Read A Model Romance (True Love Book 3) Online
Authors: Betsy Anne
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.”
Ouch.
Even though I know where she’s coming from, it doesn’t hurt any less. I don’t want to hurt anyone either, so I’ll put my dating life back on hold. I text Justin, and apologize for my behavior. I let him know that when I get my head sorted out, I’ll call. That’s the best I can promise for now.
* * *
Monday morning, I start my search for a new agent. I called Deb back in New York to see if she knows of anyone here locally. She begs me to come back, she claims she’s had many offers for me, but I can’t trust it. Plus, I really do love it here. If I couldn’t get my daily squeeze from Baby Lou, I’d be crushed.
She emails me a list of names based in Chicago, and I start alphabetically. Almost everyone I speak to knows who I am, and praises Deb. I have three appointments scheduled for the upcoming week. I feel a jolt of electricity thinking about what I’ll wear, and how fun it will be to step in front of the camera again.
I’m encouraged by two successful meetings on Wednesday, with offers of representation, and today is the third. This one is considered the top agency in Chicago, and not affiliated with the larger ones in New York. My meeting is with Barry Bridgewater, one of the founding partners of Bridgewater Talent. Their offices are in a tall, gleaming building on Michigan Avenue. The reception area and offices are tastefully decorated in muted colors and soft fabrics, all meant to blend in to the background so the models stand out. I get it.
I’m sent from reception to the bank of solid glass elevators. I hate heights, I have to keep my eyes focused on the buttons and not the sight of floors whizzing past. As I reach the top floor, the doors open and I’m greeted by a handsome, rather imposing man.
“Rebecca London! I am so thrilled to meet you. Big fan of your work. Please come with me to my office,” he says as he places his hand on the small of my back and guides me down the hall. He seems nice enough. Time will tell.
“So, tell me what what I can do for you today. What is it that you’re hoping to achieve out here in the Midwest?”
“Well, I’m no fool. I know that news travels fast in our world. You must know all the details of my break-up with Embrace. I’m looking to put that behind me, and do more local work. I’m not interested in making a name. I’ve already done that. I just want some work to keep me out there for a while.”
He stares at me from a reclined position in his desk chair, sits up straight, and taps his fingers on his desk.
“Yes, I did hear of your unfortunate situation. We’ve both been in this business long enough to know that things are never as they seem. I’m interested in representing you. You’re a stunning woman, and I know a number of campaigns I think would be a great fit for you.”
We chat for a long time. We know quite a few of the same people since he was in New York for school and early in his career. I feel good about letting him rep me. This may work out just as I’d hoped. We say our goodbyes, and as I rise to leave he gives me a firm handshake.
Before he releases my hand, he remarks, “You may want to shed about twenty.”
Motherfucker.
* * *
A few months later, my first job is for a regional chain of high-end jewelry stores that carries all the top name brands. Not a bad gig to be draped in diamonds a couple of hours each day. I did take Barry’s advice, and I lost the weight I had put on since moving here. To the layman’s eye, I was skinny, but to the modeling agent, I may as well have had a “wide load” sign on my backside. This campaign has me naked wearing the jewelry, so it provided the extra incentive to shed the weight the camera would have picked up.
Mel comes with me on my shoots, almost like a road manager. She’s quite a tough cookie, and she watches my back. I really could have used her in the early days. At my insistence, she brings Baby Lou along. I’ve got it bad. I can’t stand to go more than a couple of days without seeing her. Her sweet little face lights up and she giggles when she sees me. She’s beginning to walk, and Mel fusses at me when I hold her too much.
“Put her down occasionally, Bec. The poor child won’t ever learn to walk if you don’t! You’re spoiling her. She expects that from us when you’re not around,” Mel says, trying to sound firm, but she’s smiling. I know it makes her happy to see her child so loved.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Mel. Please feel free to say no, but it’s a great opportunity I think. Barry called, and told me that a photographer on my last shoot saw me with Lou, and put my name in to do a series of ads for a national baby-store chain.”
“Wow, Bec, I didn’t think you wanted to do national print.”
“Well, they’re headquartered here in Chicago, and they use a local ad firm so no traveling is involved. There’s another thing. The reason they want me, is because they saw me with Lou, and they want us both. The photographer fell in love with her, and saw how natural we were together. It’s a package deal. No Lou, no me,” I say, not wanting to sound like I’m pleading, but I am. I’d love nothing more than to do this with her.
“No, Bec. You know I hate that kind of stuff. I don’t want my baby’s face plastered all over the place. Social media is bad enough, but a national campaign? I can’t imagine Brian would be too thrilled about it, either. He’s very protective of her, you know.”
“And I’m not? I get it, Mel, I really do. I wouldn’t even mention it if it were shady in any way, but this company is very well-respected, and their ads are beautiful. We could even suggest that she only be seen from the side, so she wouldn’t be recognized. You know I’ll make sure she’s protected. Barry can represent her. Just think about it as earning a little money toward college. Will you think about it?”
“OK. Let me discuss it with Brian. When do you need to know?”
“Fairly soon. They want the campaign to run near end of fall, so we’d start shooting as soon as you sign the contract. I promise to protect her, Mel. I’ll guard her privacy and yours with my life. I’d just love to have this special little thing with her. I’ll never ask to model with her again, I swear.”
After a round of discussion, Melanie and Brian grudgingly decide to allow Baby Lou to do the shoot with me.
“Only because you’ve been so incredible with her, and so giving of yourself to us and the boys, did we agree. I fought a little on your behalf. I owe Brian some ‘favors’ of the sexual variety. You’re just lucky he’s hot as hell, and I’d do them anyway!” She laughs, and I know she’s kidding. She doesn’t mess around when it comes to her family, so I know how difficult this decision must have been.
“Thank you, Mel. We’ll make it fun, I promise.”
* * *
The shoot goes even better than expected. Baby Lou is in a great mood, and smiles and snuggles as if on cue. We have a number of different wardrobe changes, and she cooperates like an old pro. Mel has stayed in the back, allowing me to direct the shoot with the photographer uninterrupted. We know that the faster we get through it, the better shots we’ll get. He takes an exceptional number of photos so that Baby Lou wouldn’t have to go through this again, and quite a few different set-ups that can be used for any ad they want.
Mel finally relaxes when we finish up; she looks exhausted. I really owe her and Brian a big one.
“I have an idea,” I say to her as she gathers up all of Baby Lou’s toys and clothes. “To thank you for allowing this craziness, why don’t you let me stay with the kids while you and Brian take off next weekend. It’s his bye week, right? I know he’d love nothing more than to have you all to himself for a full weekend.”
“Our life has been a little crazy since we got married and had the baby, so it sounds like heaven. But I can’t ask you to do that, Bec. Trust me, it’s a lot.”
“You think I don’t know that? The boys are wonderful, and they always listen - to me at least. This little peanut won’t leave my arms,” I say while rubbing Lou’s little patch of curls at the top of her head. “Come on, you could use it, and I know it would mean the world to Brian.” I know her soft spots better than she does.