Cover Model (4 page)

I sigh to myself.

Everybody knows that adulthood means from time to time you have to bend over for your boss whether you want to or not. The image of sweaty Vince Pitts with his stringy comb-over flopping against his forehead while he bends me over his glass desk at the
Trending
offices makes me want to throw up all over my laundry. I swallow down my disgust. I don’t want to run this load of darks again.

“What’s it gonna be, Warmoth? Am I calling Audrey to handle what you can’t?”

Audrey Fisher is a senior contributor for
Trending Magazine
. She’s a kiss ass and a job hog who would love to take my paycheck.

But I hardly care about her.

I care about my reputation.

Never in my career have I balked at an assignment. I’m the go-to girl. I get stuff done. I’m up for
any
assignment, no matter how much I might dislike the subject. I’ve interviewed drug dealers, embezzlers, corporate criminals, and human rights abusers. I always get the story, no matter how much the subject turns my stomach. But this is different. This is personal.

“Well, Warmoth?”

I grit my teeth. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

“Good. Remember, your interview copy goes live to-
day
. Austin will meet you in the lobby at the hotel at noon to take pictures.”

“I thought we weren’t getting an exclusive on the photos.”

“We’re not. The agreement with Rom Com Con and Connor’s agent is that nobody gets any pictures until the live reveal. They’ve gone out of their way to keep this Connor guy’s face a secret. Why, I have no idea. But I want to go live with your article the
second
Austin has pics. Otherwise
TMZ
will break the story before we do. So drop whatever you’re doing and get your ass back to that hotel and finish that fucking interview! You hearing me, Warmoth?!”

“Yes!!” I scream into the phone.

The few people doing their laundry this early in the morning all stop what they’re doing and stare at me.

“Sorry,” I mutter to the room.
Not sorry.

“I don’t want to hear sorry, Warmoth! Get your ass in gear!’

“I was talking to the—”

Vince hangs up before I can finish my sentence.

While cursing Vince under my breath to the high heavens, I yank my wet laundry out of the dryer and stuff it in my basket. Then I stop one of the many washing machines in the laundromat with a violent twist, nearly snapping the knob off the control panel. I pull my unfinished load of soapy towels out and drop them sopping into my basket. I carry the dripping mess to my car. I don’t even bother to drive home and drop it off.

My clothes are going to have to sit in my trunk until this evening. I hope they don’t get all mildewy between now and then.

It is my sincerest wish that Vince Pitts dies a slow and painful death at the hands of an epileptic dentist who forgot to take his meds.

No offense to epileptics, of course.

Or dentists.

Unless they deserve it. Like Vince Pitts.

Damn him!

Chapter 3

CONNOR

“How did the interview go?” It’s my agent on the phone, Gloria Powers. She’s been repping me for five years. Her voice is all smiles.

I chuckle, kicking back on the unmade bed in my hotel room. “It didn’t happen.”

“What?” Now her voice could cut glass.

“She bailed,” I say casually.

“
Who
bailed?”

“The reporter from
Trending Magazine
. She left before the interview started.”

“Ugh. Why did she leave?”

“I may have pissed her off.”

“You didn’t try to get her into bed, did you?”

I chuckle. “Jealous?”

“Fuck you, Connor. Did you try to screw her or not?”

“You sound jealous to me.” I grin to myself.

“Damn it, Connor. Do you know how many favors I had to call in to set up this interview?”

“All of them,” I say sarcastically. “Look, I don’t fuckin know what happened, G. But I didn’t try to fuck her.” Not yet, anyway. If I can track Electra down, I just might. I can’t believe War Mouth dropped back into my life today.

“You sure? No flirting? No grab-assing?”

“No, Gloria. I told you. I didn’t do anything. She just flipped out.” I realize how stupid this sounds. “I think she had a screw loose. For all I know, she needed to take a huge shit and didn’t want to do it in my room and stink up the place.”

“That’s disgusting, Connor.”

“What do you want me to tell you? She left. No explanation.”

She groans. “As long as you didn’t try to sleep with her.”

“I swear, I didn’t.”

“Good. Because the last thing we need is
Trending
printing an article about you sexually harassing their reporter.”

“That might actually be a good story. You know what they say about bad press…”

“That might work for Caitlyn Jenner and the Kardashians, but you’re still a nobody, Connor. You’re unknown. You know what they say about first impressions.”

I run my hand through my hair. “I didn’t do anything, G.”

“If I hear otherwise when I talk to my contact at
Trending
, you better hope I never find you because I
will
cut your dick off and soak the stump in rubbing alcohol.”

I wince. “You wouldn’t want to do that to your favorite dick, would you?”

“Don’t test me, Connor. I have a business to run. You’re not my only client.” She sighs heavily. “I’ll make some calls. Stay where you are. I’ll see if I can rebuild the bridge you just burnt.”

I toss the phone on the mattress.

Fuck her and her bridges.

I don’t need this shit.

I don’t even want to be here for this ridiculous reveal. It was all Gloria’s fuckin idea. I would’ve been happy to remain anonymous. But Gloria is dead set on building my brand.

I guess her fifteen percent of my take home isn’t enough. So she has to make up for it by getting me more exposure which supposedly leads to bigger and better paying gigs and starring roles and all that shit. I don’t know what’s wrong with making just enough cash to cover rent and food and gas for my bike every month. What more do you need? I mean, besides pussy? And that shit’s free.

—
scream
—

I shudder.

Maybe
I
need to bail on this whole fuckin convention reveal bullshit. I can think of a thousand things I’d rather be doing.

Top on the list is fuckin Electra Warmoth, which isn’t gonna cost me a dime.

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

ELECTRA

“Just my luck,” Connor chuckles. He stands fully naked in the doorway of room 714.

“Put some clothes on or I’m leaving,” I snap. It’s an empty threat but he doesn’t know that. “I don’t need to be here.”

“You’re right. You being here is a privilege.”

“You wish,” I spit.

“Really? My agent has been hounding me to do a big interview like this for months. We already turned down
People
,
US
,
GQ
, and
Esquire
.”

“You’re lying.”

“Nope. Everybody wants me, War Mouth. But you already knew that.”

How does he make it
so
easy to despise him? He’s truly talented. “Okay, if that’s true, Connor
Lewd
, why did you pick
Trending Magazine
?
Trending
is still the up-and-comer. Those other magazines are well established.” Although I’m truly curious, mainly I don’t want to think about how
naked
he is right now. And the fact that we’re all alone.

“Because I
am
the trend,” Connor says, cocky as ever.

Cock.

I snort, “You’re still full of yourself after all these years, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. Admit it, War Mouth. You like what you see.”

“I do not.” It’s not like I haven’t seen Connor nearly naked before. He was always one of those guys who took his shirt off at the drop of a hat so he could parade his abs around for the girls. This is no different, except he’s taller and more muscular and I can see his… I close my eyes with obvious irritation. I’m not going to stare. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

“What?”

I glare at him. “Do you know what it feels like to be kicked in the balls by a woman wearing pointed pumps?”

“Nope.”

I smirk, “If you don’t put some clothes on so we can start this interview, you’re about to find out.”

“You’re bluffing,” he says, amused. He really doesn’t care that he’s standing naked in the hotel hallway.

I sigh with irritation. “Get a towel from the bathroom or something. Let’s get this interview over with. I have a deadline and I’m not about to miss it because you’re playing games.” I shoulder past him into the room and stride toward the round table by the picture window. The hotel room is standard but classy, with a king size bed and stylish dark wood furniture.

The room door closes solidly behind me.

One might say ominously.

A large, muscled, naked model of a man stands somewhere behind me.

Am I going to regret this?

No. I can take care of myself. I’ve been in far more dangerous situations than this. I know how to deal with Connor Hughes. He’s a man-child. An authoritative tone ought to be enough to keep him in line.

Connor’s voice tickles my ears, “Do you have any idea how incredible your ass looks in that skirt?”

If Connor was a co-worker, I’d threaten him with a sexual harassment lawsuit. But he’s not. There’s nothing I can do but ignore it. It’s not like he means it.

“I haven’t seen an ass that good since…” He sounds lost in thought. “Since the last time I saw you, War Mouth.” He chuckles to himself.

Maybe
he means it? No, he’s just trying to irritate me. We both know it’s not true.

“Fuck, woman. Your hips won’t fuckin quit.” The tone in his voice is blatantly sleazy. I can feel his eyes crawling all over my ass. “What I wouldn’t do to bend you over that table and fuck you from behind while we both enjoy the view.”

I swallow hard.

I haven’t had a man talk to me this way since…

Ever.

But that’s not why I’m here. And speaking of views, the view out the window is very nice. I can see the Pacific Ocean. That’s the view he was referring to, right? Who am I kidding. This is Connor Hughes. Pursing my lips for my own benefit, I shake my head. “Can it, Connor. Either we’re doing this interview or—”

“I’m doing you. Take your pick.”

“That’s not what I said. And stop talking like a rapist. Not every woman on this planet wants to have sex with you, you know.”

“You do. But you won’t admit it.”

“Ha! I wouldn’t have sex with you if you were the last man on earth.”

“Speaking of sex—”

“No, Connor!”

“—when was the last time you had any?”

I swallow hard again. It’s been years. But I won’t admit that to him or anybody else. Nor will I admit that I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have him inside me, bent over this chair, squirming as he takes me from behind and an orgasm rips through me…

“And I don’t mean throw-away sex, War Mouth. I mean the kind of sex that is so good you call all your girlfriends and brag about it for months.”

Not that I have many girlfriends to call. My career leaves me little time for friends. I make a lot of acquaintances on the job, but I wouldn’t call those people friends.

He continues, “The kind of sex where you’re soaking fuckin wet and your pussy lips are swollen because it goes on all night long, the kind where you come so hard you see stars, the kind where you’re afraid to come one more time because you think it might kill you but you do it anyway. The kind of sex where your pussy aches the next morning but all you can think about is doing it again. And again. And
again
. And—”

“Stop! I get it!”

Am I panting?

I think I was panting.

One thing’s for sure, my panties are—

“I bet you’re wet right now just thinking about it.”

Damn him.

He’s right.

My back still to him, I steady myself by grabbing the top of the chair in front of me. My eyes are closed and my head is spinning and I’m about to fall over.

Jesus.

“What you need right now is for me to throw you on that table, hike up that tight skirt of yours, tear your panties off, and devour your pussy until you come all over my face.
Then
I’ll fuck you until you can’t see straight.”

Not what I was just thinking, but close enough. My knees are literally wobbling.

He chuckles throatily. “I’m right. You are
dyin
for a good fuck.” It’s a statement of fact.

And he is right. If he was somebody else.

Power Pole. High Tension. Lightning Dolt. Benjamin Skanklin. High Vulvage. Brown Out.
Those names represent the history of my misery. Why in the world would I want to have sex with an asshole like Connor Hughes? I won’t let him make a mockery of me. I don’t care how sexy he
thinks
he is. I grit my teeth. “Connor, I’m here to do an interview.” I spin around. “I really
wuh
—” The feral power of Connor’s nakedness stops me short. I lock eyes with him because it’s the only safe place for me to rest my gaze.

“Want me to do you,” he finishes my sentence. Again.

“That’s not what I was going to say!”

“But it’s what you
want
to say.” The grin on his face is rakish and sexy as hell.

I hate it.

“Wow, Warmoth. You are
red
. Did you just come?”

“No!” That’s when I realize I’m boiling. I want to fan my face or take a cold shower, but I’m not going to let it show. I break eye contact with him and suddenly find myself staring at his cock.

It’s fully erect.

Oh my god.

It’s large and in charge.

I’m sopping wet and horny as hell myself. My lady parts are literally spasming in anticipation of a toe-curling orgasm. And surprise, there’s a gorgeous able-bodied man standing right in front of me with his gorgeous able-bodied cock pointing straight at me.

But he is my arch nemesis Connor Huge.

I mean, Connor
Hughes
.

Oh, shit.