Touch Me (One Night with Sole Regret #4)(2)

"They must be getting old," Owen said with a grin. "Don't ever get old on me, Kelly."

"I don't have time to get old."

"We could invite Tex and Jack to come with us." Owen was sure the roadies would be up for a little late-night entertainment. The sex club they were going to was exclusive-invitation only. Owen couldn't believe there was a man alive who would turn down the opportunity to get inside. And Gabe, Shade, and Adam had all turned up their noses, as if guaranteed sex with a stranger wasn't good enough for them anymore. It had been good enough for them a week ago. It was still good enough for Owen.

"Nah, the crew has work to do. Tonight it's me and you, bro." Kelly lifted a fist, and Owen fist-bumped him.

"And don't forget the ladies," Owen said with a smirk. "They're the best part. You are going to actually do something with them tonight, aren't you?"

Kelly shrugged. "If I feel like it."

"I think you're getting old too."

Kelly's eyes dropped to the cuff on his wrist, and he traced it with one finger. "Maybe."

Whoever came up with that "it's better to have loved and lost" saying was the biggest fucking dolt who'd ever initiated a cliché. Kelly had loved and lost, and the loss had all but destroyed him. Owen wasn't sure if he would ever be the same. Kelly would've been better off if he'd never met Sara. The year he'd dated her, he'd all but disappeared from Owen's life. He'd been so wrapped up in the woman, it had been hard to distinguish them as separate entities. And when she'd died, she'd taken his heart with her. Five years later, Kelly still hadn't recovered the battered organ from Sara's clutches.



       
         
       
        

Owen had suffered his share of heartache, but nothing in comparison to Kelly. Where Owen had lost love in quantity-an embarrassing amount of quantity-Kelly had lost in quality. Owen had long since concluded that romance was for suckers. There would be no more heartache in his future. He was through with trying to find someone to love him for who he was, not what he'd become. If a guy was burned enough times, he eventually learned to stop putting his hand in the fire.

"I could sample a few choice pies for you and let you know which tastes best," Owen offered, only half joking. He enjoyed pleasuring a woman with his mouth, and he knew how much Kelly got off on the act. Or he had. Until last Christmas.

Fuck. Owen vowed to never give anyone a thoughtful gift ever again. It would be tube socks and neckties all around this year.

One corner of Kelly's mouth rose. "I'm not sure we have the same discriminating palate, dude."

"If you need me to-" Owen glanced pointedly at Kelly's crotch. Owen longed for the days when they'd pleasured women together. Especially the part when they'd given each other amazing hand jobs. But ever since Owen had given Kelly that cuff, Kelly had remained distant. He no longer helped Owen entertain women, and he wouldn't touch him anymore. At all. The truly confusing part of this shift in their relationship was that Owen couldn't stop thinking about his best friend's hand. Before Kelly had backed away, their brief sexual contact hadn't meant anything to Owen. He hadn't even considered it sexual contact. It wasn't as if he was attracted to Kelly or anything. He just liked the way Kelly tugged his cock just right. But now that they no longer touched each other-at Kelly's insistence-Owen couldn't get the feel of the man's perfect grip out of his head.

Owen absently stroked the thick strings of his bass guitar. Those orgasms couldn't have been as great as Owen's memory served. His mind had a way of making the things he couldn't have seem so much better than they actually were. He knew how his head worked, but the truth didn't stop him from fixating on something best left in the past. He had to get over his bizarre obsession. Kelly certainly had. Whenever Owen brought up their brief brushes with intimacy, Kelly looked uncomfortable and hedged his way out of the conversation. But maybe if they had just one more go at it, Owen could move on. He could stop thinking about how much fun they had pleasing a woman in tandem and how those interludes had culminated.

Kelly had turned off like a light switch six months before and hadn't turned back on since. Owen glanced at him again. It wasn't healthy for a man to be so, well …  celibate.

"I told you we aren't doing that anymore," Kelly said. 

"Oh, I know. It's not like it's a big deal. You just look a little tense." If an over-tightened guitar string was considered a little tense.

"I am tense, but I'll take care of it. Unlike you, I don't need a different girl every other night to get off."