Burning Up

by Marie Coulson

  “The guys are kind of a big deal around here now. The freshmen girls at college can’t seem to get enough of them.”

  Spotting our booth, Amy fisted her hands on her hips and scowled as she stormed over and quickly evicted the three girls who were occupying it. Mel and I chuckled at her as we followed and slid ourselves into our seats. The whole place was buzzing. Leaning across the table, I tapped Amy on the hand.

  “Is everyone seriously here for DOA?”

  She nodded enthusiastically. “Didn’t you hear? They were head hunted by some record company in England. Apparently the boss saw them perform here once and loved their whole style, set list, and offered them a contract. It was amazing!”

  “What about you two? You’re a part of DOA, too.”

  Mel snorted a laugh. “They didn’t want a mixed group. Ollie refused the contract at first and told them we all go or none of us do. But we told him to just go for it. It’s not like it’s the career either of us wanted, and I’d hate to make it one. It’s fun and a hobby. I’ll stick to college, thanks.”

  Amy nodded in agreement. “It’s their dream. Not ours. Eric’s been pushing them and sending out CDs all over. I think he was a little pissed that what actually snagged them a deal was Ollie.”

  I gave them a mystified look.

  “He’s hot. The record company boss is a chick. She thought Ollie was hot and decided to sign them. Nick didn’t give shit as long as it got him paid and laid,” Mel explained.

  So Ollie really was in London on business. I mentally rolled my eyes at myself. Of course he wasn’t there for you, Layla. Why would he be? You’re hardly his favorite person these days. Caught up in my thoughts, I jumped slightly as a pair of sneakers brushed past my face, barely missing me. They were attached to a smug and scruffy looking drummer. Jumping over the booth, he slumped into his usual seat and draped his thick, tattooed arm around my shoulder.

  “Well, fuck me! Ollie said you were back in town, but I didn’t think you’d show up here.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Last I checked it was a free country, Nick.”

  Picking up his hand, I removed it from my shoulder.

  “And last I checked, you were in Europe. What happened? You miss me too much?”

  I snorted. “Nick, I missed you like a mongoose misses a snake.”

  “You missed my snake, huh?”

  Urgh.

  “Nick, shut the fuck up. Snake. No one misses that maggot you got dangling in your pants,” Amy spat at him.

  He feigned insult and held his palm to his chest. “Man down! I’m hit. The lesbian has penis envy.”

  A hand swatted Nick across the head, and placing his beer on the table, Ollie leapt over the back of the booth and slid in next to me.

  “Douche. There’s not a lot to be jealous of. Mel’s dick is bigger than yours.”

  Eric laughed as he joined us at the table while Mel sat back in her seat and grinned. “More man than you three will ever be.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. It was all so … normal. The exchange of insults that no one actually meant. The way the three guys talked about music and wrote song choices on napkins. It was as though I’d never left, but I had. I had left and when I left, one thing had changed for sure. Ollie.

  Sitting silently next to me, he picked and peeled the label from his beer bottle. I sat rigidly and awkwardly. I didn’t know how to act around him anymore. He wasn’t the Ollie I remembered. Leaning across me, he reached for another beer and flicked the cap off. It landed on my lap, and reaching for it, Ollie placed his hand on my thigh. My body instantly heated. His hand lingered a moment before he grabbed the cap and tossed it on the table. His eyes caught mine, and the corner of his mouth curved up as he pressed the bottle to it, and his lip ring pinched as he smiled. Putting down his beer, he leaned into my ear.

  “Calm down. It was just a bottle cap. I’m not about to drag you into the bathroom and fuck you against the wall.”

  My heart skipped a beat as my memory flashed images of the two of us, hot, sweaty, and going at it in the bathroom that night. It was … intense.

  I tried to seem unaffected by him. “What makes you think I’d go with you?”

  Grinning mischievously, he glanced around the table to see if we were being watched. Amy, Mel, and the guys were too engrossed in arguing over the choice of songs Eric had selected. Biting down on his lip ring, he moaned deeply.

  “I don’t think you would go with me, Layla. I know you would. You think I don’t know when you’re hot and turned on? I made it my business to see the signs.”

  I could feel my cheeks flush, and quickly I climbed over him and out of the booth.

  “I need the bathroom,” I mouthed to Amy and Mel who nodded briefly to acknowledge me but quickly resumed their argument with Eric and Nick over music. Making my escape, I hurried to the solace of the ladies’ bathroom and breathed a sigh of relief. How did he still have this effect on me?

  Resting back against the sink, I stared at the wall opposite. Thoughts, visions, and memories of Ollie’s hands on my body flooded my brain. His firm grasp on my thighs as he hoisted me up and slid inside of me. His big, hard, and oh so perfect cock filling me up. I’d never experienced sex like it. It was hot, passionate, and filled with lust yet loving and gentle at the same time. He’d been so caring and wanted so much to make me happy. It was a vast contrast to the sex I’d always had with Jared. Oh, don’t get me wrong, Jared could be sweet and loving, but it was always one extreme to the other. Either we were making love or we were fucking. With Ollie, it had been something between the two. I couldn’t even describe it exactly, but when you’ve experienced it, you remember it forever. I could feel my blood warming and a throbbing began to call to me from between my thighs. My body remembered the pleasure, too.

  Turning around, I looked down at the sink and ran the cold water, splashing a little on my red and burning cheeks. The bathroom door creaked open behind me, but I didn’t look up. The sound of the lock clicked, and I instantly knew who it was.

  “You look a little flustered. What’s got you all hot and bothered?”

  I closed my eyes tightly and grimaced. Damn him. Spinning around, I glared at Ollie.

  “What do you want, Ollie?”

  Slowly walking over to me, he pressed his body against mine, forcing me to lean back over the sink. The back of my head rested on the mirror.

  “Why do you keep running away? Are you scared to be near me?”

  I shook my head but couldn’t tear my gaze away from his.

  “I’m not scared to be near you, Ollie. I choose not to be.”

  He chuckled deeply. “Why?”

  Irritated, I pressed my palm against his chest while the other supported my balance on the sink.

  “You think you know me so well. You think I don’t know what you’re doing? The kisses, the games, the teasing, are you trying to make me suffer?”

  Pushing away from me, he threw his head back and laughed.

  “Suffer? You think that’s suffering? Layla, you ripped my heart out and trampled on it all the way to Europe!”

  He slammed his fist on the bathroom door and growled.

  “Do you know how hard it is to be around you? Half the time I want to yell in your face and make you miserable, and the other half, I want to rip your clothes off and fuck you till you’re screaming!”

  My heart pounded in my chest as the tension between us grew.

  I swept my hair from my face and breathed heavily as anger, lust, and confusion swirled inside of me.

  “What am I supposed to do, Ollie? If you want me to go, say so. But for the love of fucking God, stop torturing me!”

  Storming over, he stared at me with fire in his eyes and gripped my hips. Lifting me up, he sat me on the sink and pressed his hips against mine. My skirt hitched to my waist, and I could feel his hard length pressing against my sex. His right hand left my hip and swiftly grasped a handful of my hair, yanking my head back to expo
se my neck. His lips hungrily kissed and licked across my skin, and the cool steel of his lip ring sent a shiver through me. My chest rose and fell heavily and my feet hooked around his behind, urging him closer. His mouth trailed kisses to my ear.

  “You want to know what torture is, Layla?” Releasing my hair, he took my hand in his and thrust it into the front of his jeans. I gasped as my fingers folded around his thick, long, solid cock.

  “That is torture. I want to fuck you, Layla. I want to fuck you till you beg me to stop. I want to fuck you until my name is the only word you can speak. I want to make you come over and over until you can’t walk. I know every inch of your hot, tight little body.”

  I could hardly breathe. My hand glided up and down his shaft as his words fueled my arousal. His hand slipped up my skirt and grazed the lace of my panties. He grinned wickedly.

  “And you want me, too.”

  I shook my head as I panted, gazing into his eyes.

  “No.”

  He snickered breathlessly. “Don’t lie to me, Layla. I can feel it.”

  I bit my lip and closed my eyes as his thumb pressed gently against my throbbing clit through my panties.

  “Say it, Layla.”

  My head fell back, and as his lips caressed the curve of my cleavage, I succumbed.

  “I want you,” I whispered.

  Ollie’s tongue dipped between my breasts and I hissed at the pleasurable sensation.

  “Louder,” he demanded as gentle and teasing lips moved slowly up to my mouth, biting gently on my bottom lip, and grazing it with his tongue. I was so worked up, so hot, that I was sure the coolness of his lip ring would hiss and fizzle like ice on a hotplate. I took a deep breath and swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat.

  “I want you!”

  Instantly pulling away from me, Ollie stood a few feet away and stared at me. He was panting. Smirking, he shook his head and laughed.

  I couldn’t find words. I was bereft and left wanting.

  Marching over, his nose pressed against mine.

  “That, Layla. Is torture.”

  I felt as though the air had been ripped from my lungs. Skirting around him, I unlocked the bathroom door. He reached out and caught my elbow as I was about to pull the damn thing open and walk out on his ass.

  “Don’t be sour with me. Isn’t this what we do?”

  I gave him a confused and disgruntled look.

  “It seems one way or another, whenever we’re together, one of us gets screwed somehow. Just this time, you don’t get to come when I screw you.”

  Yanking my arm from his grasp, I glowered at him. “You are such an asshole.”

  Snickering, he pulled the door open and held it for me to exit.

  “Boohoo, Layla. Don’t like it, go back to your perfect little set up, money, shiny car, and big fucking social status in Europe. Oh, wait, that’s right, there isn’t one.”

  Fuming, I turned on my heel and stomped back to our booth. Amy and Mel raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me. I shook my head in warning.

  “Don’t ask.”

  A ghost of a smile spread across Amy’s face and the two of them exchanged a knowing look.

  “Oh, we weren’t going to. By the way, your lipstick is smudged.”

  I rubbed at the area around my mouth to clear away the remainder of my lipstick. Damn it. The screech of the microphone caught my attention and the house lights dimmed slightly as the spotlight moved across the bar to the stage. Eric, Nick, and Ollie were setting up, and as I watched them, I felt a pang of regret. Friday nights were when we would all be on that stage together. I remembered the way Ollie would look at me, sing to me, and smile. It was a vast contrast to what was happening between us now. Tapping on the mic twice, he cleared his throat and slipped his white guitar over his shoulder.

  “We’re gonna start with a favorite of mine. This goes out to an old friend who just came back into town.”

  Oh great. I shot Mel and Amy a worried look but they each just shrugged.

  “Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe he’s over it,” Amy offered optimistically.

  It was very optimistic and as the guys began to play, my stomach churned. Gives You Hell by The All American Rejects. I turned back to Amy who shifted awkwardly in her seat.

  “Or maybe he’s not so over it.”

  Folding my arms on the table, I dropped my head onto them and slammed it a few times in frustration.

  “Don’t be so dramatic, Layla,” Amy said as she clutched a handful of my hair to stop me from banging it again.

  Deciding not to let Ollie’s choice of song get to me, I stood, grabbed one of the shots of tequila Mel had bought while I was in the bathroom, and swallowed it in one gulp before slamming the empty glass on the table. Quickly smiling at the girls, I spun around and headed for the stage. Thanking the audience, Ollie grinned at his band mates, but catching me stomping up the steps to the stage, he looked me up and down and rolled his eyes. The crowd was dispersing away from us. Standing toe to toe with him, I raged at him.

  “You think you’re so funny, huh? With your mind games, sexual teasing …“

  “Sexual teasing? I want in on those games!” Nick hollered from across the stage.

  I flipped him the bird before continuing my tirade at Ollie.

  “I get it, you’re bitter and you’re pissed at me. Now can we grow the fuck up?”

  Pressing his nose against mine, he smirked.

  “You got something you need to get off your chest? Go ahead.” He gestured at the mic and stood aside, almost daring me to take it. I looked over at Mel and Amy who immediately got to their feet and hurried over to join me. I skirted around Ollie and grabbed the mic. The high-pitched squeal caught the crowd’s attention, and suddenly a familiar adrenaline was coursing through my body. I was back on a stage, under a spotlight with my band and my girls. I felt like I was officially back home. Whistling at Eric, I curved my finger and signaled for him to come over. He gave Ollie a nervous glance before sauntering over. Whispering into his ear, I told him my song of choice. The corner of his mouth curved up slightly as he nodded and began playing the intro to Hit Me With Your Best Shot by Pat Benatar.

  I toyed and played with the mic as I sang each lyric, casually casting my eyes over at Ollie every now and then. He’d retreated to the booth, and sipping at his beer, he watched me intensely. Licking my lips and stroking the mic stand, I teased, danced, and threw myself into my performance. Amy and Mel backed me up with vocals, and I was sure that they probably approved of my choice of music. Ollie bit his bottom lip and shook his head gently, shifting in his seat as he watched me. When we were done, I left the stage with a feeling of triumph and victory. Mel and Amy rushed to my side and each draped an arm over my shoulder.

  “That was so much fun. Did you see his face? I think he was a second away from actually coming in his pants,” Mel teased.

  Amy cringed. “Eww … though I bet that warm-up in the bathroom probably helped rev his engine.”

  I laughed sarcastically. “Nothing happened in the bathroom.”

  Mel rolled her eyes. “Sure it didn’t.”

  I was clearly not going to win. Reaching our booth, I glared at Ollie who grinned at me with a distinct expression of enjoyment.

  “Nice performance, Jennings.”

  Sliding into my seat, I shrugged. “I’m a hell of a performer.”

  He nodded in agreement. “That mouth of yours sure has some talent.”

  Cocky asshole.

  Ollie and I didn’t speak for the rest of the night. I was too pissed at him to even find the words. Every now and then he would shoot me a playful smile or cocky grin, but it only fueled my anger. He’d changed so much that I hardly recognized the guy that was sitting across from me. Drowning my sorrows in cosmopolitans, I tried to forget the disaster movie that was my life. The lights in the bar came up, and as people began to filter out, Eric, Nick, Mel, and Amy made their way toward the door. My head spun from the alcohol and the
brightness of the lights. Sliding out of the booth, I moved to stand but catching my heel on the leg of the table, I stumbled and tripped over the edge of the booth. A hand reached out and caught me under the arm, and looking up, I saw Ollie smiling down at me.

  “You’re drunk off your ass.”

  I giggled and shook my head. “I’m fine. I just need to go home and go to sleep.”

  Ollie looked at me disapprovingly. “I don’t think you should go home tonight. Your parents shouldn’t see you like this.”

  I gave him a confused look.

  “Come on, super star.”

  Hooking his arm under my legs, he lifted me from the floor and carried me out of the bar. I tried to protest, but my eyes were getting heavy and my need to sleep off my booze was over powering. Wrapping my arms around Ollie’s neck, I snuggled in to his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you, Ollie,” I slurred.

  Sighing deeply, he nodded and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I know, baby. I know.”

  Chapter 23

  Road Trip

  Opening my eyes, I squinted and winced as the bright sunlight streamed through the window and onto my face. My head was fuzzy and the pounding in my temple was blurring my vision. Jared was right; I really couldn’t drink. Well, getting it down my throat wasn’t the problem; it was surviving the withdrawal the next day that knocked me on my ass. Throwing my forearm across my eyes, I groaned and shifted uncomfortably. A strong, thick arm draped around my waist, and removing it, I glanced over and found a mop of dark long hair and the glimmer of an eyebrow ring beside me. Oh God.

  Gently taking his arm off of me, I slid from the leather couch and out of Ollie’s reach. I looked down at myself and felt a distinct feeling of unease to see that I was wearing only my underwear. A blanket covered Ollie, but I could see he was at least shirtless. The tattoo on his arm caught my eye and moving a little closer; I inspected it. It was a heart puzzle, but a piece was missing. The words, “You are the missing piece of my heart,” were written across it. I felt a pang of jealousy. Whoever the ink was honoring, they were incredibly lucky. Ollie Green was a hopeless romantic. My back rested against the couch as I rubbed my eyes and took a long, deep breath. I scanned my surroundings and breathed a sigh of relief as I realized I was at Amy and Mel’s apartment. Trying desperately to be silent, I got to my feet and crept toward the kitchen. A floorboard creaked beneath my feet and cringing, I turned around to find Ollie leaning on his elbow and smiling at me.