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  Over It

  Copyright © 2021 by Loni Ree

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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  Contents

  Olivia

  Marcus

  Oliva

  Marcus

  Marcus

  Olivia

  Marcus

  Olivia

  Marcus

  Marcus

  Olivia

  Olivia

  Marcus

  Epilogue

  About the Author

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  Also by Loni Ree

  Over It

  Two more weeks. Surely, I can survive fourteen days.

  Olivia

  Working for my temporary boss sucks.

  I used to think he was drop dead gorgeous.

  Now, I wish he’d just drop dead.

  He might have all the other women in the office fooled, but I’ve gotten to know the real man.

  And he’s the devil in disguise. I swear his eyes even glow red.

  One second he’s sweet and kind, the next he’s a jerk.

  His hot and cold attitude is getting old. I’m over it.

  Marcus

  She’s got me tied in so many knots, I don’t know if I’m coming or going.

  After watching my dad sleep his way through every secretary in his company, I always swore I’d never follow in his footsteps.

  Too bad, my heart doesn’t remember that promise when it goes and falls for my temporary PA.

  Now, I’ve got to decide if I’m going to man up and get over it or stay the boss from hell forever.

  Marcus has his work cut out for him but he won’t give up on his girl. He’s going to do whatever it takes to prove to Olivia that he’s all in. This boss from hell is about to become the love of her life.

  If you like over-the-top, insta-love romance with a little bit of humor, this short romance is the perfect story for you.

  Olivia

  Groaning, I curse my shitty luck when the phone on my desk rings at four-fifty. I was so freaking close to escaping for the day. Ten more minutes and I would’ve been racing for the elevator like my pantyhose were on fire. I grit my teeth and answer. “May I help you, Mr. Thornhill?”

  “I’m not calling to chat. Please, come to my office.” The jerk. I should quit, but I actually love working for my real boss, Thomas Thornhill. His brother, the company CEO and my temporary boss, is an asshole. I’ve managed to make it through the last month, but it’s been close. As the next two weeks stretch out in front of me, I pray I somehow find the strength to survive without grabbing his expensive tie and strangling him with it.

  “I’ll be right there,” I clip out and hang up on him.

  My heels click across the marble floor as I march toward his office, breathing deeply in an attempt to center myself. After knocking on the heavy wood door, I paste a fake smile on my face and push it open. “How may I help you?” I ask.

  “About time,” the hot asshole snarls under his breath, and my hands twitch at my side. His navy-blue silk tie is calling to me, but I remind myself that strangling my boss would look horrible on my resume. “I need you to stay late tonight.” What? My mouth falls open as my argument bubbles up my throat. Everyone knows I don’t ever stay late on Thursday nights. It’s been my “off-limits” night since I started working at Thornhill & Brunts five years ago.

  “Sir.” I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from raising my voice to the spoiled jerk. “I’m sorry. I can’t stay late, but I’ll come in early tomorrow morning to complete whatever you need done.”

  He raises an eyebrow and leans back in his chair. “That isn’t good enough.” I open my mouth to argue, but he holds up his hand. “I have changes for the Hanson contract, and Neal Hanson will be calling soon.” He glares at me like I’m mentally slow. “I need you to take notes.”

  Sighing, I admit to myself I’ve lost this fight. “Would you like to email me the changes, or do you want to dictate them?” I ask.

  As a smirk breaks out on his perfectly formed lips, I barely resist the urge to stomp over to him and slap it away. “I’ll send you the list now.” He glances at his computer screen, dismissing me. I walk out the door, and he announces behind me, “Please, be ready for the conference call in an hour.”

  Asshole, jerk, pig. As I run through my list of nicer descriptions for Marcus Thornhill in my mind, I pull my cellphone out of my pocket and text Granny Sue. This is the first Thursday night card game I’ve missed in years, and I know she’ll understand, especially when I tell her it’s all his fault. After listening to me lament over his autocratic ways and unreasonable demands for the last month, Granny won’t be shocked he’s forcing me to stay late on Thursday night.

  When Thomas returns from his six-week-long assignment at the Thornhill & Brunts London division, he owes me. Big time. Before my boss left, I had the same misconception as all the other poor, deluded females at this company. I believed the elder Thornhill was tall, dark, handsome, and brooding. Now, I can add impatient, unfair, spoiled, and downright unpleasant to be around. The poor female fools all melt under the jerk’s hot, dark stare and lust after his muscular body, but they haven't had to deal with the real man. A month ago, his deep brown eyes with long sooty lashes might have made my heart beat faster and my panties wet. Not anymore. Now, I swear I see red glowing in their depths. Instead of wanting to run my fingers through his perfectly styled, chocolate-colored hair to mess it up, I clench my hands together to resist the urge to grab the strands and tug. The first time he looked at me, I stared at the cleft in his chin and wondered what it would feel like to run my tongue through the little indention. Now, I’d love to throw a dart at it.

  After Granny Sue sends me a text assuring me she understands, I open the asshole’s email and get to work on the contract. Jeez. He had me stay late for this. I make the minor changes in ten minutes, then sit back and stare at the clock. Hopefully, this all-important call will come soon, and I can escape my dungeon. Looking around, I realize it takes a real beast to turn this gorgeous office into a torture chamber. My desk sits in the middle of a large room surrounded by glass walls and beautiful antiques. There’s a crystal chandelier hanging above the reception area and black and gray marble flooring throughout the entire executive wing. Glancing at my watch, I see only ten minutes have passed since I looked at it last. I should have plenty of time to escape to the ladies’ room for a few moments to regroup. I walk into the large outer room and drop onto one of the leather sofas and shake my head. This bathroom is bigger than my whole apartment. After staring at the ceiling for a little while, I walk to the marble sinks and run cold water over my hands. I tell myself I’ve wasted enough time and reluctantly head back.

  “Where the hell have you been?” My heart jumps into my throat as King Asshole roars behind me.

  Spinning around, I find him thundering down the long corridor. “I went to the ladies’ room.” If this jerk complains, I’ll lose my mind and quit. “I do get pee breaks.” Oops. My filter completely detaches from my mouth.
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  As he stops and glares down at me, a blush moves up his face, shocking me. “Neal Hanson is waiting on the line.” He ignores my last comment and places a hand on my lower back to lead me to his office. The heat from his touch sends little pulses of electricity along my nerves. What in the world? The tiny tingles running through my chest scare the hell out of me. I scold myself and remind my stupid heart and womanly parts that he’s a jerk.

  Blessedly, the call is short, but it’s also totally unnecessary. This asshole didn’t need me to stay. Any moron could remember the tiny amount of information exchanged. By the time the meeting ends, the icy layer around my heart and girl parts is hard as a rock again.

  Marcus

  I’m a dick. I admit it, but I nearly lost my mind when I discovered Olivia has an important date every Thursday night. I tried to dig around, but no one has a clue what she’s up to. At least, they won’t tell me about it if they do know. Desperate to find out, I come right out and ask, but she refuses to divulge her weekly plans. The thought of this girl spending the evening with another man drives me mad. Thornhill & Brunts has a strict no dating policy, and I’ve never had any problem following it. I hadn’t paid any attention to the cute, curvy blonde. She was like every other female employee at our company—

  invisible to me. Off-limits. Then she started working for me a month ago, and my fucking cock noticed her. Soon after that, funny sensations began to shoot through my chest whenever she stepped into the room. Now, she consumes my mind every waking moment. My brother’s Personal Assistant has become my obsession.

  My heart pounds in my chest when Olivia knocks on my office door. “Come in,” I call and sit back. As she stalks toward my desk, her ample breasts draw my attention. My eyes stray down the front of her off-white silky blouse, and my cock hardens in my fitted dress pants when I see the outline of her hard nipples poking through the soft material.

  “Here’s the contract.” She leans over to slap a stack of papers down on my desk, and her shirt gapes a little. I barely resist groaning as the lace cups of her bra peek out. “Do you need me to do anything else?”

  “Thank you,” I manage to croak. Wait. I glance at the grandfather clock in the corner. It’s only seven twenty-four. She still has plenty of time to hook up with her date. The idea of her seeing another man doesn’t work for me. “I actually have a couple more tasks for you.” I pull bullshit busy work out of my ass and rattle off the list while watching her eyes narrow.

  As she storms away, I sit back in my chair and wonder what the hell I’m going to do next Thursday? Fuck. I’m losing my mind.

  Two hours later, I’ve run out of excuses to keep Olivia at the office, and I admit to myself I’m officially the boss from hell. She glares at me out of the corner of her eye as she grabs her coat and purse. “Since I needed you to work late, I’ll drive you home,” I offer and watch her eyes widen.

  “That’s okay,” she objects as we step into the elevator. “I live nearby.” She hits the lobby button several times, and I realize she’s in a hurry. Great job, asshole. I admonish myself. She’s dying to flee your presence. “Really, really close,” she growls as the elevator descends.

  Reaching around her, I hit the underground parking button and smile. “It’s too late for you to be out alone. I’ll drive you home.” As her ruby red lips part to argue with me, dirty visions of those juicy lips doing other things fill my mind, and I shake my head to clear the images. My cock jumps in my pants as a fantasy runs unchecked through my mind of those plump lips closing around my erection and sucking. Swallowing, I take several deep breaths and think about my mother’s last attempt at cooking. Luckily, my desperate efforts work and relieve some of the pressure building in my nuts.

  The door opens in the lobby, and I watch the emotions run across Olivia’s expressive face. She’s debating whether or not to make a run for it. Her shoulders sag a little, and she sighs as the elevator doors close us in again, and we continue on to the parking garage.

  Taking her home might’ve been my worst idea yet. As I pull out into traffic, I force myself to watch the road and ignore how high her skirt has ridden up on her luscious thighs. I clench my hands tightly on the steering wheel to prevent myself from reaching over and running a finger along the smooth skin that’s been revealed. Fuck. I’m dying. Desire for this girl is killing me.

  “Turn left here.”

  I swear under my breath and turn. She continues to give me instructions, and I fight my hunger for her the entire way to her apartment. Luckily, she was telling the truth. She lives within a mile from the office.

  “You can pull over here.” She points at the front of the building, and I’m tempted to walk her in but know that’s not smart.

  “I’ll come around and open your door.” I grab her hand as she reaches for her seatbelt. She blinks at me but doesn’t argue. “Thank you for staying late.” She glares at me and bites her lip but doesn't respond. I stand on the side of my vehicle and watch her storm through the door of her building and wonder what in the hell I was thinking tonight. Oh, I know. I was thinking this girl has me tied in so many fucking knots, I might never get free.

  My empty house greets me, and I sigh. Fuck. Before I became obsessed with Olivia, walking into my stark, barren home never bothered me. I’d walk through the door and relish the silence. Now, it sends loneliness coursing through me. I pour myself a drink and turn on a hockey game. After staring off into space for a while, I realize I’m wasting my time and decide to call it a night. My cock is still rock hard from earlier, so I head straight for my bathroom. Turning the shower dial to hot, I strip and step under the spray as visions of Olivia fill my mind, and I pour body wash in my hand before grasping my dick. I stroke myself and imagine the feeling of her silky pussy wrapped snugly around my cock. My nuts draw up tight to my body as my orgasm approaches and I jerk harder. I shout Olivia’s name and sag against the cold marble wall. Coming temporarily satisfies my hungry cock, but I’m far from happy. Something is going to have to give and soon.

  I’m lying in bed a little later when the perfect idea hits me out of the blue. Neal Hanson has been asking for an in-person meeting in Los Angeles for weeks. I’ve been putting him off because I hate to leave our third partner, Josh, alone to deal with all the issues in Atlanta while Thomas is in London. Fuck it. This is too perfect. I’ll take my temporary assistant to LA for the week. The trip will kill two birds with one stone. I’ll have some time to figure out what the hell is happening to me, and Olivia won’t be in town next Thursday for her date night. Win-win.

  Oliva

  After a long sleepless night filled with hot, naughty dreams of staring at my temporary boss, I’m in a horrible mood. Hoping a sugary coffee will improve my outlook, I stop by The Steamin’ Mug on my way to work. As the caffeine hits my system, I begin to feel a little more in control. I breathe a sigh of relief when I find the executive floor dark and empty. It’s only six forty-seven. Hopefully, I’ll have at least another twenty minutes before my pain in the ass, temporary boss arrives. My early morning reprieve lasts for exactly twelve minutes before I hear the elevator ding. I hold my breath while praying some other employee has decided to come in early, but I’m not that lucky. Marcus Thornton strolls past my desk, and I mentally prepare myself to survive another day.

  When he stops in front of me, the look on his face warns me I’m not going to like what’s coming. “Olivia.” Yesterday, he called me Ms. Overton. “I’m meeting with Neal Hanson in LA on Monday.” Woot. I’m mentally fist-pumping. I’ll get rid of him for a few days. My excitement is short-lived. He continues, and the coffee burns its way back up my throat. “I’m going to need you to arrange to accompany me to LA.” He pulls out his wallet and drops a black credit card on the surface in front of me. “There will be at least two formal functions and daily meetings, so please make sure you have the appropriate clothing for the entire trip.” He points at the credit card. “Use the company card and bring me the receipts to turn in for the exp
ense report.”

  “But...” I stutter out.

  “No buts.” He glares at me. “My personal assistant accompanied Thomas to London for six weeks to accommodate you.” He reminds me of the reason I’m stuck working for him. I refused to leave Granny Sue for such a long time, so Marcus’ assistant, Ella, offered to go in my place. Marcus and Thomas basically switched PAs for the six-week period. “I don’t have anyone else to take with me,” he reminds me. Fudge. I’m going to be stuck on a plane and then in a hotel for a week with the biggest jerk around. Karma, what have I done to make you hate me?

  I end up spending all day Saturday at the mall. After shopping, I’m lucky enough to snag a last-minute appointment at the hair salon for a full-service treatment. If the jerk plans to force me to accompany him to all these events, I’m going to look my best. Mr. Thornton is in for the surprise of his life in Los Angeles. I might have gone a little overboard when I chose my dresses and outfits. They’re definitely less conservative. Way less.

  Monday morning, I’m up early and packed an hour before he’s due to pick me up. As I pace the front foyer, I bite my manicured fingernail and second guess my choices from yesterday. Maybe the slinky, backless, body-hugging evening gowns weren't great ideas. My heart drops when there’s a knock at the front door. Oh well, it’s too late now. I’ll have to live with my brave decisions.