by Fox, Erin
“I’m trying to convince Viv to hire Blake Williamson for the job,” Dusty chides.
“Blake Williamson — sounds like a very ordinary name,” Charlene mutters. “But maybe it could solve that other problem,” Charlene starts. I glare at her.
“But he’s extraordinarily H-O-T-T.”
“Dust,” I whisper in a tired voice. “I mean it, stop! Thanks for the coffee, Charlene.”
“No problem. But what now, Viv? Have you chosen someone already? For the cover… and for..”
I take a sip of my latte and wince. The coffee burns my tongue and mouth, but the creamy sensation of the liquid elevates my spirits, so does my decision to hire Blake. If I review what happened earlier, especially our conversation, I have to admit that Mr. Williamson has, well, a brain. Our conversation was short, but it was nice. It was not awkward or forced. It just flowed as if he was genuinely interested to get to know me.
“Char, I think you might be right.” I groan. I hate when people talk shit about romance authors. About the genre.
But Charlene’s been telling me… readers are a little worried that I’ve spent too much time with book boyfriends. Not enough time with a real man. So over cosmos one night I tell her I should just get married. Now she thinks I’m going to slide into the DMs of some cover model and get hitched…
And now…
Honestly?
I’m kinda considering swooping that fine piece of man right off the market.
Dusty drinks his latte as if it doesn’t burn him in any way and proceeds to tell Charlene on how I made Blake stand in the room with only his boxers on. “He sported a tent, by the way, for Viv,” he says.
“Stop saying lies, Dust. Blake didn’t have an erection!”
“Viv, I may have astigmatism on one eye, but I’m not blind. He had an erection and damn proud of it!”
“He didn’t have an erection,” I whisper with a giggle.
Charlene’s eyes turn to saucers. “What? Spill!”
“He had the erection. A hard on for the ages,” I say, sticking my pinky out for some faux fancy intrigue.
Ignoring how much my tongue hurt, I gulp down my latte and crush my paper cup. The coffee warms my stomach and, eventually, my whole body, and I turn red not because of my drink, but Dusty may be right on Blake’s tent. Campy humor or not, lord, it was magnificent. I did see the erection and the cocky, upturned grin the confident male model had, but I just outright refuse he would react that way towards me. For goodness’ sake! I’m wearing a messy bun and dressed as though I am working for at bank — button-up blouse, pencil skirt, and heels! I’ve seen some pretty sexy authors out there. I skipped that for today’s photo session.
“Let’s move on from that, Dust. So, who do you like for the cover?” I say.
Dusty shrugs his shoulders. “It’s not like we have that many options, Viv. Your Dominic Alistair standard has always left us with three to five options to choose from, but I think Blake Williamson is the best choice for The Heartthrob.”
I nod my head. “Yeah, same thoughts, Dust. When he walked in, I thought I was seeing the Dominic Alistair from my dreams.”
“Oh em gee!” Charlene squeals behind me. “Does that mean you’re going to take him?” I know she’s thinking both for the cover and like I’m supposed to marry the guy. Eesh.
I sigh and search for Blake’s contact information on our list of male models. “Yes, Char,” I say in a tired, resigned tone, but as I dial his number, I am beginning to feel anxious and excited. After three rings, Blake finally picks up. “Hey Blake! It’s me Vivienne.”
Dusty shouts over the phone’s receiver, “Congratulations! You got the job!”
I elbow Dusty away from me and sigh again. “Sorry. That was unprofessional of us, but just as Dusty says, you got the job, Blake. Are you up for it?”
“Cool. When can I start?” Blake asks.
“I’ll just text you the details, alright?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Ms. Cox. Goodbye.”
“Bye,” I softly whisper and put down my phone.
Charlene hops beside me and claps her hands. “We need another round of lattes for this!”
“Agreed,” Dusty clamors.
I shake my head, but a tiny, crooked smile betrays the cool, business-like expression on my face. A little congratulatory coffee break won’t hurt me.
“Viv,” Charlene whispers in my ear. “See, you and I know it doesn’t take much after some insta-lust. Get. Your. Man.”
We both laugh.
I don’t know what makes me laugh harder.
How silly it seems.
Or how silly it doesn’t seem…
No man’s ever had this effect on me.
4
Blake
I can hardly contain my smile when I pick up the phone and hear Vivienne Cox’s voice. It is low and sultry. the kind of voice that’ll remind you of Scarlett Johansson. There’s a touch of nervousness in her tone when she tells me I’m hired for the job and am to meet her at the publisher’s office. When she says goodbye and hangs up the phone, there is a feeling of melancholy creeping into me as if I don’t want the call to end or not hear her voice.
I want to impress Vivienne — make an imprint in her brain so she will not forget me, not make me into a second, passing thought. That is my goal right now. I like her, her confidence, her aloof, nonchalant manner of speaking to me as if I am air — unnoticeable and not worth a second of her time; and, if I am to be honest, I want to tear her clothes off, free her hair from that uptight bun, and fuck her crazy. I have only met her once, but shit! She makes me hot and horny, and no other woman will suffice this urge of mine unless I finally bed Vivienne Cox and make her scream my name in ecstasy.
I have it planned out. I will seduce Vivienne Cox, seek her out, call her phone and make stupid excuses about the book cover. Once she’ll see how interesting I am, I’ll seduce her even more, tease her, and when she’s finally hooked, I’ll steal a kiss. I must be careful with this one. A kiss may lead me to a lawsuit or to her bed. Hopefully it’ll be the latter. I’ll do this all because, my god, I may already be half in love with her.
Fuck. I know I need to convince to have me for more than just a cover. I need to make her my wife.
The next day I wake up early at five in the morning and prep myself for my 10 o’clock shoot. The thought of meeting Vivienne again and seeing her in a pencil skirt excites me even more. The job is just a shoot for a smut novel, but if I want to put my plan in action, I have to do extra with my work out. I add ten more to my push ups, curl ups, and sit ups and ten more minutes on the treadmill. In the shower, I carefully choose which shampoo and soap to use.
I work fast on cleaning myself up. I put on a black t-shirt, jeans, and rubber shoes. I grab a cab and hurry to the publisher’s. A staff, a stout, motherly lady, leads me to a conference room she dubs as the “book cover shoot room”.
“Vivienne has always had excellent taste when it came to male models,” she tells me and opens the door for me. “Good luck.”
As I walk in I notice a few boxes of props and clothes racks full of costumes. I see Vivienne in tight jeans and a loose gray sweater. Her hair this time is in a ponytail. She’s tinkering with a camera and talking softly to the man I met yesterday. They haven’t noticed me padding closer to them, and I say, “Hi!”
Vivienne turns around and smiles. “Hey you! You’re actually quite early.”
“Fifteen minutes early,” the man chirps. “So, a grande matcha latte — ? Is that all?”
“Oh, and a blueberry muffin sounds divine right now, Dust. Please?” She pouts her lips and I smile. Vivienne looks cute when she tries to act childish.
Dust looks to me. “What about you, pretty boy? Do you want some coffee?”
“Just black coffee for me,” I say.
“I like a man who likes his drinks simple but strong,” he comments and winks at me. “Alright. I’ll see you two in a while.” He crosses to the door and exists the room.
A hush follows Dust’s departure, and I am keenly aware that Vivienne and I are all alone. There are no staff to help with the costumes, no camera man to direct me with the shoot. There is only she and I, and it makes my heart pound.
Vivienne sets the camera on the tripod and turns to me. “I’d like to do some test shots first before we start with the actual shoot.”
“Wait,” I mutter. “You’re the photographer?”
She shrugs her shoulders and flashes the camera at my face. “I have a vision, Blake, and I’d be a damn fool to let any photographer mess it up and give me mediocre results.”
She’s both confident and feisty. I am beginning to like her more. I stroll over to the clothes rack and flick through the hangers. There were kilts, tail coats, scarves, vests, and other period clothing I may have to wear a little later. “Am I to wear any of these?” I ask.
“You don’t have to right now. I’ll need you shirtless anyway,” she says blatantly. She doesn’t react to what she has just told me, but I am blushing like a virgin.
“Y-yeah, that’s cool,” I stutter and pull my shirt over my head and hang it in the clothes rack.
The room is a bit chilly with the electric fan blowing close to me. I stand in front of the camera with a green screen behind me and clap my hands once. Vivienne stares at me with heavily-hooded eyes and bites her lower lip as she concentrates on whatever idea she has on mind. I stare at the curve of her lips — enticing and inviting.
“I want you to put one hand over your shoulder. No, not like that. Wait!” she comes over to me and guides my hand over to my heart. “I think the hand on the shoulder wouldn’t work with that build of yours,” she says. Her breath fans my mouth like a tickle, but our nearness doesn’t bother her.
“Now,” I whisper and inch my mouth closer to hers. I snake a hand to the small of her back, she gasps, and I smile as I work my other hand to the back of her head. “Would it be alright if I do this with a female model?”
Her eyes twinkle and she wedges her hands between us. “Oh Blake,” she says in a low, husky voice. “I don’t need a female model for this cover.”
I put a hand over hers and grin wide. She’s finally reacting over my presence. “I wouldn’t mind if you were part of the shoot, though.”
5
Vivienne
Blake terrifies me. Not one inch of him is soft or delicate. He is all angles and hard muscles. He is the very definition of man and sex on a stick, and to my excitement and horror, he is my Dominic Alistair. He is what my young mind conjured back in grandma’s house in Florida, and he is the man I’ve been writing all about since high school.
It’s petrifying to be locked in his arms without his shirt on, his chest grazing my erect nipples. He smiles at me with a confident, school boy charm I bet he has used on a plethora of women, and it scares me even more knowing I may be just like his other women or booty calls. I don’t want that, but damn it! I’ve never had a man who looks at me as if he is about to devour me even though I’m in my most casual of clothing and my hair is tied in a ponytail.
His grip on me is tight and strong, but I manage to slither off his arms and stand behind the camera as if it will protect me from my male model. I tinker on the camera, pretending I have to adjust the focus. “I think a female model isn’t necessary,” I say in the coolest and calmest of voices I can manage.
“Is that right?” he asks noncommittally. He walks to the door and I hear the click of the lock.
I turn around, gripping on the tripod for support. “Dusty might come in any second with our orders.”
“I know,” he says in a slow drawl. “That’s why I’m asking you to pretend we don’t hear him or anybody.”
“Pretend?” I gasp. “What for? Blake, I’m not paying you to do these things.”
“Oh honey,” he whispers and strides toward me with a smile. “I’ll do this for free.” He grabs me by the waist. His cheek is against mine, and his breath lingers on my throat. “I’ll listen to anything you say.” He takes possession of my hand and guides it through his chest and abdomen. I purr at the feel of his erotic body and he chuckles softly in my ear. “You like it?”
Out of better judgement, I whimper and mewl, “Y-yes.” I can feel my panties dampen and my knees start buckling.
He licks my throat and I stifle a moan. “Relax,” he mumbles in my ear. His mouth trails soft kisses on my neck and jaw until he finally crashes his lips against mine.
“Blake,” I moan against his mouth, which only encourages him to kiss me longer and deeper. His tongue slides around my mouth before I grant him entrance.
He teases me with his taste and his fingers pull my hair free from the suffocating hair tie. “I’ve been wanting to do this,” he pants and devours my lips once more. His hand trails from the small of my back to the back of my head and runs it through my locks in a lover-like manner which makes me press myself closer to him.
Blake bows his head and bites my nipples. His tongue flicks my right nipple and I wail. He chuckles. “You’re pretty damn sensitive, Viv.”
I watch him take his Levi’s and boxers off without a hitch, and he stands before me in such Adonis-like glory my pussy is crying and begging for him, for that god-like rod to enter and pound me without mercy, without restraint. “Blake, t-this isn’t what I had in mind for the cover,” I gently say.
“I know, but I want to make love to you — bad,” he says without shame and his cock instantly stands, and I catch my breath in awe of it. “You’ve been in my mind since yesterday, Viv. I want you so bad it hurts.”
I shake my head. “T-this is totally unprofessional — ” I sharply breathe in when Blake pokes his cock on the back of my hand. My fingers, in my surprise, close around his length. He is both thick and strong and can easily destroy me if I force it in me — but I want him, too, as badly as he wants me and I’m wet enough there’s no forcing, here.
“Let me make love to you,” he whispers in my ear.
It’s romantic how he calls it making love instead of fucking. Blake is temptation and I don’t want to make love right now. I want us to fuck like wild animals.
I want this moment to be immortalized. I go over the camera and set the timer. Blake watches me curiously, and once I am done tinkering, I return to him.
I take a deep breath and kneel, and the camera clicks for a second. Blake’s amazing, engorged cock is pulsating and smells amazing. I’ve never been so turned on just by the scent of a man, much less of his cock, but it’s working. I’m only staring at it, but precum is already dripping out. I open my mouth wide and swallow him from tip to base. I haven’t started yet, but he shoots cum into my throat.
“Oh fuck,” he groans. I gulp his cum down and remove his dick from my mouth. Blake grows limp and turns red all over. “Shit! I’m not usually like this. I’m not a bad performer,” he stutters.
He looks endearing with his mouth in a frown and his brows wrinkled. Clearly, he is in distress, and it turns me on even more. I stand and take my clothes off in a hurry but leave the panties on. “You tasted good,” I say. Blake looks at me uncertaintly, but desire is in his eyes. I slowly remove my wet panties and throw it over my shoulder. “You say you’re not a bad performer?”
He wordlessly shakes his head and his cock erects once more. His dick is harder and bigger this time around.
I smile and wrap one leg around his waist. The tip of his cock cock against my slit, poking at my clit. “Then you better do me hard,” I whisper. I hold onto his shoulder and lock both my legs around his hips. As I straddle him, I slowly lower myself and Blake pushes himself against me.
He slides into me unhurriedly, while staring at me with wonder written all over his face. I hiss when his whole length is finally inside me. “What do you want?” he asks.
My whole body is shaking. He is definitely thick and tearing me apart with his beast of a cock. It is mind-numbing, and I can barely mumble, “Fuck me — hard.”
Blake pulls his whole cock ou
t and slams against me. I cry in wanton pleasure, and he pounds and thrusts over and over and over again until I grow limp in his arms. He carries me and pushes my whole body against the wall, where he mercilessly impales me with his incredible cock.
“Fuck! So good! My god, you’re killing me, Blake,” I scream, and he grunts in reply.
His mouth nibbles at my nipples, torturing me even more. I dig my nails on his back and lick his throat. My pussy sings in delight while I cry for more of his cock.
“Viv, I’m coming,” he grunts in my ear.
“Yes! Oh fuck, yes! Shoot your cum into me. Don’t waste one drop of it.”
I’m bouncing against him, loving the sound of our fucking. My pussy clenches around him tightly, and Blake pauses. His body convulses and he takes me into an earth-shattering orgasm. We both arch our backs and I wail like a cat in heat, pleasure nearly numbing my brain.
6
Vivienne
I am still in the middle of my orgasm when Blake pulls his cock out and slams into me again.
Oh my god! He isn’t done yet!
He lays on the floor while I am on top of him. I look into his eyes and watch his face scrunch with pain and pleasure as I ride him hard and fast. I am still sensitive from our first round of fucking, but I am eager to please him as much as he pleased me. He watches my breasts bounce and bounce as though he is hypnotized. He grips my hips harder and he starts moving his hips. Our movements are in sync, and it isn’t long when my pussy begins singing praises for his cock again.
“Fuck, Viv!” He turns me over and spreads my legs wider. He pounces into me wordlessly while he bites on his lower lip. He pounds and thrusts and works his way into making me come all over again.
My hands hold onto his hair as his rhythm changes and he fucks me harder as if I am having sex with a jackhammer instead. He drills into me deeper and I arch my back with every lunge of his amazing cock. I twist my head from side to side and finally lock my legs around his waist. He is skewing me hard and I am no longer on the floor as I tighten around his cock, and Blake takes me back to heaven.