The Big O (An OTT Insta-love STANDALONE) (18 page)

He took the cup from me and set it on the coffee table. His eyes seared into me. “Olive, you
can
do this. Everyone is counting on you.”

I gulped. He was right. I had no choice. And I couldn’t let him down. Nor the production team. Nor Marge and Nathan. Too much had gone into this commercial, both time and money-wise, and Owen personally had a lot riding on it. I shuddered…and a lot riding on me. This was my chance of a lifetime to do something I always wanted to do. What was wrong with me?

Owen’s gaze softened, his eyes traveling down my body and landing where the skirt of my flirty dress hit just above my knees. “Seriously, my princess, all you have to do is relax. Don’t let me down.”

He took my hand and put it to his crotch. Flying as high as a kite, his rock hard cock singed my palm.

“You have no idea how much I’d like to fuck you senseless right now and spill my cum down your legs, my beauty, but I can’t mess you up.” Slowly, he lifted the hem of my dress, exposing my garters and silk stockings. With a hiss, his hand skimmed up one of my thighs until it reached the apex. He slid his fingers under my panties and caressed my pussy.

“Jesus, Olive. Is this what being nervous does to you? You’re soaking wet.”

“I guess so.” I shrugged as he continued to stroke my sensitive folds. I was dripping with molten liquid. And love.

“Princess, put your hand under your pretty panties and find mine.”

Breathing heavily, I did as he asked. Our fingertips met and I could feel how wet his were.

“Good. Now, I want you to spread your legs and play with yourself. Close your eyes. Just relax. I’m going to be right here watching you come. Think about me. How much you want to please me. And how much I want you to pleasure yourself.”

I closed my eyes. I’d touched myself before but truthfully had never brought myself to an orgasm. But now, with the man I loved with all my heart watching over me, my pussy so hot and wet, the cluster of nerves between my legs buzzing with want and need, I began to rub my clit with vigor, fantasizing his enormous cock inside me.

“Good girl,” I heard him say as I threw back my head, biting down on my lip to stifle my half-sobs. “Now, put your other hand down there and put a finger inside your sweet little hole and pump it up and down.”

Again, I did as he asked, shoving my middle finger deep inside me. I’d never done this before and was surprised by what it felt like. So hot and wet and so soft, and as I pumped harder, it was like the walls were expanding and closing in on my finger. Like there wasn’t room for it. I pumped harder, faster, all the while rubbing my clit in ragged circles. My body heated up like an oven. Oh dear God! I was so close to coming, my heart racing and the pressure rapidly building toward the inevitable.

“Come on, Olive. Come for me. Let me watch your sweet pussy explode.”

Then it started, first with my clit. A quick burst of relief that was instantly followed by another burst of insane pleasure that juddered around my finger and then surged through my body like a tsunami.

“Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh!” I cried out, repeating the word louder and louder until there was no more of me my orgasm could claim. Riding it out, I blinked open my eyes to find Owen leaning into me, his grinning mouth just a breath away.

“That was so fucking beautiful. I’d kiss you to pieces, princess, but I don’t think I’ll be able to stop. I’ll take all of the lipstick off your delicious lips and then probably rip off your pan—”

“What the hell is going on here, Owen?”

The shrill voice cut him short. Mallory! She was standing at the doorway; neither of us had heard her enter. I quickly adjusted my dress, making sure it covered my legs. She shot me a scathing look. I wondered if she knew.

“Owen was just coaching me. I’m much more relaxed now.” I was both fortified and at ease from my mind-blowing orgasm.

She knew.
She scoffed at Owen. “Just for your information, we’re running late thanks to Miss Prima Donna. We’re not budgeted to go into overtime.”

Owen, unaffected, remained business-like. “Clint, tell everyone to be ready to resume.” He shot me a wink. “Olive knows just what she has to do.”

It was time to let this woman know she could no longer insult me or deter me “Get out of my way, Mallory. I’m ready for my close-up!”

“Lights! Camera! Action!”

The words echoed in my ears. Adrenaline pumped through my veins giving me something that resembled a sugar rush. The dress rehearsal had gone perfectly—relaxed, I totally nailed it—and now it was time to shoot The Big O commercial. While Mallory seethed, a small victory for me, Owen gave me big smile. Oh yes, I was ready. So ready.

“One, two, three…rolling!”

CAMERA PAN: On extras in the booth drinking coffee and looking glum.

CUT TO: Me bouncing through the door. A big smile on my face. All eyes are on me. I march up to the counter. Cheery Marge and Nathan are behind it.

Marge: “What can we get you, sugar?”

Me: “Mmmm. They all look so yummy!”

A camera tracks the counter and the trays of colorful donuts with me.

Me: “Eeny, meeny, miney…moe!” (I point to a cream-filled donut.)

Marge: “Here you go.” (Smiling, she hands me the donut.)

Me: (I turn around, put the donut to my mouth, and take a big bite.) “Oh! Oh! Oh! OH!” (The creamy custard pours out, some getting on my lips.)

CUT TO: An extra: “I want what she’s having!”

CUT TO: Another extra: “Me too!”

All the extras run up to the counter and order donuts until all the donuts are cleared off the shelves. (In editing, they’ll speed this up so it looks like the donuts are consumed in seconds.)

ANGLE ON: Owen: “I’m the Donut King. Let me put the big ‘O’ back in donuts.” (Stepping on a wooden box to make me look taller, I join Owen and, closing my eyes, lick the cream off my upper lip with a loud orgasmic moan. I then smack a kiss on Owen’s cheek. Grinning, Owen winks at the camera and makes a perfect A-OK circle with his thumb and forefinger. Via editing, a sparkling crown will magically appear on his head.)

“CUT!” I heard Jaime shout out. My heart was racing as he ran up to us. “You guys fucking nailed it. We’re going take a fifteen minute break, and when we come back, we’re going to do some close-ups, safety shots, and some B-roll.”

“Did you hear that, Olive?” beamed Owen as he lifted me off the box and swung me around. I was so excited I barely noticed Mallory stalk outside.

“That’s a wrap!” shouted Jaime on the top of his lungs.

Shouts of whoo-hoo, yes, and way to go mingled in the air. Ten long but exhilarating hours later, the new Donut King commercial was in the can. In addition to Jaime, many members of the production crew came up to congratulate Owen and me as well as Marge and Nathan.

“Olive, you have star power,” remarked Jaime. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider and do a commercial for my wife’s new plus-size lingerie line?”

Owen possessively flung his arm around my shoulders and answered for me. “Yes, she’s sure.”

Smiling, Jaime high fived Owen’s free hand. “Well, man, I guess you own her.”

“Yup. I own The Big O Girl.” Owen gave me a squeeze. “Every ounce of her.”

“And would that be thirty two hundred ounces?” came an unwanted snippy voice, dripping with sarcasm.

Mallory. My blood curdled at her belittling comment, but I decided I wasn’t going to let it get me down. I was on a sugar high. Over the course of the day, I’d bitten into enough cream-filled donuts to last a lifetime. And thankfully, she hadn’t been meddlesome during the shoot. Just a cold, calculating observer, who sat with her arms crossed in a canvas folding chair near the director. My eyes stayed on her as she headed our way. She was carrying a tray filled with glasses of champagne.

“Time to celebrate,” she said, her eyes on Owen. “Let’s toast The Big O Girl.”

“Great idea,” chimed in Jaime as Mallory handed him a glass.

“And here’s one for you, Owen.” My swoon-worthy co-star had no choice but to take it from her.

And then she made eye contact with me. A smug smile crawled across her face.

“And, of course, our star must have some champagne too.” She reached for another glass.

Embarrassment crept through me; I felt myself shrinking. “Um, uh, thanks but no thanks. I’m underage.” Though my twenty-first birthday was less than two weeks away, I was still too young to legally drink. While the rich mean girls I’d grown up with used to brag that they secretly raided their parents’ liquor cabinets as early as age thirteen, I’d never drank a stitch of alcohol in my entire life. And given my abusive alcoholic father, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to try any form of it.

“Come on, Olive,” urged Jaime, perhaps not knowing my age or all the details of my sordid past.

“Have some, princess,” Owen likewise insisted as I debated what to do. “Your little secret is safe with us.”

Mallory rolled her eyes. “Seriously, Olive, it’s time to grow up. A little champagne is not going to kill you.”

Her snarky words irked me. It was time to show this witch that I was a woman. Woman enough for Owen. Woman enough for Moët. I accepted her offer. With confidence, pride, and love in my eyes, I held up my glass as Owen toasted me.

“To The Big O Girl. May she sell a gazillion donuts. I love her with my heart and soul.”

His heartfelt words brought tears to my eyes. Our secret was out. We clanked our glasses together, the sound like bells ringing, and then I took my first sip of the sparkling golden beverage. Oh my God! Pure magic! It was like I was tasting stars. The little bubbles popped in my mouth before sailing down my throat. I immediately took another big sip. And then another and another.

“Slow down, Olive,” I heard Owen say, but I couldn’t reply.

My throat was constricting. My lungs were shutting down. Horrific pain coursed through my body. With the little brainpower I had left, I thought that maybe donuts and champagne didn’t mix. Especially with someone who’d never drank before. I tried to hide my reaction, but it was next to impossible. The pain so great, I clamped my hand to my heart where it clustered. Oh, God! Was I having a heart attack?

“Olive, what’s wrong?”

Owen’s panicked voice. I couldn’t answer.

“Oh, Jesus.”

Sweet Jesus.

“Someone call 911!”

And with those words, I felt God take me in his loving arms. Everything faded to black until a white light claimed me.

I
’d been out of the office for a week. I had a lot to catch up on, and sadly, I no longer had an assistant to help me. It would be hard to replace my beloved Olive, but God has other plans for her. As I booted up my computer, a familiar shrill voice sounded at the doorway.

“Owen, it’s good to have you back.”

It was Clint, looking rather dolled up in a full-skirted print dress that was much better suited for my sweetheart. It did nothing for Clint but make her look skinnier and more flat-chested than she already was.

“Sorry to hear about Olive’s fatal heart attack,” she continued, not a sad note in her voice. “Fat people are more prone to them.”

“The doctors said she had a congenital heart defect.”

“Oh, well. You win some; you lose some. You shouldn’t get too bent out of shape. HR is looking for a replacement.”