by Tia Siren
She wasn’t famous enough to be on the fuck list, but goddammit, my cock was aching to be inside her. I didn’t know what it was about Olivia Poole that had me thinking about bending my rules, but she was unlike any woman I’d ever known.
Maybe that was it.
She wasn’t like the rest of the gold diggers and ladder climbers and groupies and fake stars that haunted my life like zombies stumbling through The Walking Dead.
She was young and fresh and truly talented and just wanted to sing.
When I asked what she wanted for her career—what she wanted from me—she said she just wanted to sing.
How fucking refreshing was that?
She nailed the Bangles song on the first take, so I had her give Robbie a list of five more songs to record. These were just demo recordings I could share with Drew and the VP of A&R to confirm that I was listening with my ear and not my cock, so they didn’t have to be perfect.
That said, her voice was so damn strong and her singing so dead-on pitch that I could have released the demos as the real thing and nobody would have been any wiser.
She was wasting her talent screaming punk-rock bullshit into a microphone. This girl could sing. Really sing. And I could make her famous.
I had lost track of time, so I glanced at my Rolex. It was almost six o’clock and Liv had been in the studio for an hour since her last break.
I watched her at the microphone, singing her rendition of the classic “Summertime.” Her eyes were closed. She cupped the headphones to her ears. Her breasts gently swayed as she moved. Her tongue darted across her lips. She wasn’t just singing the song. She was making love to it.
I felt something inside me click as I stared at her face.
Not an audible click like a switch being thrown, but something subtle I couldn’t otherwise describe, like brain cells switching off and on.
I took out my phone and called up the file labeled The Fuck List. I took a deep breath as I moved the cursor to the number one spot, which was currently held by Taylor Swift (I know, that was gonna be a tough one). I moved Taylor down to number two, and at number one, I typed in Olivia Poole.
She wasn’t famous at the moment, but by the time I was done with her, she would be.
And she would be mine: heart, mind, body, and soul.
She finished the song and I stood up to give her a standing ovation, making her smile.
I pressed the intercom button and said, “I think that’s enough for one day. Come on, superstar, let me buy you dinner.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN: Olivia
I was both giddy and exhausted. I’d just spent four hours singing my ass off and playing star as Cain watched me through the glass and egged me on. I closed my eyes sometimes when I sang. Each time I opened my eyes, there he was, staring back at me with a smile that made it hard to concentrate on the lyrics.
He didn’t ask if I’d like to go out to dinner or what I’d like to eat. He just took my hand and dragged me out of the building and into a waiting car. I had to admit, I didn’t mind being towed along behind him. He looked as good from the back as he did from the front.
He opened a bottle of Perrier and handed it to me without asking if I was thirsty. Then he proceeded to spend the next few minutes telling me how awesome I was. “Fucking amazing” was the term he kept using. I thought that was fucking awesome.
I sipped the fancy bottled water, which tasted like Alka-Seltzer, and took it all in stride.
I’d had smoke blown up my skirt before by guys just trying to get me in the sack, so I took Cain Bohannon’s words with a grain of salt, especially knowing what I knew about him from the Internet (which Mona swore was all true). Cain Bohannon was a legend of debauchery and bad behavior.
Bad boy billionaire, star fucker, industry bully, obnoxious asshole, and owner of the famous fuck list…
Even if his fuck list didn’t really exist, it was clear he was used to having his way with everything in his life, including his women. Cain Bohannon didn’t ask for permission. He just did what he wanted, no matter the cost. All you could do was hold on for the magnificent ride.
The words I had jokingly said to Mona when she told me about the fuck list echoed in my brain.
I remembered saying, “Hey, if it will get him to notice our music, I might fuck him!”
Sitting just inches away from him now, so close I could smell his musk, I wondered if I had the guts to back up my own words.
The dampness between my legs was screaming yes.
But the little voice in my head was saying no.
I had flirted with him, shown off my body to him. But I would not fuck him just for a contract.
* * *
We had dinner at a swanky Italian place called Scarpetta that I was grossly underdressed for, but when the maître d’ saw I was with Cain, he smiled and welcomed me like the Queen of England. I nearly choked on my breadstick when I saw the prices on the menu, but Cain just smiled and offered to order for the both of us so I wouldn’t order the cheapest thing on the menu.
He ordered some sort of gourmet salad as the entre, and I told him how my mom started to take me to music lessons even before I could read and write.
“When I was a kid, I couldn’t make my mind up about which instrument to play,” I told Cain, sipping on my wine, “So she indulged me, first trumpet, then piano, then violin...”
“Sounds more like spoiling to me,” Cain said with a cheeky grin. His smile really was sexy and I almost forgot what I was saying.
“But it was chorus practice that I loved the most.”
“You have a beautiful voice,” Cain said, staring into my eyes. His compliment seemed genuine. “And I’ve heard many voices.”
And fucked many women, I thought.
Two waiters appeared at our table. One removed our empty salad plates, and the other brought in our main course. A luscious slice of Lasagna sizzled before me. The waiter then refilled my glass. Had I already had two?
“Do you really have a fuck list?” I asked, eyeing Cain coyly. I heard myself ask the question. I wondered if my brain had sent it to my lips without thinking or if it had come from another part of my body that was dying to get in on the conversation.
Cain chuckled again, almost blushing. “Tell me more about this list.”
“Ah, so you deny it,” I said. “The list of famous women you want to fuck and the ones you’ve already fucked.”
“We’ve already been over that,” he said with a smile.
I leaned toward him and licked my lips. “So, there is no list?”
“No, of course not.”
“So you’ll fuck a woman even if she’s not famous?”
Cain leaned towards me and whispered, “I’m going to fuck you.” He paused. “Even before you’re famous.”
Even before I’m famous? I glanced around the restaurant. I got it. He was wining and dining me just to get me to fuck him. He made me feel like a star, singing my guts out just to get me to fuck him.
“Oh no you’re not,” I said. “I’m not that desperate. I don’t need you to get a career in music. I’m not one of your starlets who sleeps her way into the music business. I’m not going to fuck you.”
CHAPTER TWELVE: Cain
I couldn’t believe what she was saying. Was she really so proud? Were her values really that strong? Most young singers would be capable of killing to get the chance to sleep with me for a contract.
I sat back in my chair, amused at how offended Liv looked. I could see her fighting to control her rage while she twirled the lasagna around with her fork, her blond strands sweeping down across her beautiful flushed face.
She was a challenge, and I wasn’t used to being rejected. In fact, I wasn’t used to having dinner with a woman who wasn’t throwing her panties at me by the main course. And Liv had no intention of sleeping with me? No. She would be mine. She would beg me to put her on my fuck list, beg me to fuck her.
And I would fuck her. And I would make her famous. It was the
only way she could be on my list.
“Liv,” I said softly. “I didn’t mean to offend you. You are a wonderful singer. You proved that in the studio today.” Liv glanced up. “Fucking me isn’t a condition for you to get a contract.” Now she smiled, relaxing her body against the back of her chair. “And there is no fuck list.”
“Glad to hear it,” she said. But she had stopped flirting with me and it was driving me crazy.
“But if there were, you would be on it,” I said to get her attention. “And do you know what I would do to you?”
Liv glanced at me from under her eyelashes. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“I would first kiss you.”
“Kiss me?”
I lowered my voice. “Kiss you slowly. So you feel the warmth of my tongue. Then I would kiss your neck and bite your shoulder, making your whole body shudder. I would brush my hand over those big beautiful breasts of yours and gently squeeze them until you took my hand and guided it down between your legs, your pussy already hot and wet for me.” I paused for impact. “Are you already hot and wet?”
Liv said nothing but glanced down at her hands in her lap. I was already feeling my cock twitch at the thought of touching her.
“And then I would slide my hand up your skirt and move your wet panties to one side, rub your swollen clit with the tip of my finger and make you roll your head back with pleasure. Then when you’re wet and ready for more, your pussy aching with anticipation, I would slide two fingers into your tight, wet pussy and thrust them against that magic spot until you begged me to put my cock inside of you… and fuck you.”
Liv cleared her throat. “But there is no list. And I’m not on it.”
I ignored her comment and continued, my cock hard in my pants. “And when you beg me to fuck you, I’m going to rip your panties off and ram my rock-hard cock into you. And then I’ll ram it in again. And again. And again. And you’re going to squeeze your muscles around my cock, feeling every inch of it as it slides in and out of you.”
Liv shifted in her seat, still looking down at her lap. My dirty-talk was working. She was turned on. She wanted me. “And you’re going scream as you come over and over again. And then you’re going to beg me not to stop. You’re going to beg me for more. You’re going to beg me to fuck you again. Harder and faster. And my cock is going to pleasure you all night long. Liv, I’m going to fuck you like no man has ever fucked you before.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Olivia
I drank more wine, feigning disinterest. I could not let on that he had me panting at the thought of his cock inside of me. I could not let him know that his dirty-talking made me so wet my pussy ached.
I quickly changed the subject. “So tell me how you got into the music business. Do you actually play an instrument yourself?”
Cain laughed. “You really are something, aren’t you?”
And I tried my hardest not to think about all that he had said, all that he would do to me. No. I would not fuck him. I tried hard to listen to him as he told me about his childhood experiences with music, how his father would punish him if he didn’t practice the piano every day. I felt sorry for him as he related the time he got a beating from his father when he had not played perfectly at a recital.
But then he changed the subject and told me how his first fuck was with his new piano teacher at age fifteen. “Those were my favorite lessons,” he said. And my mind returned to the images of his huge cock thrusting hard inside of me.
When we left the restaurant two hours later I was as full as a tick and more than a little drunk. Cain had to hold my hand as we climbed into the back of the limo. I fell laughing into the seat as he fell in behind me.
I sat in the seat sideways, leaning against the door and gazing at him with dreamy eyes. He gave me a smile and then told me to give the driver my address. I was a little sad to do so. It meant our night was soon to end. I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want to see him drive away, leaving me on the sidewalk all hot and bothered.
Cain blinked at me for a moment. He licked his lips and let his eyes drift to my mouth. I ran my tongue across my top lip.
He said, “You don’t have to be famous for me to fuck you.”
I leaned in and brushed my lips to his.
“Good,” I sighed. “Take me home and prove it.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Cain
It had been a long time since anyone dared me to put up or shut up. But when Olivia pressed her lips to mine and dug her fingernails into my thigh so hard it made my cock jump, the challenge was on.
I told the driver to take us to my place and break all the rules of physics to get us there as quickly as possible. On the way, we made out in the back of the limo like teenagers after the prom.
My hand went under her T-shirt to massage her big globes and rub against her nipple as it pressed against the fabric of her bra.
Her hand slid up my thigh and found my cock, which was already hard and waiting for her touch. She gripped it and moaned into my mouth as her hand slid up and down the shaft. My hand went to her crotch. I could feel the wet heat oozing from her pussy. The crotch of her jeans left my fingers damp. The air filled with her tangy scent.
“We’re here, Mr. Bohannon,” Tony, my driver, said all too quickly. I had totally forgotten he was even there. I was sure he’d gotten a good earful of Olivia’s moans and my heavy breathing. Oh well, it wasn’t the first time he’d watched me with a woman in the back of the car, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
I dug a hundred-dollar bill out of my pocket and handed it over the seat to him. He smiled at me in the rearview mirror and told me to have a good night.
I tugged Olivia out of the car and literally dragged her into my building, past the doorman, across the foyer, and into the elevator. The moment the doors closed, she pounced on me, shoving me hard against the wall, mashing her big tits into my chest, humping her cunt against my thigh, rubbing my cock through my pants.
She was the aggressor, and I’d let her play the part until we got upstairs, where I was the only alpha. Her tongue invaded my mouth, and I grabbed her ass and ground my cock into her cunt. Her moans echoed off the mirrored walls.
I was sure the doorman’s eyes were bugging out as he watched us on the security camera mounted in the ceiling of the elevator. I didn’t give a shit. I was about to explode in my pants. I would have fucked Olivia in the elevator if the doors hadn’t dinged and slid open to my penthouse. I grabbed her ass and she jumped up to wrap her legs around me. I carried her that way into my bedroom and threw her on the bed.
“Get your fucking clothes off,” I ordered, peeling off my jacket and ripping open my shirt without bothering with the buttons. I kicked off my shoes and loosened my pants and let them drop to the floor.
My cock was rock hard in anticipation of being in her mouth and her cunt. I took it in my hand and gave it a slow stroke, smiling as it grew harder and longer in my hand. I squeezed the head and little drops of juice trickled out of the slit. She pulled her shirt over her head and licked her lips when she saw my cock oozing for her.
I used my fingers to wipe the juice from the tip of my cock. Then I held the fingers to her lips. She ran her tongue across my fingers and moaned.
“Hurry up and get naked,” I ordered. “I want you to suck my cock before I shove it into your sweet pussy.”
I stood back and stroked my cock as I watched her undress. She unhooked her black bra and her big tits fell free. They were large, milky white globes with dark areolas the size of baseballs and plumb pink nipples that made my mouth water.
She kicked off her boots and lay back on the bed to shimmy out of her skinny jeans. Her cunt was shaved smooth. Her clit looked like a short pink pencil between her legs.
She sat on the edge of the bed and reached for me. I moved closer. She put her hands on my hips and glanced up into my eyes. I leaned down long enough to kiss her, and then I put my hands on her cheeks and guided her head toward me. My cock stood
stiff and ready before her lips.
“I want you to suck my big cock, Olivia,” I said. “Suck my big cock good and I’ll lick your sweet pussy for you. Fair enough?”
“Yes,” she said.
Her hands went around to grab my ass cheeks as she opened her lips and let the head of my cock slide over them. She moaned with me in her mouth and started moving her head up and down.
My cock was eleven inches long. I tried to steady my breathing as I watched her take all of it in that she could, six inches or so, stopping only when the head hit the back of her throat. She gagged once and then got into the rhythm.
She’d let the shaft slide slowly into her mouth, and then she would clamp her lips around it and draw her head back. When the head of my cock reached her lips, she swirled her tongue around it, nearly causing me to shoot my milky load all over her face.
I tightened the muscles in my legs as she dug her fingernails into my ass. This was quite possibly the best blow job I’d ever received that I didn’t have to pay for, on par with even Faleen’s magic mouth. When Liv brought her hands around to pump the shaft while her lips sucked on the head, I had to quickly step back, because I was about to come.
“It’s my turn,” I said, pushing her back on the bed. “I want to taste you. I want to suck on your clit and ram my tongue in your hole until you scream.”
“Yes,” she moaned, squeezing her breast. “Eat me, Cain. Eat my pussy now.”
I dropped to my knees and rubbed my hands on her thighs to push them apart. I smiled at the sight of her pink goodness.
She was shaved clean.
Her clit hood was long and thick.
Her pussy lips were perfect. I used my thumbs to pull back the lips so I could see her pussy hole. It glistened with juice. As she breathed, her hole pulsated, as if it were begging to be fucked.
I lowered my lips to her clit hood. I took it between my teeth and gave it a playful tug. She moaned and raised her hips to push her pussy to my mouth. I put my hands under her ass and lifted her up, braced on my elbows.
