The Big O (An OTT Insta-love STANDALONE)

Read The Big O (An OTT Insta-love STANDALONE) Online

Authors: Nelle L'Amour

Tags: #Erotic, #Romance

BOOK: The Big O (An OTT Insta-love STANDALONE)
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“Sweet, sexy, amusing, and unforgettable. Be prepared for another hot, sexy, and humorous read.”


Love Between the Sheets Book Blog

“Sexy and fun! What a fabulous story! Nelle writes male POV like nobody’s business!”


The Book Bellas

“5-Sexy Shmexy Stars. Nelle L’Amour easily keeps the perfect balance of sexual innuendos, hot, hot sex, and laugh out loud moments.”


A4Alphas B4Books Blog

“I adored this book. I can’t remember the last time a book truly put a smile on my face.”


Love Between the Sheets Book Blog

“5 Golden Globes! I love how this author weaves the story together and the banter between the two characters. Another winner.”


Alpha Book Club

“I was blown away by this funny, emotional and so absolutely hot book.”


As You Wish Reviews

“Unputdownable! It’s got everything in it to make it a great read—mystery, humor, and most important, sizzling sexual chemistry.”


Romance Between the Sheets

“Funny, sexy, perfection. Equal parts Emma Chase and Christina Lauren.”


Adriane Leigh, USA Bestselling Author

“Highly recommend if you want a funny, sexy, quick read with a strong heroine.”


The Book Bellas

“Wow! I couldn’t put it down!!! You will laugh, cry, and swoon!”


The Book Addict

“Hot and steamy. On the wall, on the floor, everywhere steam!”


Three Chicks and Their Books

“A funny and sexy read. Phenomenal!”


The Fairest of All Book Reviews

“Nelle is up there with the best, such as Sylvia Day and E.L James.”


Goodreads Reviewer

Copyright © 2016 by Nelle L’Amour

Kindle Edition

All rights reserved

First Edition: July 2016

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, locales, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is purely coincidental.

No part of this ebook may be reproduced, uploaded to the Internet, or copied without permission from the author. The author respectfully asks that you please support artistic expression and help promote anti-piracy efforts by purchasing a copy of this ebook at the authorized online outlets.

Nelle L’Amour thanks you for your understanding and support.

TO JOIN MY MAILING LIST FOR NEW RELEASES AND SALES, PLEASE SIGN UP HERE:

http://eepurl.com/N3AXb

Cover by Arijana Karcic, Cover It! Designs

Proofreading by Mary Jo Toth

Formatting by BB eBooks

Hello, my Belles! This is nothing quite like anything I’ve written before. It’s an over-the-top, scorchin’ hot standalone novel that’s going to make your ereaders melt and your panties drip. We’re talking one testosterone-driven, possessive alpha male, who won’t stop for anything to get the woman of his dreams into his bed forever. And one big, sweet love of a woman, who can’t wait. Be prepared for sizzling hot insta-love, a bit of kinky fun, and some yummy food play. Pure delicious, toe-curling smut. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Hope you have a pool nearby to jump into and cool off. A cold shower would be good too. Or the O for ocean.

Get ready to laugh, cry, and swoon.

Happy reading!

MWAH!~Nelle 

 

Dedicated to everyone who’s not afraid to take the first bite

Praise for Nelle L’Amour

Title Page

Copyright Page

Note from Nelle

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Epilogue

UNFORGETTABLE Special Preview

Acknowledgments

Books by Nelle

About the Author

I
studied the spreadsheet on my desk. The numbers for last quarter’s earnings. They sucked. We were operating in the red and facing bankruptcy. If my dick was the line of my P&L chart, it would look like it fell off a cliff. That’s how bad things were. For decades, Donut King had been the number one breakfast stop in the country, but year after year our market share had declined. Numerous locations had shut down. What the hell was wrong with our yummy donuts and coffee? Trust me, they were delicious. Customers loved them. But with little advertising, companies like Starbeans and Coffee Depot had taken over our business. I couldn’t even remember the names of their coffees or breakfast entries, let alone how to pronounce or spell them. A Venti Caramel Macchiato? What the hell was that? And what language were we talking? Had suddenly everyone in America become seasoned sophisticates and taken a Berlitz course? A familiar caustic voice cut into my disturbing thoughts.

“Owen, you’re missing the focus group.”

“Huh?” I looked up from the depressing data and met the steely eyes of our young marketing director, Mallory Clint. While only in her mid twenties, the mousy-haired Harvard MBA looked much older in her navy pinstriped pantsuit and horn-rimmed glasses. The daughter of financier Burton Clint, whose hedge fund was keeping us afloat, she walked around as if she owned me. She thought that her father’s clout entitled her to call me by my first name while everyone else in the company addressed me as Mr. King. It pissed me off, but I had to treat her carefully. What made me even more on edge was that I sensed that she wanted more than a professional relationship with me. Trust me, I had no interest in fucking her. She wasn’t for me. And lately, with business in the toilet, fucking anyone was the last thing on my mind. This was the longest dry spell I’d ever endured. I’m talking years.

“Sir, this is very important. It’s giving us consumer insights.”

I appreciated that she for once called me sir. I demanded and deserved respect. I was, in fact, known to millions from TV commercials as the eponymous “Donut King,” a title I inherited from my late father who started the chain. To be truthful, they should have called me “Your Majesty,” “Your Royal Highness.” or at least, “My Lord.” But at this point, it was moot. Given our latest sales numbers, I was about to fall off my throne.

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