“Gabe, can we eat first? Also, I need to go to the
bathroom and brush my teeth. I feel gross.”

“There is nothing gross about you.”

“I can’t relax. At least let me pee.”

He sighed. “Okay. I’ll wait. I won’t like it, but
I’ll wait. Might as well go get some breakfast. You’re going to
need your strength.”

Chapter 8

Melanie wasn’t sure why meeting the band made her
body quake with nerves. She’d spent the night with their drummer;
she couldn’t imagine the rest of the guys would be much more
intimidating than a man with a black and red mohawk and tattoos on
his scalp. Sure, Gabe and his comrades looked like a group of
thugs, but thanks to Gabe, she’d let her guard down and discovered
that he wasn’t so different from the regular Joes she usually
dated. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Gabe was far sexier. Far
more interesting. Far more tender. Loving. Wonderful. And the man
knew how to rock a mattress.

“We could have breakfast in bed,” Gabe said near her
ear. “There’s still time to turn back.”

“I’m cool,” she lied.

As the hostess directed them into a private dining
room, Melanie prayed Nikki was already at the table for backup. No
such luck.

Three members of the band and two other guys were
seated in one of four enormous booths in the room. There were
dozens of additional square tables and chairs, each with neat white
table cloths, forest green napkins, and silver-trimmed place
settings. Even if the entire crew joined them, they wouldn’t need
this much space. A dance floor took up the far half of the room.
She was pretty sure the place was used for wedding receptions.
Melanie wondered if the hotel staff kept the rockers separate from
the main dining room so people didn’t trample them as they tried to
get autographs or because said rockers were so noisy that they were
sure to disturb the other, more conservative, hotel guests. Perhaps
a little of both.

“Do you want to sit with them or on our own?” Gabe
asked, nodding toward the occupied booth.

“We can sit with them.” She wanted to prove to
herself that the rest of his band didn’t make her a nervous
wreck.

So far, not so good. Her stomach was working on a
new gymnastics routine.

Gabe rested a hand against her lower back as they
stopped next to the table. “Did you already order?” he asked the
guys.

“Not for you,” one member of Sole Regret said.

He had a shaggy, spiked arrangement of jet black
hair that went quite well with his all-black attire. Melanie knew
he was the lead guitarist, but could not for the life of her
remember his name. His steel-gray eyes swept over Melanie’s rumpled
clothes and tangled hair before settling on her face. “Your sexy
sweetheart can sit next to me.” He scooted over in the booth and
patted the seat beside him. Melanie hesitated before sliding in
next to him.

Gabe sat on her opposite side, and she had to shift
closer to the guitarist. He wore enough chains to tow a truck. His
spicy aftershave had her wanting to bury her face against his neck
and inhale repeatedly.

“Aren’t you going to introduce her?” the guitarist
asked.

“Melanie,” Gabe said flatly.

She glanced at Gabe and found him examining a menu.
He seemed to have lost all interest in her. Why? Was she not cool
enough to hang out with his rock-star buddies?

She turned her attention to the guitarist. “Hi,” she
said, “you would be . . . ”

He laughed and slid a hand over his face. “Where in
the hell did you find this one, Force? I didn’t think there was a
woman under sixty who didn’t know my name.”

Another rock-star type reached across the table to
shake her hand. “I’m Owen,” he said. “Don’t judge the rest of us by
Adam’s giant ego.”

“You play bass,” Melanie said, as if she were on a
quiz show and was pretty sure she was going home empty-handed.

He nodded. “That’s right.”

He had the prettiest blue eyes she’d ever seen. And
the bone structure of a movie star. And the tattoos and face
piercings of a side-show act.

“Most people know him as Tags,” the ego named Adam
informed her.

She vaguely remembered Nikki telling her that the
band’s pretty boy went by the nickname Tags. Though in all honesty,
it was hard for her to look past the tough-guy accessories to the
gorgeous face beneath. She was working on it. Her heart rate had
almost returned to normal. She had almost convinced herself that
she had nothing to fear from these guys.

“Do you prefer to be called Tags or Owen?” she
asked, noticing the beat-up set of military dog tags on a slender
chain around his neck. Was that how he’d picked up the nickname?
She was much too intimidated to ask.

“He’ll answer to anything,” the other guitarist in
the group said. He grinned at Owen and then turned his attention to
Melanie. “Cuff,” he said, shaking her hand. He was wearing a thick
cuff on one wrist that looked like something out of a bondage
convention. “Or Kellen,” he added.

“Kelly,” Owen corrected. He grinned as if he was in
possession of some guarded secret. Again, Melanie was much too
intimidated to pry.

“Chicks don’t like the name Kelly,” Kelly said. “I
told you to start calling me Kellen in front of the ladies or just
stick with Cuff.”

“But she’s with Gabe,” Owen reminded him. “You don’t
have to impress her.”

Melanie wasn’t sure how anyone could tell she was
with Gabe. He’d started ignoring her the instant they’d sat
down.

“I like the name Kelly for a guy,” she said.

Kelly had long, brown hair and a raw sensuality that
seemed to reach across the table and grab her by the womb. She
definitely remembered him playing on stage the night before. And
poking fun at Adam and Shade. She wondered if his hair felt as
silky as it looked. It was definitely better kept than her own
unruly tangle of locks.

“See, I told you that chick was just a bitch,” Owen
said. “Not everyone thinks your name is a girl name.”

“You’re the only one who still insists on calling me
Kelly,” he said.

“You’ll always be Kelly to me,” Owen said with a
sweet smile.

“How did you end up with Gabe anyway?” one of the
other guys interrupted.

Melanie recognized him as the cute roadie who’d
given Nikki her backstage pass the night before.
Jack
.

“I thought you and that other hot chick were both
supposed to hook up with Shade last night. She said you two were in
love but still liked to double-team a guy because even a double
dildo is never as good as sharing one real dick.”

Melanie chuckled nervously. All the band members
were gazing at her with interest now. Even Gabe had lowered his
menu. “Nikki made that up. We’re not lovers, just friends.”

“You sure? The way she kissed
you . . . ”

“I’m sure. She completely caught me off guard or I
never would have allowed it. We’ve never double-teamed a guy. Or a
dildo.”

The roadie frowned. “But you two were so hot
together. I walked around with a boner half the night just thinking
about it.”

Kelly reached over and slapped him in the arm.
“Don’t talk like that in front of a lady.”

Melanie assessed Kelly a little more closely. She
wasn’t really attracted to men with long hair—or mohawks, until
recently—but he was gorgeous too. Strong features. Dark mysterious
eyes. A woman could get lost in those eyes for hours.

“So what do you want to eat, Mel?” Gabe asked. “I
thought you were starving.”

She settled her hand on his thigh and leaned closer
to share his menu. When he planted a gentle kiss on her hair, she
looked up at him hesitantly. He smiled. There was a longing in his
gaze she didn’t understand. It differed from the look of sexual
longing that made her crave his body. This one made her want more
than a single night with him. But that was stupid. She knew a
relationship with him would never work out. Why would he even
suggest it when he could have as many hot-and-heavy,
no-strings-attached affairs as he wanted?

“What are you having?” she asked.

“Steak and eggs.”

“That sounds good. Will you order for me too?”

“Of course. How do you like your steak?”

“Medium-well.”

“Eggs?”

“Over medium.”

“What do you want to drink?”

Gabe was still staring at Melanie as if this totally
normal conversation meant the world to him. She cupped his strong
jaw in one hand, delighting in the roughness of his beard stubble
against her fingertips, and lured him closer for a tender kiss.
When she drew away, she stared up into his green eyes and released
a dreamy sigh. It took her a moment to remember he’d asked her a
question.

“Cranberry juice, if they have it,” she said.

“If they don’t, I’ll make sure they get it.”

He ran a hand over her hair and twined one curl
around his index finger. The dead silence around the table became
noticeably uncomfortable. Melanie’s face warmed when she realized
everyone was watching them. Gabe’s brow furrowed as he turned his
gaze to the other men in the group. They were staring at him as if
he were a pod person.

“What are you all lookin’ at?” Gabe grumbled.

In unison, five pairs of eyes turned upward to gaze
at the ceiling.

A waitress approached and set plates of food in
front of those who’d arrived before Melanie and Gabe.

“Force!” The waitress whipped a black Sole Regret
T-shirt from her apron pocket and handed him a silver paint pen.
“Will you please sign this for me? All I need is Shade and my
collection of signatures will be complete.”

“Sure,” Gabe said.

“The concert last night was awesome! I was stoked
when I found out you all were staying here.”

“Glad you enjoyed the show.” Gabe signed the
T-shirt, and the waitress took his order while the ink of his
autograph dried.

He ordered for Melanie first—which made her feel
special, cherished even—and then for himself.

“And can I get some fresh fruit as well?” Melanie
asked. She didn’t usually eat such a heavy breakfast, but her
stomach was up for it this morning.

“No problem,” the waitress said. “What I wouldn’t
give to be in her shoes,” she muttered under her breath as she
walked away with her autographed Sole Regret T-shirt draped over
one shoulder.

Melanie was suddenly delighted to be sandwiched
between two sexy rock stars and having breakfast with most of the
members of Sole Regret. Thanks to Nikki’s impulsiveness, she had an
amazing story to tell her grandchildren. She’d skip the sex parts,
of course.

Apparently, Melanie wasn’t the only one who was
starving. Everyone with food fell silent as they devoured their
meals. Gabe held her hand under the table, stroking the sensitive
skin below her knuckles with his thumb.

“I wonder where Nikki and Shade are,” she said.

“Screwing in the sauna,” Adam said.

Melanie turned her head to look at him.

“He took two security guards with him to ensure
their privacy.”

“Sounds hot,” Melanie said. “And I don’t mean sexy
hot. Hyperthermia hot.”

“I’m sure it’s hella sexy hot,” Adam said. “And I’m
sure Shade will tell us all about it later when we’re bored on the
tour bus.”

“I’m sure Nikki would prefer he didn’t,” Melanie
said, embarrassed for her friend. Yeah, Nikki could be slutty, but
she made no excuses. If she wanted to fuck a guy in the sauna, she
fucked him in the sauna. Melanie sometimes envied Nikki’s lack of
inhibition, but Melanie also pitied her, because she knew that what
Nikki really wanted was for someone to love her. She was just going
about it all wrong. Melanie recognized that she was going about it
all wrong too, but then she’d never expected to feel anything for
Gabe besides lust. She was feeling things for him that she had no
business experiencing, much less expressing.