Devils Don't Fly (Love Me, I'm Famous Book 4)

by M. H. Soars

  “What’s keeping you from jumping his bones?”

  “I don’t want to give him the wrong idea. He’s not only a guy I find irresistible, Em. He’s my husband. I need to at least feel something more than pure lust.”

  Understanding dawns on her face. “Ah, I see. And do you think you could fall in love with Oliver again?”

  Her question makes me pause. Sometimes I think I’m already falling for him, but the anger at the universe keeps swirling in my chest and clouding everything.

  “I-I don’t know.” I glance at my hands.

  “Saylor, look at me.”

  With a loud exhale, I do as she asks.

  “You have been given a second chance at life with a man who worships the ground you walk on. Are you going to throw it all away, or are you going to grab this chance and never let go?”

  I squirm under Emma’s intense stare. “When did you become so insightful?”

  She twists her face into scowl. “I’ve always been insightful.”

  I give her a pointed look and she continues. “I hide it well.”

  Her lips split into a smile before she drops her gaze to the menu. “Well, since it seems I’m not getting my eye candy today, I better stuff my face with the most delicious greasy burger they have.”

  I end up ordering the same ten-thousand-calorie burger as Emma, but don’t even eat half. I’m so nervous, I lost my appetite. Emma doesn’t seem to notice, talking a hundred miles an hour about her life in New York and her many conquests. I listen to her partially, my mind going back to Oliver. What am I going to do about him?

  The house is eerily quiet when I open the front door, so I call out Oliver’s name as I come up the stairs. Reaching the landing, I find the main room empty. Allan’s laptop is gone. Maybe he had an appointment.

  Oliver comes into the living room a moment later with a towel wrapped around his waist and nothing else, his chest still gleaming wet from the shower. He’s drying his hair with another smaller towel in the most relaxed manner, as if prancing almost naked into his office isn’t a big deal. What if the girls were here?

  “What’s up, sugar?”

  I open my mouth to reply, but I’m hit with a sudden flash of memory—Oliver standing in front of me in the exact same manner. The image is gone before I can place it, leaving behind a blinding headache. A dizzy spell hits me, forcing me to take a side step to keep my balance.

  Oliver is in front of me in an instant, his warm hands holding my upper arms. “Saylor, are you all right?”

  His lemony scent hits my nose at full strength, almost making me whimper. I stare at the base of his throat, taken over by a sudden desire to lick the droplet of water still there.

  Calm down, Saylor.

  “Yes, I’m okay. I came up the stairs too fast.”

  “Would you like to sit down? I’ll grab you a glass of water.”

  Taking a step back, I look at everything but him. “I’m fine. Clothes would be good.”

  I don’t need to glance in his direction to know he’s grinning. “What? Is my hot bod bothering you?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. Your glistening abs are very distracting. You look like you’ve been Photoshopped.”

  Oliver bursts out laughing, the sound creating havoc in my heart. I turn to him and wish I hadn’t. I’m two seconds away from tackling the guy. God, I sound like a hormonal teenaged boy who can’t control his sexual urges.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “That’s a line from Crazy, Stupid, Love.”

  Wrapping one arm across my middle, I glare at him. “So? Do you have exclusivity rights to borrowing lines from songs and movies in this relationship?”

  His smile grows bigger. “No, sugar. You can lay all your corny lines on me.”

  I walk toward Allan’s desk and sit down, needing to put a barrier between Oliver and me. “Where’s your right-hand man today?”

  “He went to San Diego to check out a potential band.”

  “Oh, so you’re looking for new talent.” I can’t help the disappointed tone in my voice. “I guess that makes sense.”

  “Hey, don’t be like that. Renegades is a production company. We’ve always intended to add more talent to our roster.”

  “What’s going to happen to Wreck of the Day if I can’t play?” I stare at my semi-useless hand. I can feel some tingling sensation, but my hand’s only cooperated on a few occasions.

  “You still have your voice and your talent to compose music. If needed, we can find a guitarist.”

  I whip my face in his direction. “Hell no!”

  “Calm down, sugar. It’s just a contingency plan. I have complete faith that you’ll recover the movement in your left hand. You can already flip me off with it.”

  Hunching my shoulders forward, I concentrate on wiggling my fingers. Surprisingly, they obey.

  “Did you want to speak to me?” Oliver asks as he sits on the edge of the desk, the towel on his waist parting in the middle.

  My gaze drops to his crotch as my cheeks become hot as lava.

  “Saylor?” Oliver probes again.

  Clearing my throat, I peel my gaze from his nether region. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Derek before.”

  Oliver loses his relaxed stance, his spine going rigid. “Was he there during every session?”

  “No. He joined the first time. He went to med school with Cheryl, you know?” Looking up, my gazes connects with his. I want Oliver to read the truth in my words. “The reason Derek was there, why his presence didn’t bother me, is because I don’t care if I screw up in front of him. I don’t want to impress him.”

  “Are you saying you want to impress me? Sugar—”

  “Ollie, please, let me finish. Derek has no hold to my heart whatsoever. Your jealousy is misplaced.”

  Oliver keeps staring at me without saying a word for what feels like an eternity.

  “All right, I’m going to put some clothes on before you combust on the spot.” He hops off the desk with the grace of a cat. “If you want to change, do so now. I’m taking you somewhere.”

  “Where?”

  His lips twist into a crooked smile. “Ah, it’s a surprise, sugar.”

  Fourteen

  Oliver

  Saylor keeps staring at me, as if by doing so, she’ll be able to read my mind. I try my best to maintain an impartial expression, but it’s hard not to smirk a little. I’m smug, but I shouldn’t feel that way. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing here.

  I can tell Saylor is impatient when we drive by the welcome sign to Littleton. She can’t sit still.

  “Have I ever told you I don’t like surprises?” she says.

  “Everyone likes surprises.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Relax, sugar. I’m not taking you to a sex shop, if that’s what has your panties in a bunch. Actually, is there even one in this village?”

  “Hey, don’t dis Littleton. It’s a great city to live in.”

  “Would you like to come back here? We could easily buy a house.”

  “No!”

  “Wow! So much for your love of your hometown.”

  “Please tell me that’s not what we’re doing here.”

  Chuckling, I signal to turn onto the street Saylor once brought me to. “Nothing quite as dramatic. Here we are.”

  Saylor looks out the window before she turns me, her eyes round as saucers. “How did you know about this place?”

  “You brought me here once when I was having a hard time. I can tell you all about it another day. So, are you ready to go on a treasure hunt?”

  Without another word, Saylor gets out of the car. This time, we don’t have to jump the wired fence to get in Blueberries’ Antiques. Pity, I was kind of looking forward to climbing Marvin again.

  I wave to the tree as I follow Saylor in. “Hello, Marvin.”

  Saylor stops and spins around so fast, I almost bump into her. “You know his name?”

  “Oh yeah.
Marvin and I go way back.”

  Squinting, Saylor pokes my chest with her index finger. “You’re telling me that story when we get home.”

  I chuckle, grabbing her hand to kiss the knuckles without taking my eyes off her. The glint in her eyes turns from annoyed to molten in a split second. I never wanted to kiss Saylor more than I do now. I’m about to succumb to the pull that’s stronger than me when the bark of a dog interrupts me.

  Saylor turns, pulling her hand from my grasp in the process. “Oh my God. Xander, I can’t believe you’re still alive.

  The German shepherd jumps on her, dirty paws smearing mud all over her clothes. She doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, she laughs like a little kid as the dog proceeds to lick her face.

  “Okay, okay, down boy.”

  He listens to her command, only to attempt to do the same to me. I step out of his way, less inclined to have my clothes smeared.

  “What? You don’t like dogs?”

  “Dogs are brilliant. Their dirty paws and wet kisses, not so much.”

  Saylor wipes her cheek with the back of her hand. “Yeah, it’s a little disgusting. But I couldn’t reject the poor guy. I haven’t seen him in….” Her eyebrows furrow. “Ugh, I hate this.”

  I move closer, placing a hand on Saylor’s lower back. “It’s okay, sugar. It hasn’t been that long, only a few of months or so.”

  She nods once before stepping out of my reach to peruse the backyard. The rows of broken furniture and other gnarled pieces are just as bad in the daylight. But Saylor used to love this place, so I figured she would like coming here again.

  I’m not surprised when she makes a beeline toward the same spot she did on the night she brought me here. However, there’s only an empty space now where the old swing used to be.

  “Oh no. It’s not here.” She sounds so disappointed.

  “What’s not there?” I pretend to be clueless.

  “The old swing. It was my favorite piece in this place. I used to play in it while my mother looked around.”

  “I’m sure it’s standing in someone’s backyard, making another little girl happy.”

  “Or it could have just corroded completely and turned to dust.”

  “Way to think positive, sugar.”

  She looks over her shoulder to stick her tongue out to me. My cock twitches in my pants. Fuck me. All the wicked things I have planned for that sinful mouth. Patience, Ollie boy.

  “Do you want to look around? Maybe find a piece for a DIY project?”

  Saylor turns around, looking at everything and nothing. “I haven’t done those in a very long time.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you going to help me?” There’s such a vulnerable glint in her gaze that I want to pull her tight against my chest.

  “Help with what? Picking out something?”

  “That and also help work on it.”

  Rubbing the back of my neck, I glance at the closest piece of junk next to me. “Uh, I’ve never done anything like that. I’ll probably fail miserably at it.”

  Saylor lips twist into a smirk. “Oh my God. Did Oliver Best just admit he’s not good at something.”

  I take a couple of steps in her direction with all the swagger I possess. “I’m good where it counts.”

  I drop my eyes to her lips and once again, I notice Saylor’s reaction to my proximity. It’s the hitch in her breathing, the way her lips part just a fraction, as if she’s unconsciously inviting me to taste her cherry-flavored Chap Stick.

  The magnetic pull between us is too strong, and I’m tired of fighting it. I lean closer, determined to kiss my wife today. Her eyes focus on my mouth, and when her pink tongue darts out to lick her lower lip, I almost lose my shit. There’s barely any gap between us now. My heart feels like it’s going to explode.

  At the last minute, Saylor seems to wake up from the lust fog and steps away.

  Clearing her throat, she says, “Uh, I think I saw a table that could use some love.”

  She scurries away with the dog close on her heels before I can stop her.

  It’s okay, sugar. Your walls are crumbling down tonight.

  SAYLOR

  My heart gallops at full speed the entire trip back home. I don’t know what to do, I’m fidgety, and my palms won’t stop sweating. There’s some overwhelming energy swirling in my chest that I haven’t felt since I was a teen. It’s crazy, but I think I have a crush on my husband. How many people can say that? The question is, should I give in and see where it’ll lead?

  The tension in the air surrounding us is palpable; it’s an electricity we can’t deny. I avoid looking at Oliver at all costs as I walk ahead of him, which only proves to be a terrible idea. His gaze on my back scorches my skin. It makes me feel vulnerable, but it’s also like a soft caress. Chills run all over my body.

  I have every intention of hiding in my room, but Oliver won’t let me escape so easily.

  “It’s a lovely day. Shall we hang out by the pool for a little bit?” he asks.

  “Sure.” The answer leaves my lips before I can process the ramifications. I am a silly girl crushing on the hottest guy in school. I have no free will anymore.

  Cut the bullshit, Saylor. You’re dying for a taste of Oliver Best.

  He walks around me to open the sliding door. The chilly gust of wind barrels through the opening, and I shiver inside my jacket. “Perhaps going outside isn’t such a great idea after all.”

  “Aw, come on, sugar. I’ll start a fire. Maybe we can toast some marshmallows.”

  I’m immediately sold on the idea. I do love those gooey sweet treats. “How about some hot cocoa too?”

  “Consider it done. Let me start the fire first.”

  I follow him outside, but it takes me a moment to realize Oliver had ulterior motives to bring me there. The old swing that used to be my favorite thing in that secondhand store is standing on the other side of the pool. It looks a little worse for wear, but I recognize the chipped red and white paint, the rusty chains. One of them is broken, and the seat is hanging at an angle.

  I peer at Oliver, my vision already blurry. “You bought my swing?”

  “Sure did, sugar. I thought it could be my DIY project. I know I have my work cut out for me. Do you like it?”

  “Do I—” A huge lump forms in my throat and the words get stuck there.

  My feet start moving of their own accord until I stop right in front of Oliver. I have to crane my neck to stare into his eyes. Breathing is almost impossible with the way my heart is beating at full speed. Oliver keeps staring at me with a sweet smile on his lips and a promise in his gaze.

  Raising on the tip of my toes, I give him a soft, chaste kiss on the lips. Holy cannoli, it doesn’t matter. Heat spreads through my body like wildfire, uncontrollable and devastating.

  I try to take a step back, but Oliver wraps an arm around my waist, keeping me in place.

  “Not so fast, sugar.”

  His warm palm cradles the side of my face right before he brings his lips to mine again. His tongue darts out, teasing the seam. I’m too weak to fight my own traitorous body, so I lean closer, melting against his chest and succumbing to Oliver’s invasion with glee.

  If there were awards for first kisses, this would take first prize. It’s heady and is making my head spin. Raw energy crackles just above my skin, curling around my limbs in a sensual dance. I grab his arm so I can remain upright. I’ve never been so lost and found at the same time.

  Oliver is the one who pulls back first. If it were up to me, I would never stop kissing him.

  “Now that’s better.”

  Heat rushes to my cheeks. I’m embarrassed that I so easily lost control. I think if Oliver hadn’t stopped, I would’ve jumped his bones right here and now.

  “I-I-I’m cold. I’d better get back inside.”

  “What about the marshmallows and hot cocoa?” Strangely, he doesn’t seem disappointed.

  “Maybe some other time.”

 
; I run back into the house as fast as I can because I’m one second away from ignoring all my self-imposed barriers and demanding Oliver continue what he started.

  Fifteen

  Oliver

  Saylor locked herself in her room yesterday and didn’t come out again. When I woke this morning, her door was still shut. Perhaps I should be worried about her reclusion, but I’m too fucking happy about yesterday’s kiss to let concern dampen my mood. As it is, Allan finds me whistling when he comes into the office. It takes him all of five seconds to ask why I’m so cheery.

  “No reason,” I say.

  “I don’t believe that for a second.”

  “How was the trip? Fruitful, I hope.” I quickly change the subject, wanting to keep my progression with Saylor on the down-low.

  A glint of excitement shines in Allan’s eyes. “Well, the band I went to see was a total bust. But then I wound up at this local bar where a brother and sister duo were playing. They were freaking awesome.”

  I pull up a chair and take a seat. “Go on.”

  “They’re twins. She plays the piano and he’s the voice. Both very talented.”

  “I take it you have an idea for them?”

  “Oh yeah. I think they could make a great dance-rock band. We just need to find a drummer and a guitarist.”

  “And what did they think about that idea?”

  “Are you kidding me? After the stratospheric success of Wreck of the Day, they were freaking excited.”

  “All right. You should arrange for them to come over. Maybe they can jam with the girls.”

  “Sticks would love that.”

  There’s a different tone in Allan’s voice when he says our drummer’s name, and it gets me curious. “How are things going between the two of you? No more awkwardness?”

  “To be honest, I haven’t had a chance to talk with her properly. I think she’s avoiding me.”

  “I’m not going to beat around the bush here. Are you interested in her?”