Cover Model (20 page)

“Fuck, I’m dying, Lex.” He grits his teeth, his sweaty face inches from mine.

“Come inside me, Connor. Fill me up with your cum.”

He rocks into me savagely and I savor his explosive orgasm.

Make that five. His passion fires mine and I come one last time.

Five orgasms.

I lean against him, spent.

He breathes heavily, the last spasms of his orgasm fading inside me. My clit is still singing. This is the best feeling ever. Me. Him. Our bodies locked together in the afterglow of incredible sex. I never want it to end.

But we’re at my work. Someone could walk into the copier room any second. I’m surprised someone hasn’t already.

“We should…” I whisper.

“Yeah.”

When he reluctantly withdraws from me, I rest my hands on the glass of the copy machine I’m sitting on.

Oh, shit.

Copy machine?

I look around the room.

There is a literal snow drift of photo copies on the floor beside the copier. “Connor?” My voice shakes as I slide off the machine and push my skirt down.

“Yeah?” He tosses his condom in the trash on the far side of the copier before I can stop him. Casually, he zips up his jeans.

“Is that photocopies of your cock inside my vagina?”

“What?” He turns to look. “Oh. Would you look at that. I believe that it is.” His smug grin stretches from ear to ear. He squats down to pick one up. He holds it in both hands like a work of art and turns it from side to side. “I’m telling you, Lex, you have the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen. My cock isn’t bad either,” he chuckles. “Can I keep this one?”

“No!” I grab for it but he whips it away and holds it over his head where I can’t reach it.

“Fine. But don’t show it around.”

Connor folds it up and slides it in his front pocket, grinning at me.

I grin back. It gives me a secret thrill that he has a picture of our privates
fucking
. I’ve never taken a selfie of my privates, but this is the next best thing. No, better. Because Connor’s cock is inside me. Being a slut is a lot more delicious than I realized.

But I don’t have time to savor the thought. How many copies did we make? I look down at the control panel on the copier and see the numbers. Reality comes crashing back. “Five hundred! We switched on the auto copy function!”

“Well, fuck,” Connor chuckles, looking at the pile of papers. “If you bind them together you could make a flip book and watch it like a movie.”

“This isn’t funny! We have to clean this up!”

A shadow appears behind the frosted glass of the copier room door. I slam my hands against it. “You can’t come in here!”

“Who’s in there? Is that you, Warmoth?” It’s Vince Pitts.

Shitts!

“There’s been a major meltdown!” I yelp.

“What’s going on, Warmoth?”

“There’s toner everywhere! It’s a disaster area! I, uh, dropped the toner cartridge and it broke and it’s like a coal mine explosion in here! Unless you want to ruin your clothes and get black lung, DO! NOT! COME! IN!” I glare at Connor and point frantically at the pile of paper.

He starts scooping all the copies up in a rush.

“Should I tell Elizabeth to call the copy repair guy?”

“No! It’s too big a job for him! Call a chimney sweep!”

Connor smirks at me, holding a big wad of copies, and mouths the words, “
Chimney sweep
?”

I flip him off then holler at Vince, “You might need to call the fire department!” I wince, regretting I said it.

“The
fire
department? Is something burning in there, Warmoth?”

“No! Forget the fire department! I’ve got it covered! Just don’t come in!”

He rattles the doorknob. “Open up, Warmoth!”

“No, Vince! I’m serious!” I lean all my weight against the door and squeeze the knob as hard as I can.

Connor has all the paper in a jagged pile at his feet. He scrunches it together into a mound and crumples it up into a blooming wad of corners and curls.

The momentary distraction is enough that I relax my hand on the door knob. The knob turns and the other knob walks into the room. Vince’s eyes ping-pong between me and Connor. “What the hell is going on in here, Warmoth?”

Embarrassment explodes in my chest. Based on the heat of my skin, I imagine I am lobster red from head to toe. I got caught having sex at the office!! By my boss!! And there are 500 pieces of evidence as proof. Who knew paper could be such a problem? I thought the ability to endlessly duplicate files on computers was an issue. But this is worse. I can’t just press DELETE and make these copies go away. I need a huge paper shredder or a flamethrower to get rid of them. I have neither.

Connor wads the big stack of papers tighter against his chest. It’s huge and crumples loudly. A single sheet of paper slips free and seesaws to the floor, landing at Vince’s feet.

I gasp.

Vince bends down to pick it up. “What is this?”

I rip the paper from his hand so quick, he’s still holding a torn corner. “Nothing!”

“Copier malfunction,” Connor says, as if that explains everything.

“Uh huh,” Vince nods suspiciously, looking at the shard of paper in his hand. He turns his head this way and that, but he can’t make sense of the partial image.

I snap it from his fingers and wad it up with the rest of the copies in my hand. “All fixed now!” I twist around, looking for any other stray copies. That’s when I noticed the gargantuan
smear
on the copier glass. I bang the lid down on it. “Just give us a few minutes to tidy this up!” I grin insanely.

He holds up a sheet of paper. “I need to make a copy.”

“NO!” I shout in his face. Not with my bodily fluids on the copier glass he isn’t!

“I’m sorry, what?” He totally heard me.

“I need to put more toner in!”

His brows furrow. “I thought you said you spilled toner everywhere?”

“I did! I already cleaned it up!”

“Something smells fishy in here, Warmoth.”

I drill him with a hateful glare. He better not be talking about me.

Connor steps up to Vince.

Vince glances down at the wadded paper in Connor’s hands. It’s far larger than the neat ream it started as. It’s bigger than a basketball. You can see black and white images of our privates peeking out from the crinkled mess.

Vince gazes at the wad.

Please let them be too blurry to recognize.

“You guys aren’t wasting paper, are you?” Vince asks.

“It wasn’t a waste,” Connor smirks and winks at me.

I repress a smile.

Connor takes another step toward Vince, imposing his presence without doing anything overt.

Vince glances up at him then away. “I’ll come back later. Let me know when you have the machine up and running.”

“Will do,” I nod frantically.

Vince closes the door behind him.

“Holy shit,” I hiss. “That was close.”

“What do we do with these?” Connor asks, holding up the wad of copies. “Put them in the trash?”

“No! You have to take them out of here!” I bend over and grab his condom out of the trash. “And take this with you!” Why are used condoms so gross, even when they’re yours? I don’t know. Maybe it’s the same thing as how you don’t want your own spit back in your mouth once it’s left. And, sweaty latex
stinks
.

Connor takes the condom and stuffs it in the back pocket of his jeans. Why is that so gross? He doesn’t seem to care. He reaches for the doorknob.

“You can’t walk around with the copies out in the open! Put them under your shirt or something! I need to clean the copier glass. I’ll meet you in the conference room in a few minutes.”

“I’ll wait here.” His shirt is stretched over the jagged ball of paper.

I laugh.

“What?” he asks.

“You’re paper pregnant.”

He looks down at his belly. “So I am.”

“What am I going to do with you, Connor Hughes?”

He grins, “I have a few ideas.”

“Go!” I grin.

“Do you want me to come get you if my, uh, sawdust breaks?”

“What?”

“You know, when my sawdust breaks. When I’m ready to deliver my paper baby?” He pats his belly.

“No!” I laugh.

“Or is it pulp? What do they make paper out of?”

“I don’t know! Now get out of here!” I wave him out the door, still giggling.

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

CONNOR

Electra comes walking into the conference room a few minutes after cleaning herself up in the ladies’ room.

My feet are kicked up on the glass table. The huge ball of copies is centered on the table where I left it.

“Nice center piece,” she chuckles. “Maybe you should put it under the table so no one can see it.”

“I like it right where it is.”

She shakes her head and grins. “Can we finish your interview now?”

“Are you still wearing your torn panties like a garter belt?”

“No,” she frowns.

“So you’re not wearing any panties? Your pussy is completely exposed inside your skirt?

“Stop it, Connor.” She sits down across from me.

I lean my head under the table.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to look up your skirt so I can see your pussy. Duh.”

She clamps her knees together. “Stop it, Connor!”

“What if I don’t?”

She’s enjoying this. “Then you may as well throw me on the conference table and screw me right here so everybody can watch.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” I chuckle. My dick starts to harden in my jeans. “I can’t get enough of your pussy, Lex. It’s worse than heroin.”

“Be that as it may,” she smiles at me over her glasses, “we need to finish your interview. We can talk about table sex
after
. Are we clear?”

“Ooh,” I fake a shiver. “Are you telling me what to do, Miss Warmoth?”

“Yes. Now shut your mouth for ten seconds so I can ask you my next question.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

There’s a knock on the conference room door. “What?!” She barks.

I love how bitchy she gets without the slightest hesitation. A big smile melts into her face, so I twist around in my seat to see who it is. It’s Surfer Douche, the photographer who was all over Electra at Rom Com Con. He holds a canvas camera bag in one hand.

What the fuck is he doing here?

“Hold on a second,” Lex sighs, standing up and walking to the door.

Surfer Douche opens the door before she gets to it and leans inside. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure,” she says. “Let’s talk outside.”

They’re out the door before I can stop them.

Who the fuck gave him permission to open the door? Or talk to Lex? The
fuck
he think he is?

They walk into the main lobby. I can’t hear them through all the glass. He’s standing really fuckin close to her and smiling like an idiot. I need to rearrange that guy’s fuckin face.

Electra giggles at something he says and touches his bicep with her fingers.

What the fuck? We
just
had sex and she’s flirting with this fuckin guy? Fuck me! I shoot to my feet and bang the glass conference room door open and barge into the lobby.

“Totally,” Surfer Douche chuckles.

It takes everything I have not to wrap the strap of his fuckin camera bag around his neck and hang him with it. “I hate to bug you guys, but I’m in a hurry.”

Lex smirks at me, “Just a second, Connor. I’ll be right there.”

I look at my wrist like I’m wearing a watch, but I’m not. I feel stupid but follow through, still staring at my wrist like there’s a watch there. “I’ve gotta be outta here in fifteen minutes, so make it snappy.” Once again, I feel like a goon because of this stupid fuckin Surfer Douche.

“
Snappy
?” the Douche chuckles and mumbles to Electra. “Who
is
this Barney?”

Barney is surf lingo for straights who can’t surf, or anybody who doesn’t live on a surfboard. Does he think I can’t hear him? “Shut the fuck up, Spicoli,” I growl. I’ve seen
Fast Times at Ridgemont High
.

“Calm down, Connor,” Lex grumbles. “I’ll be in there in a second.”

Surfer Douche smiles like he owns Lex or some shit. “You can go.
Bra
.”

I can kick his ass. No question. But am I going to do it in front of Electra and the receptionist? And the guy walking by me in the hallway sipping his coffee and staring at me? Fuck. I’m not that big a tool. If Douche took a swing at me, it would be over in two seconds. But he’s just standing there with that fuckin douche smile on his douche face.

Fuck it.

I’ll have to jump him in a back alley later.

I let the door close and sit back down at the table. I stare at the big ball of copies. I seriously consider peeling one off and slapping it up against the glass so Surfer Douche can see my dick up inside Lex’s pussy. Then I imagine him not knowing what it is, or should I say
who
it is, and me having to explain. I’d have to point at myself then Lex and say, “Me. Her. Fuckin. Right down the hall in the copier room.”

How would that play with Lex’s office buddies?

Scrap that idea.

I need to think of something quick or I really am gonna go kick his ass.

“Geez, Connor,” Lex says, walking into the conference room. “Can’t you wait five seconds? You’re worse than a toddler.” She sits down across from me.

Surfer Douche walks past the conference room and into the offices. My eyes track him until he’s gone. Then I glare at her. “Is there something going on with you and that guy?”

She looks stunned. She blinks several times and folds her hands on her notepad. Her face tightens. “What do you care? You had sex with another woman the
same
day we did.”

“It’s not the same.” It’s not the same because I forgot all about that woman the second Electra walked back into my life like a gift from god.

“It’s not? Could’ve fooled me, Connor!”

“Hold on. Are you saying you had
sex
with Surfer Douche?”

“His name is
Austin
, Connor.”

“I don’t give a fuck
what
his name is. Did you have sex with him or not?!”

“That’s none of your business!!”

“Tell, me, Lex. Did you sleep with him?”