LOGINOlivia
I slept fitfully, my mind a carousel of images: Ryan's shocked face, Sophia's smug smirk, and, oddly, Alexander Carter's piercing gray eyes watching me in the rearview mirror.
The weekend crawled by in a haze. I spent most of the time curled up on my couch, binging old movies, eating takeout, and ignoring the world, especially Ryan's desperate attempts to reach me. I let myself grieve, but by Sunday night, I was done crying; Ryan didn't deserve another tear. Monday morning arrived with brutal efficiency. I dragged myself into the shower, letting the hot water pound away the remnants of Friday night's disaster. No tears; I'd shed enough of those already. Ryan didn't deserve them. I wrapped myself in a towel and stared at my closet. What does one wear after catching their boyfriend balls-deep in another woman? I opted for armor: a crisp white blouse, a black pencil skirt, and highest heels. The kind of outfit that said, "I'm fine, fuck you very much." The cab ride to Carter Enterprises took twenty minutes. I spent it scrolling through Ryan's increasingly desperate texts. "Baby, please let me explain" "It was a mistake." "Call me." "I love YOU, not her." Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete. Carter Enterprises occupied a gleaming sixty-story tower in downtown Los Angeles. I'd been working there for eight months as a junior marketing executive, and despite the drama of my personal life imploding, I still felt a flutter of pride walking through those glass doors. The elevator whisked me to the 42nd floor. I stepped into the marketing department, where Nova was already at her desk, sipping her usual triple-shot espresso. "Morning, sunshine!" she called, then squinted at me. "You look different. New lipstick?" "New life status. Single." I dropped my bag at my desk. Before Nova could respond, Vivian breezed in, her red curls bouncing as she walked. "Ladies, you won't believe the email I just got. Apparently, the big boss himself will be sitting in on our presentation this week." "Alexander Carter?" I nearly choked on the words. "The one and only," Vivian confirmed, perching on the edge of my desk. "Why do you look like you've seen a ghost? It's not like you'll have to talk to him." If only she knew. "I'm just surprised," I managed. "He doesn't usually attend department presentations." Alice arrived last, as usual, balancing a stack of folders and her phone. "Sorry, I'm late. The barista got my order wrong twice. What did I miss?" "Alexander Carter's coming to our presentation, and Olivia's single," Nova summarized. Alice's eyes widened. "What? Which one should I address first?" "The presentation," I said quickly. "It's more important." "Like hell it is," Nova swiveled her chair to face me fully. "Spill it, Morgan. What happened with Ryan?" I sighed, lowering my voice. "I caught him fucking Sophia at her birthday party." All three women froze. "Sophia Santos? The one whose party you rushed off to?" Vivian clarified, her mouth hanging open. I nodded. "That backstabbing cunt," Nova breathed. "I hope his dick falls off," Alice added, patting my shoulder. "That's almost verbatim what Emilia said," I laughed despite myself. "What did you do?" Vivian leaned in, hungry for details. "I dumped him on the spot and left. End of story." "Good for you," Nova said firmly. "You deserve someone who knows what he has." "Preferably someone with a bigger dick and a functioning moral compass," Alice suggested. "Can we please focus on work now?" I begged. "I have the social media analytics to finish before lunch." They reluctantly returned to their desks, but I caught them shooting me concerned glances throughout the morning. I buried myself in spreadsheets and engagement metrics, grateful for the distraction. The last thing I needed was to think about that night, including my unexpected encounter with Alexander Carter. The CEO of Carter Enterprises wasn't just my boss; he was a legend in the business world. Cold, calculating, brilliant. He'd taken his grandfather's company and transformed it into a multinational corporation in less than a decade. The tabloids occasionally linked him with models or actresses, but he was notoriously private. And I really, really didn't want him to connect the dots between the disheveled woman he'd rescued and Olivia Morgan, a junior marketing executive. At lunch, we headed to the company cafeteria on the 30th floor. I scanned the room instinctively, relaxing when I didn't spot any tall, dark-haired executives. "So," Vivian said as we settled at our usual table, "tell us more about Friday. You rushed out of here like your ass was on fire." I poked at my salad. "Not much to tell. I got to the party, couldn't find Ryan, went looking for him, and found him bent over Sophia's dresser, drilling her like he was looking for oil." Nova snorted water through her nose. "Jesus, Liv! Warning next time." "What did you say?" Alice asked, leaning forward. "I asked if they'd been 'careful' and reminded him that monogamy is apparently very limiting." I stabbed a cherry tomato. "Then I told him to go fuck himself. Or Sophia. Whichever." "Queen shit," Vivian raised her water bottle in a toast. "To Olivia, who doesn't take crap from cheating assholes." "To Olivia," the others echoed. "Anything else interesting happened?" Alice asked. "Did you key his car? Throw drinks? Create a scene?" I hesitated. "No, nothing like that. Emilia and I just left." I couldn't bring myself to mention Alexander. It felt too surreal, too private somehow. The next few days passed in a blur of work and ignored calls from Ryan. I threw myself into the upcoming presentation, staying late to perfect the slides and rehearse my talking points. If Alexander Carter was going to be there, everything needed to be flawless. Not that he'd recognize me. He probably rescued women from creeps all the time. Why would he remember one random encounter? Thursday morning, I arrived early to set up the conference room. Our presentation on the new social media campaign was scheduled for 10 AM, and my stomach had been in knots since I woke up. "Relax," Nova said, adjusting the projector. "Carter probably won't even show up. These executives always have 'emergencies' that pull them away." "And if he does show up, he'll be on his phone the whole time," Vivian added, straightening the chairs. Alice arrived with a tray of coffee. "Or he'll leave halfway through. That's what happened at the last sales presentation." Their attempts at reassurance weren't helping. I couldn't shake the image of Alexander recognizing me, his eyebrows rising in surprise as he connected the dots between professional Olivia Morgan and the emotional wreck he'd driven home. By 9:55, the room was filled with marketing staff and a few executives I recognized from other departments. I took my position near the front, reviewing my notes one last time. At exactly 10 AM, the room fell silent. I looked up to see Alexander Carter striding through the door, followed by two assistants. He was even more imposing in his natural habitat with a charcoal suit perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, and his presence commanded attention effortlessly. He nodded to the room and took a seat in the back row. I quickly looked down at my notes, my heart hammering against my ribs.OliviaWe took the elevator down to the lobby, where a sleek black Mercedes waited at the curb. The hotel had arranged it, another perk of staying in the Presidential Suite. The driver, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, held the door open. "Good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Carter. Where would you like to go today?" Alexander glanced at me, then back to the driver. "Ristorante Pappagallo." The drive took about fifteen minutes, the car cutting through palm tree lined streets. I pressed my face to the window like a kid, drinking in the sight of colorful buildings and crystal blue water peeking between structures. "You look like you've never seen the ocean before," Alexander teased. "Not water that color. It's like someone dumped food coloring in it." He laughed, his hand finding mine on the seat between us. "Wait until you swim in it. It's even better." The restaurant sat right on the water, an elegant open-air space with white tablecloths and panoramic views of the Caribbean Sea. Th
OliviaAlexander moved closer, his footsteps silent on the plush carpet. His arms slid around my waist from behind, pulling me back against his chest. The warmth of his body seeped through the thin fabric of my dress. "You haven't seen the bedroom yet," he murmured against my ear, his breath hot. "Or properly explored the suite." I felt his lips brush the side of my neck, sending goosebumps down my arms despite the tropical heat outside. "I saw what I needed to see," I replied, leaning back into him. "Your dirty mind can wait." His chest rumbled with a laugh. "My dirty mind is already working overtime. You have no idea what I'm thinking right now." "Probably something that would get us kicked out of this very respectable hotel." "Definitely something that would get us kicked out." His hands splayed across my stomach, possessive and warm. "Want to hear?" I turned in his arms, meeting those dark eyes. "Maybe later. When I'm not standing in front of a wall of windows." "The glass
OliviaI shifted slightly, Alexander's arms tightening around me in response. His breathing had evened out, deep and steady. I thought he'd fallen asleep until his hand moved, fingers tracing lazy patterns on my hip. "Need to use the bathroom," I murmured. His arms loosened immediately. "Hurry back." I extracted myself from his warmth and padded down to the bathroom. The jet's interior was luxurious, all polished chrome and marble. I washed my hands and checked my reflection, noting the slightly disheveled hair and flushed cheeks. When I returned, Alexander had closed his laptop and set it aside. Instead of letting me return to my own seat, he pulled me onto his lap again, arranging me so I sat sideways across his thighs. "Much better," he said, his hand settling on my waist. "Comfortable?" "Very." He gestured toward the window. "Look." I turned to see endless clouds stretched below us, cotton white against impossibly blue sky. The sun glinted off their surfaces, making them s
Olivia"We really need to pack now," I said eventually. "Probably." He pulled out slowly, setting me down on shaky legs. "Can you walk?" "Barely." But I was smiling. "Your fault." "Not apologizing." He grabbed the shampoo, squeezing some into his palm. "Turn around." I let him wash my hair, his fingers massaging my scalp. It was surprisingly intimate, standing there while he took care of me. We finished showering and dried off quickly. I wrapped a towel around myself and headed to the closet, surveying my wardrobe. "What do people wear in the Caymans?" I called out. Alexander appeared behind me, already dressed in jeans and a white button down. "Casual. Swimsuits. Sundresses." I pulled out several dresses, holding them up one by one. "Which ones?" "All of them." He leaned against the doorframe, watching me. "Especially that red one." "It's pretty short." "I know." His eyes darkened. "Pack it." I added it to the growing pile on the bed. Swimsuits, cover-ups, sandals, a few
OliviaWe stayed like that for a moment, both of us breathing hard. Then he gently lifted me off him and pulled me back against his chest, collapsing onto the couch together. Neither of us spoke for several minutes, just trying to catch our breath. My body felt boneless, utterly spent. "You okay?" he finally asked, his hand stroking my hair. "Mmm." It was all I could manage. He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "That good?" "Shut up." "Make me." I turned my head to glare at him, but the effect was probably ruined by my thoroughly fucked appearance. "I can't move. You broke me." "Drama queen." But his hand was gentle as it traced patterns on my shoulder. "You loved it." I couldn't argue with that. We lay tangled together on the couch, his cum slowly dripping out of me onto the expensive leather. I should probably care about that, but I was too blissed out to give a damn. "We should clean up," I said eventually. "In a minute." His arms tightened around me. "Jus
OliviaThe overstimulation bordered on pain, every nerve ending screaming. But then the sensation shifted, pleasure building again impossibly fast. "I can't," I whimpered. "I can't come again." He pulled his fingers out, using just his tongue now. Long, slow licks up my slit, then fast circles on my clit. The contrast was maddening. My hips bucked against his face, chasing the pleasure even as my oversensitive body tried to escape it. He released my wrists, gripping my thighs instead and spreading them wider. "Please," I begged, not sure what I was asking for anymore. His tongue pushed inside me, fucking me with it before moving back to my clit. Sucking hard, then gentle licks, then hard again. He played my body like he'd written the manual himself. The second orgasm hit different. Slower, deeper, rolling through me in long waves that left me gasping. My legs shook so hard I couldn't control them, couldn't do anything but lie there and take what he was giving me. When he finall







