Arousing Her

by Tia Siren

  Cain Bohannon’s infamous fuck list.

  I guessed I should have been flattered. My name was listed at number one. I guessed he hadn’t taken the time to update the list since he’d lied his way into my head, my pussy, and my life.

  Now it all made sense, his sudden interest in me, taking me under his wing, mentoring me, signing me to BEG. Fuck, why didn’t I see it before? There were a million singers more talented than me. I was just the one Cain Bohannon wanted to fuck at that moment. What happened when the new wore off and he moved on down the list? Shit, really? Taylor fucking Swift?

  I fought back the angry tears that were burning my eyes. I quickly erased my name from the list and typed in a special message for Cain. I set the phone on the conference room table and then grabbed my bag and slipped out the door.

  Cain Bohannon got what he wanted.

  And I got fucked.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN: Cain

  When I came back into the conference room, Liv wasn’t there. I turned to Drew, who had followed me in. “Did you see Liv in the hallway? Where did she go?”

  “Beats me,” he said with his usual apathy. “I was with you.” There was a cell phone on the table. Drew picked it up and slid open the screen. His mouth literally dropped open.

  He said, “Um, whose cell phone do you have in your pocket?”

  I blinked at the question. “I have my cell phone,” I said, reaching inside my jacket. I slid open the screen and then realized why he’d asked the question. “This is Liv’s phone.”

  “I think I might know why she left,” he said, handing over my phone. I stared at the screen.

  The fuck list was open.

  Liv’s name had been at the number one spot.

  Now it read: FUCK YOUR LIST AND FUCK YOU!!!!

  CHAPTER TWENTY: Olivia

  God bless Mona.

  When I showed up back at the apartment with tears in my eyes and a knife in my heart, she never once said “I told you so.” She just gave me a big hug and pulled me inside and locked the door to keep the world at bay.

  Even when I got angry and wailed about how Cain Bohannon fucked me just so he could mark me off his list, she just handed me another tissue and let me vent. That meant the world to me. There would soon be enough people laughing their asses off at the naïve young singer who had been marked off Cain’s fuck list. I didn’t need my best friend making me feel any more moronic than I already felt.

  Thankfully, Rusty gave me my old job back waitressing at the Rusty Nail. He never asked what happened or why I was back, though I was pretty sure Mona filled him in.

  Even the mohawk motherfucker was nice to me when he came in to play with his band, now called the Mohawk Motherfuckers (Des told him it was her idea, whatever). His first-prize BEG contract had yet to be signed, so we formed a kind of kinship of losers who had been screwed by Cain Bohannon and his company of evil douchebags.

  It had been a week and I hadn’t heard a word from Cain or anyone at BEG regarding the contract I had signed. Mona reminded me that Cain had my cell phone, so he couldn’t call me. Nor did he know where I lived, so he couldn’t just drop by. Though I knew he could find me if he really wanted to. And that was the point. He didn’t want to find me. He’d marked Olivia Poole off his list and moved on. Now he could focus his efforts on nailing Taylor Swift. Taylor fucking Swift. Seriously? Wasn’t she, like, twelve?

  Mona warned me that he would show up at the club, but I knew better. Cain had gotten what he wanted. I was just another starlet to be fucked and stricken from the list.

  I might have been a horny, starry-eyed little girl when I met Cain Bohannon, but not anymore. Now I was Olivia Poole, hard-nosed, punk-rocking bitch, and if he showed his face at the club, he’d leave with his balls kicked into his throat.

  * * *

  “Hey, Liv. The opening act just canceled on me,” Rusty said, rushing to the bar in panic mode. He nodded at the packed house behind him. They were already rowdy and ready for the show to start. “This fucking crowd will tear the place down if I don’t get someone onstage soon.”

  I picked up the full tray of drinks from the bar and gave him a confused look. “So why are you telling me this?”

  “I need you to go on,” he said, his hands flailing in the air. “I need you onstage now!”

  I set down the tray of drinks and shook my head at him. “Rusty, I don’t do that anymore. I’m not a singer. There is no band. I’m just a waitress.”

  “Bullshit,” he said, spitting the word. “Look, I’m sorry things didn’t work out with you and that Bohannon cocksucker, but you are a singer. You’re a great fucking singer. Don’t let what happened with that son of a bitch kill your dreams, Liv. You’re too good to let that happen.”

  “Rusty, look, Mona and Des aren’t even here and—”

  “Fuck Mona and Des!” he snapped. He took my hands and gave me a pleading look. “I need you on that stage. Now. Please. Go up and sing whatever you like. Just get up there. Please. For me.”

  I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. I hadn’t sung a note since the last session in the studio two weeks before. I’d never even been onstage alone. The prospect of it made my stomach churn. Everybody already thought I was an idiot. The last thing I needed was to get onstage and puke on the audience.

  “Liv,” he said, tugging my hands. “Please. For me.”

  “Fuck, okay,” I said, shaking my head. “Let me deliver these drinks and I’ll go up.”

  “Fuck that,” he said. He waved at Sherry, who was across the bar. “Sherry can deliver the drinks. You get your guitar and get ready to play.”

  I could taste vomit in my throat as I watched him cut through the crowd toward the stage. I asked Sherry to cover my tables for a few minutes, and then I went backstage to find a guitar.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: Olivia

  I found an acoustic guitar backstage and quickly tuned it up. Rusty looked over his shoulder at me and I gave him a nod. He stepped up to the microphone and held up his arms to the rowdy crowd.

  “Okay, okay, you bastards, quiet down. The band that was supposed to be here to open for the Mohawk Motherfuckers ain’t coming.” The crowd booed and hissed. Someone threw a beer bottle at the stage, barely missing Rusty’s head. He ignored it and continued. “Shut the fuck up, you assholes. They weren’t that good anyway. I have someone better for you to listen to.”

  The regulars knew better than to fuck with Rusty too much. He’d shut the place down and kick them all out if they got too out of hand.

  He said, “Most of you know Olivia Poole. Liv, as we call her. She was the lead singer of the Flakes and now she’s out on her own. She no longer performs in shitholes like this, but tonight she’s here as a personal favor to me.” He paused to point at the crowd. “Make her feel welcome, motherfuckers, or you’re out of here. Give it up for Olivia Poole!”

  I stepped out onto the stage to face sheer silence. Rusty was clapping, but the audience wasn’t making a sound. Rusty held out a hand to usher me over to the microphone.

  “Don’t you think that was a bit much?” I asked.

  “Just knock them dead,” he said, giving me a wink. “You can do this. I believe in you.”

  I stepped up to the microphone and cleared my throat. “Um, hi, everyone. Thanks, Rusty, for that amazing introduction…which was all bullshit, by the way.”

  A few people chuckled. Most of them were just looking at me like dogs watching a ceiling fan. I glanced to the side of the stage. Mona and Sherry were watching with smiles of encouragement. Even Des and the mohawk motherfucker gave me a thumbs-up.

  “Um, so, I normally play with a band,” I said, squinting at the bright spotlight in my eyes. “So if this sucks, I’m sorry in advance.”

  The room held its collective breath, waiting to see what I was going to do. It was just me and an acoustic guitar in front of a crowd waiting to hear a heavy metal band. I thought about what I could sing that wouldn’t get me booed off the stage. Then, as if on t
heir own, my fingers started playing “Eternal Flame” by the Bangles.

  I closed my eyes and started to sing. “Close your eyes, give me your hand, darling. Do you feel my heart beating? Do you understand? Do you feel the same? Am I only dreaming? Is this burning an eternal flame?”

  I made it through the first verse and opened my eyes, expecting to see beer bottles flying at me. But there were no beer bottles. No one was booing. No one was rushing the stage. The crowd was listening, smiling, slowly swaying.

  I glanced toward Mona. She had her hands over her cheeks. There were tears in her eyes. She gave me an encouraging smile.

  Cain Bohannon had been right about one thing.

  I was a singer.

  I could sing and touch an audience with my voice.

  And I didn’t need him to make it happen.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: Cain

  I hid in the shadows backstage with my eyes closed, listening to Olivia sing. I heard someone coming toward me. I opened my eyes to see Rusty holding out his hand.

  “Pay up, motherfucker,” he said with a grin. I reached into my pocket and counted out five one-hundred-dollar bills and set them in his hand. He folded the cash and tucked it into his jeans. I thought our deal was done, but then he stuck a thick finger in my chest and growled at me.

  “If you hurt her again, I’ll personally come to your office and rip off your head and shit down your neck. Do you understand?”

  I held up my hands in submission. I guessed the rumors were true. Rusty Nail had been a Marine drill instructor in another life. I gave him a reassuring smile.

  “Don’t worry. I will never hurt her again.”

  “All right then,” he said, giving me a nod. “See that you don’t.”

  He walked away and I moved to a spot that let me watch Olivia from behind the curtain. I glanced at the crowd. I couldn’t believe what was happening. She was singing a fucking Bangles tune to a crowd there to see a death metal act, and the crowd was mesmerized by her voice. When I’d bribed Rusty to get her onstage, I knew it was going to be a gamble. Apparently, the gamble was paying off.

  I knew I had been right about her.

  Her voice was magical.

  It crossed all genres and made people stop and listen.

  It touched them, as it had touched me.

  I could only hope that soon, her voice would be whispering sweet nothings once again in my ear.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: Olivia

  I sang two more songs and the crowd seemed to like them both. Or they might have just been scared shitless of Rusty, who stood next to the stage with his thick arms crossed over his chest and a baseball bat tucked under his arms.

  I sang “Piece of My Heart” by Janis Joplin and “Summertime,” which was going to be the first release off my album, which was now just a dream. BEG couldn’t force me to sing. I was done taking orders from Cain Bohannon.

  I thanked the crowd and hurried offstage. My performance went okay, but I’d been a bundle of nerves and it had been far from perfect. I just wanted to make it to the lady’s room where I could puke my guts out in peace. Then I could get back to work.

  “You were amazing,” a deep voice said from the backstage shadows. I turned to see Cain standing there with his hands shoved in his pockets and a pitiful look on his face. He stepped closer and gave me a smile that made my breath quake.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, holding the guitar to my breasts like a battle shield. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

  “That’s fine,” he said. “You don’t have to talk. Just listen.”

  I blinked at him for a minute. I avoided looking into his eyes. I stared at the dirty floor. “Fine. Make it fast. I have to pee.”

  “I’m sorry I lied to you about the list,” he said.

  “The fuck list that you swore to me didn’t exist?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry I lied to you,” he said, nodding slowly. “You have to understand; the list meant nothing. It was a joke, just something I did to amuse myself.”

  “So you think fucking women and striking them off your list is funny,” I said. “You think using women is funny.”

  “I didn’t say that,” he said with a sigh. “Look, in my industry, sex is a tool. People use it to get ahead and get noticed and…” He smiled and rubbed his eyes. “Jesus, I’m not making a very good case for myself, am I?”

  “No, you’re not,” I said, doing my best to stay angry even though all I wanted to do was fall into his arms. “It’s never funny, being used.”

  He frowned at me. “Is that what you think I did? Used you?”

  “What would you call it?”

  “I would call it discovering an amazingly talented singer and doing everything in my power to make her a star. Yes, we had sex, but that’s not why I did everything I’ve done for you.” He shook his head in frustration. “Do you think I’ve ever slept with a woman and then spent millions of dollars building her career? Don’t you think that if all I’d wanted to do was fuck you, we would have been done after the first night we were together?”

  I blinked away tears and rubbed my eyes. Dammit, his words made sense, but I knew he was a master manipulator. He was used to getting people to do his bidding, especially women like me. I hugged the guitar tighter because he was breaking down my defenses.

  He took another step closer and put his hands on my shoulders. “Liv, I never used you. I believe in you. I think you are the most amazing singer I’ve heard in a very long time. Look at what you just did out there. You had a Metallica crowd swaying to a fucking Janis Joplin tune. You’re a rare talent. I never used you. In fact, I spend most of my time thinking how you could use me to achieve your dreams.”

  I sighed. “You’re good,” I said. “You almost have me believing your bullshit.”

  “Fine, then believe this,” he said, reaching inside his jacket and bringing out his phone. He called up the fuck list and clicked DELETE. He held up the phone so I could see what he was doing. He tapped to confirm the DELETE and the file disappeared into the ether.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I said, giving him a little smile.

  “Yes, I did,” he said, tucking his phone back inside his jacket. “I have a new list, and there’s only one name on it. That name is yours.”

  EPILOGUE: Olivia

  I was sitting on Cain’s bed with my iPad resting on my knees, monitoring the number of downloads my first song, “Summertime,” was getting from iTunes.

  The song dropped at eight this morning, roughly twelve hours ago, and so far, it had been downloaded almost twenty thousand times. I couldn’t believe it. It seemed I had a hit on my hands. Cain had told me this was the day my life would change, and he had been right. Honestly, I was scared to death because I didn’t know how to act or what to do next. Thankfully, I had Cain to show me the way.

  “Are you still checking downloads?” Cain asked as he strolled naked into the room with a bottle of champagne and two glasses in his hands. I giggled at the sight of his long cock swinging from side to side as he moved.

  He filled both champagne glasses and handed one to me. I set aside the iPad so Cain could take its place. He straddled my knees and let his cock rest on my legs.

  He held up his glass. “To you, Olivia Poole, the newest star in the BEG musical sky.”

  I tapped my glass to his and smiled. “Thanks to you.”

  He shook his head with the glass at his lips. “Nope. I just showed you the way. You’re the one who made it happened.” He leaned forward to kiss my lips. He playfully held the cold champagne glass to my nipple, making me jump.

  “So, how shall we celebrate?” I asked. I took a sip of champagne and set the glass on the nightstand. I couldn’t resist reaching down to take his cock in my hand. I gave it a tug and it grew instantly, like a long balloon, filling my hand. I licked my lips as the head mushroomed at my touch. I slowly tugged his stiff cock back and forth as he drained his glass and tossed it onto the thick carpeted flo
or.

  “What do you have in mind?” he asked, leaning forward to kiss me again. His hands kneaded my breasts as I pulled at his cock with one hand and cupped his balls with the other. He moaned in my mouth. I could feel the hot dampness flowing from my pussy.

  “I want your big cock inside my sweet pussy,” I said with a grin, mocking him, stroking him faster. I parted my legs so I could rub the tip of his cock against my clit. “I want you to rock my world.”

  “I can do that,” he said, spreading my legs with his knees. He lifted my legs and rested them against his muscular shoulders. I rubbed my feet against his ears.

  “You can do what?” I asked, giving him an evil grin.

  “I can fuck your sweet pussy with my hard cock and rock your motherfucking world,” he said, taking his cock in hand to guide it to me. I held my breath as he slid it in. He put his hands on my knees and I wiggled my feet around his neck. He began slowly rocking his hips back and forth, going in deeper with each thrust.

  “Oh…god…yes,” I moaned, mashing my tits together until the nipples almost touched. I squeezed my nipples and arched my hips into him. I could feel his cock burrowing deep inside me. The walls of my pussy squeezed and milked him as he moved.

  “Fuck…your cock feels amazing.” I sighed, closing my eyes. “Fuck me harder, Cain. Ram that big cock into my sweet pussy.”

  “Yes,” he moaned. “Your pussy…is so…fucking…tight.”

  He tightened his grip on my knees and started slamming his cock into me. I flounced on the bed. The headboard slammed against the wall. I had to hold my tits to keep them from flopping up and down. The head of his cock kept hitting the back of my cunt. It didn’t take long for me to come. I felt like the top of my head was about to blow off.

  “Yes…god…come with me, Cain. Fill me up with your hot seed.”

  “Yes, baby…fuck. So…fucking…tight.”

  Cain groaned as he filled me with his hot, milky goodness. I could feel it coating my pussy, wet, sticky, hot. My body shuddered against him. I came in a wave, squirting him with my juices, soaking his cock and balls and the bed beneath us.