Love Me, Cupid

by Sylvia Fox

  Love Me, Cupid

  Sylvia Fox

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Also by Sylvia Fox

  Cock Me, Pilot

  Chapter 1

  Join the mailing list

  Sylvia’s Foxy Ladies

  and never miss a release!

  Sylvia’s Other Titles

  Drill Me, Sergeant

  Frisk Me, Officer

  Mentor Me, Professor

  Cock Me, Pilot

  Ignite Me, Fireman

  Treat Me Doctor

  Play Me, Coach

  Save Me, SEAL

  Plow Me, Farmer

  and more coming soon…

  Chapter One

  HAILEY

  Turning on the water in the shower, all I want to do is wash off the smell of ground coffee from my body. I love being a barista. But I don't love ending an eight-hour shift knowing I look like a Frappuccino threw up all over me. My apron is splattered in coffee, my hair is flat, and my feet are killing me. I'm bringing sexy back one mocha at a time.

  Said no one ever.

  Slipping off my black pants and white top, I throw them in the hamper. Good riddance. I have the next four days off from work and all I want to do is binge watch Versailles, drink boxed wine, and make Pinterest boards for the life I am not living.

  I step into the shower, and dammit all to heck. Are you kidding me with this? I pull the curtain back, shouting, "Jessa, get in here!"

  My roommate bounds into the bathroom, wearing boy shorts and pulling on a muscle tee. "What's the problem?"

  "Were you naked?"

  "Yeah, Chris is over. We were just about to get kinky."

  "That's awesome," I tell her, rolling my eyes, because really-- do I need that detail? The answer is no. Absolutely not. "But there's no hot water. Did you pay the bill?"

  She grimaces, guilt written all over her face.

  "Are you kidding me? It's not funny Jessa."

  Before she answers me, Chris is in the bathroom, and I pull the curtain closer to me to cover myself now that I not only smell like dirty chai, but I am also shivering.

  "What's wrong?" he asks.

  "Your girlfriend didn't pay the bill," I tell him, trying to remain cool. It's not that hard. I am literally freezing.

  "Oh, shit," Chris says, running his hand through his hair. Jessa runs to her room and grabs her phone.

  "I swear I paid it. Let me check." She scrolls through her email while Chris stands behind her and wraps his hands around her waist and kisses her neck. Because that's not awkward for me. "Oh, my god, oh, my god." Jesse's eyes go wide and she starts jumping up and down.

  "So, you paid it?" I ask, wanting to wash my hair. Oh, scratch the shower. I should draw a bath. I've earned my days off, dammit, and I deserve to sit here and soak for an hour.

  "No," Jessa says waving her hand. "It's way better. Like waaaay better."

  I groan. "Seriously, no hot water?" I've got laser focus and right now all I am thinking about is a full tub, a glass of chardonnay, my kindle, and a lock on the bathroom door.

  "No, I'm so sorry. Chris will call and pay." She doesn't even look at him when she says this, but he obediently pulls to his phone and walks out of the bathroom. I have no idea what it would be like to have someone so devoted to me.

  Heck, I've never had a boyfriend. But if I did, I guess a man who can't keep his hands off me and will help fix my problems is a good place to start.

  "Listen, Hailey, this is big," Jessa says, her arms in the air dramatically. "This is life-changing big."

  I eye her skeptically as I grab a towel from the rack and wrap myself in it, realizing there isn’t going to be a luxurious bath anytime soon.

  "Just tell me," I say, sitting on the lid of the toilet.

  "The show, CUPID'S ARROW, just emailed. They want to meet you."

  "What are you talking about?" I ask, my eyes wide. My heart beating. Is this for real?

  "They want you to come in for a casting call." She shakes her head in disbelief. "Holy fuck, you might get on the show!"

  "Really?" I push my lips forward trying to see if my longtime friend is being honest. When we sent in that application, I never actually thought they would choose me.

  I shake my head, Jessa is beaming at the fact she got me a casting call with the most famous reality television show on the planet. A show where one single man has ten women to date and choose from until he finds his "true love."

  "You deserve this, you're so beautiful and so sweet, and yet... you've never been in love," Jessa says. "You deserve to find happiness."

  "I am happy." And it's true. I graduated college last summer, and even though I couldn't find a teaching job since the school year was starting so soon, I found another job to tide me over. I took a job as a barista, and honestly, I love it, maybe even more than having a classroom. The customers are nice, I like making drinks that I know will make people happy, I have health care, and the tips are good.

  Sure, I smell like rotten milk half the week, but no job is perfect. And I am not someone who needs a man to make me happy.

  "I know you're happy, sweetie. You're too sweet to complain about anything besides smelling like French roast. But I think you've waited too long to start looking."

  "I'm twenty-two, Jessa, I'm in no rush."

  "I know, I know," she says, raising a hand in defeat. "But I think it's time you had sex. In a Cupid Suite."

  I snort. "No pressure."

  "Look, just go to the casting call. Don't you want to find true love, Hailey?"

  I exhale, my chin resting on my hands. "Of course, I want love, but I wonder if it's as simple as that." And she has no idea how much I believe that.

  I know who I want to fall in love with. However, the odds of me ever getting that are slim to none.

  Though getting on this show will take me one step closer.

  "Nothing is easy with love, Hai," Jessa says, as Chris comes up behind her again, waving his phone triumphantly.

  "Some things are easy with love, though," he says. "Hot water will be on in a few minutes."

  "Thank you, Chris," I tell him, relieved. I'm already thinking about where I stashed my bath bombs after my last splurge at LUSH.

  "So, what do you think, Hailey?" Jessa presses.

  "I think you are going to have to help me find something to wear."

  "I thought you were taking a shower?" she asks.

  I sigh, shaking my head at this girl who manages to drive me crazy and yet is always looking out for me.

  "Not for the shower, you dork. For the show."

  "So, you’re game?"

  I grin, knowing I have nothing to lose.

  And everything to gain.

  "I'm game. But you know these shows are rigged, right?"

  "Eh." Jessa shrugs. "A month in Malibu, California beats the winter in Chicago, even if the whole thing is staged."

  I nod, laughing at the insanity of this. "I'm gonna need to shave my legs if I get cast."

  "And wax your hoo-ha."

  "True." I push her out of the bathroom, the hot water back on. "Now go get me a glass of wine to make up for the water getting turned off."

  After Jessa has brought me back a glass of please-forgive-me-Chardonnay, and Chris has managed to get the hot water turned back on, I sink into the tub letting the hot water soothe my standing-on-my-feet-all-day body.

  My mind though … it’s already found it’s happy
place. Within seconds my fingers are already between my legs.

  I touch myself, thinking about what has just happened.

  Months ago, Jessa and I filled out the application for Cupid's Arrow on a fluke. We were half drunk and mostly joking, but Jessa kept saying I needed to take a chance on love. And not just love.

  I needed to pop my cherry.

  Apparently, the bachelor on this season of Cupid is this douche canoe named Joshua. He's always on Snapchat doing ridiculous things like posting almost-dick-pics and tweeting about his latest conquest. Not exactly the man I want to give my virginity to. Not a guy with a reputation like that.

  Not the guy at all.

  But I didn't tell Jessa that.

  There was one reason and one reason only I let her upload that application and press send. And when she just announced that I was accepted for the casting call, there is only one reason I didn't throw a fit and flat out refuse.

  My fingers press against my pussy and I close my eyes, dreaming of what it would mean like to be on the show.

  To actually, see the man I've dreamt about taking me forever.

  I slip my fingers inside myself, moving up and down, my nipples hard, and poking through the bubble filled bathwater. I sigh, imagining seeing him... having him touch me, taking me. I've always been so innocent, reserved. The good girl. But I know if I got on that show, I would lose all abandon.

  I move my fingers faster, touching myself like I've practiced so many times. I widen my pussy, my thumb on my clit, pressing hard against the throbbing nub.

  I'm so close to coming. But I never get close enough. It sucks, just like it always does, that I get so close but I can never really get myself off. Still, I keep touching myself, imagining him, knowing the only way I will ever really be satisfied is if it is him touching me. Filling me.

  I sigh, relishing the idea of Sean Morris giving me his arrow.

  That's right, I don't want to get on the show because I want some pansy-ass boy like Josh. I only ever let Jessa sign me up because I've dreamt that maybe I could get a chance to see the man I've wanted for so long.

  Sean, the host of Cupid's Arrow. A man who is almost forty, with broad shoulders and piercing eyes. He's not a boy, not some guy--no, Sean is all man.

  I touch myself, grinding my hand over my pussy, giving into the fantasy that has kept me awake for so many nights.

  With him on my mind, with the idea of meeting him so close, I can almost touch it, and for the first time in my life I really orgasm. "Yes, yes, take me, Sean," I moan to myself, the aching need finding a release.

  I'm gonna go to that casting call and I am going to rock it.

  They won't know what to do with the sweet virgin girl like me, but when I get on that show and come face-to-face with Sean, I know exactly what I'll do with him.

  I'll give him my virginity.

  Chapter Two

  SEAN

  The women for the show have been cast, not that I have anything to do with that. I'm the host and have been for the past ten years. During that time, I've seen hundreds of girls come to the mansion, hoping to find love.

  Most of them don't, most just come to get drunk on the never-ending free flow of champagne while high on the hope of finding their one true love. Or, more likely, a few minutes on a syndicated television show.

  I'm not exactly a skeptic, but I do think this whole thing is bullshit. Most of the time, a bachelor just ends up giving his arrow to the girl he thinks is the most attractive. The one who will give him the highest ratings. Or the quickest route to a blowjob.

  Occasionally we'll have a guy pick a sweetheart, but that's only because he wants to look good on TV.

  Rarely do you find love on a reality show.

  To be perfectly honest, I feel sorry for the girls who show up here. If they truly wanted love they should pack up and head home--before they are booted on national television.

  But, I am employed by Cupid's Arrow, and I keep comments like that to myself, a nondisclosure agreement keeps me quiet, no way in hell would I risk losing my millions over airing my true opinions about the dating show.

  Sometimes I think I'm getting too old for this shit, maybe I should get a new job, one where I might have time to find a real woman. A woman who knows what she wants, doesn't need love, per se, to make her happy... A girl who believes finding a partner is just the icing on the cake.

  No woman like that has ever walked through the doors of the Cupid's Arrow mansion. The women here are fake boobs, fake tan, and half the time, rocking a fake accent. Per the stats, Southern girls are more likely to be given an arrow during the arrow ceremony.

  I walk out of my trailer, headed to the set in front of the mansion. Josh, this season's twenty-five-year-old bachelor with a trust fund and a nice suit, waves me over.

  "Hey, Sean," he says. "Any pro tips before the games begin?"

  "Be open, be willing," I say. "These women have given up a lot to be here, respect them and they will respect you."

  Josh looks at me like I'm crazy and I have the sudden urge to walk off the set and never return. But then I think about the women coming, and knowing Josh is sleazier than any other guy on this show--which is saying something. I feel I must stay here, watching out for the women, is my duty--and I take it seriously.

  Before he can say some asshole remark, the producer Charlene is here, barking orders and telling us where to stand.

  As I get in place to film the opening spots, my mind is racing. At thirty-eight maybe it's time I settle down, leave the bullshit of the show and start over. God knows I have enough cash to do whatever the hell I want.

  So, do I want this?

  If I were to leave, I'd settle down with a woman who is nothing like Charlene. Charlene's all business, high intensity, and drama.

  If I were to pick my dream woman she should be soft and sincere, pretty without trying and able to hold a conversation. I don’t think my standards are unrealistic, and as I look around the set, with the first limo pulling up, I know I'm not going to find a girl like that here.

  "I really hope they found some hot ones," Josh says. I look at him assuming he's joking, but I take in this douche bag and realize he's completely serious.

  To him, this show is about finding a hot piece of ass to take to the Cupid Suite at the end of the season. To drop on one knee, and offer his final arrow--not because he's intending on making a life with them. It's for ratings.

  As simple and clear-cut as that.

  "Just treat them with respect," I say again, feeling the need to really get that point across. Then I pivot toward the camera and begin reciting my lines.

  "Welcome to the tenth season of Cupid's Arrow. Get ready to watch our bachelor, 25-year-old Joshua Harmon, from the great state of California. We will see him meet ten women, and fall in love with one. The women are about to arrive at the Cupid Mansion where they will meet Josh for the first time.

  "Each week he will offer his arrow to the women he sees a future with. But after six weeks, there will be only one woman left. Join us as we watch Joshua find love in Malibu, California."

  I finish and the director says cuts. Stepping away, I step out of the camera view so the women can begin exiting the limo.

  I watch as the women introduce themselves to Joshua, one at a time, all in revealing dresses, slinky, and with the hope of exuding sex. The breasts pushed together, their legs lean, their hair big. Some kiss Joshua on the cheek, others ask him to grab their ass, and two of the more forward ones arrived on set wearing costumes--a mermaid and a puppy dog.

  I don't get it either.

  After nine women have exited the limo, and head for the champagne party, I'm ready to wrap up this part of the evening up. I can take a few hours off during the champagne party--head to my trailer--and come back on set for the arrow ceremony.

  But then the final girl gets out of the limo.

  In an instant I know she's not like the rest. She's smiling, offering a soft, natural smile. One that say
s I'm not trying too hard. Not trying at all.

  I watch as she walks toward Josh, wearing black heels and a pink dress. It's strapless, belted around the middle and hits her mid-thigh. She looks classic, confident. She isn't a girl--she is a woman.

  The kind of woman Josh has no idea what to do with it.

  "Hello," she says to him. I step forward, unable to look away. I want to hear her voice, catch her eyes. I've never had this reaction to a woman on set before but Goddammit, I can't help myself. I need to know her name.

  "I'm Hailey," she says, giving him a quick hug.

  I watch as his arms wrap around her waist, lowering his hands to her ass. She steps away before he can grab it, and thank God, she does because I have this animal instinct to push his hand away, and to take Hailey somewhere safe.

  I don't want the vultures inside the mansion at that champagne party to attack someone who looks as sweet as a sparrow.

  "I'm Josh." Josh gives her a movie star smile, and I swear the directors zoom in on his white toothy smile.

  I don't look anything like Josh. I'm taller, more ripped, the only difference is, I don't lead with that. I wear clothes that downplay my strength. The women who tune in to this show each week are expecting to see an alpha-hole like Josh. Not a man like me.

  "And what do you do, Hailey?" Josh asks.

  "I'm a barista." She shrugs. "I have a teaching degree but I haven't landed a job yet."

  Her words catch me off guard, and they must catch the producer off guard too. Immediately, Charlene waves the cameraman over and prompts Josh to ask Hailey more questions.

  The thing with the show is, most girls lead with sex. End with sex. Speak of sex. Most girls don't talk about anything authentic, anything real.

  They would never say I haven't landed a job. Most girls here want to tell you everything they do have. An impressive job or a unique talent. A working vagina.

  "So, you're a coffee girl?" Josh asks.

  "Sure, I mean, I can make a mean espresso."