Chapter Sixteen

Olive

I’d spent the day strolling around Brunswick, and I’d found myself a gig. It was a small bar, but the manager had assured me that they usually had a pretty big tourist crowd in the evenings, and the place was known for its live music. My only hope now was that Brunswick would be more accepting of my folk-country music than Venice was.

I spent the day brushing up on my songs and decided that it would be an appropriate venue to try out my new song. The one I was writing about Cormac was completed; it had flowed straight out of me, and now it felt like it was the most honest song I’d ever written.

The venue was lively when I arrived there that evening. There were a few acts lined up, and I was supposed to be the third musician to go up onstage. They’d even given me my own changing room at the back, which I was grateful for. It was amazing that I was having a better experience with my performance in Brunswick than I’d had to date in Venice. It just wasn’t something I was expecting from this city, but I was glad that I’d decided to give it a try.

I sat in the changing room, which was a small cramped space with barely any room to walk around in—but at least it was something.

I tuned my guitar, aware that I would have to be a solo artist without any other musical support. I sang a few notes to practice my singing voice and waited and listened to the other musicians onstage outside.

I wanted to perform this song in Brunswick at least once before I left. I knew that once I left this city, my chances of ever seeing Cormac again would be reduced to nothing. Pierce would make an effort in keeping us apart, and in all probability he would be successful. Besides, Cormac himself had made it very clear to me that it was over. We had gotten the sex part out of our systems, so what else was there left to experience?

It obviously didn’t matter to him that I wanted more. Not just more sex, which obviously I did, but I wanted more of a relationship. I didn’t even know that I’d been looking for a man like him all my life. Someone strong and reliable, whose possessiveness reminded me a little of my dad and brother, who was handsome and masculine and looked at me like I was a princess.

Alone in the changing room, I smiled at the memory of the way Cormac looked at me. Nobody had ever looked at me like that before, and even though he was nowhere in sight, I now had goosebumps on my arms.

Someone knocked on the door and a girl popped her head in around it to let me know that I was next onstage.

I drew in a deep breath and prepared myself for the gig, and then I left the room.

The MC introduced me as I walked up on stage. There was a mic set up in the middle of the stage and a stool behind it. I walked up to the stool and sat down, adjusting the mic to my height.

I had nothing else to wow the crowd with except my voice and my guitar and the song I’d written for a guy who was in the process of breaking my heart.

The crowd clapped lazily, but at least here in this bar, unlike in Venice, people were actually looking at me. I introduced myself and informed the audience that I was a visiting artist, all the way from LA, which got a few hoots. Then I proceeded with my usual set first.

I was conscious of being in a new city, but within the first few minutes, it became easier. Especially since every time I opened my eyes, I saw people swaying to the music; they were actually listening. The audience was interested here, and I felt less like a failure.

By the time I’d completed three songs, I was confident enough to try out my new one.

“The next song is something I wrote recently, and it’s very close to my heart,” I said, leaning into the microphone. I could see eyes glittering in the audience; the lighting was dim, so I couldn’t exactly see faces.

“It’s your regular boy meets girl, boy breaks girl’s heart, and girl has nothing left to do but write revenge songs in his memory,” I added, and it got a few laughs from the audience.

I sat back down on the stool as I strummed the first few chords. It was about Cormac, so I had to close my eyes so that I could picture his face as I sang. It was our story, based on the one day that I had spent with him, but it was a song packed with every passing thought and emotion I’d had in that span of a day.

I sang throatily, not missing a single bar, and as I sang, I realized that this music would never bore me. I could keep singing this song over and over again, and I’d never grow tired of it. This was going to be the only piece of memory I’d have of him.

As the last few lines came to a close, I opened my eyes and the tune drowned out in a loud cheer from the audience. Someone had brightened the lights, and I could finally see faces. People were clapping and hooting and cheering, and I got off the stool to wave to the audience.

It was while I was waving that my eyes fell on Cormac, who was standing at the back of the bar with a glass of whisky in his hand. He was staring right at me and was possibly the only person in the place who wasn’t clapping.

“Shit!” I mumbled under my breath.

***

I ducked off the stage and hurried to the back in the midst of the clapping. I could feel my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The last thing I wanted was for Cormac to hear the song I had written so honestly about him. We’d known each other for a day! My brother had forbidden us to see each other again. And now he had heard the song I had written about how handsome I thought he was, how I saw a future for us together, but he had pushed me away.

I felt naked and bare as I tried to weave my way around the barstaff to my changing room. I didn’t want to face him. I didn’t want him to see me in this sorry state.

But I bumped right into his massive chest, just inches away from my changing room, and Cormac grabbed my arms and kept me frozen to the spot.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I heard him ask as I slowly lifted my eyes to him. He was looking down at me with darkened narrowed eyes. He was less formally dressed right now, in a leather jacket and jeans. His blue eyes glittered like beads in the dim light of the backstage.

“What are you doing back here?” I managed to squeak out. He was still holding me tightly, making it impossible for me to make my escape.

“That song…” Cormac began to say, and I shook my head.

“It’s nothing. I was writing a new song, and it means nothing. It has nothing to do with you,” I muttered, fumbling with my words, hoping that he would just believe me and let me go.

“Who is it about, then?” he asked, and he gently lifted me off the ground and pinned me to the wall behind us. He was shielding me with his body as he glared into my eyes. He was demanding the truth. Some people passed us by, other musicians, staff, possibly even patrons at the place—it didn’t matter to Cormac. He didn’t care who saw us.

He released his grip from my arms and allowed his hands to travel down my sides to my hips. His hands lingered over my ass, while I remained pinned between his body and the wall.

“Who was the song about?” he thundered, and I could smell the whisky on his breath.

“You. Okay, it’s about you—but I’ve taken a lot of liberties with the lyrics. Not everything in that song is accurate,” I whimpered, and Cormac’s eyes roamed over my face.

“So you don’t tremble at my touch? You don’t wish that we met in another lifetime to play out our love story?” He was quoting my song now, and I felt like I had never been this embarrassed before. I gulped and looked away from him.

Cormac grabbed my face, pinching my cheeks with his thumbs, and I had no choice but to look back into his eyes.

“You have no idea how badly this fucks me up, Olive. No idea!” he growled, just as he brought his lips to mine. He was kissing me again, and I melted, just as I had before.

I kissed him back with ferocity this time, pushing against him as his hands clutched my ass. We were kissing while I pushed him, guiding him into my changing room, and I kicked the door shut with my foot.

The loud bang separated us, and our lips smacked when they parted. Cormac was panting as he stared at me. The room was small, and in it he looked big and large. I was trying to communicate with my eyes how desperately I wanted this, and Cormac ran a hand through his hair and shook his head.

“Fuck! I shouldn’t be here,” he cursed loudly and whipped around from me and walked over to the small dressing table. I stood back, feeling miserable. This kept happening to us. We were always so close to having a real moment, till he pulled back.

Cormac lifted his face to look at me in the reflection of the mirror. I could see it in his eyes—how torn he was. This wasn’t the same cocky, cheerful guy who’d opened Pierce’s door yesterday morning. This was a man who was at war with himself.

“Is it really so bad that I want you?” he asked me in a deep, guttural growl.

“No, it isn’t,” I said and shook my head.

Cormac turned to me, and in two long strides I was in his arms again. He pulled me to himself, fusing us together at our hips, and his lips were on mine again, kissing me violently, like he could devour me. He lifted me up again and carried me to the dressing table. I sat on it with my legs dangling off the edge, the cold mirror pressing into my back.

He wedged himself between my legs, and his hands reached for my breasts. Cormac was looking into my eyes while he undid the buttons of my printed silk blouse. I bit down on my lip, took in a deep breath, and moaned. His large warm hands on my body was the most comforting and pleasurable thing I’d felt all day—all week—maybe ever!

He flipped my blouse open and cupped my breasts, flicking my sensitive protruding nipples with his thumbs.

“It’s unfair how beautiful you are, Olive,” he mumbled and leaned his head over so he could tug my bra down with his teeth. My nipples were exposed to him, and he gave each of them one long lick with his tongue. I shuddered with the wave of feelings that rushed over me. I splayed my arms on either side, grabbing the mirror, the table, the wall—anything I could get my hands on—for support.

I could feel the wetness spreading between my legs. His cock in his jeans looked erect, throbbing inches away from my pussy, while Cormac continued to tease my nipples.

His hands traveled down my body, feeling its every curve, down my bare torso and belly, down my miniskirt, and my thighs trembled when he touched me there. His hands were underneath my skirt now, and he reached for my pussy. Those hands again!

I whimpered and moved my hips, just as he pushed aside my flimsy panties and caressed my clit. When I whimpered again, Cormac looked up at me, and I stared at his mouth. The very mouth that had been on my nipples a moment ago.

“I want to taste you, Olive,” he grumbled, and with his fingers still stroking my clit, he bent down between my legs. His face was level with my knees, and he used his hands to spread them apart even farther.

I knew what he was about to do, and I watched with bated breath as he pushed up my skirt to my waist. He leaned over me, his lips only a few inches away from my pussy now. His fingers continued to stroke my clit, and my body shuddered with need.

When his mouth met my pussy, I gasped loudly. I could feel him smiling as he started licking, his tongue darting within my folds, and he sucked my juices. It was explosive. Nothing had felt this good before, and he kept torturing me with his mouth. I knew I was going to come, his fingers on my clit and his mouth on my pussy. He didn’t even have to use his cock to make me orgasm.

I reached for my breasts and squeezed, and I turned my head from side to side, writhing in pleasure and desire. Cormac wasn’t about to stop till I’d orgasmed and I let go. My juices dribbled from my pussy, and my body shook.

I was screaming his name, pinching my nipples as my orgasm overtook my entire body. It was too much to bear. I felt like I could have burst into tears and broken into laughter at the same time. His tongue continued to wreak havoc on my pussy, in and out, sucking and tugging at my folds.

It was only when my breathing began to subside that he stood up. I could see his lips glistening with my juices.

“Nothing tastes sweeter than you, Olive,” he said, and he reached out and pushed aside my bangs, which were falling over my eyes. We were staring at each other, and I knew instantly that he was feeling everything that I was. It was more than just the sex, but that was all we could do right now. It was the only way we could express what we were feeling.

Cormac unzipped his jeans, and I saw his cock again. It was throbbing and veiny and big. He grabbed my knees and pushed them upward, splaying my legs apart as he brought himself closer to me.

I was scrunched up between his body and the mirror, my body positioned in an awkward angle on the dressing table. I didn’t care, I just wanted him inside me.

Cormac held my gaze as he smoothly slid his cock into me. I felt the pressure of it as he slipped inside, pushing my folds aside, and in seconds he was encapsulated within me. His cock fit perfectly in me, like he was always meant to be there.

One of his hands drifted down from my knee to my clit again, and he rubbed it while he started thrusting with his cock.

I had to close my eyes. I knew that if I kept looking at him, I’d come as quickly again. Cormac groaned with every thrust. His cock slipped deeper and deeper, stroking that spot inside me that was going to make me tumble into an orgasm again.

His fingers on my clit felt amazing, and I could feel my breasts bouncing. He thrust and thrust till I heard his loud animalistic growl, and my eyes flew open.

He grabbed my waist, pressing me down with force, and his thrusts became harder and wilder. He was growling, cursing under his breath, and I couldn’t believe how sexy he was when he lost all control. Cormac’s blue eyes looked almost black as he came.

I felt him shoot inside me, deep, and I bit down on my lip. His shoulders shook, his cock rammed into me, and he threw his head back as he deposited his seed inside me. Nothing had felt this good. I knew that I couldn’t be with another man who would satisfy me like this.

His cock was still inside me, and when he looked back at my face, his eyes were dim and dazed. He needed a couple of moments to orient himself again. My clit was throbbing and exhausted. I’d be able to feel him inside my pussy for days, I knew that already.

When Cormac began to slide his cock out of me, I felt a sudden panic. I knew it was going to end. This had happened before. After we both came, he was back to reality and aware of his surroundings.

Cormac pulled himself out, and I felt an emptiness inside me. He reached over and pulled up my bra and started doing up the buttons of my blouse. I watched him in silence as he worked away. There was a certain tenderness to his actions. It was like he was trying to put me back the way he’d found me.

His cock was still throbbing and big between his legs, and when he was done with me, he tucked himself in and zipped up his jeans.

Seconds later, while I remained sitting on the dressing table, I watched as Cormac ran a hand through his hair.

“Olive, this has to stop,” he said, and suddenly my throat had run dry and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Slowly, I straightened myself up on the table and looked at him from under my heavy eyelids. I didn’t want to hear any of this.

“Why? Why does it have to stop? Just because Pierce wants it to?” I argued, and I could hear the tears in my voice. Cormac breathed in deeply and rubbed his face with both hands and then blinked his eyes wildly like he was trying to wake up from a dream.

“Yes, and he’s right about everything. I’m going to end up hurting you, and I don’t want to. I’ve never had a real relationship before, and Pierce knows that,” Cormac explained. My heart skipped a beat at the thought that Cormac had considered a real relationship with me.

“There is a first to everything, and Pierce isn’t in our shoes. He doesn’t know what we’re feeling,” I tried, but Cormac shook his head.

“But he knows you, and he knows me. If he says that it’s not going to work, I have no choice but to take his word for it,” he continued, and I slipped my legs off the dressing table.

“No choice?” I thundered, but Cormac had already started backing away toward the door.

“Olive, please, just listen to your brother, okay? I know you’re trying to rebel against him, but Pierce is the only man in the world who would never do anything to hurt you,” he said, and I saw his hand on the door knob. My heart was dropping to my stomach. I suddenly felt claustrophobic. I didn’t want him to leave, but I couldn’t say anything to that. He was right. Pierce loved me, and he’d always looked out for me—and I knew nothing about Cormac.

“Hey,” he said, and I focused my eyes on him again. “Don’t stop doing what you’re doing, Olive. Your music is beautiful.” And then he was gone.

I heard the door shut behind him, and I pressed my eyes closed to stop the tears that had pooled in my eyes. I wasn’t going to let myself cry. Not over a guy who I barely even knew.

***

It was late by the time I returned to Pierce’s house, and I tried to be as quiet as possible. The front door was left open again and the house seemed dark. It was only when I walked down the hallway toward the stairs that I noticed the lights in the living room were switched on.

I stepped in and saw Pierce on the couch. I noticed the boxes open beside him on the carpet, from which photo albums and loose pictures spilled out. There were a few on his lap and his hands too, and he looked up at me with some sadness in his eyes.

“I didn’t know where you were,” he said, and I walked toward him with a sigh. I wasn’t prepared for another fight, for another interrogation from my brother.

“I had a gig at a bar. I got paid for it,” I replied, somewhat dejectedly, and I expected him to throw a barrage of questions at me, or at least give me a lecture on the dangers of staying out this late. Instead, Pierce smiled and nodded, then held up a photograph that I hadn’t seen in at least a decade.

“Remember this? You’d lathered the kitchen counter with peanut butter, and then we spent all morning making art in it with our fingers,” Pierce said with a wide smile, and I plucked the photograph out of his hands and plonked myself down on the couch beside him.

“Oh my God. I must have been like three or four. Dad was so angry!” I said with a laugh, staring into our bright happy faces. My brother had always been my hero. Pierce laughed too.

“But he remembered to take a picture of it first,” he added, and I was amazed at how much we used to look alike as kids.

“He wanted it as evidence,” I said, and we laughed again. I looked at his lap; it was covered in old photographs.

“I didn’t realize you still had these,” I murmured, and Pierce let out a deep sigh and focused his eyes on me.

“Of course I do, sis. These photographs have kept me going—that and the knowledge that even though we’re apart most of the time, you’re happy somewhere, safe and content,” Pierce said in a low voice, and I licked my lips.

I leaned toward him and placed my head on his shoulder, the way I used to when we were teenagers and I had a million complaints about drama in school.

Pierce reached his arm over and stroked my shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Olive, for being this overbearing and protective. Sometimes I forget that you’re a grown-up now,” he said. I pulled away from him and looked him in the eyes.

“I love you. Pierce, no matter how loud I scream at you. I know you love me too,” I said, and he smiled at me. Despite everything he’d done these past two days, I knew that was the truth, and he’d done everything because he loved me.

“Yes, I do, and I don’t want us to fight. I want us to treat each other as adults and have conversations,” he said, and I nodded.

“That sounds like a good idea,” I replied. Pierce jumped off the couch and walked over to his big plasma TV. When he switched it on, one of our old home videos was playing on the screen.

“Oh my God! Look at my braces!” I screeched, and Pierce came over to the couch again with the remote.

“Look at how cute you were,” he said.We huddled together on the couch, and I threw my legs over his lap.We laughed at the TV screen, and at least for that night, it felt like the good old times again when we were just two kids without a care in the world.