by Amy Brent
“Thanks. I’ve still got a few more things I want to do, but the big stuff is all done.”
“So if we aren’t going to talk about why you really left, then what are we going to talk about?” she asked.
“Why don’t we start with how your modeling career took off?” I asked.
“Part of it was luck, and part of it was me taking any job that would come my way. I was fortunate enough to walk into the right office at the right time, and the designer for the show we’re doing right now was talking with the man I was bringing my measly portfolio to.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. Up until that point, I’d done a couple of local magazine spreads and started up an Instagram feed to share my own pictures I took of myself. I did a local commercial and tried some shop-window modeling.”
“You did live modeling. Like, standing on your feet for seven, eight hours,” I said.
“I did,” she said with a grin. “And I was proud of that. I used the pictures others took of me as a way to promote my own Instagram, and I garnered a decent following. I did some hand modeling and some bust modeling. For nail artists and makeup artists that linked back to my profile. Things like that.”
“You really flexed those networking chops.”
“I’d like to say it got me this gig, but it didn’t. I walked in at the right time and the designer saw me and wanted to see my portfolio. It went from there to putting on a couple of things to see how I looked in them, and now I’m here. In the show you’re choreographing.”
“Still got eyes for New York?” I asked.
“It’s funny how now you talk as if you’ve always known that’s been my dream. Yes, I still have eyes for New York. I’m hoping to use the forward momentum of this show—especially since I’m the only plus-sized model in it—to score something that takes me there.”
“Let me know if you need any help. I’ve got connections there that would love you.”
“As much as I’d like to believe you, the last time I convinced myself you were helping me, I found out you weren’t really paying attention at all.”
Her words were like a slap across my face. I admit, I wasn’t the most attentive person when we had been together. But that didn’t mean I didn’t care about her. Nor did it mean I wasn’t willing to care now. What I needed was her to drop the angry wall she had up between us so I could show her that a year and a half changes people. It changed her and it changed me.
She needed to let me show her that.
“Jessi, I—”
“Hold your apology. I don’t need or want it,” she said. “Let’s just—keep moving.”
The two of us ate dinner while the sun set in front of our eyes. The way the changing colors played upon her skin called to me as I gathered up our dirty plates. I walked them into the kitchen as she polished off her wine, and I decided to take a chance.
I walked back out onto the porch and wrapped my arms around her waist.
She leaned into me and I dipped my lips to her neck. I felt her hand relinquish her wine glass as it clattered onto the table outside. The sun gave way to the mouth of the ocean, just like Jessi gave way to me. She tilted her head off to the side and allowed me access to the body I’d wanted to touch all night.
“You’re beautiful,” I said. “Stunning in this dress.”
I slid my arms down her sides until I was gripping her ass. She turned around and pressed deeply against me, her lips hovering above mine. I bent down and gripped tightly onto her body, hoisting her into the air as her lips came crashing down onto mine.
I couldn’t help myself.
And it seemed she couldn’t either.
I walked her into the room and slid the backdoor closed. But I didn’t have enough patience to get her up the stairs. I wanted her now. I wanted to taste her. I wanted her to sit back like the queen she was while I feasted between her legs. I sat her on the edge of the couch and leaned her back, her legs spread for me. I rolled the fabric of her dress up her legs, watching her soft thighs come into view. Her panties were soaked and the darkened fabric was calling to me.
So I hooked my fingers into the sides and slid them down her legs.
She was panting with want as I kissed up the inside of her leg. I nipped at her thigh, leaving glorious little love bites for her to find in the morning. I spread her pussy lips with my thumbs, taking in the glistening trove of arousal that was there for me to lap up.
Then, I pressed my tongue to the tip of her clit.
Her hands flew to my hair as I kept my movements light. I flicked her clit and lapped at her arousal. She rolled into me, ebbing the way the ocean did beyond the rocks of the California coast. I pressed my hands against her knees, spreading her as far as I could get.
I rendered her motionless as I dove my tongue into her depths.
“Chris. Chris. Shit. Yes. Harder. To the left. Farther. Yes. Right there. Right there. Right there!”
One of the things I loved was how vocal Jessi was in bed. So eager to guide me to what she needed. She was as submissive as they came, willing to do anything to receive what she so desperately wanted. I released her thighs and she clamped them down around my face, pressing into my cheeks as I sucked on her clit. Her hands twisted up in the tendrils of my hair as her toes curled into my back.
I could feel her shaking. Feel her throbbing. Hear the broken moans coming from her lips. I licked at her slit, sending jolts of pleasure through her body as her back crashed to the couch.
But I wasn’t done with her yet.
I wanted her one more way before I’d let her go from my grasp.
Chapter 7
Jessi
“I want you on top of me. Now.
His voice was hot in my ear as his hands grabbed my hips. I straddled his legs as he pulled me into his lap, his cock positioned at my entrance. The mind blowing orgasm he had just dealt with his tongue had my head spinning. So much so that I had to rest my forehead against his. I could smell myself on his skin. That alluring mixture of his saltiness and mine. It was a scent I’d tried to conjure in my dreams for months. This heated, heady sensation he could always give me was something I’d tried to replicate to show myself I didn’t need him.
But there was nothing like his body against mine.
He guided my hips down to his, sinking his dick into my pussy. I captured his lips, licking my essence off his skin. Our tongues battled for dominance as he swirled my hips around, guiding my every movement, getting what he wanted.
What he needed.
What he thought was his.
I planted my knees firmly into the couch as I bounced on his cock. His hands cupped my ass, rolling me deeper into him. My clit was poking out from beyond its hood, seeking friction against his tightly-wound curls. My hands ran through his hair, our lips colliding and teeth clattering as the windows behind the couch began to steam with our lust.
“Fuck, Jessi. You’re just like I remembered.”
I’d missed his cock inside of me. I’d missed the way he could fill me up. He sank deeper than anything I’d ever bought and tried on myself. He brushed against spots that shook my legs and stuttered my words. The pleasure he brought choked the life out of my body as I fell onto him, my arms holding me close as he pounded up into my pussy.
“That’s it. Let me have you. Just like I want. Such a sweet girl. Oh—fuck.”
I moaned into the crook of his neck, pressing kisses along his protruding veins. His hands dug into my ass, moving my body at lightning speed. My toes were curling and my teeth were biting into his neck. He was growling at me, the animal inside bursting forth as the lines between pain and pleasure began to blur.
I could feel his fingernails marking me as his hips began to stutter.
“Chris. Yes. So close. So good. Holy—fuck!”
My entire body contracted, crumbling into him as his arms cloaked my back. He held me close like he used to. Like when my body would collapse on top of his and he would cushion my fall.
I felt his cock throbbing against my walls, painting my body with his cum. My walls sucked him deeper, trapping him in the tightness of my pussy as my lips peppered his skin. I kissed up his cheek and encompassed his lips, moaning my delight into his warmth.
And still, he held me tightly.
“Stay with me tonight, Jessi. Let’s wake up to the sun together.”
“I can’t,” I said breathlessly, as our foreheads connected once again.
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t be seen riding into work with you, for one thing.”
“You have your car here. We’ll drive separately,” he said.
“I can’t stay.”
“I’m not asking for forever, Jes. I’m only asking for a night.”
There was something about that phrase that surged a want within my body to slap him.
Peeling myself from his lap, I felt him drip down my leg. I stumbled over to the kitchen, my legs wobbling as I grabbed a paper towel to clean myself up with. I could hear him buckling his pants as his eyes looked over at me, and I tried to avoid his stare.
I didn’t want to admit how angry that statement had made me.
“Here,” Chris said. “You’ll need these.”
He tossed my panties up onto the counter before he sighed and turned his back. If he kept asking me to stay with him, I was going to run out of excuses as to why I had to get home. It would get harder to hide Caleb and I’d start toeing a line I wasn’t ready to divulge yet. I needed a way to diffuse the tension so he wouldn’t shove me away.
My plan was nowhere near fully-fledged yet.
“Does Justin know you’re back in town?” I asked.
“Of course he does. He’s my best friend. He’s the first person I told when I got here.”
I bit down on the inside of my cheek as I slipped my panties back on. Every fucking word that came out of his face made me angry. The first one he told? He didn’t think for a second that he needed to call me? The only way I knew he was back in town was because he popped up as the choreographer on my job. Had that not happened, would he have ever tried to find me? Would he have tried to reach out, even if we hadn’t been working together?
Or was I simply a product of convenience? Something to keep discarded unless he couldn’t avoid me?
It only reassured me that what I was doing was the right thing. Not only had he reached out to my brother the moment he got into town, but no one had mentioned anything to me. Not that my brother had a reason to. But still.
Fuck, it was all too damn much.
“Look, Jes. I didn’t mean that the way—”
“Save it. It’s only going to start another fight and after all that I don’t have the energy for it,” I said.
His eyes connected with mine and I could have sworn he was pleading with me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.
Then grabbing my purse, I headed for my car.
Looking back was the last thing I wanted to do. I heard him walk out onto the porch, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of me looking back at him. This plan was supposed to bring me closure, not force me to look at the past. It was supposed to help me move forward from the anger I harbored towards Chris, not make me even angrier. I backed out of his driveway without looking at him, then drove towards my own home.
I couldn’t wait to hold Caleb in my arms again.
Heading straight home, I relieved the nanny of her duties, though she was shocked I was back so early. I rushed her out the door before she had a chance to ask me questions, then I went and sat on the couch with Caleb. He was bright-eyed and happy as could be. A full stomach, a clean diaper, and his favorite blanket wrapped around his body. I bounced him on my leg and we got down onto the floor to play with his favorite toys. We crashed cars around and built a tower he enjoyed knocking over. I even picked out his favorite book and we sat on the couch and read.
This was the life I wanted.
Myself, my son, and my career.
Chris was nowhere near that picture.
Chapter 8
Christopher
The final day of regular practice was here. One last day to work out all the kinks the girls hadn’t managed to master before the formal dress rehearsal tomorrow. The dress rehearsals were always my favorite. All of the outfits would be backstage and the makeup and hair stylists would be trial-running how long it took them to get the girls up and running. The fashion designer would approve or deny the aspects he liked, then he would have the final say in how the show turned out.
It was always a long night when the divas of the fashion world were involved, but we were paid very well so it usually didn’t matter.
Thankfully, the regular practice was going well. None of the girls were tripping over their fucking feet anymore so there hadn’t been any massive stumbles. The girl in the wrist brace could take it off during the runway show, which was good. Otherwise that brace would have cost her the job and I would have been scrambling trying to find a girl to take her damn place at the last minute.
All that drama aside, watching Jessi was a thrill. As the only plus-sized model on the stage, she stood out from the rest. I’d always thought Jessi was gorgeous. From the first time I met her when she was sixteen, up until now. She had embraced her curves instead of trying to starve them off her body. She rocked them with a confidence that tugged at my cock and a fire that burned my gut. Curvy women had always been my type, but Jessi was beyond anything I’d ever seen before. Hips that swayed widely and smooth thighs that sloped in all the right places. A thick ass to grab handfuls of and tits I could sink my entire face into.
Fuck.
Watching her walk across that damn runway was more than I could take.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t invite her back to my place to indulge in her body. I had plans with her brother, Justin. The two of us had been best friends since we were little, and he’d been itching to get me out for the last month. But the more I watched Jessi walk that damn stage, the more willing I became to blow him off for his fucking sister.
So I left before I got a chance to talk with her.
“Hey, man! Finally. It’s getting harder and harder to pull you away from those women,” Justin said.
I embraced my friend before the two of us sat down at a table.
“Whatcha drinking?” I asked.
“A Manhattan.”
“No more rum and cokes?” I asked.
“Gotta switch it up every now and again. You still slinging back beers.”
“Always,” I said with a grin.
“So—how’s the show coming along? Any hot ass women you can set me up with?”
“I’ve been good, how are you?” I asked.
“Come on, you know I’m joking. Skinny’s never been my type.”
“You and me both, brother.”
The two of us clinked our drinks before I took the first pull from my beer.
“I’m glad you’ve been good. And that you’re fucking back in town. How long are you here for?” Justin asked.
“Hopefully for a while,” I said. “I have no intention of leaving.”
“Good. I’ve missed my wingman.”
“Not getting enough pussy without me around?” I asked.
“I’m doing fine, but it’s no fun when I’ve got no one to brag about it to.”
“Ah, so I’m just another one of your props.”
“Says the guy surrounded by clothing props for his career.”
“Hi there.”
The soothing voice caught my attention as I whipped my gaze around to look at the woman it was connected to.
“Hello,” I said.
“I’m Charlie. I um—couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. You say you work with models?”
My eyes scanned her body as Justin grinned out of the corner of my eye.
“I can’t do anything about your career,” I said. “I’m just out having a drink with my buddy.”
“Oh, no. I’m so
rry. It’s nothing like that. It’s just—well if you’re surrounded by all those girls all day, but you’re here with your friend, I figured that was prime nice guy status.”
“Nice guys your thing?” I asked.
“I’d like them to be, if I could luck up enough,” she said. “Here’s my number, if you’d like to call me sometime.”
Then she winked at me before she turned and walked away.
“It’s so easy for you, isn’t it?” Justin asked.
“It’s really not,” I said.
“She walked right up to you. Out of the blue. That’s about as easy as it gets.”
And right on time, another woman walked up to my side.
It was like that all night. Justin and I would laugh and get a good conversation going, then a woman would come up and introduce herself. It happened so often I thought Justin was putting me on. Paying these women in drinks to throw me for a loop or some shit. But whatever the hell was going on tonight with these girls, I wasn’t interested.
I had my sights set on one woman.
And nothing was ripping me away from her again.
“Which number would you like?” I asked, as I fanned out the sheets of paper.
“You’re an honest-to-fuck dick,” Justin said.
“You put them up to this, didn’t you?” I asked.
“Not one of them.”
“Justin, I’m holding nine different numbers.”
“I didn’t talk to them, I swear!”
“You’re a terrible liar,” I said.
“Okay, I talked to three of them. But that was it! Three! The other ones—those are on them.”
“What? You think I can’t get a woman on my own? Six of these numbers says I can.”
“Six of those numbers says that women follow a pack mentality. The first three were the ones I had talked to before you came walking in twenty minutes late.”
“I’m sorry that I have a job that interferes with your drinking hours.”
“Apology accepted. Now, I want that last number you got. I’m going through a redhead phase.”
I slid the number to my friend before I got the girl’s attention. I pointed to Justin and he waved, and we watched as the girl’s eyes lit up with excitement. Justin made a show of sticking her number in his pocket and she grinned, her cheeks blushing before he turned back to me.