A Model Romance (True Love Book 3)

by Anne, Betsy

  “Hey, man!” Brian says kindly, as he greets Justin with a hard slap on his back. Jason does the same, and they flow into easy conversation.

  “I’m just going to see if Mel needs any help inside. I’ll be back,” I say, and they all three nod their approval.

  Melanie and Katie are in the kitchen, near the window that faces the patio, watching our every move.

  “So? What do you think?” Mel asks eagerly. “He’s sweet, right?”

  “That body! You girls weren’t kidding around. I can barely remember what he said to me!” I respond, fanning my face with my hand.

  Melanie bursts into a fit of laughter. I feel a pit in my stomach. Katie’s face is beet red, and she has a look of…pity? Dear God, no.

  “Hot in here, Bec?” Jason says from right behind me. I know all three of them are there, and he had to have heard what I said, and, even worse, seen my gesture. Shit.

  “Um, excuse for me for a second,” Without turning around, I run out of the room. I know I’m making an already awkward situation worse; I just have no idea what to do. Will he be flattered? Embarrassed? Freaked out? I’m mortified, and I have no idea how to recover my dignity. Melanie comes in the bathroom sporting tear-stained cheeks from laughing.

  “Oh my God, Mel, what did he hear?”

  “Don’t worry about it, he looked rather pleased. Justin loves his body so I’m sure that was about the greatest compliment you could have given. You can come out, the kids are out there, and Louise just woke up. You have plenty of distraction now.”

  She wipes the mascara out from under her eyes. We go back into the kitchen, and I look for Baby Lou. She’ll be my distraction for the rest of the afternoon. If he wants to talk to me, he’ll have to do it with her on my hip.

  Without missing a beat, he sidles up beside me, and we start to chat. Baby Lou plays with my hair and face, and he seems to enjoy it. His small talk distracts me from my blunder. It’s really nice to hang out with a guy like this, casual, no heels or champagne. I feel relaxed and at ease.

  Baby Lou never leaves my arms for the remainder of the day. I even feed her dinner while holding her. I had gotten her a little half-birthday cupcake, and hold it up to her mouth for a bite. She squashes her face into it, and grabs my cheeks and hair with pink frosting-covered hands. Mel tries to take her for a bath, and we both protest. Baby Lou wiggles into my neck to get away from Melanie’s outreached hands. Justin laughs, and tickles her. She pulls up her face and Mel scoops her out of my grasp. She screams and reaches her arms out to me. It breaks my heart; I love that little nugget. Justin takes advantage of the opportunity, and pulls me out the front door.

  “Wow, I’ve never seen a baby quite so attached before! She’s a real cutie,” he says, looking into my eyes as if to say I’m the cutie.

  “I adore her. I’ve never really been much of a ‘baby person,’ but she makes me feel like I might actually want kids someday. That’s never really been my goal in life,” I say out loud, for the first time ever.

  He steps in, and puts his arms around my waist. Our faces are close; I feel his breath.

  “I’d love to spend more time with you, without a baby along, if that’s OK.” He smiles, and pulls me in closer to his chest. I feel like I’ll melt all over their front porch. It’s been a really long time since I’ve felt a man like this. Little does he know I’d let him pick me up, throw me into his car and have his way with me, right here, right now. But I know that’s just the flood of hormones talking. I clear my throat, and try to shake the fog.

  “That would be nice, I’d like that.” As I seductively whisper that to him, I lean into his face for the inevitable kiss, but I miss. He pulls back, and for the second time tonight, I’m mortified. I stumble forward, and he tries to help me regain my footing.

  “Whoa, are you OK? I’m sorry about that, it’s just that…we have some eyes on us right now,” he whispers, and makes a slight motion to the right with his head. I look in that direction, and see Mel and Kat ogling us through the front bathroom window, peeking through the shutters like two old nosy neighbors. I can’t help but laugh, and feel better that I wasn’t being rejected. “I’d rather be alone for a first kiss.”

  “Absolutely, I agree. Thank you for that, it’ll keep them guessing,” I say with relief.

  “Melanie has my number. Please call or text me, and we’ll set something up. It was really nice to meet you, Becca.” He shakes my hand enthusiastically for our audience. I join in the game, and give him a manly slap on the back before I head in. Those two will love that.

  * * *

  We make plans to go out the following Wednesday night. I’m always free, and he doesn’t want to wait until the weekend. We’ve been texting and chatting on the phone, and he seems like a nice person. The depth of our conversations doesn’t enter into the deep end, but that’s OK. I’ve had plenty of guys over the years, especially in New York, who try to be someone they’re not.

  He lives in Evanston, not too far away, so we agree to meet there for dinner. He shows up with wet hair again, but smelling good. I’m seeing a pattern here.

  “Did you just come from the gym?” I ask as we meet in front of the restaurant.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry. I had a training session with some guys, then I hung back to do my own workout. I lost track of time.” He runs his hand through his hair, and his arm muscles tense. Pumped up from his recent workout, he looks like an underwear model. Better, actually, I’ve seen those guys, close up. They’re usually much smaller than you’d think.

  “No problem at all. Are you hungry?”

  We head into the restaurant, a cute little steak place, and sit in the back. As expected, he watches his diet closely, so no wine, just one beer, and plenty of potatoes and protein.

  “I’m running in the morning, so I can justify the carbs. Do you workout or are you one of those naturally skinny tall girls?” he asks as he shovels a large bite of baked potato into his mouth. If a question like that came from anyone else on a first date, it would seem strange, but from him it seems perfectly normal.

  “A bit of both, I guess. I do workout, but it’s not my favorite pastime. I’m lucky that I’m tall so I can hide a few extra pounds from time to time. While I was modeling it was a constant struggle to workout with nothing in my stomach for fuel. That’s a terrible feeling. It’s taken me months to be able to confidently sit down and order a meal like this. I love the freedom.”

  “Body is still a temple, though, got to treat it like one,” he says as he puts one more giant bite into his mouth.

  Our conversation stays on this track for a while. I try to explain that while I understand the importance of exercise, I like not constantly stressing out about the way I look. I’ve been doing that most of my adolescent and adult life. He doesn’t seem to get it. He’s a very nice guy, but a little too obsessive for me. Of course, that doesn’t mean we have to end this night without some fun. You don’t go to Mt. Everest to build a house and stay forever. You go there, you climb it, enjoy the magnificence and then you go home. I have the Everest of men sitting in front of me, and I fully intend to climb. I might even have some fun at base camp first, you know, to acclimate myself.

  I listen intently to the merits of different protein powders before I take matters into my own hands. I kick off one of my shoes under the table, and begin to stroke his leg with my toes. He’s mid-bite of a piece of steak, and he chokes on it. His face turns red, and he swallows a large gulp of water to help it down. I scoot my chair in a little closer, and my foot makes it way up to his thigh. His damned muscle is so hard, I can’t even squeeze it, the best I can do is wiggle my toes for some stimulation. He moves his own chair in, and I lean my foot into his crotch. He’s hard, and his eyes roll back as I use my dexterous toes to fondle him.

  He waves down the waiter, and pays the check without looking at it. I slip my shoe back on, and we stand to leave. He’s in a compromised position, so he places his hands on my hips to use my body as a shield. For
tunately, the place isn’t busy so we bolt out without anyone except me noticing his huge erection, except me. My stomach is doing back flips, I’m so excited.

  We hop into his car, and he speeds around two corners. We’re at his place in no time, and he races around to my side of the car to open my door. So nice: I have a horny gentleman! He reaches into the car, and scoops me up into his arms. He kicks the car door closed and jumps up the small stoop in front of his place. He tosses me like a ragdoll over to one side of his body, as he fumbles with the keys to unlock the door. Without so much as a bobble he opens the door, closes it behind us and flips on a light. He carries me straight to the bedroom.

  Knowing that I’m not interested in him for a relationship is freeing in a way. I’m not fumbling over what to say, or whether he’ll call after this, I just want to screw his brains out. He’s a nice person, but our conversation over dinner was the dullest I’ve ever participated in. He doesn’t get out of the gym, or around women very often, it seems. I understand, it’s his job. He made the attempt to ask about me and my work, but everything led back to working out. I wonder if he’d be interested in just being fuck-buddies? Don’t people do that all the time?

  “You’re really pretty.”

  Uh-oh, he’s talking now; I should pay attention. He does have a gorgeous body, and he looks sweet. He’s grinning like a teenager.

  “I’ve never been with someone who looks like you before. I mean, I’ve been with pretty girls, but you’re…perfect.” The dreaded word models hear, but can never live up to.

  He softly strokes my hair and then my cheek. Damn! This is not how this is supposed to go. I thought I’d come in here and we’d have each other’s clothes off in a matter of seconds and be banging like beasts by now. Tenderness is not on the table. I try my best to change the tone.

  “This is perfect,” I say as I caress his chest with the palms of my hands, slowly traveling to his waistband. I grab the bottom of his shirt and pull it up over his head. I swallow at the sight of him. Not a hair on him, anywhere, and he’s beyond chiseled. “See? I was right. Perfect,” I say as I place my lips on his chest. I roam over to his nipple, and tease it with a bite. His whole body shudders. I clamp my mouth down over it, as my tongue vigorously licks him. I feel the erection in his pants move.

  “It’s been a while for me, Becca, let’s take it slowly,” he says, while taking a step back and a deep breath. “I’m around a bunch of guys all day, so I feel like a kid in a candy store. May I?” he asks, holding the bottom of my blouse. This is going to take all night if we continue at this pace. It’s been a long time for me, too, and I just want to feel him. I nod, and raise my arms to help. He gets that lustful teenager look again, and I can’t help but feel flattered.

  He removes the rest of my clothing slowly, one piece at a time, but he still hasn’t touched me. I help him out of his pants, and try to guide him over to the bed.

  “I like you, Becca, I really do. I’ve been so excited waiting for today to come. Were you?” I feel like I should be scribbling my answer down on a note, folding it like origami, and sending it up the row in English class. That’s how young and naïve he seems.

  “I have been excited, Justin, in more ways than one.” I use that as my opener: that I’m horny and I need to feel him soon or explode. I take his hand, and I place it on my naked breast. He trembles, and his face looks darker. His eyes are shadowed, and his breath hitches. Good, we’re on the right path. Using his hand, I squeeze my breast and throw back my head and moan. This revs the engine a little more. He responds, and grabs my other breast and begins to fondle both of them roughly. His hands are calloused, and it’s a turn-on. One hand goes to my face, and the other hand moves down to my heated crotch. He grabs my pussy and slips a finger in before I even realize. The action makes me clench around his finger, and I cry out. I need him inside me.

  I gently push him back against the bed, and he falls in taking me with him. I land on top of him, and his erection. I start to kiss him deeply, and he kisses me back. I won’t deny the chemistry; this bed could spontaneously combust right out from under us. I wiggle my body to lie atop his dick, and he pauses.

  “Hang on a sec,” he says as he opens the side table drawer and produces a condom. Whoops. I wasn’t even thinking about birth control or safe sex, where is my head? He hands it to me. Shit, I don’t even know if I can remember the way these things go on. I open the package while watching his dick pulsate waiting impatiently, waiting for me. Third try, I get it on right. I’m so glad he was able to keep himself hard during that process, it was a little embarrassing.

  I climb on top of him, and he locates my warm entrance with his dick. He slips the head in, and I can’t wait any longer. I slam my body down hard so it slips in all the way to his balls. I squeeze, and it feels so damned good. I hold him for the briefest of moments, before I really begin to ride it. I grab the headboard above his head and hold on for dear life. I am fucking him like my life depends on it. I’ve never considered myself an overly sexual person, but right now I feel like I can’t get enough. He grabs my hips and helps my body satisfy us both. He reaches up to touch my lips with his finger. I think it’s his way of trying to place some emotion in what feels like a purely animal act. I bite down and he pulls back like a scolded child. At this point, I don’t care about anything other than how this feels and how soon I’ll come.

  I feel it building from deep inside and I’m powerless to stop it. I buck my hips as fast as I can to give more to the sensation. That action brings him to his own strong orgasm. He grabs my hair and screams my name as the tendons in his neck strain and pull against his large muscle. I feel beads of sweat stream down the side of my face, as I grunt and moan in pure pleasure. His hands are back on my hips, helping to guide me through my orgasm. He rocks them back and forth until I stop, and collapse on top of him.

  I must have fallen into a deep sleep, because I wake up disoriented. A large, muscular arm envelops my upper body, and I feel a warm breath on my neck. I roll over, careful not to wake him, to take a peek. He has the body of a full-grown, slightly scary, man, but the face of an innocent boy. He looks happy and thoroughly contented. He opens his eyes as I stare, and greets me with a huge smile.

  “Hi there, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?”

  Sweetheart? Is he kidding me? I pray that he uses that term all the time, but I have a feeling he doesn’t. Crap. He reaches over and kisses me deeply, and it stirs my insides. I’m pretty sure I could easily be convinced to go for Round Two, but something is telling me I need to back off a bit. He has puppy love in his eyes, and I’m not ready to go there, especially with him. He’s a nice person, but we’re not compatible otherwise.

  “Um, yeah, I did, thanks. It’s late, I should really get going,” I say over my shoulder as I rise out of the bed and look for my clothes. The clock shows that it’s 2:30 a.m., way past my bedtime. No wonder I passed out. Good food and hot sex and I’m lights out. I gather up my things and look at him. He seems hurt.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay? It’s not safe for you to be on the road this late.”

  “I’ll be fine. Remember, I came from New York, being out alone doesn’t scare me at all. Thank you for dinner, it was really nice. We’ll have to do it again sometime,” I say, as noncommittally as I can. He stands still in his doorway looking befuddled as I hop in my car and drive away. I do feel badly, I shouldn’t have used him like that. When I knew I wasn’t interested, I should have called it a night, but it’s just been so long since I’ve had sex. At the rate I’ve been going, that should hold me until Christmas.

  Chapter 4

  “Call him, Rebecca.”

  Uh-oh. When Melanie uses my full name, I know I’m in for it. She’s one-hundred-percent right, I know it, but I just don’t know what to say. It’s been two weeks since my date with Justin, and I’ve been avoiding him. He calls and texts, almost daily, but how do you let someone know that you find him as fascinating as foot fungus? I know
that it’s an unfair comparison, but most of the people I came into contact with in New York were at least interesting to talk to. Granted, a strength coach from Iowa won’t ask me to blow him after doing a line of coke off another woman’s chest like the guys in New York, but at least it leaves you with a great story to tell.

  The feelings of restlessness I felt as a bored, small-town Georgia girl are creeping in on me. I had watched the mundane lives of my family and could never have imagined living like that. I wanted excitement and glamour, not kids and a mortgage. I really enjoy living the simple life out here with Mel and her family, especially Baby Lou, but it’s a little scary, too. Day in and day out, same person, no parties, no night-life. I feel a tiny pang of envy whenever I speak to my friends back in New York. Chicago is an incredible town; I should expose myself to all that it has to offer. Maybe I can even find a modeling job, or two. This is the Midwest, I’m sure no one minds a couple of extra pounds on my frame.

  “I know, Mel, I know. I’m sorry, but he was so dull. I’m just a little confused these days. The date with him put things into perspective. I’m not entirely sure I’m ready to give up modeling for good. I think I may try to get a local agent, and do something on a smaller scale.”

  She doesn’t look surprised at my admission.

  “I get it, Bec. You did a full one-eighty with your life, and you’re having second thoughts. I would feel the same way if I were in your shoes. I was thrust into motherhood and married life so fast that I didn’t even have a chance to get my career going. You’ve had a successful career, and there are plenty of perks that came with that lifestyle. You’re young, so go do what you need to do. Just remember, you can’t just blow people off around here like you did back in New York. We’ll pause the whole matchmaker thing for now until you’re ready. I don’t want to hurt any of our friends.”