The Cover Model

by Cheyenne Meadows

  Her hazel eyes locked on his as she chewed on her bottom lip. She inhaled deeply. "I can't believe I'm saying this, and I'll surely kick myself later, but okay. I'll give you one more chance."

  He grinned widely, lifting her hand to brush a kiss across her knuckles. "You won't regret it. I promise." Curiosity nagged at him. "Why did you follow us to her room?"

  She blushed slightly and looked away. "I still couldn't believe you'd abandon me like you did. For a moment, I thought there had to be something fishy going on." She shrugged. "I guess I needed to see for myself that you were two-timing me." Her face pinched. "I couldn't think of another reason to get inside the room, to find out what was going on. Pretty lame, but it's all I had at the moment."

  Mitch grinned as he felt his heart tug. "Not at all. First of all, thank you for rescuing me. Secondly, I know exactly what you mean. Sometimes even the best minds tend to stutter."

  "Even yours?"

  He nodded. "Especially mine." Kissing her hand once more, he sighed. "She won't interfere with us again. You have my word."

  Chapter 14

  "Where are we going exactly?"

  After giving her time to shower and change, Mitch dragged her back downstairs, not the least deterred when she refused to attend the costume party. Instead, they found their way to a large buffet table filled with entrees, side items, and desserts provided by one of the publishing companies. With a bit of encouragement, she loaded up her plate, ate her fill, and watched her escort for the evening chew his food. Never before had she considered the simple act of breaking down bites of food into smaller portions even remotely sexy, but when Mitch performed the task, he somehow made the everyday action look sensual and alluring. Either that or her libido kicked into high gear, turning everything into a symbol of sex. If he makes pulling mashed potatoes from a spoon look like enticing foreplay, think what he can do with his tongue and lips.

  With a silent groan, she forced the new images from her mind, scolding her newly arrived hussy voice to keep quiet. He didn't need the ego boost, and she didn't need the distraction or the longings to jump in bed with a confirmed playboy.

  Mitch led her through the small groupings of women dressed for the western theme party and farther down the hall. "Since you didn't want to dress up again, I thought we might attend the alternate entertainment."

  "Which is?"

  "There are author readings in one of the smaller conference rooms."

  "Author readings?"

  He slowed, allowing her to pull abreast while matching his steps to hers. "Yep. Some of the authors bring their books and read portions from it. Kinda like pre-school at the library when an adult would read a book to a bunch of kids. Same idea, only it's the author's own stories and we're all adults." He grinned down at her. "Like last night only to a bigger audience and no bed."

  She sighed deeply at the memory, hoping she'd chosen correctly in giving Mitch another chance. He sounded sincere. Besides, something told her this might be her only chance to play Cinderella for the rest of her life. She couldn't pass this chance up. Middle age loomed ahead, and she really didn't want to spend the rest of her life alone. Work could provide only so much, after all.

  They skirted a corner and entered the last room. Fancy blinked at the scene before her. A neutral shag carpet covered the floor, holding a couple of sofas, some straight-back chairs, and a handful of bean bag seats, setting up an environment of laid-back relaxation. A lush, plump arm chair sat at the front of the room, presumably waiting for the first author to enter, sit down as if taking the throne in a medieval castle in front of the small community of peasants. Extra pillows were stacked in one corner, apparently free for the taking. All in all, there were enough seats for perhaps twenty people tops, much different than the number anticipated several doors down at the main auditorium. Yet the cozy atmosphere promised an evening of tranquil entertainment, a fair competition to the main attraction.

  "Where do you want to sit?" Mitch gestured toward the variety of furniture sprinkled throughout the room.

  "Sofa?" Looking over all the selections, Fancy quickly latched onto the most comfortable looking one with the least amount of present occupants.

  He led her over to a love seat and plopped down. She followed suit, her fingers still intertwined with his. "When does the show start?"

  Flipping his wrist, he checked his watch. "Soon."

  Sure enough, within a few minutes, a few more people trickled in along with an older lady with silver hair, carrying a hardback book. She greeted a couple of ladies before taking her seat at the front of the room.

  "Are you sure you aren't going to miss anything at the party?" Fancy glanced over at Mitch, noting his clean shaven jawline, the wide brow, and waves in his short black hair. All contributed to his overall handsomeness. Combined with his prime, ripped body, he rivaled the legendary Adonis. No wonder women bought books with his picture on the cover. She certainly would.

  He turned to meet her gaze. "Nope. Not at all. Believe it or not, the parties aren't my favorite part of the conventions."

  Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. She took him for a former frat boy turned party hopper in his spare time. "It's not?"

  "Nope." He shot her a grin. "It's the people-watching."

  She smirked. Of course, most of the attendees were women, which meant he stared at the droves of ladies as they mingled and milled around the hotel, in all shapes, sizes, hair colors, and outfits. Nothing about his confession shocked her in the least.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, let's get started." The presumed author drew the small group's attention, silencing the room like a third grade teacher brought her class to order following recess. "I would like to read from my latest book entitled, Tea for Two."

  Nice title. Reminded Fancy of summer afternoons on the front porch or perhaps a wintery evening in front of a fire. Maybe baking cookies in a toasty kitchen. Romantic and sweet.

  "He secured the cuffs snugly on her wrists and picked up the small but sturdy riding crop. Whap. Whap. The stitched leather end landed on her pale flesh, leaving reddened marks behind. A drop of moisture appeared at the tip of his throbbing, granite-hard cock, the swollen purple head testament to his level of excitement, finally able to express his wildest fantasy."

  Cuffs? Riding Crop? His throbbing, granite-hard what? Nearly lulled into dozing, Fancy's eyes flew open, her mouth fell open, and her face burned as the lady continued to calmly read from her book like an audio version, revealing candid details in the tryst of lovers spending the night together. Hearing the words landed well past the risqué line, especially as the couple delved into the land of bondage and dominance. Astonishingly interested, Fancy could only stare at the woman, blink, and wonder how in the world she and Mitch managed to find the one event featuring erotica, a rather kinky variety too.

  "She's good." Mitch leaned over to whisper in her ear.

  Good? The generic word seemed so lacking and vague. Good at writing sex? Good at reading sex? Good at stimulating her audience with sex?

  Fancy's critique revolved more around the topic at hand, the hardcore play going on between the characters and how someone could read out loud without a single blush or stutter. Maybe the woman did her own audio books too. That at least made for a rational reason for her to be so calm and controlled. For all the author reacted, she could be sitting there reading Jack and Jill. Come to think of it, maybe she was. Jack and Jill Fetch Water and a Ball Gag. Jill's Been Naughty, and Jack Has a New Paddle. Jack Finds a New Well. Jack and Jill Discover BDSM. Jack and Jill's Well House Orgy.

  Choking on her own spit, she coughed to clear the obstruction. Several heads turned to stare at her.

  Mitch whapped her on the back. "Okay?"

  She nodded, sucking in a much-needed breath. "Thanks." The word croaked out.

  Good grief. Fancy swallowed hard and resisted the urge to fan herself. I've lost my ever-loving mind. Maybe the full moon that prompted others to go crazy instead pushed her horny buttons? Or
perhaps, Mitch's lust proved contagious through physical contact. She held his hand, allowing the tiny molecules of lust essence to leave his pores, sit on his skin, in order to transmit onto her hand and enter through the microscopic openings. They then congregated, congealed, and made a fast-track straight to her brain. Why else would she sit in a hotel in the middle of Seattle on vacation, listening to an older lady read about kinky fornication while sitting next to a gorgeous man whose high-decibel sex performance kept her up the first night of her stay. The cause boiled down to either Mitch or she fell down a rabbit hole at some point. Fancy would lay bets on the hunky man next to her.

  So much for her fantasy of spending the evening recalling her childhood, listening to a master storyteller weave stories of ducks, kittens, and puppies as they found adventure and trouble, coming through unscathed with the happy ending.

  Just when the scene reached a high point, or in Fancy's opinion, a particularly embarrassing and astounding scenario, the lady closed the book, grinning wickedly at the small audience.

  "If you want to know more, you'll have to pick up a copy."

  A few murmurs of frustration and discontent carried across the now silent room. The author waved them off. "I know at least a couple of the tables in the lobby have copies. Feel free to stop by." With a wink, she stood and walked to the side of the room, whispering to another lady in the wings.

  "Definitely evil." Mitch swiveled to look at her. "Either she'll incite a mass scramble for the tables to buy a copy or the ladies will march on the town, searching for a hot playmate to spend the night with."

  Fancy blinked at him, not certain what to add to his line of conversation that wouldn't encourage him or embarrass her any more than she'd already experienced.

  "So what do you think so far?"

  "It's… it's… interesting." What could she say? Bondage is the way to go? Take me to your room and tie me up? A shudder coursed through her body at the thought. No restraints in her future. Nope.

  He grinned in mischief. "Not a kinky bone in your body, huh?"

  "Not that I know of. I take it you have one?"

  "Oh, yeah. A big one."

  She sputtered once more. Unsure exactly what he meant, she clamped her mouth shut and refrained from asking. Without a doubt, she had reached her allotted level of mortification for one night already.

  "If everyone will take their seats, we'll move on to our next author presenter."

  Some of the previous attendees left, leaving several vacant places in their wake. Without the crowd, the remaining few spread out.

  Grateful for the interruption, Fancy wiggled on the sofa, adjusting for comfort. Mitch wrapped an arm around her middle, twisted to the side, and pulled her to recline against his broad chest. She opened her mouth to protest but quickly changed her mind. His conditioned muscles provided a lush surface, warm and cozy, which drew her in, providing serenity and security. Giving in this one time, she relaxed into his body, sighing in contentment.

  Chapter 15

  The next morning, Darla walked into the sex shop, noticing a bored-looking salesperson and a room full of anything and everything a person could want for their bedroom play. The lack of other customers only added icing to her cake. Glancing around, she marched straight to the back, checking out the more risqué bondage devices.

  Oh my. Her mouth began to water as she spied all sorts of toys she'd love to use on Mitch. Restraints first. Handcuffs or leather? She couldn't decide but knew they had to be stout. Her big man wouldn't like being tied down and would certainly struggle to get free. She couldn't have that, not when she had hours and hours planned for them. A short riding crop caught her attention, sending a thrill throughout her body. Bad boys did need to be punished, after all. Taking the whip in hand, she ran her fingers over the leather, checking out the sturdiness. Nah. She didn't want to leave marks on his perfect body. Slipping the item back in the holder, she stepped to her left.

  A ball gag dangled from a hook. She pondered the idea before quickly discarding the need to mute his words. No way did she want to muffle Mitch as he begged her to let him come, to drop her body on his, to take his large cock deep inside. Her breathing caught at just the image.

  "Can I help you?" The salesperson, a middle-aged woman, strode over.

  Darla glanced at her, then back to the wall of beautiful bondage equipment. "Actually, I was considering tying my husband down to the bed. Can you tell me which of these might be best?" She pointed to the row directly in front of her.

  "Well, it depends upon how comfortable you and your husband are with the notion. For beginners, I usually recommend something light like scarves, which can be torn and have more slack, giving the person a feeling of more control. They aren't nearly as intimidating as the others. The handcuffs and leather restraints are more for the seasoned couple with definite interest and high trust levels."

  Darla nodded and fingered the black leather. "Oh, he's really into this."

  "Just remember with the handcuffs, you have to have the key. Lose it, and there might be an embarrassing call to make. The leathers are simple enough to apply but quite sturdy. And they don't leave marks like the handcuffs do."

  Bingo. Sturdy and non-marking. Darla plucked the black leather restraints off the hook. "What about the feet?"

  The woman didn't even blink. "Right below on the bottom shelf."

  Grabbing up her needed equipment, Darla glanced through the section once more, impulsively snatching a pair of handcuffs as well. She stared at her goodies, then at the dozens of remaining options, sighing with longing. Oh, well. Perhaps another time. Right now, she needed to focus on Mitch.

  Catch him in his room, make him tie himself down as much as possible. She could finish the act. Then he would be at her mercy for as long as she wanted. Gleefully, she pictured all the ways she could take him. They'd be somewhat limited with his spread-eagle position, but no matter. She could ride him until the cows came home. Make him come, then lick him back to hardness once again. Make him lick her, then settle over his erection for another turn in the saddle. Over and over again. She wouldn't stop until she lacked the energy to lift a single muscle.

  Finally, after years of adoration, Mitch would be hers.

  Chapter 16

  Trotting over to a familiar table, Fancy grinned at Molly. "How's business today?"

  Molly smiled in return. "Not too bad. It's been steady all day." The older woman pinned her gaze. "How's Mitch?"

  Fancy's face heated slightly. "Umm. I guess okay. I haven't seen him today." Not that she didn't look for him on her way downstairs, in the cafeteria, even listened for him moving about his room. Oh, good grief, Fancy, you've got it bad. When her previously dormant libido decided to kick in, the silly mechanism decided to make up for lost time.

  Even after yesterday's debacle of him hitting on Darla in the elevator, she still couldn't wipe him completely from her thoughts. Not when he'd tracked her down and sincerely asked her to give him one more chance. His body language and face had vouched he spoke the truth. Her gut agreed. She'd not been sorry so far.

  "Fancy? Earth to Fancy." Molly waved her hand in front of Fancy's face.

  "Oh, sorry. I got distracted."

  Molly tittered. "I know exactly who has you so distracted."

  Fancy sighed. She brimmed with questions, concerns, and had no one to share her complicated situation with. Molly seemed like a quality person and reminded her somewhat of a mothering type.

  Sucking in a breath, Fancy blurted out her worries. "You're right. I like him. A lot. It's just he's this big-name cover model. Gorgeous. Successful. Heck, every woman would love to garner his attention."

  "True. So what's the problem?" Molly glanced around the quickly thinning room and plopped down, patting the seat next to her.

  "Why me?" Fancy took the offered chair. "I'm plain, inexperienced, and so far removed from his kind of life I'd probably qualify as an alien."

  Molly chuckled and shook her head. "Oh, dear. You
don't see it, do you?"

  "See what?"

  "You're different than the rest. Pretty, smart, working on making the world a better place. You have something to offer that those other women can't touch with a stick."

  Fancy tilted her head in puzzlement.

  "You've got backbone and integrity. Self-respect."

  She frowned. "Are you saying those other women don't?"

  Molly waved her hand. "Listen to me, girl. I've been around these conventions for years. Seen all kinds. I can tell you this; those starving models with the bought boobs can't keep Mitch's interest. Sure, they might provide for one night of entertainment. Might even appear in some pictures, but that man needs more substance. More brains and less cleavage. If you know what I mean."

  Glimpsing the turnstile display a few feet away, Fancy found an image of Mitch staring back at her. "I thought all men wanted a trophy wife and hot sex."

  Waving at a passer-by, Molly turned her attention back to the topic at hand. "That's just their dick talking."

  Fancy choked at the woman's abrupt words, earning a sharp whap to the back. By the time she cleared the obstruction, Molly prattled on. "A smart man, a true man, wants more than sex on a stick."

  "What if I can't live up to Mitch's standards?" Fancy worried her lip.

  "Honey, I saw the look on that man's face when he stared at you. Trust me, you more than make the grade."

  Fancy nodded slowly. "There was this incident yesterday where he went off with another woman. He said it was meaningless and for a greater good, but it stung. How do I trust him again? How do I know he's not just using me?"