Cover Model (13 page)

“No.”

“Fine,” I grumble. That’s when I realize my nipples are hard not because of the warm summer evening weather, but because wearing no underwear in a vaguely public place (there’s no one in the parking structure) while in the presence of Connor Hughes is turning me on. I guess I have an exhibitionist streak I didn’t know about. I smile to myself.

Two minutes later, we’re standing in the marble-floored lobby of the hotel. The main bar off the lobby is crowded, but no one notices us as we approach the concierge desk.

A cute young woman smiles at us from behind the desk. “How can I help you two?” She has a blonde chignon and wears the resort’s standard burgundy blazer and gray slacks. Her gold name tag reads
Finch Barksdale
.

“Hey,” Connor smiles at her. “I’m a guest here. You guys have a laundry service, right?”

“Of course,” Finch says.

“You think you can run a load or two for us?” Connor holds up the basket.

“It would be my pleasure. What room are you two staying in?”

I say, “We’re not staying—”

“714,” Connor cuts in.

“Excellent,” Finch says, reaching over the counter to take the basket from Connor.

His phone chimes in his pocket. “Hold on. I gotta take this call.” He walks back toward the stairwell, already muttering to whoever is on the line.

“Your boyfriend is
hot
,” Finch says in a low voice.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I say nervously.

“He’s not?” She seems doubtful. She also notices my outfit for the first time, but doesn’t say anything.

I guess Connor was right about no one noticing. “We, uh, knew each other in high school.”

Finch frowns, “You better get on that, girlfriend. You don’t want a guy like that getting away.”

“He—we—” I sigh. “It’s complicated.”

She nods compassionately, her face serious. “Guys that hot always are. My friend River dated this guy named Drakken who was that hot, and he was drama drama drama.” She rolls her eyes.

“In other words, I should end things before the drama gets any worse? Wait. I didn’t mean
end
things, because there is no thing. He and I are nothing.”

“Are you sure?” she asks coyly.

I glance at Connor’s back. “I am
sure
sure.”

Her face brightens. “In that case, since you don’t want him, can I have him? I haven’t had a man in
forever
. Maybe he could break my dry spell?” She looks at me hopefully.

I’m suddenly tense. Every muscle in my body locks up like bridge cables. This isn’t my normal state of tension. It’s a hundred times worse.

“I’m sorry,” Finch says. “I didn’t mean to step on your toes.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I really don’t mind. There’s really nothing going on between us.”

“Are you sure? Because I could’ve sworn you were ready to claw my eyes out a second ago.”

“What? No! I’m not, I mean, you can—” I stop myself when I realize how ridiculous my denials must sound.

“Maybe you guys need to mend some fences and move past whatever is holding you back. That guy obviously likes you.”

Memories of grad night gnaw at me. I shake my head. “I think
hate
is a more appropriate word.”

“Hate? He’s doing your laundry for you. That’s not hate, girlfriend. That’s love.”

I scowl.

I hate that she’s right.

Chapter 8

CONNOR

“How was your dinner with the Warner Brothers people?” I ask Gloria, trying to sound friendly.

“Draining. Don’t ask. Why didn’t you answer my call earlier?” she whines.

“What call?”

“I called you an hour ago.”

“You did?”

“Yes I did. Why didn’t you answer?”

“I didn’t hear the phone ring,”

A group of guys in business suits coming out of one of the hotel elevators erupts in laughter as they pass by.

Gloria asks, “Where are you?”

“At the hotel. What do you want?” My right hand is still covered in black ink from that damn Sharpie I broke signing autographs earlier. That shit never comes off. I stuff my hand in my jeans.

“I’m lonely,” she pouts. “Come over, Connor.”

Jesus fuckin Christ. She always does this. “So watch a movie.”

“Come
over
.” She sounds fourteen.

“I’m busy.”

“Too busy for your agent? With what?” Now she sounds thirty- or forty-whatever she is. She keeps her age a trade secret.

“Doing what you told me. I’m schmoozing the fans.”

“At the hotel? The convention closed at six or something, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I glance over at the crowded hotel bar and see the sea of pink Rom Com Con t-shirts. “But a group of fans kidnapped me,” I lie. “They’re staying here at the hotel and they’ve been buying me drinks all night.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re too busy with a bunch of desperate horny housewives to have time for me?”

“Whose desperate and horny now?” I try to sound as flirtatious and fun as possible. I don’t want to deal with her shit right now.

“I’m always desperate and horny for you, Connor. Come over. I’ll suck that thick cock of yours and let you come in my face.”

“You always let me come in your face,” I chuckle. “You’ll have to offer more than that if you want me over.”

Gloria is always horny as hell. You’d think it was her biological clock, but she wants kids about as much as she wants an STD. She’s too busy living the Hollywood lifestyle to make time for anyone other than herself.

“Anything you want, Connor,” she says seductively.

“You gonna let me fuck you in the ass?” In reality, I don’t give a shit about ass fuckin one way or the other, no pun intended. I’ve back-doored plenty of hotties. It’s been a thing with women my age for years. But Gloria missed that ship and she fuckin
hates
the idea. I’m just saying it to turn her off so she’ll back down.

“You know I don’t like anal, Connor. Your cock is too big…” she giggles.

“If you let me fuck your ass, I’ll be right over.”

“Con-
nor,
” she whines.

“Come on, G. You know how bad I wanna fuck your ass.”

“No, Connor!” Suddenly she sounds like she’s reprimanding a kid.

That shit pisses me off. I’m not her fuckin plaything. “I gotta go, G.”

She explodes with jealous rage. “Fine! Have fun with your fans, Connor! I’m sure all of them would
love
to let you fuck them in the ass! Just remember who your agent is.
Connor
.” She says my name like I’m a piece of shit.

I don’t know what she’s bitching about. When it comes to ass pains, she’s given me more than her fair share.

“I can hear you smirking, Connor.”

I’m not smirking. I’m rolling my eyes. Gloria’s jealousy is older than dinosaurs and I’m over it.

“You’re not hot shit, Connor. You’re just a book cover model. I have plenty of
talent
that earns ten times what you do.”

By
talent
she means the other hot young guys she reps.

Now I’m pissed. “So go fuck one of them, Gloria. Or did all of them get sick of your shit already?”

“Fuck you, Connor,” she hisses before hanging up.

Fuck her.

I shove my phone in my pocket and stare at my ink black hand. I clench it into a fist. I don’t know why I’m still using Gloria as an agent anyway. Fuckin controlling bitch.

Anger flares up and my skin starts to itch.

I don’t need to put up with her bullshit.

I don’t need to be a fuckin male model.

And I don’t need the fuckin money.

—scream-scream-scream-scream—

My whole world spins as the memories hit me like a shotgun blast. I stumble and find the nearest wall to lean against so I don’t fall over.

“Dude, are you okay?” a bellhop asks as he pushes an empty bellman’s cart past me. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m good. Thanks, man.” Only now I’m bent over with my hands on my knees like I got sucker-punched in the gut.

—it will get worse over time without surgery—

“You sure? You don’t look too good.”

“I’m okay. Really. Thanks.”

“Maybe you should sit down for a minute. Do you need some water or something?”

“Thanks, man” I wince, my voice strained. “I’ll be fine. Gettin over a bad cold,” I lie. “I was sick for two weeks.”

He nods, “Some bad viruses going around. Take it easy.” He wheels his cart across the lobby.

I finally manage to stand up straight. I wipe my forehead and it’s covered in clammy sweat. I gotta get my shit together before Electra sees me like this.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

ELECTRA

“Who was that on the phone?” I ask. Why do I feel like I’m prying?

“Nobody,” Connor sighs, his eyes dancing around evasively.

“One of your girlfriends?”

He shakes his head, “It was my agent. She can be a ballbuster. I’m supposed to answer the phone whenever she calls in case it’s some big deal bullshit.”

“Oh. I know what you mean. My editor at
Trending
is the same way. He’s a pain in my ass most of the time.”

“Right?” Connor agrees, smiling. “Can’t live with ‘em, can’t kill ‘em.”

“Something like that,” I giggle.

“Ready for that drink?”

“About that. I’m kind of tired. Can I take a raincheck?”

“You only live once, Warmoth.”

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow? My feet are pretty sore from walking around all day in these pumps. I’ll feel a lot better after a good night’s rest.”

“I’m not taking no for an answer.” He grins.

His grin is difficult to resist. I sigh, considering. “Can we just have a drink at the main bar here in the hotel?”

“That’s a bad idea.”

“Why?”

The entire bar area is filled with women in pink Rom Com Con attendee T-shirts.

“
It’s him!
” Some random women squeals.

And like that, dozens of faces turn to gawk at Connor and I. They all stare, wide-eyed and hopeful.

“
It’s Connor Hughes!!
” The women start filtering out of the bar, creeping toward us uncertainly.

“That’s why,” he grimaces, “Let’s get out of here.” He drags me to the stairs and we exit through the parking garage on foot.

My feet are killing me by the time we get to the bottom of the resort’s long driveway. “How far is it to Sunset?”

“Do you want me to call an Uber car?”

“I can make it.” I may have blisters by the time we get there, but I’ll suck it up.

“Fuck that. I’ll call one.”

“How chivalrous of you.” I mean it.

Five minutes later, a guy driving a Nissan sedan picks us up and drives us to the Sunset Strip. Keenly aware of my lack of panties, I keep my knees squeezed together the entire time. When we arrive, I ask Connor, “Do you need any money?”

“I got it on my credit card. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks.”

He climbs out and offers his left hand.

“Such a gentleman,” I smile, taking his hand. I suddenly worry he’ll see up my skirt. Then I realize maybe I
want
him to look. I slide my ass across the seat, feeling the contours of the cushions rubbing against my swollen desire. When my pumps touch the sidewalk, I let my legs open. With my skirt on, they don’t open very wide, but I feel like a slut letting it all hang out like this. It’s not like there’s a bunch of photo spot lights shining on me, but the soft glow of neon from all the lights on Sunset is more than enough for Connor to catch a glimpse.

He smirks and stares between my legs. “Do you want me to push you back in that car and roll your skirt up so I can fuck you on the back seat?”

If it wasn’t for the fact that the driver totally smells like Corn Nuts and is watching all this, I would instantly say yes. I nod toward the driver, “We can’t…”

“Fine. I’ll push you up against the nearest wall and fuck you like the secret slut that you are.”

“I’m not a slut,” I protest.

“But you wanna be. Every woman does whether they admit it to themselves or not.”

“You’re
such
a manwhore, Connor.”

He helps me climb out of the car. “And proud of it. Let’s get inside a club or I really am gonna fuck you.”

I linger for just a second, considering his threat. Why does all this sound so damn yummy?

On the sidewalk, I purposefully hang back for a few seconds so I can steal a glance at Connor’s ass while he walks. It looks incredible in his tight black jeans. I picture it thrusting in and out of me. Oh,
gawd
…

He stops up ahead and turns. “Are you coming?”

“
Uhhhh
… yeah! Coming!” Why does his butt have to be so
perfect
?

At a stop light, we wait before crossing the nearly gridlocked Sunset Boulevard. The Strip is party central pretty much around the clock. When the light changes, a random guy in a blazer crosses toward us. An unlit cigarette dangles from his lips as he searches his pockets. He nods at Connor, “Yo, man. You gotta light?”

“Sorry, bro,” Connor says, “I quit.”

The guy chuckles, “You and me both. I’ve already quit thirteen times.”

“Fourteenth’s the charm,” Connor grins as we pass the man.

“You quit?” I marvel. “You
always
had a cigarette in your mouth. It was your trademark.”

Connor smirks, “When I started getting winded after running for two minutes, I decided it was time to ditch the cancer sticks. Smoking and cross training aren’t a good fit.”

“Makes sense. It’s better for your health anyway.”

“What do you care?”

“I don’t
really
care,” I grin sarcastically. “I just don’t like the idea of people getting cancer when they could avoid it. My concern is more of a general one. It applies to everybody. Even big jerks like you,” I giggle.

“The only thing big about me is my—”

“Don’t say it!”

“I was going to say that the only thing big about me is my heart.” He bats his eyelashes comically.

I break into laughter. “Ha! That is
so
not true.”

“What do you know, War Mouth? You don’t know what I’ve been up to for the past seven years.” He sounds amused, not angry. “Maybe I rescue puppies and kittens and volunteer at an old folks home.”