The Big O (An OTT Insta-love STANDALONE) (15 page)

I
got down on my knees and folded my head over the toilet. A cold sweat bathed me as everything that was in my stomach or on its way, including my custard donut, found its way into the basin. I puked till I could puke no more. Tears streaming, I flushed and then rose to my feet still feeling sick and unsteady. The sweet taste in my mouth from the sugary donut and Owen’s kiss was replaced by a foul one. My throat raw, I slumped to the bank of sinks to wash up, cleanse my mouth, and splash a little cold water on my face.

Rising, I took a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked ghastly. My eyes were glazed over, and my complexion was the color of puce. I thought I’d left my past behind in Barstow, but it had followed me here. With the advent of the Internet, bygones, even the smallest town news, could never truly disappear if one dug deep. Mallory, the ultimate researcher, had dug deep. She wanted to destroy me. My future here at Donut King was over. There was no way Owen or Jaime would ever want me to be The Big O Girl. I couldn’t even fathom remaining Owen’s assistant with what he now knew. How could he want a girl like me? My hand flew to my aching heart at the realization that my twenty-four hour fairy tale was over before I even got to turn a page. I braced myself to say goodbye to the man I loved and to everything I was leaving behind.

Sobbing, I bent over again to splash some more water on my face. When I looked up, another face met mine in the mirror. Clint! That same smug smirk she wore as she was about to expose my secret clashed with my gaze. She snorted.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the
former
Big O Girl. Guess you’ll be needing a new job. I don’t even know what possessed Owen to hire you in the first place. When I left the meeting, he was finally coming to his senses. Thank goodness, he had the smarts to hire me and save him all the public humiliation the company would face when your past came out in the open. Can you imagine the big fat scandal?”

I tried to swallow my anguish—all the hurt—past the giant lump in my throat, but I couldn’t. Another giant wave of nausea was rising in my chest. I pivoted on my heel to escape the bathroom, but as I did, a rush of vomit flew out of my mouth with such force it exploded all over Mallory. She was covered in it. All the revolting little bits and pieces. A piercing shriek spilled out of her gaping mouth.

“Oh my God! You’ve ruined my new suit. You fucking fat bitch!” Her face contorted with disgust and disdain as I ran out of the bathroom without apologizing…

Right into the powerful arms of Owen King.

“O
live,” I said softly, holding her in my arms.

“Please, Owen, let me go,” she sobbed out, tears pouring down her face. She looked totally distraught, her face a Technicolor patchwork of ghoulish hues, her hair damp and matted. “I should have told you about my past.”

I moved my hands to her heaving shoulders, gripping them firmly. “Jesus, my princess. We’ve known each other for a little more than twenty-four hours. How could you tell me everything?”

“I should have told you,” she repeated, her voice a mere rasp. “Please accept my apology and resignation. Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I’ll always remember you. Always.” Her pale lips quivered.

“What are you talking about, Olive?”

“I’m not good enough for you, Owen. You deserve better. I’m leaving.”

My lips pinched as I held her fiercely in my gaze. “You’re not going anywhere, Olive Cumming, except coming home with me.”

“Please, Owen. I can’t.”

As Olive jerked her tear-soaked faced away from me, the door to the ladies’ room swung open. Clint marched out. Fucking Clint. What had she told my sweetheart? Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. She had made her sick.

“It’s over, Owen. I’m saying goodbye,” sniffled an oblivious Olive as Clint stood by us. Her very presence stunk up the air.

As Olive’s words stumbled out of her mouth, a smug smile slithered across Clint’s cobra-thin lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Owen. I’ve already told Human Resources to contact our job recruiter to start a search for your new secretary.”

My eyes clashed with Clint’s. Obviously, she’d missed my earlier words. There was no need for a search. Olive was going nowhere if I had it my way and I would.

“Nice work, Clint,” I retorted, my voice filled with fury. I couldn’t wait to see the smug smile fall off her face tomorrow when she saw Olive seated outside my office. And hear her hiss.

Then, on my next breath, Olive fled.

A
rare summer storm had erupted in LA. The pellets of rain pounded me. The cold droplets mingled with the hot tear drops that were still storming down my face. A car whizzed by me, sending a spray of water all over my already soaked body. I felt like a drowned rat. My unyielding sobs sounded in my ears as I ran down the deserted street of the industrial wasteland that surrounded me. Unfamiliar with the area, blinded by my tears, and my mind in turmoil, I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew I had to let go of Owen King and never look back. My past had caught up with me and my future eluded me. The rain coming down harder, I ran faster until all I could think about was propelling myself ahead. Leaving behind the only real happiness I’d ever known in my life.

A loud horn honked in my ears, but I didn’t let it stop me. The car honked at me three more times. Not turning my head, I kept running and running across the slippery concrete.

“Get in the car!” a too familiar voice shouted out, loud enough to be heard above the pounding rain.

“No! Go away!” I yelled back, panting out each word.

“Please, Olive. Get in the damn car!” he barked back. I took a quick sideways glance and saw the massive vehicle, with the passenger window down, trailing along beside me. No, I couldn’t outrun it, but I wasn’t going to slow down. Or do as he asked.

“Jesus, Olive. You’re going to be the death of me.”

On my next desperate breath, the car came to halt, and I heard a door click open. Without slowing my pace, I jet-propelled myself forward, but the heavy footsteps behind me were gaining ground. My lungs were burning as were my thighs. Without warning, a heel caught in a sidewalk crack, and my heart lurched in my chest at that horrible, inevitable sensation that I was about to take a fall. As I tumbled forward, two strong arms caught me and steadied me on my feet. Still gripping me, he flipped me around. I looked up, his face dripping wet, his glistening ebony hair falling onto his forehead, a few slick strands obscuring one eye. Not wearing his jacket, his soaked white shirt clung to him like a second skin, and I could see every finely honed muscle of his hulking form through the transparent fabric. I both marveled and ached at his virile perfection, his long soaked lashes framing his blue eyes like crowns of thorns. Oh, the sight of him! My beautiful Donut King! My legs weak and chilled to the bone, I trembled in his arms. He held me tighter.

“Christ, princess. You almost killed yourself.”

“Please, Owen,” I rasped. “Let go of me.”

“I’m never letting go of you.” As the relentless rain fell upon us like a spray of bullets, he moved his large hands to my wet face, cradling it as his lips descended on mine. As our lips melded, the heat of his breath permeated every cell of my body. My tears salted his cheeks as the rain washed them away. Despite my chill, I melted into him, unable to resist.

Before I knew it, I was in his car, buckled in, his big jacket draped over my shoulders, warming me as my teeth chattered. He turned on the heat, the hot gust coming at me through the vents, and even beneath me, the soft leather chair heated up. Owen focused on the road, and only once did I steal a glimpse of his intense profile, deep in thought and concentration. Before he could catch my eyes on him, I turned away and glared at the sea of headlights ahead of me as the windshield wipers worked furiously to sweep away the endless rivulets streaking the glass pane. We were steeped in silence, only the sound of the pounding rain on the roof of the SUV pulsing through my ears.

Still stuck in the heavy traffic and downpour, Owen flicked the satellite radio on to his favorite Big Band station. I didn’t recognize the song playing, but the irony of the lyrics sent a shiver down my spine.

“Into each life, some rain must fall…”

Too much had fallen into mine. Owen had been my only ray of sunshine. He had lit up both my heart and my body. Brightened my world. Tears welled up in my eyes again, knowing the end was in sight. Then just as I thought I might start to bawl once more, he took my hand and placed it over the stick shift, entwining his long fingers with mine. The rain reduced to a drizzle and by the time, we got to his house, it had stopped.

A
s soon as we stepped inside my house, I peeled off her soaked clothes.

“I think I ruined your mother’s dress,” she sniffled, tears still streaming down her face as I slid it down her lush curves. “I’m so sorry.”

I kissed the top of her head, her drenched blond strands as soft as silk against my lips. “Don’t worry about it.”

My mother’s favorite dress was indeed ruined. The rain had caused the colors to bleed, and now the donuts were more like splotches of paint. As much as I treasured this dress and the memories it held for me, kissing my princess in it in the pouring rain was probably the most sensuous experience of my life. I had never kissed a girl in the rain before, and the way she had succumbed to my lips had sent a lightning bolt of arousal straight to my cock. My cock was straining against my fly the entire ride home. Well, to be honest, it still was.

I flicked away some tears before removing her lingerie. The print of the dress had bled through to the lace-trimmed, ivory one-piece undergarment turning it into a colorful but delicate abstract work of art. Wet from the rain, it clung to her body like a glove, the sheerness showing off all her luscious curves. Her full tits, overflowing in the cups, quivered as I lowered the dainty spaghetti straps down her arms. My fingers dusted over the goosebumps that popped along her creamy skin. When the garment fell to her feet, she kicked off her shoes and stepped out of it.

She stood before me in her full womanly glory, but she was shivering. Sadness colored her eyes. She looked so, so vulnerable. Almost ashamed. Like a naughty little puppy begging for forgiveness. She was breaking my heart. It was my job to take care of her, make her feel protected and cherished. And loved.

“Baby, you’re cold. Let’s get you into a hot bath before you catch pneumonia.”

Before she could protest, I scooped her into my arms and mounted the winding stairs, taking two steps at a time.

“Owen, why are you being so kind to me?” she whispered, her eyes shooting up to me.

“Oh, sweet princess, don’t you know?” Whatever her past transgressions, the love I felt for her couldn’t be put into words.