Newly Exposed

Newly Exposed

Book One in the Exposed Series

Meghan Quinn

Published by Hot-Lanta Publishing

Copyright 2015

Cover by Meghan Quinn

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at
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All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.
 

www.authormeghanquinn.com

Chapter One

Adam

“Name, age, and where you’re from.”

I shifted in place and tried to not let the panel of five women intimidate me as they looked me up and down.
 

“Hi,” I waved like a nerd, temporarily lifting my hand from my pocket, but returning it rather quickly after the sneers I received. “I’m Adam James. I’m twenty years old and I’m from Nebraska, but I live here now…”

“That’s great,” I was interrupted. “Take your shirt off,” the lady questioning me demanded, as she waved her pen, indicating for me to remove my clothing.

Feeling uncomfortable with the situation I was in and the abruptness of the lady interviewing me, I took my shirt off and held it in my hand, as I tried to stand as tall as possible while five sets of judgmental eyes took in my physique.
 

“How often do you work out?”

“Well, I try to get in at least four to five times a…”

“Are you opposed to nudity?”

“N-nudity?” I gulped. “I thought this was a casting for a book cover.”

“Are you opposed to nudity?” the lady repeated.

“Well, I mean, I’ve never done any public nudity…”

“How do you feel about simulated sex?”

“Excuse me?” I asked, wanting to clear my ears out.
 

The lady asking the questions was no doubt in her fifties and loving the fact that I was halfway naked in front of her. I could tell by the way she licked her lips and stared at my crotch. Three of the other ladies were younger and more into taking notes on what I said. They must have been the minions. On the far right was a woman who kept silent the whole time, not really writing anything down and not asking any questions either, just observing. She made me the most nervous, because I had no clue what to expect from her.
 

She wore her large black sunglasses over her striking face and red lipstick caressed her lips, while the rest of her body was encased in black skinny jeans, heels, and a T-shirt. Her golden blonde hair sat at the top of her head, giving her a don’t-fuck-with-me look. She was hot, but intimidating as hell with her long legs crossed one right over the other and her red lips pursed with judgment.
 

“How do you feel about simulated sex?” the older lady, who reminded me of Meryl Streep, repeated.
 

“Um, well I like sex, but I’m not really into porn. Well, I mean, I like porn, not that I watch it much, well at all. I mean, I watch porn, I’m a man, but I don’t watch it regularly…just when I’m bored, which is practically never.” I ran my hand over my face as I wished that they had actually interrupted me this time, but instead, they all sat there staring at me with smirks on their faces, except for the blonde, who remained stone faced. “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t really think I can do porn things. I don’t like the idea of not knowing where people’s…um, vaginas have been.”

One of the minions snickered and bowed her head. Real mature.
 

“It’s simulated, so there is no actual penetration and we cover up all your…bits,” the questioner said with a smirk, as she stared at my crotch once again.
 

“Oh, well then I guess I could be down for that,” I responded, as I felt my face go red. Did I just say I would be interested in performing simulated sex for a photo shoot?

“But that’s a no on the nudity?”

“Well, uh, what kind of nudity?”

“If you don’t think your penis is big enough, we do have prosthetics.”

A prosthetic penis? Was that really a thing? Holy shit!

“I don’t need a prosthetic,” I retorted quickly. “I’m pretty comfortable with…”

“How long?” she interrupted me again.
 

“I’m sorry, how long what?” I asked, trying to even out the tone of my voice which wanted to keep squeaking.
 

She waved her hand, as if telling me to continue, even though I had no clue what she was talking about. I searched my brain for an answer, but she huffed, pulled her glasses off of her face, and pinched the bridge of her nose. “How long is your penis?”

Was she for real? When did how long is your penis and how many times do you work out become casual questions in a job interview?

“I-I’m not sure,” I answered honestly. “I never measured him before.”

A smile spread across her face. “Ahh, you call your penis a him.”

“Well, he’s not a girl, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Does he have a name?”

The minions all looked up and waited on the edge of their seats for my answer. Did I want this job that bad that I should continue to answer these questions?
 

Yeah, I needed money…badly, so I swallowed my pride and mumbled out his name so it was barely audible to my own ears.
 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that, what’s his name?”

My hands ran down my face and I said, “Just-In Beaver.”

The room rang silent.

I looked up and saw the moment when it all clicked in their heads. In unison, they all busted up laughing and started typing away on their phones, most likely spreading the news about the idiotic Nebraska kid who named his junk after a horny little pop-star. Fuck me.
 

Testing the waters, I looked over at blondie, and I noticed that my little nickname garnered a smile from her. Interesting.
 

“Well, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard that. Write that down, girls,” the elder lady said to her minions. “What publications have you been in?”

“Publications? Like magazines?”

She looked up at me over the glasses that she was now sporting again and said, “Yes, magazines, ads, online features, book covers…”

Shit.
 

“None yet, but I assure you…”

She held up her hand and took another look at my headshot, well, body shot. I spent every last cent I had left on that picture and was just praying that Teeg Model Management liked me. I had no other options left.
 

“Tattoos or piercings?”

“None,” I admitted.
 

“None?” she asked, while looking at me skeptically.

“No, I’ve never thought of something that I wanted to ink on my body for eternity. I’m not opposed to tattoos, I’m just trying to figure out what kind I would want, if any at all.”

She nodded her head and then looked down at her papers again. “You didn’t answer your penis size, at an erect state.”

“Is that a real question?” I asked, trying not to sound insulting.
 

“Mr. James, do I look like a woman who has time to joke around?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Then answer the question.”

I cleared my throat and shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t really know, but if I had to guess, maybe like this size,” I said, while showing them a length with my hands. The minions eyes lit up and the older lady nodded in approval.
 

She then turned to the rest of the panel and started talking as if I wasn’t in the room.
 

“Amazing body, nice abs, and that V cut is spectacular. If he’s telling the truth about his penis size, then that could be promising. He needs a tan, haircut, and maybe some piercings, maybe some small gauged earrings.” The girls nodded their heads, agreeing with every word and giving me hope.

Blondie sat up and said, “He has the face of a baby; it doesn’t match his body. People won’t buy it.”

Blondie just became blonde bitch in my book.
 

The older lady looked over at me and said, “Are you wearing contacts or false eyelashes?”

“False eyelashes?” I cringed. “No, I don’t even know where you would find those, and I don’t wear contacts.”
 

“It’s a shame that those eyes are attached to a man. What I wouldn’t kill and trample over to have a set of eyelashes and bright turquoise eyes like those. Am I right, ladies?” They all nodded and gave me the stink eye at the same time, blonde bitch was back to her neutral self.
 

“I think I would have to see him in underwear.”

Blonde bitch leaned forward and said, “You can’t be serious, Meryl.”
 

Holy crap, her name really was Meryl…that was surprising.
 

Meryl looked over at blonde bitch and said, “He has potential.” My ears perked up at Meryl’s confidence in me.
 

“I don’t need potential. I need someone who knows what the hell they’re doing, who can walk on set, pose, strut, fuck, and relax on cue. I don’t want to be training anyone.”

“Zia, I understand, but remember what happened last time with a cocky model?”

Zia? I could see that. The name fit the bitch.
 

Zia nodded her head and then sat back in her chair as she eyed me through her stupid sunglasses. Get a clue, we’re inside lady.
 

“He would need to have a tattoo artist consultation and the gauged earrings would be a must. I don’t know,” she shook her head. “Let’s see him in some underwear and baby oil. Have the Duo fix his hair too; that mop on his head is atrocious. He needs something cleaner, maybe a fauxhawk. And you’re going to have to ditch the dog tags.”

“That’s non-negotiable,” I said, without even thinking. “Dog tags don’t come off.”

Zia sat up and scooted to the edge of her seat. She lifted her sunglasses off her face, showing off a pair of brilliantly bright green eyes. “Are you in the army?”

“No.”

“Then you don’t need them,” she said, putting her sunglasses back on and crossing her arms.
 

My blood started to boil from her arrogant attitude. I had a correct first impression of her; she really was a bitch.
 

“We can discuss that later if we decide to take him on,” Meryl said, interrupting the showdown I was having with Zia.

“He would need a different name,” Zia cut in, while looking down at her nails.
 

“What’s wrong with Adam?” I asked, showing more emotion than needed.
 

“It’s too plain. If you had an agent, like every other proper model in this industry, they would have taken care of your hair, image, and name…that way we wouldn’t have to bother, but I guess Meryl is into charity cases now.”

I was seconds away from telling Zia to fuck off when Meryl got out of her chair and walked up to me. She was a tall woman, so my six-foot-two stature didn’t tower over her. She patted my cheek and said, “Such a baby face. Go through that door over there,” she pointed behind me and continued, “And have the Duo take care of you. They’ll know what to do.”

“Duo?”

“Just go,” Zia said, aggravated.
 

Keeping every ounce of professionalism on display, I gritted my teeth and said, “Yes, ma’am.”

As I was walking away, I heard the minions chuckle to themselves and take pictures with their phones, most likely of my backside.
 

I was desperate for money, but what the hell did I just get myself into?

Chapter Two

Solo

“Mmm, mm, mm, there’s some class-A man meat out there today. Did you see the guy with the beanie hanging off his head? Holy crap, I think I was impregnated just from him looking at me with those steel grey eyes. Did you catch his name?” Nolly said, as she leaned over her desk and tried to catch a glimpse of the models that were coming in for casting.