The Big O (The Virgin Diaries) (8 page)

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. Standing here and talking to you without giving you a kiss was torture.”

He keeps his hand pressed on the small of my back, keeping me upright while he tries to apologize for that.

“Oren just shut up.” I hold my free trembling hand up to him. “That was the best first kiss a girl could ever ask for.”

“First?” he asks stepping back, clutching the back of his hair and leaving his hands there.

I shyly nod yes.

“Shit. Olivia, you are really going to be the death of me.”

I set Pedro down. The first kiss must have scared the shit out of him because he scatters away, struggling to keep his little legs under him as he scatters on the vinyl flooring.

The room spins a bit when I stand straight back up, going a bit dizzy.

“So you’re okay with it?” Oren drops both of his arms. “I know you’re traumatized from dating and banned it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“So, what are we going to call this?” Oren steps up to me again, wrapping both of his arms low around my waist and backing me up to the counter until my calves hit the cupboards. His fingers dig into my hips as he lifts me up onto the counter. Oren settles his large frame between my legs. His hands glide and mold to the sides of my cheeks as he dips his face lower to mine.

“I think it’s called kissing.” I mumble into his lips. “Amazing, hot, and the best kissing in the history of all kissing by hot cops.”

I feel his smile press into my lips before he begins kissing me again. He nurtures my lips with each graze of his. His taste is addictive with each peck. My palms remain planted on the counter, keeping myself steady. A warmth spreads over my body as Oren captures my bottom lip in his teeth.

He pulls back a bit. “Your turn to kiss me, Olivia.”

I sit up straighter, curling my arms around my middle, crawling right back into my embarrassment shell.

“Olivia.” Oren uses his forefinger to lift my chin up to him. “Kiss me please.”

“I don’t know how to.”

His sexy smile covers his face. “Close your eyes and jump with me, Olivia.”

I follow his instructions, fiddling with my fingers until he unclasps my tangled arms, placing my palms on his cheeks. With eyes shut, I lean forward until our lips touch. I fight to remember the movements of his lips and what his actions were. I lavish his taste with each peck and build up more courage with each time our lips touch.

A low groan bubbles up from his chest, giving me the courage I need to savor one final grace of his lips before pulling back.

“Best kiss ever,” Oren says standing straight up. “Now, let’s get you to dinner before this turns into a date.”

“Roses, sweet kisses, and now dinner with a sex god is pretty much classified as a date,” I reply, holding onto his shoulders to help balance myself for the leap down to the ground. I’m not sure if it’s the mixture of the emotion coursing through my veins or the trashy hooker heels, but my legs wobble to the point of my knees knocking together.

Oren hooks his arm through mine. “Are you okay going on a date with me?”

“I think I am.” I nod my head. “Just no pasta throwing. I mean, you did pass the Pedro test.”

Oren is quite the gentleman, opening all doors for me even the one to his Jeep Wrangler, forcing me to pinch myself to wake myself up from this dream. It’s all too good to be true.

“Gravy Doug's?” he asks, stopped at a red stoplight.

“Hell yes,” I squeal.

“I mean, we hit it off there pretty good the first time, so I’d hate to try anything else.”

“Yum and do I get to still dip your finger steaks in my gravy?”

“I guess.”

Gravy Doug’s is dead, which makes me happy. Less staring eyes to start the gossip circle. Oren surprises me when he slides in on my side of the booth until we are shoulder to shoulder.

“Hey there,” I say with a big smile.

“You ordering for me? Set me straight on my ways at Gravy Doug's.”

“Oh, I can show you the light for sure.” I slide the two menus to the end of the table and then feel his hand wind into mine.

There’s a new waitress who oozes a bit too much sexiness for me. I have to give it to Oren, he doesn’t sneak one peek at her supple cleavage or tops of thighs in her freakin’ boy shorts. Ol’ Gravy Doug must be getting lonely and quite horny in his old age.

“You do like that chicken fried steak, uh?” Oren asks, squeezing my hand.

“Yeah, I’m a gravy girl.” I shrug and give his fingers a squeeze.

“How in the hell have you remained single so long?”

“I’m a weirdo magnet. No offense.”

Oren slowly moves his fingers in mine. The movement nearly causes me to melt into a pool of horny teacher.

“Seriously.”

“I’m serious,” I reply.

“Twenty questions?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

I twist in the booth to face him. “What are the rules?”

“Anything goes.”

“You get one question and then I ask you one.”

“Deal.” Oren takes a long gulp of his ice water. “How many boyfriends have you had, Olivia?”

“You know that answer,” I reply.

“Seriously and I’m like a walking lie detector.”

“Fine, one from first grade. His name was Skipper and he was imaginary.”

“I knew it.” He slams the table.

His deep chuckle makes the embarrassment creep up into the pinks of my cheeks.

“My turn.” I reach over and grab his forearm, shocking myself at such a bold move. “How many girlfriends have you had?”

“Do you want the truth or a lie?” he asks

“Truth, Oren.”

“A lot. Too many to count.”

All righty then, I should’ve picked lie.

“College?” he asks.

“State college here in Oregon. Teaching school with Scout, lived in the dorms, watched Seinfeld every single night in my dorm room eating Fig Newtons.”

“Par-tay animal.”

“You know it. Okay, Oren where are you from? Where did you grow up and what brought you here?”

“Slow down, turbo, one question at a time.”

“I’m boring, Oren. I was raised by my dad. No boyfriend and still have my V card. You’ve met Pedro and Scout, the two other people in my life beside my dad. My mom died when I was nine.” I pause, thinking of anything else. “Oh, and I hate the letter O.”

“Why do you hate the letter O?” He raises an eyebrow in my direction.

“Really Officer Oren O’Brien? I’m Olivia Olander who lives in Ontario, Oregon and who is O-less.”

And I slap both hands over my mouth, instantly missing the feel of his hand in mine. I spread my fingers enough to talk through them. “Talk now before I die of embarrassment.”

His words are laced with laughter. “I’m from Southern California and a third generation police officer. I have a big, loud family with four brothers and three sisters. And Olivia, I hated my life in California. I asked for a transfer for a fresh start. Oh, and I love the letter O.”

“No more alphabet allowed in tonight’s conversation and we’re never playing twenty questions again.”

“Deal. It’s nice knowing more about you, Olivia.”

“You too, Officer Hot Pants.”

“You and your damn nicknames.”

And the food saves the day from anymore awkward conversation. Oren’s a gentleman, letting me dip in his gravy and steal bits of his food from his plate. The man can eat. He puts away all of his food plus my leftovers.

“Was it as good as the first time?” I ask and then die a bit on the inside, realizing how dirty the question could be.

“Delicious and the company just as sweet and loveable.” He taps the end of my nose before he goes to pay the bill.

My heart sinks knowing our date is nearing an end. Even with the horrifying conversation, Oren has a weird way of making me feel comfortable through all of it.

“Dutch?” I ask, walking up behind him, while staring at his perfect ass.

“Not a damn chance,” he says without turning around.

“I can pay my half.”

“You said it was a date and that means I pay.”

“Well, thank you, Oren.”

He turns around, clutches my hand, and holds the door of the diner open for me. “You might not be saying thank you in a few minutes.”

I
’m going
to freaking murder Scout with a dull ice cream scoop. If I had my cellphone right now I’d be calling her ass up and letting her have it.

“I’m ready when you are, Olivia.” Oren’s voice drifts through into the dressing room.

“Just a second.” I reach up behind my neck and tie off the top of my bikini. That’s right, I’m standing on cold cement in a bright yellow and red bikini of Scout’s at a natural hot springs at night. My breasts barely fill out Scout’s top and I look like a little child dressed up in a Hulk Hogan wannabe swimsuit. Thank fuck, I’m not a natural blonde. I’m pretty sure Scout bought this swimsuit as a role-playing outfit with Taylor.
Ewwww, abort thought. Shit, fuck, bitch, that was gross.

I swing open the dressing room door, ready to give the what for to Oren for bringing me to the local “soak and poke” pools, but him in swim trunks leaves me speechless and spasming between the legs.

He’s in burnt orange swim trunks that compliment his skin perfectly and I definitely see a California man before my eyes. His abs are more chiseled than I ever imagined. But I’m hypnotized back up to his beautiful face outlined with his strong jawline, brown eyes and luscious dark hair. He has a skeptical smile covering his face.

“Are you going to kill me?” His expression turns even more worried.

“I’m going to murder Scout and then block her number from your phone and yours from hers.” I plant both hands on my hips and then dash for the towel he sent me into the dressing room with.
Shit, I just probably made thousands of Asian Hulk Hogan fans scream world wide with that stance.

“Stop.” Oren grasps my wrist and pulls me towards him, letting the towel drop to the dressing room floor. “I know Scout was being a bit devilish, planning this date…I mean dinner or friend night out…Shit.” Oren runs his free hand through his hair.

“Date,” I correct him.

“I’ve heard several of the officers talk about this place and well, uh…I wanted to come here with you.”

“You do know this is called the “local soak and poke”, right?”

“I’m aware of how many babies have been made here. But I’ve never been to a natural hot springs resort at night.”

“You do have those puppy dog eyes mastered.”

Thoughts of how many girlfriends he’s had race through my mind. He’s mastered the skillful touch of getting in panties or in my case, Hulk Hogan’s briefs. The picture is masterfully painted before me, breathtaking hunk standing before me, says all the right things, kisses like a god, makes me squirm more than I care to admit…then all the other women he’s crushed and left spilling tears on their pillows flow into view.

He is a certified lady-killer. He takes them down one at a time with his delicious and very devilish brown eyes, then the ladies swoon to his voice, then his smell, and then WHAM the whole package and they are hook, line, and motherfucking sinker. What’s left, you ask? His ding-dong in your sinkhole and like a good little twat in love, you lay down and let him take you in every single position possible, except the butt- butt in the what-what because that simply causes blindness worldwide.

“Olivia.” I look up to Oren staring down at me. “We going in or not?”

“Your Twinkie is getting no where near the sinkhole, you lady killer.”

His familiar rumble of a chuckle fills the air. “Would you like to swim with me or at least get into the warm, comforting water instead of the cool breeze?”

“Oren.”

“Olivia.” He pulls me in closer, cradling my shivering bikini clad red and yellow outfit.

“Don’t break my heart.”

The pads of his fingers brush away tendrils of stray hair framing my face. “I’m not here to break your heart.”

I feel the stray tears stream down my face, rounding my high cheekbones, and pooling into my cleavage. “I’ve opened up to you more than anyone else. Don’t break my heart.”

It’s too painful to look up to him and allow Oren to analyze or even scrutinize every single emotion streaming across my face.

“Olivia, will you jump with me?” I feel him tug us closer to the edge of the outdoor pool. The steam, smell, and feel of the natural water envelopes the both of us, as we’re inches away from the steaming water.

It’s the local attraction that I’ve heard countless stories about and now I’m tiptoeing on the edge with my prince whose promising me a future I know nothing about. My heart is screaming, as I swan dive with hot cop and my brain is sending warning flares of danger up.

I’m left with one final question. “Only if you don’t break my heart, Oren O’Brien.”

His strong biceps tug me just enough over the edge with him until both of our bodies collide into warm, inviting waters. I let all the negative thoughts flow out as I drown into the hopeless, dark, chocolate brown eyes that have so reassured me over the days. He didn’t run when the awkwardness was on full display, he only pulled closer to me.

Holding my breath underwater, I feel his tug, and then when my almond-shaped eyes spring open, it’s him I stare back at underwater. It’s not Officer Ladyboner, Officer Fuck Me, or even Hot Pants, it’s Oren I see reaching out for me. His large palm once again clutches around my wrist and I’m dragged directly back into his vortex as he saves me from drowning in everything of him.

I’m not covered in pasta, sauce, and/or (in my damn case) humiliation…rather bathed in Oren O’Brien, who seems desperately and hopelessly in love with my awkward Asian, Yorkie-loving, and extremely cursed ass.

I gaze at my future and hope in his brown eyes as we surface from the tempting and very warm waters that something deeper lies between us, even if it’s a fling I get to tell my future grandkids about.

I’m certain in this very moment that Oren’s Twinkie, beyond a shadow of a doubt, belongs in one of my orifices and in this moment it could very well be my butt-holio and life would be good.

We both begin to surface at the exact time, but being the gentleman Oren is, he shoots me up first from under the depth of the waters. I gulp, gasp, and struggle to regain my bearing after the masterpiece I was just dunked with.

We both sputter for several seconds before Oren sends me a Kane’s signature headlight finger movement by his left pectoral.

For a fact, I’ll be murdering Scout via a dull ice cream scooper as I stare down at my left tit floating right along between Oren and myself.
Thank fuck, for the obnoxious red and yellow bikini, I mean it has to take some attention away.

“Miss Olander.” I hear a very young and eager voice squeal while my left girl remains to peacefully float in the water between Oren and I. His hands clutch low on my ass pulling me towards him, officially smashing my tit into his wet chest and like clockwork my body sings. Slowly, I swivel towards the voice while remaining locked in Oren’s grasp. He uses his large palm to shield my boobie from the view of the youngster while I tuck her right back down into the Hulk Hogan.

“Amy,” I feign pride and everything a first grade teacher should when I make eye contact with one my students.

“You got arrested?” Little Amy’s vision goes to Oren holding me in his arms. He’s kept me clutched to him, splaying out both of his palms on my belly.

“No.” I wave back while plastering on my best first grade grin for the know it all.

“What are you doing then?” she squeals back, which now has the attention of the entire pool, her parents included.

“Dinner.” His deep yet gentle voice whispers into my ear.

“I’m doing dinner,” I holler back to her without thinking and then turn to Oren. “For the love of God, drown me.”

“Is this a premeditated crime?” he asks with a light chuckle accompanying it.

“Hell yes,” I groan, turning back to Amy and her family.

“Do you know how to swim?”

“Watch this, Miss Olander.”

The little freaking gem rapid fires off umpteen questions before her mother finally does shut her up.

“Amy, out. Your five minutes is up. Time to go.”

I’m pretty sure Amy’s dad saw my tit as he hasn’t taken his view from my floating boobs since the escapee accident. Amy’s parents both wave good-bye as they leave the pool.

“I’m starting to see there’s never a dull moment with you, Olivia.”

“The universe hates me.” I twirl in his arms with my own arms smooshing my boobs together to keep the babies hunkered down. “And don’t complain, I do believe you touched my boob.”

“Just some side boob action. That’s all.” He raises his hands, trying to look innocent.

Using my feet against his knees, I push off of him and begin back floating. The stars in the night sky twinkle back at me and the water next to me swooshes up over my belly and when I tilt my head to the side, Oren’s swimming next to me.

“Wall,” he warns.

I stand up with my toes barely touching the rough bottom cement of the pool. Oren pulls me into his chest with a quick peck to my forehead. My body reacts, wrapping my legs around his center and locking my ankles.

“As much as I want to kill Scout for this, I have to admit this has been the best date of my life.”

“Mine too.”

“Yeah, right; you have a lot to compare it to.”

“I’ve had my fair share.” He crooks his head to the side, “but there’s something I can’t get past with you, Olivia.”

“You’re a fool.” I mimic his head tilt. “You probably look at me like a trophy. You know, racking in the v cards.”

His hand snakes down to my ass and squeezes until it’s painful. “If I could, I’d slap your ass for saying that. I’m not that kind of guy and Olivia you don’t deserve to be treated like that by anyone, especially yourself when you think like that.”

“You know I’m just always waiting for the fall out. I always have been since my mom passed.”

“You deserve the best. You’re gorgeous, kind, caring, and bit of a train wreck waiting to happen.”

My smile widens across my face and it feels good to openly talk to him about this. I really like the feeling of genuinely smiling for the first time in a long time.

“Your smile is dangerous, Olivia.”

“Oh, and thank you for the kiss.” I lean in, grazing his lips with mine. “Kissing is nice. Kissing you Officer Oren O’Brien is real nice.”

The warm water envelopes us, the murmurs of the few other swimmers fade away into the night, as we drift of into a dark corner of the pool locked in the most breathtaking, ovary stimulating kiss known to mankind.