by Jackson Kane
I wasn’t that altruistic.
I'd be willing to watch my city burn, if it meant I could be with my Juliet forever.
The cast all came out one by one to steady applause, but the crowd lost their minds when Olivia came out for her bow. “Olivia was transcendent. That girl is going places.” I heard an audience member say.
Yeah, she was. I looked at Olivia one last time, put my hood up and left before the house lights came on. The air was cold outside, but I didn't mind. I needed that chill in my lungs and veins after being so warmed by Olivia's performance.
We were two dead lovers, maybe not literally, but some people just ended explosively if they were allowed to be together.
My cell buzzed. It'd been so long since I kept it on me, that I forgot I even had it turned on.
The text from Olivia read, “Don’t run away this time. I miss you.”
Present
Are you sure you want me to stay? You were almost killed, take a second and think straight or else... We can't undo what's about to happen. Those are all the things I wanted to say to her, but the words wouldn't come.
I wanted the 'Or else' too badly.
Olivia still had the fear in her eyes when she looked at me. What was she scared of? Another attack? Or was she afraid of me?
“Say what you're gonna say,” I told her. I may have saved her life, but I could destroy her so many other ways. If she wasn't scared of me, she damn well should be.
Olivia sighed, her chest quivering slightly. “When you were doing your illegal fighting, did you ever worry about dying?”
“I got lucky toward the end. Someone pulled me out of all that. Probably saved my life.” I said, pushing back old painful memories. “But yeah. Sometimes I did think I was going to die.”
“How did you deal with that?” Olivia began to look down, losing herself in the crippling fear that came with knowing how close you were to the end.
I grabbed the side of her face, and gently raised it to meet my gaze. “Everything ends, Olivia. It's the way things go.” I thought about the Romeo and Juliet play she had done a million years ago. “All you can do is enjoy what you have for as long as you can.”
She kissed me. I missed the touch of her lips so damn much. She pulled away just a few inches; only hot breaths between us.
“I want this.” She whispered the words aloud and I knew that they weren't meant for me. She was reassuring herself that it was ok.
I kissed her back, mashing those perfect lips, and slamming her up against the wall roughly. The lamp slid off the table from our impact, and smashed into big, jagged pieces against the thin, threadbare rug.
“Careful what you wish for, Olivia. I'm the big bad wolf, remember?” I kissed her again, and bit and pulled at her bottom lip before letting it go. “I'll tear you apart.”
“I don't care anymore, Bastien.” I could feel her dragging nails through my shirt. “Blow my house down.”
And that's all it took. Every fantasy I ever had about fucking this girl took over in my mind. I closed my fists around her shirt's collar, growled in her ear and gave a heave. The shirt ripped open. Popping the buttons off in every direction.
Seeing her chest rise in excitement made me rock hard. She wiggled her shirt off while trying to kiss me.
“No,” I said, pulling my face away from her. “I'm going to watch you strip for me.”
Olivia's eyes lit up, the desperation in her face twisted into perverse enjoyment. She unclasped her bra and shrugged it off. Her tits were as perfect as I remember from when I caught her in the shower. I'd jerked off to her hard that night.
“Now the pants,” I said, drinking in the sight of her smooth pale skin.
“No one's ever told me what to do before,” Olivia feigned protest. “Not like this.”
“That's because you've never been fucked by a real man.” I slid my fingers into her slim waistband. “Now, take them off before I do it for you.”
She unclasped them and let them fall. I dragged her panties down, I was done waiting. I buried my mouth into her already slick pussy, I couldn't get enough of her juices. My rough, calloused hand slid up her stomach, chest then neck. I plunged two fingers into her, and ate her clit like I was half starved.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck...” Her body crunched forward, and she bit my fingers hard as she came. She pulled my hair, wordlessly begging me to stop. I didn't. I drank her in, taking everything she could give me. “God, yes!”
When I was satisfied, I picked her up and threw her onto the bed. Broken bits of the lamp crunched beneath me. I had just enough presence to yank the cord out of the wall. I wasn't going to let fire, or anything else stop us this time.
“This time, Olivia, you're all mine.” I was mesmerized by her lying there naked. Her soft form was carved with shadow from with the cool light that flooded in through the open bedroom door.
“Then what are you waiting for?” She pulsed her fingers over her clit and pinched at her hard nipples. She bit at her lip and eyed me. She was just as hungry as I was. “Take me, Bastien.”
I didn't stand on ceremony or take my time. I tore off my shirt and pants and pulled a condom from my wallet. I climbed onto the bed, my cock stretching my boxer fabric to the splitting point. Olivia grabbed it like a handle and pulled me closer.
I pulled the fabric down and unleashed my cock into her waiting hand. “Jesus, Bastien! How the fuck are you this big?” Awe crept into her voice as she eagerly tore the packaging open and unrolled the condom onto my cock.
“You scared yet?” I grabbed my cock over her hand and ground it back and forth over her swollen pussy.
“Fuck me!” Olivia demanded.
I slipped the head in just a little, then pulled it out, torturing her, until she pleaded with me. I'd thought about this one moment since I was seventeen, her lying naked in front of me begging for my cock.
I slowly pushed into her wet opening, her warm pussy constricted all around me. Olivia moaned, softly, then steadily louder. I felt her fingernails sink into my skin, and knew she'd drawn blood. Everything else felt too good to care.
“I've wanted this for so long,” Olivia whimpered, wrapping her legs around my back and pulling me to my base.
I slid out and slowly thrust back in, then again. She was so wet and tight now, that I had to concentrate on not coming. I pulled her legs apart and put them over my shoulder, pushing my cock in deeper.
“Ohmygod.” Olivia gasped, worry flashed on her face. Her body quivered with pleasure, it brought a wicked grin to my face. She didn't know if she could take all of me, but she sure as hell wanted to try.
I was slow at first, but now I was a fucking, bucking bull. Olivia held on for dear life, then rocked forward; her body going rigid.
“I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming!” She screamed, then found a pillow to yell into to muffle the sound. I lowered myself on top of her.
Her golden pussy clamped tightly around my cock, ripping an orgasm out of me. With a groan, I filled my condom. I could only imagine what it would've been like to not have a thin layer of latex between us.
Sweaty and exhausted, we collapsed next to one another on the destroyed bed.
“Do you think anyone heard?” She asked through labored exhales.
“This place might have hourly rates.” I laughed. “No one gives a shit if we fuck here.” I was joking, the motel wasn't that bad. But even now, she was worried that someone might find and photograph her.
That had to be a hard way to live.
“Gross!” Olivia propped herself up onto her elbows and looked around disgustedly. She saw that her phone was blinking and went to grab it.
I caught her arm and gave her a stern look. I didn't need to say anything, she knew what I wanted.
Or rather, what I didn't want.
After a moment of careful deliberation, she finally turned back to me, then smiled. “OK.”
We cleaned up and laid down together again. Olivia nestled her head on my chest and fe
ll asleep almost immediately. I savored the moment as long as I could, feeling warm inside. I felt more at ease than I had in years. I got to fall asleep knowing that she chose me over her phone.
I thought about the fact that I had decided to leave her, that I was only at that studio to say goodbye. How could I leave her now? It finally felt like I had come home. I didn't need to run anymore.
At least for tonight, Olivia chose me over the rest of her life.
Chapter 15
Olivia
Past
“Hey,” I said sheepishly. I wasn't prepared for this, it was totally spur of the moment. I never thought he'd actually stay!
“Hey.” Bastien answered, leaning up against his father's truck in the faculty parking lot.
After a minute of super painful awkwardness, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “What'd you think of the show?”
“It's official.” He cracked a slight smile. “You have terrible taste in men. Romeo was a punk.”
Even that small gesture made my heart feel lighter. Ok, everything might be ok. I hadn't realized until now just how much I missed him and his stupid jokes. “That's Shakespeare, you jerk! Don't make fun of the classics.”
Bastien shrugged “Then Shakespeare has terrible taste in men.”
I laughed like I did when we used to hang out all the time. Just like that, the emptiness inside of me was filled up. I was surprised at how little it took from him to make me happy.
My laughter died down and there was a little bit of a pause, the elephant-in-the-room loomed above us. I sighed and decided to just get it over with. I needed to apologize for how mean I was to him outside of that abandoned building. “About what I said the last time I saw you, I didn't mean to come off so— I'm sorry.”
“Don't be.” Bastien grabbed my hand and goose bumps shot up my arm, even through the heavy winter clothes I wore. “The world doesn’t give a shit about me or my dad, but Trish does. And I needed to be there for her. It was what I needed to hear.”
Looking into his eyes, I felt like I could cry. I was also really upset with myself for not trying to reach out to him sooner. I wasted so much time without him... I wanted nothing more at that moment than to hug Bastien, to feel his great arms squeeze around me.
“Yo! Bash!” Lenny yelled out of the open window of his Porsche. He and his friends parked next to Bastien's truck, empty beer cans clattered out onto the pavement as they all got out of the car. They were all drunk and high.
Bastien let go of my hand. I shrunk back a few steps; it felt like I was a deflating balloon. This was such an important moment for me and they had to come and ruin it.
“Hop in, dude. We gotta go.” Lenny was drowsy-eyed, but still beaming proudly. He threw an arm around Bastien. “Stacy's parent's are away again, so she's throwing another pool party. This time it's invite-only and no one's allowed to bring a fuckin' swimsuit!”
Bastards... They'd come take Bastien away.
After all of those wasted weeks, I'd miss my window for reconnecting with him. This was a mistake. I wish I'd never texted Bastien.
Bastien flashed me a look, then turned to Lenny and the other three guys. “I'm busy. Maybe next time.”
They were stunned silent, then one of the other guys finally noticed me. “Are you crazy? Stacy mentioned you by name and you're gonna blow her off for Olivia? Just bend her over the bed of your truck and let's go—”
Bastien was too quick. I didn't even have time to be insulted, before the kid caught Bastien's fist in his mouth and was knocked onto his ass. Sometimes I forgot that Bastien was on the football team for a while. The boy wasn't unconscious, but his lip and nose were bleeding.
“Whoa! Take it easy, dude!” One of the other guys shouted while Lenny staggered back to his feet. “He was just fucking around. What's your fucking problem?”
“My problem?” Bastien asked, with white-hot gravel in his throat. He stepped between me and them. “You guys were supposed to be my friends. Where the fuck were you when my dad died, huh?” No one replied. “Olivia was the only one who gave a shit, she is my only real friend.”
“What about the party?” Lenny asked, in complete disbelief. “It's Stacy Miller, man!”
“Stacy can go fuck herself.” Bastien turned back to me and held out a hand. I was the one beaming now. I couldn't contain my smile if my life depended on it. No one had ever stuck up for me before. I worried that I might float off the ground. I took his hand, and he smiled at me. “C'mon, Olive. I'll drive you home.”
Present
I woke up to my phone vibrating like crazy. I thought it was a dream at first, not just the cell phone but, everything. Getting shot at, having sex with Bastien, none of it made any sense. It had to be a dream.
“I'm going to destroy that fucking cell phone.” Bastien grumbled softly in my ear. It was then I noticed that his arms were still wrapped around me.
It wasn't a dream!
I ran through the events of last night and made sure that no one saw us come into this motel or knew what happened. It would be devastating to my career. I felt guilty, ashamed and incredibly happy, all at once.
My phone went off again. What the hell was going on? My mind hadn't stopped racing since I woke up. I went to get up and check, but Bastien's strong arms tightened around me. I struggled, but he was in complete control.
“You're not going anywhere, it's not safe outside this bed,” he said sternly. “We're going to spend a few more days like this, then I'll think about letting you go.”
That sounded amazing. I wanted to do nothing more than to forget the world and lay low in this crappy motel room with him.
But fairy tales were for children.
“If you don't let me go, I think the phone might start foaming at the mouth.” I was the target of an assassination attempt. I didn't need to turn the TV on to know that I was the breaking news story. The calls weren’t going to stop.
“I'll buy you another phone.” He grumbled. “One that knows when to shut the hell up.”
“I have to at least let people know that I'm still alive.” I wasn't ever the reclusive celebrity type. If I disappeared for too long, sooner or later someone was going to track me down. And if they found me here, I'd have a lot more to answer for.
“Be quick,” he growled, loosening his grip on me. When I started moving he clamped his arms tightly again. “Because I'm not nearly done with you yet.”
I was glad he couldn't see the smile that gave me, although there was no hiding the shiver of taboo excitement that ran up my spine. He was still supposed to only be my bodyguard. He let me go for real and I grabbed my vibrating phone.
“A hundred and sixty messages! And nearly half as many voice mails, not to mention how many emails and social media notifications...” I slumped against the wall and reluctantly began to scroll through them.
I did not want to deal with whatever this was.
“I'll put coffee on,” Bastien sighed, knowing as well as I did that the dream was over, at least for the moment. It was time to wake up and deal with whatever real life was going to throw at us.
“Careful!” I blurted, seeing Bastien casually step over the broken lamp pieces. I laughed nervously at the I-got-this look he shot back at me. “I, uh, forgot that we broke the lamp.”
Bastien trashed all the pieces and stood up. “Yeah,” he said, mischievousness creeping across his face. “Let's break the bed next.”
He lingered long enough to see my face flush with heat, then he ducked out of the room to start the coffee. He could make me quake so casually now. Every bruise and soreness felt like a badge of perverse honor. I could still feel the lingering touch of his hands on my thighs and his cock inside of me.
And I loved it.
I needed a deep breath -and probably a cold shower- before I could focus on my damn phone. The majority of the messages came from people I barely remembered, that saw me on the news, and wanted to know more about what happened. I didn't bother w
ith them, they were just looking to sell info to the tabloids. Out of all of the messages, only one of them was worth listening to.
I called my agent back right away. “Michelle, it's Olive. I got your cryptic message about an 'opportunity of a lifetime.’”
“Olive? That nickname won't work.” Michelle was quick to interject.
Bastien must be rubbing off on me. I never used that nickname anymore, although I loved hearing it on his lips.
“It's too grandmother sounding. Olive Oil. I guarantee it won't test well.” Michelle rambled on like only people who worked in the entertainment industry could. “Here's what I'll do, I'll run it through the branding department—”
“Michelle.” I interrupted her. My agent was brutally efficient and one of the most expensive in the industry, and probably because of that, she was extremely tactless. “You know I was nearly shot last night.”
“Yes, yes,” she said. And I could picture her impatiently rolling her wrist in forward circles, as if to hurry that fact along. “I've been running spin control all morning. Exhausting for me, but fantastic PR for you! We can use this. I've already obtained the film rights to the shooting event. The script is being drafted as we speak. Your biography is easily a GO-picture through Lionhouse studios. How’s 'Olivia's Day' sound? No, wait. Just- 'Olivia.' Eh, it's a working title.”
“Michelle.” It didn’t surprise me at all that she was trying to already spin what happened into a profit. For as heartless as she was, that’s what you paid an agent to do.
“Oh, before I forget! Your bodyguard, does he have an agent yet? I can squeeze him in at just under half your percentage point. It’s nowhere near your commission rate, but you’re you. Find out if he's willing to go on the talk show circuit.”
“Michelle! Stop!” I hated talking to her first thing in the morning. She always gave me a headache. She was one of those people who talked at you until they ran out of words, then hung up if you let them. “No! Tell me about the opportunity.”