Share Me by Olivia Cunning


  tongue got tired and then she sucked her clit until her friend came. Lindsey was scarcely aware of Shade thrusting deep one last time or his shouting and shuddering as he took his release. When he let go of her thighs and pulled out, she shifted her arm between Vanessa’s legs so she could slide two fingers into Vanessa’s sweet, silky pussy. Lindsey loved making her friend moan and writhe in ecstasy. When Vanessa found another orgasm minutes later, Lindsey gasped at the sensation of Vanessa’s flesh clenching in hard spasms around her exploring fingers. When her friend had settled, Lindsey kissed Vanessa’s shaven mound affectionately and slid her fingers free.

  She lifted her head to find that Shade had left the room while she’d been otherwise occupied eating out her best friend. What. The. Fuck?

  Vanessa grabbed Lindsey and drew her against her in a warm embrace. “Damn, girl, where did you learn to do that with your tongue?”

  “Um.” Lindsey flushed. “Kellen Jamison?”

  Vanessa laughed. “That man just landed himself at number one on my fuck-it list.”

  Lindsey lifted her head to look down into the familiar face of her best friend. She loved this woman, she did, but she didn’t ever want to eat her pussy again. “Nessi?”

  “Yeah, sugar.”

  “Does this mean I’m gay?”

  “Naw, baby. We was just caught up in the moment and got a little bicurious.”

  “Okay,” she said and laid her head on Vanessa’s shoulder.

  “I don’t know what it is about rock stars that makes us act all crazy.”

  Lindsey knew. “They’re walking aphrodisiacs.”

  Vanessa chuckled and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “You said it, girlfriend. You said it.”

  Lindsey’s mind soon wandered to the remaining two rock stars in on the tour bus.

  “Hmm, I wonder if Gabe and Adam are cold and lonely.”

  “We could go check,” Vanessa said.

  Chapter Twelve

  Owen hopped out of his bunk and winced when his barefoot landed on a used condom. He was pretty sure it wasn’t his, but who the hell knew after the orgy that had gone down the night before.

  He peeled the sticky prophylactic off the bottom of his foot and tossed it into the garbage can under the sink. He was always the first to wake up, but this morning, it was important, because Santa had been too busy screwing the night before to dig his presents out of their hiding place.

  Owen stepped over Tex, who was sprawled in the aisle wearing nothing but his cowboy boots, and for some inexplicable reason, his belt and prized rodeo buckle. Owen’s toe connected with an empty whiskey bottle and it rolled across the floor to get lost under the dining room table, which had been used for a different kind of feast the night before. It had been fun while it lasted, but now his tongue would never work properly again and his lower back and hips were calling his insatiable cock every sort of a son-of-a-bitch.

  Or maybe he’d dreamt it all. His band members were all stark naked and passed out in various uncomfortable positions around the cabin, but there wasn’t a woman in sight.

  He found the pair of female friends curled up together on the bed in the back of the bus. When the generous ladies had come out of the bedroom the night before, the only one who hadn’t taken a turn at one or the other of them—or both of them in Owen’s case—had been Kelly. He was still saving his love for a dead girl. Owen hoped his gift helped him get over her a little. If for no other reason, Kelly seriously needed to find something better than Owen’s had to get him off.

  Owen donned a pair of discarded jeans he found on the bedroom floor—which turned out not to be his because they were several sizes too big—and his Santa hat. He flopped down on the floor, rolled onto his back, and shimmied his shoulders under the bed. He tugged out the velvet sack he’d stuffed way back under the headboard a few nights before.

  A foot stomped right in the middle of his stomach.

  “Umph!”

  “Oh my God,” Lindsey said as she pulled her foot back. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  “You don’t need a spleen to live,” he said breathlessly and after some scooting around, rose into sitting position.

  “Did we really have a sex orgy last night?” she whispered, her innocent-looking blue eyes wide in disbelief.

  “Nope. What happens on the Sole Regret tour bus, stays on the Sole Regret tour bus.” He winked at her and rose to his feet.

  Owen slung his sack of presents over one shoulder and grinned at Lindsey. “Santa already gave you your present last night. You are now permanently on his naughty list.”

  She flushed and lowered her eyes to her clenched hands.

  He leaned over and kissed her temple. “I meant what I said about every sinfully delicious thing that happens on this bus, doesn’t leave it.”

  “Okay,” she said breathlessly, but didn’t look at him.

  She really was a doll. He might have considered calling her if she hadn’t slept with every last one of his band mates. Oh, and his bus driver.

  “You had fun, right?” Owen asked.

  She nodded earnestly and then her eyes rolled up in her head as whatever erotic memories were teasing her thoughts.

  “Then don’t let it bother you.”

  He tripped over what had to be Gabe’s overlong pant legs as he left her to mull over her misdeeds. He should probably find his own jeans, before he started waking people. He found them in the shower and had no idea how they’d gotten there. He took the time to use the john before changing into his own pants.

  “Merry Christmas,” he bellowed from the end of the corridor.

  Tex sat bolt upright in the middle of the aisle. “What the fuck?” He covered his head with both hands and winced in pain. He then noticed his state of undress and shifted his hands to cover his crotch. “Who gave me whiskey?”

  Owen chuckled. He wouldn’t remember a thing from the night before. He never did when he drank too much whiskey.

  “Ah God.” He tried to stand but ended up crawling to the bathroom and locking himself inside.

  “I said, Merry Christmas, assholes,” Owen yelled. “It’s time to wake up. Santa came.”

  “I remember him coming at least four times,” Adam’s said from his bunk. Well, he was mostly in his bunk. One hand and foot were dragging the floor. “I can’t feel my arm.”

  “That sucks for a lead guitarist, doesn’t it?” Shade grumbled from the sofa. He had a pair of pink panties stuck to his forehead. Owen grinned, wondering how long it would take him to notice.

  Adam rolled onto his back and used his functional arm to try to rub the circulation back into his temporarily frozen one. “I’d flip you off if you were worth the trouble.”

  “Here’s what Santa brought you, Adam.”

  “Let me guess. Another chain.”

  Owen laughed. “How did you know?”

  “You buy me a chain every year. That’s why I have like ten of them.”

  “Well now you have eleven. You’re welcome.”

  Adam smiled at him—he really didn’t do that enough these days. “Thanks, man. It’s exactly what I wanted. And I really didn’t get you shit.”

  “That’s not from me, it’s from Santa.”

  “Yeah okay. What are you—five years old?”

  “On Christmas I am.”

  Gabe hadn’t stirred from his upside down sprawl in the recliner. His mohawked head was on the extended foot rest, legs spread and draped over each chair arm. After seeing where Gabe’s balls were currently situated, Owen vowed to never sit in that chair again.

  “Gabe, are you awake? It’s Christmas.”

  “I just wanna sleep,” he said in a slurred voice.

  “I guess you don’t want this boring ass book that Santa brought you.” Owen dropped the heavy book on Gabe’s chest, which definitely got his attention. Clutching the book in both hands, he lifted his head and glanced around in confusion. “Um,” he said. “How in the fuck did I wind up sleeping like this? It defies
all logic.”

  “Sort of like your hairstyle.”

  Gabe lift the book and blinked his eyes until they focused well enough to read the title. “Theories in Antigravity? Now there’s a thought. Imagine sex in space.”

  “Enjoy,” Owen said.

  He handed Shade a long flat box. “Sunglasses? For me? Good thing. Vanessa broke my last pair when she sat on my face.”

  “Nope, sorry. Had he known you would be without your precious sunglasses on Christmas morning, Santa would have gone with the usual, but he was a little more creative this year.”

  Shade opened the box and lifted the flat cross that dangled from a silver chain. He lifted an eyebrow at him. “Trying to keep me out of trouble?”

  “Wear it over your heart,” Owen said. “And read the inscription on the back while you’re at it.”

  “Your angel,” Shade read haltingly. “…is always.” He scowled at the words.

  “Close to your heart,” Owen finished for him, knowing how the guy struggled with written language.

  Shade bit his lip. “I wonder if she’s awake yet. I need to call her. Do we have phone service yet?” He slipped the chain over his head and patted it into his chest, before peeling the panties off of his forehead and seeking clothes to make himself decent before he talked to his three-year old daughter on Christmas morning.

  “Yeah, we have service,” Tex yelled from the back of the bus. “I just called the crew. The equipment truck didn’t attempt the pass, so they’re all fine. A snow plow is trying to clear the roads and they’re sending up a tow truck to help stranded vehicles.”

  Not quite a Christmas miracle, but definitely good news.

  Owen found Kelly in the driver’s seat. He was wide awake, wrapped in a red plaid flannel blanket staring out at the bleak white landscape outside the bus. The snow had stopped during the night, but the wind had piled it into huge drifts. The sky was gray with dense clouds making the sunlight dim. Like Kelly’s mood. Owen couldn’t stand to see him depressed. Especially on Christmas. He stood beside his chair and stared at Kelly’s reflection in the windshield for a long moment. Kelly had that familiar far-off pained look in his eyes. He didn’t seem to realize that Owen was standing at his side.

  “You’re thinking about her again,” Owen said.

  Kelly sucked a startled breath through his nose and then released it slowly. “Christmas is tough,” he said quietly, though his gaze never moved from whatever point in the distance held his attention. He was seeing the past. Still living in the past.

  “Why’s that?” Owen asked.

  “She said she wanted me to take her to see the Christmas tree in Times Square before she died.”

  Owen knew Sara had died in January, so the opportunity had been there. “Did you go?”

  He shook his head almost unperceptively. “I refused to take her. I wanted her to stay in bed. All those little things she wanted to do before she went, I wouldn’t let her do them. I was so afraid of her dying that I didn’t let her live.”

  “Are you going to let yourself start living soon?” Owen asked.

  Kelly turned his head to look up at him. “You can’t help but stick your nose in other people’s business, can you?”

  “Nope.”

  “And you can’t let people wallow in their misery.”

  “Nope.”

  “You know why?”

  “Nope.”

  “Nothing truly horrible has ever happened to you.”

  Owen smiled. “And I plan to keep it that way.” He pulled the last gift from his bag and tossed it on Kelly’s lap. “Santa got you something. When you wear it, Sara will know you’re still bound to her. When you take it off, it’s because you’re finally ready to do what she wanted you to do and move on.”

  Owen hoped Kelly didn’t wear the leather wrist cuff for too awfully long. He wanted it to be a constant reminder to him that Sara would want him to find someone to love. Or at least to someone to screw properly.

  He patted Kelly’s shoulder and turned to go. Kelly grabbed Owen’s wrist and stuffed a small box in his hand. “Santa got you something too.”

  Excitement flowing through him, Owen opened the box and found a set of dog tags on a chain. He ran his fingers over his brother’s name—Chad—and then donned him. He’d worn dog tags for years—even before his brother had joined the military—to symbolize how he loved his country. These tags meant something even more to him. He clutched the flat pieces of metal in one hand and sent a silent prayer to keep his brother safe in Afghanistan. He hoped Chad was able to have some sort of celebration. Maybe he could talk the guys into visiting the troops and putting on a concert for them someday. Or maybe he could fool Shade into thinking that he’d come up with the idea and he’d insist the band go overseas.

  “Thanks,” Owen said, “but don’t you think it’s kind of lame to give your buddy jewelry for Christmas?” He knew damned well he’d given three out of four of his band mates some sort of jewelry, but couldn’t help but mess with Kellen. He was entirely too gloomy this morning.

  “That’s from Santa,” Kelly said. “Don’t tell me you stopped believing.”

  “Of course I haven’t. It’s Christmas.”

  He turned to find Shade talking on his cell phone and grinning like a loon. “Did you open all your presents already?” Shade laughed at whatever his daughter said on the other end of the line. “What did Santa a bring you?” He interjected a “wow!” and a “that’s awesome!” every now and then, but otherwise just listened to her rattle on about her apparently huge pile of gifts. After several minutes, his smile faltered. “No, angel, I can’t come see you today.” He put on a pair of horribly bent sunglass to hide his suddenly watery eyes, but he couldn’t disguise the breathless quality of his voice as he spoke to her. “I’m stuck in the snow.” He chuckled. “Yes, I know it doesn’t snow lots in Texas, but I’m in Idaho. It snows lots in Idaho.” He bit his lip. “You’d make a perfect snow angel.”

  Owen pointed at his Santa hat to remind him that they were going to give little Julie a second Christmas this year.

  “When daddy gets home…” He paused as she interrupted him again. “Eight more sleeps. I know that’s a long time, honey. When daddy gets home in eight more sleeps, we’ll have another Christmas with just you and me.”

  Owen crossed his arms over his chest and cleared his throat pointedly. He totally wanted in on the fun. He loved Christmas just as much as any three-year-old did.

  “And Owen is going to get himself stuck in the chimney just for you.” Shade laughed. “Yep, he does have a flying reindeer as a matter of fact.” And then apparently his ex-wife got on the phone because his expression changed from his “melted daddy” look to his “oh my god what does this bitch want now” look. “Maybe he does have a fucking flying reindeer,” Shade shouted.

  Really? She was going to yell at him about that? Owen normally didn’t interfere in Shade’s drama with his ex-wife, but he wasn’t letting Tina ruin Shade’s entire day. He was miserable enough about not getting to see his daughter today.

  He lifted the phone to his ear, not really paying attention to her caterwauling. “Tina,” Owen said, “he’ll be there to pick Julie up a week from tomorrow. Have a Merry Christmas.”

  He hung up and handed the phone back to Shade.

  “Thanks,” Shade said, “I can’t seem to control my temper when I have to interact with her.”

  “No problem,” Owen said. “I love hanging up on her.”

  “How about a nice Christmas breakfast?” Shade said.

  “Are you cooking?” Owen asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Pancakes?”

  “What else?”

  “I’m in.”

  “Me too,” Gabe said, setting his new book aside.

  “Me three,” Adam said.

  “Kelly?” Owen called. “You want breakfast?”

  “Does Gabe have pants on yet?”

  “I’m on it,” Gabe promised.

>   “Then yeah.” Kelly shed his blanket, his new leather cuff on
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