The Things You Make Me Feel Ch. 07

"Oliver, no! Please step away. I'm begging you!"

Her pleas fell on deaf ears as Oliver kept glaring into Jason's wrathful eyes.

"Oliver, look at me!" She pressed her sinuous body to his and palmed his temples, her eyes desperately seeking his. "I said look at me!"

Oliver made the error of sneaking a peek into Ellie's fiery blue eyes, and just like with Medusa, the famous mythological gorgon, there could be no looking away. He might not have turned to stone, but transfixed by the bewitching blue in her catlike eyes, it was over for him. His sister had complete control over him now.

"He didn't mean it, Oliver. He didn't mean it. Now please step back." She waited for him to move, in vain. "Oliver, I said step back. Now!"

Her brother swallowed his pride and allowed Ellie to push him back. Her eyes didn't break contact with his until he was in a safe distance from his nemesis.

"Thank you, baby. I love you," she whispered away from prying ears.

Ellie agreed to accompany Jason, but it was too late for that now. It was a Hail Mary anyway, and Jason wanted vengeance. There was no way for him to win now anyway, not after her fucking baby bro put himself in the middle. And just like months ago, he found himself in a catch-22. If he got into a fight with him, he would lose, no matter the outcome. If he let it slide, he would lose, being named Oliver's bitch.

"You, me -- outside. Now."

"Finally," Oliver hissed back.

"Forget it!" Ellie shoved her brother back. "Jason, we are so done... and I swear to you that I'm gonna press charges if you touch him. Do you understand me? I'll make sure you'll have a criminal record opened if you don't leave now, right at this second."

Jason shook his head at her in disgust, his pain feeding on her behavior. "I can't believe I was gonna marry a fucking whore like you. Go fuck yourse—"

Witnessing Oliver beginning his furious march, Jason knew that there would be bloodshed tonight. The amount of rage that had been building and festering inside him since the week before needed to be released. And what better way than to take down the smug punk that had cost him his relationship with the most amazing girl he would ever have the chance to date.

He channeled his fury to his fist and charged forward to rocket it into Oliver's face. He brushed Ellie aside when she tried placing herself in the middle for the second time tonight and inadvertently made her trip and fall as she was no match to his bulging arm, and with her sex-impacted limp, even less so.

An elite combatant needs to be able to prioritize on the go, to alter one's objectives according to the constant-shifting image of the battleground, but above all -- to remove civilians from danger, and although a green brawler, Oliver was agile and quick-thinker. Watching the woman he loved a split second away from bashing her head against the chamfered corner of the table, he abruptly changed course and reached for her, knowing he would pay for it dearly.

Jason's fist was following a perfect trajectory straight into Oliver's ribs. Since his head was unreachable—due to his amazing catch of his sister—his ribs would have to do. He would get his face later. Just as Ellie landed in her brother's straining arms, Jason's doom-spelling fist grazed Oliver's ribs.

Although damaging, it was not the shot either of them had prepared himself for. It was much more lenient and lacked its original promise of internal bleeding. The reason became clear when Dave reloaded his fist, targeting Jason's back for the second time. Dave's thump had managed to steer Jason's blow off course, just enough to allow his brother to escape a long night in the ER with broken ribs.

Like Oliver, Jason was demonstrating many of the qualities of a skilled bar-fighter. He glimpsed behind him and watched Dave prepping a more devastating blow. He thought to counter it, but a blur in the corner of his left eye gave away the fierce punch his friend Greg had already launched at Dave, which allowed him to resume pounding Oliver into submission.

He set his eyes on the lucky bastard that had managed to elude roughly 40% of the force of his clout, ready to end him, yet the battlefield had completely shifted during the four-tenths of a second Oliver escaped his eyes. Ellie was twirling away from her lover's arms as if in a dancing number, and Jason realized it would come down to sheer speed. Whoever released his blow first would gain a significant advantage for the rest of this quarrel.

Pound per pound, Jason was the stronger of the two. If he managed to give Oliver the full taste of his fury, it was unlikely Ellie's brother were to recover; however, he still needed to land his welt first. Both men drew back their righties for maximum piercing force while Ellie twirled away from the battle to the safety of the chairs, where her girlfriends awaited with open arms to snatch her. Oliver's ribs were giving him a hard time mid-spring, and he knew he wouldn't be able to pack a strong enough punch to neutralize his aggressor. Jason had fractured at least one of his ribs, Oliver could easily feel, and his motion had been compromised.

While fighting his own ribs, Oliver sifted out one attacking ploy after another until being left with a single conceivable assault strategy: he needed to end the fight on his first hit, or Jason would end him. He forsook his fist-draw and instantly lunched a tiger strike, the way a kung fu martial artist would. His fingers curled to form a claw-like shape and were closing in fast on still fist-loading Jason. Ellie's ex-fiancé released his tension-packed fist, knowing he would terminate her brother for certain upon impact. Although deploying second, Jason's fist was quicker than Oliver's tiger strike as the latter was struggling to build both speed and power on account of his aching ribs.

It was that moment now: The Smug Punk vs Oliver's Bitch. One of them would get to keep his endearment forever.

Jason's fist was exponentially faster than Oliver's tiger-claw, but it appeared that he did launch a split second too late and would need to withstand Oliver's strike. Well, no matter, Jason thought. Oliver's blow still needed to be lethal in order to stop his bulging knuckles from reshaping his pretty face.

The momentum of Ellie's salsa-twirl was absorbed in Kara and Lindsey's arms, her bosom facing the boys. Her blue eyes just barely registered Oliver's talon as she goggled at the two clashing. The claw found her ex-lover's nose, driving the bone in. A satisfying crackle warned that Jason might need plastic surgery if that bone didn't heal right.

Jason's fist was losing speed drastically until it levitated in the air a thousandth of an inch away from Oliver's skin. It plummeted a second later while unclenching. Oliver released Jason's nose from his ferocious talon, and blood spewed down Jason's mouth and chin in gushes. His once ominous fist was reduced to nothing but a handkerchief to his broken nose as he keened at the ache of his crushed nasal septum.

Two seconds of fluster followed another one of those squeals since an unversed Oliver wasn't sure what to do. Last he took part in a fight was somewhere in elementary school, and he certainly never broke anyone's bones then. Heck, he wasn't convinced he did now.

That is until Oliver's Bitch snarled, "You mother fucker! You broke my nose... you are fucking dead meat!"

Oliver could see the rage building in his bitch once more, and he knew he had to finish him off before he might face a similar fate. He quickly got his hands around the scruff of Jason's neck in a strong clinch, his elbows producing a ninety-degree bend. He kept Jason locked in his clinch like an expert kickboxer and planted his right foot way behind him.

Simultaneously, he pulled Jason's neck down and hurled his right knee up. Jason's bloody nose smudged Oliver's designer jeans exactly where his knee was. Both men groaned, Oliver at the strain on his fractured ribs, and his bitch at his nose being mashed into pulp. Jason dropped like a heavy tree being fell and didn't rise again.

Realizing he prevailed, Oliver almost started break-dancing, though just almost. He saw his brothers grappling with their opponents on the ground and briskly went to work. He aided Dave first by pulling Greg off of him and sending two jabs to his face before leaving the wrap-up to his brother. Jack had the upper hand on Daniel, but Oliver was done watching the children playing.

He stomped hard on Daniel's stomach and kneed him in the face when his upper torso sprang up. Intoxicated with power, he let Jack rest and mutilated Daniel's face with quick pounds. When Daniel looked like the hideous cousin of the person who had entered the bar, Oliver released his head from his clutch. He walked past Dave, who was still feeding Greg's face his fists, and hovered over Jason.

"No one talks to her like that," he breathed. He spat down on the swollen, purple mass that was once his nose and looked for Ellie, who was gawking at him in the exact same way the other girls were. "Are you alri—"

The enormous bouncer jumped him from behind and clutched his hands together behind his back. He led him out and threw him onto the sooty sidewalk. His brothers were soon thrown out, as well, followed by the beaten trio. The two camps exchanged harsh words and threats before Jason needed to be rushed to the hospital to attend to his violet bulge.

"Fuck yes!" Dave yipped, elated at their uncontested win. "Oh my god, that was intense!"

Jack joined him in celebration, high on adrenaline.

Oliver remained lying on the sidewalk while holding his bruised ribs when the girls exited the bar. The bouncer only exacerbated the pain when throwing him on the hard asphalt. He expected his brothers—given their struggles—to be in worse shape, but confoundedly, they were hardly damaged.

"Oh my god, Oliver!" Ellie exclaimed and knelt beside him. "Are you okay?" She kissed his cheeks passionately while caressing his hair, yet she quickly stopped when realizing they had an audience.

"I'm fine," her brother sighed and tried sitting up. Now that the adrenaline was fading, it was anything but trivial.

"Here, let me help you," Ellie said, pulling him until he was sitting upright.

He held his left side, grimacing at the ache. "That son of a bitch got my ribs."

"But you got his face!" Dave said. "You totally annihilated him, Bro!"

"I did, didn't I," Oliver said in a chuckle before he groaned in pain. "Thanks to you."

Dave grinned, taking pride in the key part he'd played.

"Come on, dude, get up." Jack hooked his arms under Oliver's armpits and hoisted him to his feet. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Yeah... it just hurts a little."

"Here," Ellie said, handing him a few wipes to clean Jason's blood off his hands.

"You've got some mean temper," Lyndsey said while he was getting himself cleaned.

"Well"—he looked at the blond hottie—"no one's allowed to touch my sister like that."

Ellie had to pull out all the stops not to shove her tongue in his sweet mouth right then and there.

"Well, I for one will be sure to keep that in mind," Dayna quipped, which made everyone laugh.

"None of this would've happened if it weren't for this knucklehead," Oliver groused, motioning at his big brother.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Jack said. "I honestly thought I was helping."

Gena stroked his hair in understanding. "I think it's safe to say it's time to call it a night."

"Agreed," Lyndsey said.

"Shotgun!" Dave said.

"As if," Gena giggled.

"Come on, Oliver," Jack said.

"No!" Ellie gripped her kid bro's arm. "He's riding with me."

Dave smiled knowingly at her, but she pretended not to see it.

"With you?" Gena said. "Didn't Lindsey drive us here?"

"Yeah, but my car is still here. I left it here on Friday night because I was too drunk to drive."

Jack coiled his arm over Gena's shoulder. "Alright then. Drive safely."

*

Ellie and Oliver walked to Ellie's car alongside Kara and Lyndsey, who had parked not far from Ellie. Dayna lived in the city, so she'd bid them farewell earlier. Ellie had her arm hooked in Oliver's the way a girlfriend would while they were stealing tense glances at one another.

"You might wanna take tomorrow off work to rest," Kara said when noting Oliver's occasional wince.

"That might be a good idea, Oliver," Ellie concurred.

"It's not that bad," he said, playing down his pain. "Besides, I've already taken tomorrow off."

"When?" Ellie asked with a surprise look, though really wanting to ask why he didn't tell her, so she would skip work, too.

"After I put Michela to sleep." He got Ellie up to speed on what his daughter had said earlier when he'd been bathing her. "So I'm not going to rest anyway. I want her to have fun tomorrow."

"I can't believe she's been feeling that," Ellie murmured, feeling awful for her part in all of this.

"It must be so difficult raising a child on your own," Lyndsey said. "Liam and I are planning to start our family soon, and I gotta admit that as much as I want to, I'm terrified."

"Don't be," Oliver said. "It's the most amazing thing in the world."

Ellie's cherry red lips curved up, and a wave of excitement and hope swept across her bust.

"Yeah?" Lindsay said, seeking reassurance.

"Oh, yeah," Oliver said with a huge grin. "When you see this perfect living thing that you have helped bring into the world... when you see her growing up, starting to crawl, taking her first steps... when she calls you 'Daddy'—or in your case, 'Mommy'—for the first time..." He bit on his bottom lip with a wistful smile. "I can't even explain it to you."

"I think you've explained it just fine," Lyndsey said with a kind smile.

"So do I," Ellie said, unable to tame her grin.

Oliver smiled, dwelling on Michela.

"Would you want more kids?" Lyndsey asked. "Or is your daughter enough?"

"Oh, she's more than enough. Just thinking about going back to diapers and sleepless nights..." He chuckled. "No, thanks."

Ellie's grin instantly perished, her heart contorting at his vicious words.

"You've failed to mention that part when you sold it so convincingly before," Lyndsey said in mirth.

He laughed. "No, don't let it discourage you. And even though some aspects of parenting are less pleasurable than others, in retrospect, they are all remembered fondly nonetheless."

"Even changing diapers?"

"Yes," he chuckled. "Even changing diapers."

They walked in silence for a spell.

"Is everything alright with you?" Kara said when noticing Ellie's pensiveness. "Earth to Ellie..."

"What?"

"Welcome back," Kara giggled. "Where have you been?"

"Oh, I'm just... thinking about everything that has happened tonight."

"Jason?"

"Yeah," she lied. "I just can't wait to get him out of my condo and out of my life."

"I hear ya. You gave him till Thursday though, didn't you? To clear out?"

"Oh, there's no chance I'm waiting till Thursday, not after tonight. I'll swing by there tomorrow or the next day, pack his shit into boxes, and change locks. The thought of him staying at my place is too hard to bear."

"I'm coming with you," Oliver said, his tone brooking no opposition.

Ellie shot him a sexy smirk, loving how protective he was of her. "Obviously..."

"That's you, Ellie," Kara said, pointing at her car. "You can't miss it with those red stripes and roof. Such an eye-popper."

Ellie's black-and-red Mini Cooper was indeed striking, and like its owner, it simply could not be ignored.

"There's El Diablo!" Oliver jested.

"Oh, shut up," Ellie said. "You know you love that car."

Lyndsey and Kara said their goodbyes, and the siblings walked up to Satan's car as Oliver enjoyed calling it.

"Shit, Ellie!" he whimpered, when his sister thrust him carelessly at the car. "My ribs!"

"What the fuck were you thinking, getting into a fight with him?!"

Oliver winced, holding his aching side. "I... I was—"

Ellie jumped her brother like a promiscuous teen, slapping her succulent lips on his. Oliver immediately forgot all about his ribs and enveloped her slim waist while opening his mouth for her tongue to spiral into. His sister wound her arms around his neck in quite the body-lock, aching to feel more of him.

It was open season on Oliver's mouth as he desperately gasped into his sister's kiss, trying to suck in some air along with her spit. A few obscene sucks later, his gorgeous blonde permitted him to breathe again, gradually taking down the power of her kiss. Her blue eyes glistened as she gazed into his bright brown eyes, loving how snugly he was holding her.

"Regarding your question: I was thinking about you," Oliver confessed in an undertone while running his fingers in her golden mane. "That's all I do these days, Ellie... thinking about you."

"Oliver, you can't go crazy like that," she murmured before she repeatedly kissed his lips. "I would die if something happened to you; besides, it certainly wasn't the first time a guy ever called me a whore."

"It was definitely the last."

She shrugged. "So what, you're gonna beat up every guy that ever—"

"Yes."

She cupped his cheek, his words melting her heart. "Baby..."

"You're my goddess, Ellie." He rested his forehead on hers and sighed. "Don't you know it by now?"

His hopeless romanticism and strong hard-on were driving Ellie wild. "Fuck this."

In smut-brimming eyes, she unlocked her car and shoved her brother into the passenger seat as if she were kidnapping him.

"Fuck!" his ribs moaned via his mouth as he flopped in. "Ellie, god damn it! Didn't I make it clear that I'm hurting?!"

But his sister could not care less. She crammed herself in when straddling him and slammed the door shut. "Push the seat back all the way, ditto on the backrest, and do both fast."

The depravity in her eyes and voice were not to be contested. Oliver hit both marks in less than three seconds, and he did so while housing his sister's loose tongue in his mouth. He wasn't, however, the only one in the family who was blessed with superb multitasking capabilities. While pillaging his mouth, his goddess finished unbuttoning his jeans, and when he was lying back, she tugged them down to his knees along with his boxer briefs.

"You're so beautiful," she cooed, her hungry eyes raking over his plump erection.

She stacked up on spit and released it down her brother's dick in a long, straining rope. Once it broke from her lips, she gave Oliver's cock-head a few tugs, loving how thick and warm it felt in her sticky fingers.

She took off her jacket and hiked up her dress. "Rip my thong off."

Oliver had yet to get the chance to witness the plethora of Ellie's sexy lingerie, but in the short time he'd been doing her, he noticed that thongs were her preferred choice of undergarments. Specifically, lace thongs that covered approximately a third of her sculptured buns, and as he hooked his fingers into her waistband, he couldn't but admire her exquisite figure. His sister was built to generate monster-boners.

"Angel, I'd really hate to do this." He stared down painfully at her pretty black thong. "You wear it like—"

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll have a new one on me by tomorrow, I swear." She kissed him in the same vulgar way she had been kissing him from the second they had their privacy and covered his hands with hers encouragingly. "Now set me free."

Her choice of words had nice dirty ring to it, Oliver had to admit. He pulled hard, tearing his sister's magnificent thong apart, and pulled the torn fabric to his nose for a much-needed sniff. Ellie smiled excitedly at him as he did that, loving that he needed to smell her plentiful discharge—as watching him fighting over her before had gotten her seriously leaking for him.