In His Sleep
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
COPYRIGHT © 2012 by Jen Talty
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or Cool Gus Publishing except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. Contact Information:
[email protected]
.
Cover Art by JT Creations
Chapter One
Angie Thompson put on her best smile as she listened to the tenth model explain to her how fucking hot he was in his underwear. He even offered to strip down to his form-fitting briefs right there, in the middle of the Downtown Houston Hyatt lobby bar.
She raised her hand and placed her palm just above her right breast. She fanned her pinky across the top of her low cut tank top, letting the tip slip under the soft fabric, closer to her tightening nipple. She would have liked to see the young stud strip to his skivvies.
Well, strip to his glorious nakedness would be better. His jeans molded to his tight ass and thighs like butter melting over hot cinnamon buns fresh from the oven. He certainly had the right type of body, but the five-o’clock shadow, tanned skin with a few ‘rugged’ scars didn’t scream
I’m the boy next door, even in my underwear.
No. It screamed
I know how to show a girl a good time. A rockin’ good time
.
As much as she’d like to be taken for a ride, her first order of business was to find a decent replacement for Eddy, the fucking perfect moron. If he hadn’t gotten his face smashed, she wouldn’t be in this predicament. No. She’d be looking for a hot rod to ride, not a male model to shoot.
Big difference.
“Thanks, um, John. But you’re not what I’m looking for.” She handed his portfolio back to him. “I’m sorry, but thanks for coming.”
All she wanted was one normal looking male, early to mid-twenties, with a great body and the perfect face. Was that too much to ask for? Seemed it was in southeast Texas.
She had to be crazy to think she could find some stranger and make him a supermodel in one shooting. Besides, she’d had the perfect model in Eddy. His thick brown hair hung long enough to make him look dangerous, but short enough that any mother would trust him with her daughter. The man had muscle definition without looking like the incredible hulk. But an attitude that got him a broken nose and now she was left high and dry in Texas. Wonderful. Maybe she could postpone the shoot and still not get fired.
She sipped her soda and glanced around the bar. Every man in the place looked like a poster child for Accountants-R-Us. Well, that could be sexy. All she really needed was a guy who looked good naked. Well, nearly naked.
She stood and stepped onto the chair. “Can I have everyone’s attention, please?”
A few people turned and looked at her with narrowed eyes and puzzled expressions, but most people ignored her. Worse, not a single person she could see had the facial features she needed to make this ad work.
She took in a deep breath and smoothed out her jeans scanning the sea of men. Some weren’t all that boring. A few appeared as if they might even have a decent body underneath their clothing. “My name is Angie and I’m photographer. I’m looking for a man willing to pose in his underwear.”
The room went deadpan silent. All eyes on her. All mouths gapping open. Her nipples puckered, which probably wasn’t a good thing considering she was the center of attention. Not that she minded every male specimen staring at her, but as much as she needed to have a nice, large, throbbing cock between her legs, she needed to finish the ad first.
Find hot male model.
Take his picture.
Then find hot hard cock to fuck.
The key to her success--the model and the cock had to be two separate people. No way would she ever mix business with pleasure again.
“If I chose to shoot you,” she continued, “I’ll pick up your expenses at the hotel for one day, and if you end up as the model for the ad, you’ll get paid a hefty salary for your time.”
“I’ll do it,” some guy in the middle of the bar said. Face looked okay. Not too round, clean-shaven, soft-looking skin. Eyes, not so great. Kind of dull and boring, matching his boring grey suit, but she could shoot him with his eyes closed. Or maybe partially closed. That was always hot.
“I’ll need to see you in your underwear in order to decide if you’re right for the part.” She didn’t want to insult the guy, but naked model, he wasn’t.
Nor did she think she’d want to screw him either.
“That can be arranged, babe.” He waggled his hips around in a crude gesture. That pretty much sealed the deal.
On to the next guy.
“Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Knock it off, Bill,” a deep voice said from somewhere in the back of the bar.
The sound rumbled first in her ears, echoing in her mind, sending electric pulses down her neck, along her spine, all the way to the tips of her toes. She rose up on tiptoes to try to find the face that went with the voice.
“Just having fun, geez,” Bill said, tipping his beer in her direction.
Angie peered over an ocean of drunken bar bobble heads, but still couldn’t get a decent look at the man with the husky voice that churned her insides into one ripple of hot passion after the other. Too bad, although she couldn’t photograph a voice. “If anyone is really serious, just come and see me. I’ll be right here for a few hours.”
She stepped down, plopped herself back in her seat and waited while a few of the men eyed her with suspicion, but no one came over. She took the last swig of her soda, resolving herself to failure. And since she’d made an ass out of herself in front of these men, well, getting laid now seemed like a long shot.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the nicest ass she’d ever seen in grey slacks. Not the best color for a fine behind, but it didn’t matter if the face was just as sweet. Well, she’d lost all sense of shame at this point. She might as well go ask Mr. Buns-Of-Steel if he wanted to pose in his underwear.
She packed up her files, listening to the Charlie Brown chatter surrounding her. “Whah, whah, whah.”
“If you say so.”
Her heart rate exploded at the sound of the deep voice.
That voice.
She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes. A burst of heat pulsed between her legs. Her skin tingled, begging to feel the rumble of that voice against her puckered nipples. Keeping her eyes closed, she searched for the deep sound of the most intoxicating noise she’d ever heard.
She opened her eyes and took a step toward two men hovering near the entrance a few feet away. The man on the right had curly blond hair trimmed close to his head, but not so close as to lose the curls. She could only see half of his face, but she imagined dreamy almond-colored eyes hidden behind long lashes that fluttered in an intoxicating pattern.
As she approached, he turned slowly. The room suddenly dipped to the right, then to the left. She wondered if she’d be able to make the last few steps without her knees buckling. In order to stabilize herself, she grabbed his thick arm. “Oh, my.” She gave the solid mass of muscle a tight squeeze. That would photograph well.
The color of his irises certainly didn’t disappoint her as she stared into his warm welcoming gaze. She gripped his firm biceps and fought the strong urge to slid her hand to his tight ass and give it a good squeeze. Someone upstairs did like her after all.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Fine.” It was the voice. That glorious, incredible, sensual voice. That voice alone could make her come in three seconds flat. “Want to get naked for me?” She blinked. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right.” Normally, beautiful men didn’t tie her tongue up in knots. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to take this man’s picture or fuck him.
Or both.
No. She’d learned her lesson. Never date a guy better looking than yourself and this man surpassed her looks by a mile and a half. Besides, she had to stick to the program. Pictures. Then fucking. Had to be that order, or she’d be screwed, and not in a good way. No, that would be bad. Very bad.
Besides, if he was going to be her model, well, she never, ever, fucked the models. Not anymore. “My name is Angie, and I’m looking for someone to model their underwear for me.”
“So I heard.” He didn’t smile, not even a little. Bastard didn’t even look her over. Just stood there with a blank expression. “I’m flattered, but I don’t think so.”
“It’s a paying gig and includes expenses.” She took a step back and gave him a good once over with her eyes, then ran her hand down his arm. His muscles twitched under her touch, but he didn’t flinch, not even when she slide her hand across his firm belly. Her thumb brushed the top of his belt buckle before she made her way towards his ass.
This wasn’t the way she normally treated her models, but the gray slacks, while not stylish, etched his body like a fine sculpture.
“Um, do you mind?”
“Sorry. Job hazard.” She placed her hand over her stomach in an attempt to calm herself, but all it did was generate more heat, sending it directly to her moist panties.
“Right,” he said.
Her chest rose up and down with every labored breath she took. Her hard nipples begged for him to drop his gaze and take notice, but he didn’t and that exited her even more. “You’re very attractive,” she said. Although, attractive wasn’t quite the right word to describe this fine specimen of flesh.
Fuckable would be a better word.
Of course, there was always suckable. Her second favorite pastime.
“You make this boring suit look fabulous,” she said. “It hangs on you very nicely. Not too tight, but with the outline your firm body leaving just enough to the imagination.”
“Thanks. I think.”
She continued to shamelessly treat him like the eye candy he was. He had thick thighs. And she knew, even though she couldn’t see, that he had tight, hard, round nipples. Her fingers itched to rip open his shirt and suck one of them into her mouth. She bet he had just a few chest hairs perfectly placed between two perfect pecs. “Have you ever done any modeling?”
“What?” He shoved his hands in his slacks, pushing back his matching sport coat.
Her eyes dropped to his zipper. Immediately she imagined herself down on her knees, lowering that zipper with her teeth as hard cock pushed against the fabric of his pants.
“Hello. Up here,” he said as he smiled and nodded politely at a few people who passed by. “I’m not a model.”
“Oh, but I bet the camera would love you.” He was tall, but probably not over six feet. His skin appeared flawless. At least what she could see of it. “I’d really love to get you out of these clothes and get a better look at you.” She reached up and palmed his cheek. His skin was actually softer than it appeared. And warm. Hot.
