Cover Model (7 page)

“What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever done as a model?”

He nods, “Good question. Hmmm. Oh yeah. I was a human sushi platter at a gay banquet.”

“What?!” I laugh. “Is that even true?”

“Is that another question?”

“No. But you know I’m going to print that,” I warn with a giggle.

“Go ahead.” He smiles confidently.

“I think you’re lying.”

“Print it. I don’t care.”

“So, wait. Were people like… eating sushi off of you? Were you naked?”

“That’s two questions.”

“Never mind.”

“Fine. My turn. Are you single?”

“Yes.” I’m about to ask him why he cares, but that would be another question. We both know he just wants sex anyway. That’s all Connor has ever wanted from any woman. “My turn. Why did you become a model?”

“I told you. My agent discovered me at a club.”

“No, that’s the
how
. I want to know the
why
.”

He grits his teeth, his jaw muscles dancing.

He’s hiding something. I lean forward in my seat. I can smell pay-dirt. This should be good.

“I needed the money,” he grunts.

I snort, “That’s no answer, Connor. Everybody needs to earn money. Why modeling?”

“It was easy.”

“You have to give me more than that, Connor.”

“Why? Lots of people pick jobs that are easy. Look at me. Being a model is the obvious career path.” His smarmy smirk returns as he holds up his tattooed muscled arms.

They are
very
muscley.

I lean back in my chair. He’s obviously covering something up. I need to come at it from a different angle later on. There’s a story here. If I can find it, I might have something that will impress Vince.

“My turn,” he says. “Why did you break up with your last boyfriend?”

My breath stops short. This is one question I don’t want to answer. “How do you know I had a boyfriend to break up with? Maybe I’ve never had one.”

“I’m assuming someone as beautiful as you has had at least
one
boyfriend in the last seven years. Either way, I only want to know about the last one.”

My hands start to shake so I fold them in my lap. “Um…”

“I’m waiting.”

“Let’s just say there’s not much to say.”

He snorts, “That’s not an answer.”

“You didn’t give me one.
Because modeling is easy
?” I’m mimicking his earlier words. “That’s not an answer either.”

He waves his hand in the air impatiently. “So make something up for your article, Warmoth. I’m sure you’ll come up with something better than the truth.”

What does that mean? His expression says he’s not going to say a thing. Hmm. I
could
make something up about why he got into modeling, something plausible and entertaining that won’t cause him to launch a libel lawsuit, but fabricating facts is unthinkable for a serious journalist like myself. I’ve never done it and I never will.

“Back to my question about your breakup,” he prods. “Why did things end?”

“Do you really want to know this?”

“Yes.”

I take a deep breath, considering. No, there’s no way I’m going into it. Even after four years, the topic of Dylan Montgomery is an open wound for me. And since he’s the only real boyfriend I’ve ever had, I don’t have anyone else I can talk about. And I’m not going to lie. “Do we have to do this, Connor?”

“You want your interview, don’t you?”

“Why do you always have to be so difficult?”

His brows knit. “Modeling is my job, Warmoth. What you print in your story will have an impact on my brand. If I say the wrong thing, or you take my words out of context, it could come back to bite me in the ass. So you’ll excuse me if I’m careful with what I say to you.”

“But I thought you said earlier I could make up anything I wanted about why you got into modeling?”

“Forget I said that. Answer my question about your last boyfriend or we can be done here. Or… you can take a dare.”

“Fine. Dare.”

He slowly smiles. “You sure?”

Exasperated, I sigh, “Yes, Connor. Dare.”

“Kiss me.”

“No! I said no physical intimacy!”

“Then answer the question.”

I huff. “No, Connor.”

“Then kiss me. How bad can it be?”

“The words
foul
and
terrible
come to mind.”

He chuckles, “What about me seems foul and terrible?”

“Besides the obvious?” I giggle. “Let’s see…Have you brushed your teeth today? I don’t remember you scouring out your mouth or gargling with bleach since that girl left your room this morning. What was her name again?”

He raises an eyebrow.

“You don’t know her name, do you?!” I’m appalled.

“Asia. Her name’s Asia.”

“That’s not her name! You made that up! You’re such a player, Connor!”

“Would it make you feel any better if I told you I never kissed her?”

“No! You
fucked
her, Connor! I’m sure you and her swapped spit and every other possible bodily fluid.”

“I’m like a hooker. No kissing. Only fucking. And I used a condom. No spit or bodily fluids were exchanged at any time.”

“Bullshit,” I chuckle. “You expect me to believe that?”

He shrugs. “All I know is you called dare and now you have to kiss me. Those are the rules. And I brushed my teeth before we left my room.
And
I have mints, in case you have bad breath.”

“Me?” I huff.

He pulls a pack of mints from his pocket and tosses it on the table top. It slides toward me across the polished wood, the mints inside the pack rattling a challenge.

I stare at the pack.

Why am I even considering this? I don’t have to play along. Then again, I need this interview. Connor is too clever to just give up information for free. I shift in my seat. I wish my hair wasn’t in a bun right now. I’d like to hide behind it because Connor is drilling me with those stupid blue eyes of his. Why does he have to be so damn handsome? And why do his lips have to be so full and luscious?

Damn him!

“Fine,” I groan. I get up and trudge to his end of the table.

He sits up, an expectant look on his face. His blue eyes flash. Up this close, they glow. Or maybe that’s just the sky light pouring in through the wall of windows reflecting off his azure irises.

I lean forward, grimacing, and… kiss his forehead.

I skip back to my seat, giggling. I stop on the way and grab a water bottle and the mints.

“Hey! What the fuck kind of kiss was that?”

“You never specified!” I drop into my seat, unscrewing the water bottle. I drink a swig and swish it around like I’m rinsing. Then I pop a mint in my mouth and make a sour face. “Nasty,” I hiss.

“Your lips weren’t even on my forehead long enough to taste anything,” he chuckles.

“Says you. Next question.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fuckin Power Pole.”

“Hey!” I snap. “Don’t call me that.”

‘You’re right. You do have nice breasts.”

“Next question! Ahem. Stay on point, Connor.”

“I’m on point right now.” He stands up and walks toward me.

The first place I look is his crotch, which isn’t pitching a pointy tent like I’d expected. “What are you doing?”

“I’m coming to get my kiss.”

“No you’re not!”

He swaggers toward me. “Yes I am.”

“Sit down, Connor! I’m warning you!” I shake my open water bottle like I’m going to splash water in his face. “You already got your kiss.”

“No I didn’t.” He takes my water bottle and sets it on the table. Then he leans toward me, resting his big hands on the armrests of my chair.

We are nose to nose.

I can smell his skin. It’s magnificent. I mean awful. I wince. “Get away, you smell.”

He smirks. “That’s pheromones.”

“Smells like farts to me,” I giggle.

“You wish.”

He’s right. He smells like a cowboy or something. He leans forward so far that I have to lean all the way back in my chair until my bun hits the back of it. I’m trapped. No place to go. “Go away, Connor.”

“Not till I get a real kiss.”

“Stop being such a rapist.”

“I’m not raping.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” His lips are a quarter inch from mine. I stare at them. They need to be nibbled or licked, but not by me.

“I can wait all day. War Mouth. You know you want it.”

“No I don’t.”

He smiles. Masculine energy pours off of him.

It’s intoxicating. I haven’t had a man this close to me in forever. In the past two years, I’ve been on a date or three, and there has been some limited kissing, but nothing worth mentioning. At the moment, I could write a book about what Connor’s proximity is doing to me. My bra feels two sizes too small and my nipples are hard. My panties are too tight and straining deliciously against my clit. A flush rushes up my neck and heat flows down my chest beneath my blouse, pooling between my legs. And he hasn’t even kissed me.

I look into his eyes. My voice is choked when I say, “Okay, maybe just a quick peck.”

Connor reaches up and removes my glasses.

“What are you doing?” I demand.

“I don’t want them getting broken.” He sets them on the table.

“It’s just a quick peck—”

His mouth crashes into mine.

Our tongues fight like cobras, twisting together in a swollen embrace. Pleasure sprays up from my core like a hot fountain of desire.

I grab Connor’s T-shirt in my fists and pull him toward me. The office chair suddenly rolls back, slamming into the wall. Our lips never separate.

I am kissing Connor Hughes and it is the hottest thing ever.

Why did I wait so long?

Without warning, his huge hands scoop underneath my ass and he lifts me into the air. He stands up and I try to wrap my legs around his waist, but I can’t. My fitted skirt is too restrictive. I end up bending at the waist and wrapping my knees around his ribs as he folds me against him, positioning me so that my wetness presses against his crotch. His hardness strains against me through his jeans. It’s clumsy and it leaves me feeling wide open. It’s like we’re dry fucking with my knees around my ears but we’re standing up and fully clothed.

I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

He breaks the kiss.

I don’t want him to. My mouth is empty without his tongue in it. I want his lips back!

He hisses, “Fuck, Lex. I need to be inside you right fuckin now…”

If he had called me War Mouth or Power Pole or anything else, it would’ve ruined the moment. But this Lex thing keeps catching me off guard. “I—”

“Give me the word and I’ll rip your clothes off and fuck you on this table. I want to feel your wet pussy all over my cock. Damn it, Lex, I need to fuck you…”

“I—”

Click!

Romeo leans his head through the door of the meeting room. “I may be gayer than a Pride Parade, but even I’m a little bit turned on right now…”

“Oh, shit!” I scream. If Connor didn’t have such a good grip on my ass, I would’ve landed flat on the floor and broken my tail bone. Ouch!

Connor chuckles, still holding me up in the air.

Romeo grins at both of us.

Wow, this is awkward. Socially and physically. I try to lower my legs but I’m trapped by my skirt. “Put me down!” I bark.

“I’ll give you two a minute,” Romeo giggles while withdrawing his head from the room and closing the door.

“I’m gonna need more than a minute,” Connor growls into my ear. “It’s gonna take at least an hour to fuck you right…”

The sound of his deep voice melts my brain and any remaining good sense I have dribbles out my ears.

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

CONNOR

I breathe into Electra’s ear, skimming the curve of it with my tongue.

“Ohhhhhh,” she shivers, squeezing her quivering thighs around my ribs. She drops her weight down so her pussy pushes against my dick through my jeans.

I grind up against it. “I need to fuck you, Lex. I know you’re fuckin wet right now. I can smell it. I know you want this as bad as I do.”

For a moment, she’s seriously considering it. She’s breathing hard, her face buried in my shoulder.

“Say the word, Lex, and I’ll make you come harder than you’ve ever fuckin come…”

She whimpers, “Romeo is right outside. Don’t you have a reveal for your fans? Your first public appearance?”

She isn’t letting go.

“Fuck all that noise,” I growl. “All I can think about right now is you. Until I come inside you, I can’t think about anything else.”

I can feel her heart pounding in her chest.

Then her arms and legs go slack. “We need to stop, Connor. Please put me down.”

I set her ass gently on the table top.

Her arms still hang loose around my neck. She hangs her head. “We shouldn’t have done that.”

Why am I not surprised she said that? “Yeah. This was a bad idea.” My monster hard on says otherwise.

Her head tilts up and her eyes search mine.

There’s a second where I think maybe she’s hurt. But that can’t be right. Warmoth has skin thicker than a mule.

“This was
your
idea, Connor,” she scowls.

Same old Warmoth. Always fuckin angry at me. As always, it drives me up the fuckin wall. “What the fuck, Warmoth? You were all over
me
.”

“After you forced me!”

“I didn’t force anything.”

“Bullshit, Connor! The kiss was
your
idea. Truth or Dare was
your
idea. Trading questions was
your
idea. How was any of this
my
idea? If you’d’ve done this interview like I’d asked, like you and your people
wanted
, none of this would’ve happened!”

“Was it
that
bad, Warmoth?”

“What?”

“The fuckin kiss!”

“Yes! No! I don’t know!” She glares at me, her eyes on fire.

“Fuck, Warmoth! Maybe if you’d relax and let that fuckin uptight hair bun of yours down for five seconds, you might actually enjoy yourself for once! Do you even know how to have fun? Or is everything for you
WORK FUCKIN WORK
?!”

“NO!!”

I shake my head. “There’s a reason I started calling you High Tension in high school, and this is it.”