Broken Lion (40 page)

Romeo knocks on the door and we wait.

And wait.

Wait a second…

No way.

A jumble of loose thoughts suddenly straighten in my mind. It’s just a coincidence, right? Thousands of men are named Connor. It seems highly unlikely that
this
Connor is…
him.

Connor Hughes.

I haven’t seen or heard from Connor in seven years. I haven’t even thought about him…

Dark memories lasso my guts and cinch tight. I wince internally, forcing down nausea, not letting it show. I never let it show.

Keeping a straight face doesn’t stop the distressed thoughts from pinballing around in my head.

It can’t be him…

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

CONNOR

“I can’t believe how good you are in bed, Connor,” Babe, or whatever her name is, says breathlessly. “I’ve never had so many orgasms in one morning.” Her lush lips spread into a grin.

Mine don’t.

I stand naked at the foot of the bed having just dumped my condom in the bathroom trash.

Babe is a vision of caramel delight on the rumpled white confection of the hotel sheets.

I couldn’t care less.

She runs her hands across her breasts, massaging them briefly before sliding her manicured fingers down her taut stomach and between her slick thighs, stroking herself invitingly. She locks eyes with me, hers half-hooded with naked desire for more. “Mmmmm, Connor. Do you have any idea how yummy you are?”

Yes. Some other chick called me yummy last week. Yummy turned into a chick cliché four years ago. I hear it all the time.

“Your cock is twitching. Does that mean you want to go again?” she purrs.

I’m always up for fuckin. Working out seven days a week makes me horny as fuck all the time. And I have to admit, Babe is fuckin hot. But hasn’t she had enough of me? I’ve had enough of her. As hot as she is, she just didn’t do it for me. They never do. I sigh, “I don’t mean to be a dick, but I have an interview here in the room in a few minutes. I need to clean up before they get here.”

“Interview? For what?”

“It’s nothing. Some, uhhh, fitness thing,” I lie. “Some guy’s YouTube workout channel.”

“That sounds exciting.”

I always tell girls I’m a fitness model, but I never go into more detail than that. I hate talking about myself. “It’s pretty boring. Kind of technical. Blood sugar levels, triglycerides, recovery intervals. Boring shit like that.” Usually the technical talk turns them off.

“I don’t mind,” Babe purrs. “I’m sure I’ll learn something.”

Maybe this chick has potential…

She does that stripper thing where she sticks out the tip of her tongue and runs it across her top teeth. When that doesn’t work, she tweaks one of her nipples with her fingers, lifts her tit to her mouth, and licks the nip.

…Then again, maybe not.

Why’d she have to go and ruin it?

“Trust me,” I chuckle, “You’ll be snoring inside of two minutes. And the guy is a nobody. I think his biggest video has like 700 views. I’m doing it as a favor for a friend.” I’m making all of this up as I go along. Babe will never know.

“It’s no big deal, Connor. I really don’t mind.”

This always happens. A girl like her has guys throwing themselves at her 24/7. I saw it at the club last night. Five hundred different guys talked to her, but she went back to the hotel with me. What should’ve been a one-nighter is suddenly turning into a pain in my ass. I don’t know how to break it to her that I’m not interested. After fuckin them, I never am.

So, how to get rid of her?

Usually, I like the direct approach.

“You need to go,” I grunt.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

ELECTRA

Romeo leans his ear against the door, “I don’t hear anyone inside. Do you have a drinking glass?”

“Why?”

“So I can hear better. Don’t you watch spy movies?” he hisses.

“Not really.”

“Which celebrity do you think he looks like?” Romeo muses gleefully, his ear still glued to the door.

“I have no idea.” Nor do I care. My kind of man has a career path. Soft porn modeling is
not
a career path. Nothing gets me going like a suit and tie. Not that I’ve had anything going on in the boyfriend or the bedroom department since forever. I’m focused on being a journalist, not meaningless flings.

“Whatever he looks like,” Romeo swoons, “I bet he’s gorgeous. I’m picturing chiseled cheek bones, a brooding brow, smoldering eyes, and a rugged stubbled jaw.”

I smirk, “That sounds like a caveman or a neanderthal. Does he wear a leopard skin for a loincloth and carry a club too?”

“I hope so,” Romeo grins, his eyes dreamy. “Then he can pound me with his club, take me back to his cave, and pound me with his
human
club from behi—”

“Stop!” I bark.

“Never mind me,” he giggles. “A serious woman like you is only interested in serious information, right?”

“What makes you think I’m serious?” I ask defensively.

His eyes sweep up and down my outfit. One of his eyebrows arches dramatically and his face says,
Have you looked in a mirror lately?
But his mouth says, “Please, girlfriend. Your outfit was on the cover of the latest issue of Business Matron’s Monthly.”

I hide my scowl as I look down my nose at him through my stylish eyeglasses. “That’s not even a real magazine.” My long auburn hair may be pinned up in a conservative bun, but I look good in my pumps, pencil skirt, and blouse. I always dress my best so people take me seriously.

“We’ll work on tomorrow’s look later,” he smiles. “But we can do something about that uptight hair of yours.” He reaches for my bun like he’s going to fiddle with it, or worse, let it down completely. “Your hair bun is so tight it’s giving you a facelift.”

“Hands off!” I growl, pulling back defensively. He thinks he can give
me
fashion advice? He looks like a cartoon character. I resist the urge to kick his shins with my pointed pumps.

He drops his arm to his side, “Loosen up, girl. I’m just trying to help.”

“What do you know about women’s fashion? Look at
your
outfit! I didn’t realize sci-fi emo was still a
thing
,” I spit. “And what’s with that stupid monocle?”

With practiced flair, he flips the monocle up with a flick of his wrist and squinches it in his cheek. He stares at me through it, the monocled eye comically magnified. “Perhaps you need a personality makeover, darling,” he mutters before letting the monocle tumble free.

I’m about to give him a tongue lashing when I stop myself. I admit it. I’m very sensitive about my looks, my personality, everything. Let’s face it. I’m just plain sensitive. I blame four years of high school torment from Connor Hughes. That asshole left me scarred.

That’s when the hotel room door suddenly whips open and my chest locks down tight, stopping my breath.

It’s him.

Connor Hughes.

No. Fucking. Way.

<<<<<<<>>>>>>>

COVER MODEL

by Devon Hartford

READ THE REST NOW!!

OTHER BOOKS BY DEVON HARTFORD:

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Fearless (The Story of Samantha Smith #1)

Reckless (The Story of Samantha Smith #2)

Painless (The Story of Samantha Smith #3)

ROMANTIC NEW ADULT COMEDY

Cover Model

Stealing Chastity

ADULT ROMANCE

Broken Lion

Taking Back Beautiful

ROMANTIC HIGH SCHOOL COMEDY

Stepbrother Obsessed

BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE

ONE YEAR LOVE - Part One

ONE YEAR LOVE - Part Two

ONE YEAR LOVE - Part Three

ONE YEAR LOVE - Part Four

ONE YEAR LOVE - Collected Edition (Parts 1-4)

ROCKER ROMANCE

Victory RUN 1 (The Story of Victory Payne)

Victory RUN 2 (The Story of Victory Payne)

Victory RUN 3 (The Story of Victory Payne)

Victory RUN 1-2-3 (The Story of Victory Payne - Collecting Parts 1-2-3)

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A HUGE thanks to:

Jackie Barnett for her usual genius

Bethanie “The Typo Hammer” Melander for killing those typos

Her Highness Samantha Sheeley, Queen of All Typos and Ouster of Oopsies!

An even HUGER thanks to all my passionate and fantastic beta readers:
 

The REAL Julie England, Elizabeth Pawelczyk, Sandy England, Neicy Cassidy, Stephanie Svajgl, Michelle Crane, Maria Combee, Renee Julian, Mylinda Abraham-Powell, Always Handy Mandy Jamerson, Jordan Bault, Sarah Frost, Megan C Christmas, Tania Clark, Rosanne Triegaardt, and The Ever Special Mel Bushell for invaluable feedback and encouragement! You guys rock the typo sauce!

Jessie Duchannes for her awesome reviews and Sailor Moon.

Kelsey Burns for always backing my play.

Hayley Picknell for slick Brit Pimpin’ and awesome reviews everywhere!

Michele McKenzie for equally all-star pimpin’ and typo-snyping.

Amy Cossio for always rocking the Awesome Saucio.

And last but not least, for last minute typo-snyping of the highest order and in the face of great personal danger, I award a Typo Heart to
Colonel Melanie Starr
, the one and only
Comma Bomber
, who saved this mission from certain disaster at the 11th hour, but not without significant personal sacrifice on her part. Colonel, I salute you!

Thanks to everybody else who has helped make this book a reality!