"Use Me" with Olivia Holt

[Kaden05]

"Use Me"
With Olivia Holt
Written By Kaden05
CODES: Oral, M/F, Dominance, Slight Degradation
DISCLAIMER: This was written for entertainment purposes only
A/N: Picked Up From Olivia Holt Story Ideas



Jack Greer ambled down the darkened hallway with a clipboard and an ever-present headset chirping in his ear. With the ease and assuredness of a seasoned pro, the team lead artfully weaved through the backstage crew's hustle and bustle, all scurrying about like good little worker bees. Given Hollywood's political, social, and financial mishaps (complete swinging for the fences and missing horribly typed blunders, if he was honest), lately, every A-list celebrity music video crew member worked like they were freshly minted interns and could lose their jobs tomorrow.

Unlike most of his crew members, Jack Greer didn't feel the ever-mounting, ever-present pressure to prove himself to the celebrity in question, the producers, or the music studio higher-ups. After all, why should he? Several years ago, he had negotiated an ironclad contract to work in many different departments behind the scenes, every single experience propelling him to his ultimate goal of being a world-renowned photographer.

"Jack, buddy, you there?"

One of the producers' tired, stressed-out voices crackled through Jack's headset, and he flattened himself against the hallway wall to focus.

"Yes, sir. What do you need?"

"How often do I have to tell you to knock that sir crap off when we're on a private channel? You've worked for me long enough to call me by name."

"At least one more time, sir. How can I help?"

Jack didn't mind showing deference and respect to the higher-ups... when it was earned, and the current producer (there were a whopping eight producers on set today for the first run-through of the music video) had treated Jack well enough over the years and constantly gave him opportunities to prove himself. When this specific producer called to ask for help or needed a favor, Jack snapped to attention.

"Unfortunately, you're on bitch duty, Jack. One of the interns had to go home sick, something about feeling woozy and lightheaded, and I need you to go to Ms. Holt's dressing room to let her know she's needed on set in twenty minutes."

"Got it, on my way."

"Use the color system to let me know what state mentally and physically she's in, yeah? No need to waste everyone's time for another Lindsay Lohan-type day."

"I understand. See you in thirty minutes."

Jack chuckled as he pushed off the wall and headed to Olivia Holt's dressing room. As far as celebrities go, the former Disney starlet ranked in the middle; not the worst bitchy attitude, but not the most welcoming or friendly. Jack hadn't interacted with the Chicago musical star yet, hadn't planned on it either, and in his photography team lead role, he had few chances for any alone time with Olivia Holt.

He managed the day-to-day minutiae for the principal photographer and organized the different personnel and elements of the photography team (okay, ordered a bunch of interns and low on the totem pole crew members around).

A few minutes and twists and turns later, Jack stopped outside the closed dressing room door belonging to Olivia Holt and went to knock when he noticed the door wasn't closed all the way. Typically Hollywood celebrities ensured their doors were tightly closed and locked for privacy.

Speculative rumors and wild stories were rampant, but it all boiled down to a few reasons: the celebrity was asleep, showering, getting high on their drug of choice, eating with friends and family, or engaging in some sexual act with their reported boyfriend/girlfriend (even the occasional crew member for those lucky few).

All crew members were trained to knock and wait for a response. It was a cardinal, termination-worthy sin for a crew member to enter the celebrities' dressing room uninvited, and Jack had seen it happen often. Still, something told him to press forward, a tingling on the back of his neck, and he eased the door open.

The cute visage of a dressed-down Olivia Holt greeted him, the starlet standing in front of her large, bright dressing room mirror and taking a selfie. A loose, comfortable pair of jeans adorned her slightly curvy hips, a thin white camisole hugging her torso with a grey hoodie draped around her neck. A thick pair of headphones over her ears and oversized dark sunglasses explained why she hadn't heard Jack knock or seen her door crack open.

Before Jack could grab her attention, Olivia finished her selfie, clicked around on her phone screen, and set her phone down on the table before launching herself on her bed. The former Cloak and Dagger actress carelessly yanked off her headphones and glasses, tossing both items further down on the bed, and wiggled out of her jeans.

Now, Jack knew what was expected of him, having mentally calculated that he had eighteen minutes left before Olivia was needed on set. He also knew how hard the blonde-haired actress had been working, making a conscious effort to focus on her music (he didn't know if she was any good, having never listened to her songs), and getting some stress relief wasn't a bad idea for Olivia.

He should be a gentleman and close the door, waiting a few moments before knocking again. Having not gotten laid or gotten any action for a few weeks, the horny part of Jack's brain overruled the logical part, and Jack checked up and down the hallway to make sure it was clear. Fortunately, Oliva Holt's dressing room was off the beaten path, a benefit of being the star of the show, and Jack dared to open the door a little more, providing him a better view.

By this time, Olivia was running her fingers up and down the inside of her smooth thighs, little coos and mewls escaping her lips. Occasionally, a fingertip or two would stray further up, fleetingly rubbing over her panty-clad mound, and she would sigh every time. A wet stain began to form on the light blue fabric, the mesh cutout stripes affording Jack a teasing view of Olivia's pussy. He stood too far away to tell if she was baby smooth or had a little fuzz, but his eyes drew upwards when Olivia's hands trailed over her panties again and up her flat stomach.

As if she knew she had little time, the former Marvel actress pushed her camisole up over her pert, perky breasts and palmed her B-cup tits in her hands. A groan escaped her pursed lips, and Jack hardened further in his jeans as he stared at Olivia Holt's bare breasts. One hand kneaded the supple tit flesh, and the other rubbed her panties again, affording Jack a good view of Olivia's nudish-pink-colored nipple.

"Oh, please... please don't tease me, sir. Oooooh yess... that's good... soo good."

Jack looked up and down the hallway again as Olivia cried out and moaned in the privacy of her dressing room. The fantasy playing behind her tightly screwed-shut eyes gripped her fully, and the hand stroking her mound over her panties slid underneath the sodden fabric to stroke her pussy directly. A sharp, breathy cry escaped Olivia as she rubbed her pussy, and her other hand pinched and twisted her nipple harshly. The innocent-looking minx liked to play a little rough, huh?

"Sir, please, oh, oh, sir, please! You can't fuck me here. Everyone could see! Oooooh siiiiiiirrrr..."

Jack risked opening his pants and stroking his hard-as-steel cock at the beautiful, sexy image and sounds of Olivia Holt masturbating. Add a little public exhibition and being dominated to her rough play kinks.

"You started it, sir. Oh, mmm. You talked back to me and called me a slut because my pretty nipples were poking through my shirt. You can't call me that, oh yes, please, sir, harder, faster. Mooooooorrrreeee..."

By this time, Olivia had abandoned her abused tit, and both hands were jammed deep down her panties. Jack figured one hand was finger-blasting her sopping pussy while the other rubbed furiously at her clit.

"Oh no! Don't cum in me, sir. Please. Ooooh yes! Yes! Yes! Your cum feels so good! Aaaaaah!"

Impressively, as Olivia's naughty fantasy brought her to a passionate, explosive peak, the Chicago starlet's back arched up high in the air, hands furiously working in her panties, and the actress shrieked as she came hard. Olivia held that pose without moving for two minutes before she collapsed bonelessly back onto the bed, a dreamy well-sated sigh escaping her lips.

Jack came with a wordless groan at the image and sound of Oliva Holt moaning as she licked her cum-covered fingers. Four solid streaks of cum erupted from his cock and blasted onto Olivia's dressing room door. Thankfully, Jack caught himself on the wall next to her dressing room, taking several deep breaths to collect himself. After he calmed down, he zipped up his pants, cleared his throat, and knocked on Olivia's door.

"Ms. Holt? You're needed on set in ten minutes."

It wasn't until after he spoke, did Jack realize he hadn't closed Olivia's door, and he stepped back out of sight (he could still see the half-naked actress). The beautiful Kicking It actress gasped and fumbled about, trying to make herself decent.

"Okay! I'll meet you there!"

Jack chuckled but gave her privacy as he stepped away from the door and waited several feet down the hall for the actress to appear. His mind raced with endless horny, dark thoughts. Fantasies and scenarios formed in his head as quickly as they disappeared. Would he be bold enough to enact what Olivia Holt so clearly wanted?

"Sir? Ms. Holt will be on set shortly and is green across the board."

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Over the next few days, Jack ensured he didn't enter Olivia Holt's direct space and stayed out on the peripherals. He didn't want her to keep remembering her masturbation session and how he possibly may have overheard her getting off. Both the actress-singer and production crew worked hard to complete her music video, and the project chugged forward like a well-oiled locomotive.

"Jack. Jack!"

The likable producer from earlier called his name and waved his hand to grab Jack's attention. Jack wandered over, noticing the large box sitting on a dolly in front of the producer and the producer tapping away on his iPad while whisper yelling into his headset. The producer noticed Jack and kicked the dolly.

"I know I've been asking you to do a lot of bitch work lately, but I have all the interns and peons putting out fires across set right now. Can you take this package to our lovely celebrity star's dressing room?"

"Sure thing."

"Here, take my keycard to get in, and it goes without saying, do not open the package."

Jack chuckled, took the keycard, and nodded as he pushed the dolly. He winded his way down the hallways, through the busier than usual hustle and bustle of the crew members, and unlocked Olivia Holt's dressing room. He wheeled the dolly inside, shut the door behind him, and maneuvered the package to be next to the Kickin It starlets dressing room table.

Turning around with the dolly to leave, he noticed Olivia's messy, cluttered dressing room. Her numerous suitcases were open, contents spilling out, and clothes and makeup scattered everywhere. In particular, he noticed several colorful skimpy panties and bras on the foot of her bed. A dangerous mix of curiosity and horniness overwhelmed Jack, and he ambled over for a closer look.

He picked up the panties first, feeling the smooth cotton and lacy scraps of colorful fabrics (red, black, blue, and white with many shades of pink) in various designs (two plain solid cotton bikini style, several lacy thongs, and also many daring barely there panties with cutouts) and the bras all matched. Some of the bras were obviously for show, barely functional or supportive, and he noticed many of them had bows in the middle connecting the cups.

A plan started to form in Jack's head, and he took two or three bras and panties and stuffed them in his kit bag (all crew members wore them). He fiddled with a suitcase and whistled as he strode out of the dressing room and returned to the set.

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"Excuse me. Excuse me, Ms. Holt!"

Jack pretended to hurry after the more petite, blonde-haired actress and held up a hand. The actress stopped, turned around, and regarded him with an indifferent, almost frosty stare. Today had not been Olivia Holt's day, seemingly the cosmos conspiring against her in never-ending cruel ways.

"I'm sorry to bother you, miss, as I'm sure you want nothing more than to retire for the evening, but you forgot some items on your way to set at the start of the day today."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I have everything I need."

Jack smiled, seasoned enough in reading people to see that the fierce demeanor staring at him from those glowering hazel eyes was a façade, the actress' house of cards one step away from imploding. Usually, he would keep at least a foot between him and a female crew member, especially if it was a female celebrity (Amber Heard may have made a laughing stock of the #MeToo movement, but better safe than sorry). Still, he knew, given what Olivia's fantasy was, closer than six inches would be better.

"I understand, miss. I do. However, given your luggage mishap this morning, a few pieces of your attire were collected, and given their intimate nature, I didn't think you wanted them returned to you on set. Today was hectic, a day for the ages, and I wanted to return these items to you in private."

Jack spoke to Olivia in a low, slower speech pattern, keeping his face neutral and looking her in the eyes. With the short distance between them, six inches at the start and now less than, Jack saw her eyes widen, and her cheeks turned a pretty rosy pink. He knew she knew precisely which suitcase had split open this morning (Jack's machinations from his time in her dressing room proved fruitful). Her eyes darted about, but Jack knew they were alone, and he waited for her to speak.

"That's… that's…thank you. I'll take those items back now."

"Here?"

"Y-yes, p-please."

Interestingly, the day's stress overwhelmed Olivia, and her voice warbled as tears misted her eyes. Jack's expression changed to one of concern, his training and experience telling him he needed to get ahold of a person from Olivia's inner circle/posse because the starlet was one misstep away from a complete breakdown. He knew today had been terrible for everyone on set, anything and everything seemingly going wrong, and the production schedule was set back by a few days at least.

"Okay. I know this is bold of me, miss, but you don't appear to be doing well. Can I escort you back to your dressing room?"

"Yes, please. I'd like that. I don't need anyone else seeing me like this."

Without a word, Jack took her backpack from her, slung it over his shoulder, and with one hand pressing on her lower back, he extended his other arm toward her dressing room. Olivia swayed on her feet alarmingly, and Jack pulled her close with the hand on her lower back sliding around her waist. Olivia didn't start, or make a sound, choosing to bury herself further into his side, and Jack knew he needed to get her to her dressing room soon.

He knew the Hollywood types were melodramatic, pushy, and theatrical, but his gut told him this wasn't an act. As fast as he dared, he led the actress to her dressing room, and she unlocked it without a word.
The absurdity of the situation tickled Jack's mind, but he pushed those thoughts away to get Olivia settled in her dressing room and hopefully where she could crash (emotionally, mentally, physically, Jack didn't know) safely. Olivia's slumped form fell onto her bed, her face in her hands, and Jack set her backpack on the floor at the foot of her bed.

"I'll leave you alone, Ms. Holt. Is there anyone I can get for you?"

"No!"

Jack stilled at Olivia's alarmed cry, and her tear-stained face beseeched him to stay. Jack shut the door and stood in front of her (once again closer than he usually dared) with his hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans.

"P-please don't go. I don't want anyone else to see me like this. Can, can I ask you to sit with me for a while?"

"Sure. Would you like something to drink?"

Olivia snorted and looked at me quizzically for a moment. She tilted her head to the side and placed her face in her hand, her legs crossed over at the knees.

"I haven't seen you on set before, but your voice sounds familiar. Oh! I remember."

Jack resisted the urge to smirk as Olivia's eyes lit up with recognition, but her cheeks flushed immediately afterward.

"What you do in your private time behind closed doors, Ms. Holt is for you alone and not something for me to share. I know how hard you've been working, and it sounded like you needed a little relief. Now, what can I get you? Or are you calmed down enough that you want me to leave?"

"You are an interesting man. What's your name?"

"Jack Greer."

Olivia didn't say anything and bent over to unbuckle her ankle boots. Without looking up, she pointed toward the small fridge across the room.

"Vodka and chasers are in the fridge. You seem to be a man that can be discrete and value one's privacy. I trust you'll keep this messy situation private and join me for a drink?"

"Of course, Ms. Holt."

Jack went to the fridge and pulled out a half-full bottle of top-tier vodka and a bottle of orange juice. It wasn't his usual choice of drink, but given the situation (current and developing) and his drinking partner, he quickly made two strong glasses. He pulled up a metal folding chair and sat before Olivia as he handed her one of the drinks. She took it, her fingers brushing against his, and she thanked him with a flirty wink.

"Please, you've seen me break down and ugly cry. Olivia is fine."

"Olivia, it is then."

They clinked glasses, and after taking a healthy sip, Jack reached into his kit back and pulled out a black lacy thong, barely there pink panties with a darker pink bow at the center waistband, and the matching bras. He set them down in Olivia's lap and took another sip of his drink as he smirked at her. Olivia flushed, choking on her drink but then grinned mischievously.

"This probably made your day, knowing some of my preferences in underwear and my bra size."

"I've always appreciated women with good panty choices, and I could already guess your bra size."

"Oh? Do tell."

Olivia regarded him over her glass with one eyebrow raised. Jack grinned and set his empty glass on the floor beside his chair.

"I know you don't know who I am, and I don't blame you. I'll tell you that I've worked in many different departments on a production set, two of the most memorable being costume design and photography. I've also worked in logistics and project management. I've seen men and women in various states of undress, had to grab and alter their clothing, and developed an eye for detail. Guessing your bra size of 32b is one of the easiest things I've done on set."

Instead of being offended, Olivia laughed, finished her drink, and saluted him with her empty glass. She held out her glass and shook it. Jack took it and made her another drink before returning to his seat.

"Oh, you are clever, Jack. And bold, very bold."

"We both know that being bold in this industry, you as an actress and myself as a production crew member, is how you make a name for yourself."

A few moments of silence settled over the room, and Olivia stared at the contents of her second glass as she swirled it around. Jack could tell something was on her mind, and he waited for her to build up the courage to voice the thought out loud.

"Did you hear me... the other day?"

Olivia didn't look up, a heavy blush dusting her cheeks, and Jack grinned quickly before schooling his expression.

"I did. What of it? You sounded like you needed it, and I haven't shared that memory with anyone."

"Oh goodness. This is embarrassing."

Olivia took a healthy gulp of her drink, still refusing to meet Jack's gaze. Jack leaned in closer and grasped her knee with one hand while lifting her face to meet his gaze with his other hand. Olivia gasped at Jack's forwardness but didn't flinch away, her breathing quickening and her eyes widening in anticipation or nervousness Jack wasn't sure.

"Don't be embarrassed. I found it extremely arousing to hear your arousal, and the sight of you squirming about as you got off is a memory I'll remember for a long time."

"Jack, I don't, I'm not, what..."

Nervousness began to outweigh the desire and arousal in Olivia's eyes, and Jack didn't want this opportunity to slip away. He tightened his grip on her knee and chin and scooted closer, his six-foot-three frame looming large in Olivia's space.

"I heard you, Olivia Holt. I know what your fantasy was about. I know you want to lose yourself in the throes of passion while under someone else's control, and you want to be ravished."

A breathy moan escaped Olivia before she could control it, and her eyes widened. Jack grinned and slid his hand from her knee to her inner thigh.

"You want to be a good girl, don't you, Olivia?"

"Y-yes..."

"You want to be my good girl, don't you?"

Olivia couldn't articulate an answer, and Jack knew he had her, another higher-pitched breathy moan escaping her mouth. He stood up, his right hand travelling up Olivia's neck, tracing the side of her face and gripping her silky blonde hair. He tightened his grip and jerked her head back so she looked up at him.

"I want you to say it, Olivia Holt. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you want me to do to you."

Olivia's eyes shut, she swallowed heavily, and when her eyes opened, her pupils were gone, completely dilated.

"Oh, sir. Please, sir. Use me. Use me, sir. Wreck me. Make me forget my name. Please, sir."

Triumphantly Jack sneered down at her and thrust his hips forward. Olivia mouthed over his denim-covered bulge without a word, whimpering the entire time.

"You know what to do slut."

Olivia's shoulders trembled at Jack's name-calling, and she unbuckled Jack's belt. She unsnapped his jeans and hurriedly lowered his zipper before pulling his boxers down. Jack's cock sprung forth, hard, thick, and pulsing. Olivia moaned, rubbing both her cheeks along his shaft before licking the weeping head of his cock.

"That's a good girl. Lube me up and blow me like the two-dollar whore you are."

Olivia didn't hesitate, licking his cock head and up and down his shaft. Without hesitating, she ducked lower and treated his balls to a sloppy, wet tongue bath and sucking them deep into her mouth. Jack groaned, the pleasure exquisite, and Olivia returned to his cock head. Keeping her gaze locked with his, she sucked hard on the head of his cock, her cheeks hollowing in at the effort, and she slid down a few inches on his shaft. She slid back up and down several times before Jack growled in frustration.

He shoved her down, her eyes widening and beginning to water as inch after inch of his cock meat rammed down her throat. She reflexively gagged, spit and drool spilling out of the sides of her mouth, but Jack kept relentlessly pushing her down until her lips touched his pubes.

"Ah, yes. That's my good girl. You take me so well."

Jack kept his cock down Olivia's throat until she gagged uncontrollably and let her back up. She gasped for air, her mascara ruined and running in dark streaks down her face. Jack held off for a minute, and Olivia hurriedly grabbed him by his ass. She pulled him forward, smooshing his cock into her face, and frantically began to kiss and suck any inch of his cock and balls she could.

"No. Don't stop, sir. Keep going. This slut wants it. This slut can take it."

"Take it deep, then."

Olivia swallowed down his cock with a deep moan and sloppy gurgle. She choked on his cock, one hand playing with his balls and the other in the tight space between her open jeans and under her panties. Jack drew his cock out of her mouth and slapped her with three heavy slaps of his meaty cock. Olivia moaned, eyes wide, and Jack glared at the horny blonde on her wide-spread knees.

"Did I tell you to play with yourself? Get your hand out of your panties. Place both hands behind your back and interlock your fingers."

Reluctantly Olivia did as Jack ordered, and Jack slapped her with his heavy cock again for good measure. He gripped her tightly by her hair and thrust his cock deep into her throat again. Feeling his balls churn, Jack face fucked the A-list starlet and came with a loud grunt. Like a true slut Olivia didn't miss a beat and swallowed all his thick streams of cum without hardship or complaint.

"Clean me up and make me presentable like a good girl."

"Yes, sir."

Olivia cleaned his cock and tucked him back into his pants. She obediently stayed on her knees, and Jack caressed her cheek.

"How is my good girl doing?"

Olivia turned her face further into his hand and sighed as she closed her eyes.

"I'm good, sir. I'm happy."

"You did a good job, Olivia. Do you want to cum?"

Olivia's eyes snapped open in delight, and she nodded so hard Jack thought her head would fall off. Jack chuckled and nodded to her bed.

"Get up on the bed and strip to your bra and panties."

In under a minute, Olivia Holt lay naked except for the tiny pink bra with darker pink stripes along the cups; her modest breasts pushed up to give the illusion of deeper cleavage. The matching pink striped panties with the bow in the center were practically molded to her pussy with how wet she was. Jack desperately wanted to take a picture but wasn't sure if that would ruin the fantasy and push it too far. Deciding to risk it, he took out his phone and snapped several photos.

At first, Olivia flushed and covered as much of herself as she could by crossing her arms across her chest and clamping her legs shut. When Jack glared at her in clear disapproval, Olivia slowly relaxed into the bed and thrust her hips and chest up.

"That's it. Such a good girl for me. Lose the bra, sweetheart."

The blonde-haired seductress' bra came off with a quick shimmy and snap of her fingers. She proudly thrust her breasts up for his approval, and Jack admired the pointy, swollen nipples on top of her tanned skin.

"Sir, may I ask a favor?"

"You may."

"Lose your pants, sir. Please."

Jack stalked over to the bed, slapping Olivia on the inside of both thighs to get her to spread her legs, and he pushed them as wide as she could comfortably manage. He bent at the waist, looming over her, and glared deep into her darkened hazel eyes. Olivia's breath caught, her breasts rising and falling sharply, and Jack pinched the inside of her right thigh. Olivia mewled and squirmed as she bit her lower lip.

"Don't presume to think you can tell me what to do. You are my good girl and slut."

"Yes, sir. Yes, I am. I'm sorry, sir. Please forgive me."

Without a word, Jack knelt between Olivia's wide-spread legs and smirked as her breath caught. He breathed deeply over her panty-clad mound, dragging his nose over the sodden fabric, and Olivia squirmed. He allowed it for a moment and dragged her panties down her legs.

Clear, sticky strings of wet arousal clung to her panties, and her perfectly shaved, smooth pussy was revealed to him at last. Olivia moaned. Jack thought in embarrassment at how aroused she was, and Jack pocketed her soaked panties.

"Such a pretty pussy. You're so wet. So slutty. Your slit is trying to hide your pussy, making you look so innocent."

Olivia moaned and squirmed again at his words and hot breath on her cunt. His control slipping, Jack devoured her pussy, lips latching onto her swollen labia and his tongue spearing deep into her welcoming slit. Olivia spiralled, howling her pleasure, out into her dressing room, and Jack hastily grabbed her discarded shirt. He reached up, shoved it into her mouth, and glared. She nodded, biting down hard onto her shirt, and Jack smirked as he returned to feasting on her sweet-tasting pussy.

He knew time was short, and despite wanting to tease and edge her into pleasure-drunk madness, Jack worked her clit with his tongue in direct, short licks. He eased a finger into her and slipped a second finger into her welcoming warmth after a moment of mewls and groans. Olivia thrashed about, riding his fingers, trying to get more contact on her clit, and Jack hooked his fingers along the front wall of her pussy every time he pulled his fingers out.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmph!"

A muffled grunt escaped from behind Olivia Holt's blocked mouth, and she squirted heavily into Jack's open mouth. Her hips shook, the molten hot depths of her silky inner pussy walls clamping down hard on his fingers, and Jack mercilessly kept rubbing her engorged clit and along the spongy tissue. After another minute, Olivia weakly pushed him away, and Jack stood up, wiping his dripping chin.

"T-thank you s-sir."

"You did well. Such a good girl."

Jack slid Olivia's near-boneless form underneath the bed covers and tucked her in. He picked up all the clothes on the floor and dumped them in the laundry basket in the corner. Olivia snuggled deeper into her pillow and raised a bare arm out to him. Her fingers wiggled, and Jack returned to her side.

"Can you get my phone?"

"Sure."

Jack grabbed her phone from her purse and handed it to her. After a few attempts, she shakily unlocked it and pulled up a blank contact card. Jack entered his number with a pleased smirk and placed her phone on her bedside dresser.

"Sleep well, Ms. Holt. Feel better in the morning."

Olivia waved and hummed sleepily at him in reply. Jack chuckled and left her dressing room feeling like the cat that ate the canary.

[MacDennis]

Oh my dear lord. That was hot as fuck.