Shut Up and Model for Me (3 page)

Good to know that I can actually turn a guy on in person. A little affirmation here and there can’t hurt a girl.

“Quite flirting with the model,
Rylan
, and hurry up,” Britain drawls.

I quickly smear the rest of the chocolate over Adam’s torso and back as he douses his legs in chocolate, and then he climbs onto the bed with Delilah.

“What are they going to do now?” I mutter to Britain.

“Lick it off each other—what do you think?” she responds with indifference as she readies her camera.

I think it’s a bit corny, but I don’t say anything. Instead, I sit in the corner of the room and wait for Britain to get the lighting around the white-washed room just right.

“I’m going to try this shoot with a bunch of different aperture settings, so we might be here for a bit. You two okay with that?”

Delilah bites back her grin as Adam pulls her toward him. Instantly, I am no longer the focus, and Delilah is the new lust-object. God, men are so predictable.

“Absolutely,” Adam says.

Britain instruct a whole lot like she usually does with the solo shoots. I guess the pheromones are doing a well-enough job. Adam forcefully pushes Delilah back onto the bed, dips his head, and licks up the middle of her chest, right between her chocolate-covered breasts. Delilah’s plump lips part as she gasps and writhes on the comforter.

Stealthily, Britain grips a canopy pole for support and hops onto the footboard of the bed, shooting away. She’s good at these balancing acts. “Great. Keep it steamy, guys.”

That’s all she says. She doesn’t instruct Adam to lick up Delilah’s neck or for Delilah to look more invested in what he’s doing to her. They’re perfect.

Adam murmurs something to Delilah, and she giggles and nods. Adam trails his chocolate fingers up the inside of her bare thigh. He lowers his head to her breast and covers her nipple with his mouth. Delilah whimpers and raises her hands above her head, giving him full access.

Heat floods the apex of my thighs. Damn, this is hot.

I keep telling myself that I can make it through my PhD without dating or hooking up, but watching them reminds me that it’s been a whole year since a guy touched
me
like that. I cross my legs, imagining how it must feel for Delilah right now—Adam’s tongue flicking against her nipple, the pad of his thumb moving over her thong and rubbing against her covered slit.

“Don’t let him dominate you, Delilah. Do something about it.”

Adam lets Delilah flip him so that she straddles him. Britain hops down from her spot and gets in close as she can, shooting their bodies pressed together, Delilah’s tongue running along the cusp of Adam’s ear.

I keep my legs pinned together, my breath even, my teeth gritted.

I’ve never been so envious of someone and yet so thankful that I wasn’t them at the same time.

Dallas

I’m not sure what I was expecting the EPE headquarters to looks like. Hell, these shoots nearly border on porn. I mean, classy porn to say the least. Artistic porn. But I’m broke and this is what it has come to. I guess I was expecting a dump in the inner-city part of town, but that’s not where my GPS brought me. I park outside of a large home on the outskirts of the suburbs. Nothing surrounds this house other than a cal-de-sac and some open fields.

The house is in nice condition too. And it’s huge—like a middle-class,
Desperate Housewives
version of the Playboy Mansion.

Before I get out of the car, I look down at myself. I’m kind of dressed like a prick. I’ve just come from student teaching and my shirt is buttoned up to my collar and tucked into my slacks. I pull out my shirt and undo my tie, unbutton a few buttons, and take in a deep breath.

Why the hell am I so nervous? I mean, it’s not a big deal if I don’t get the job. It might be for the better. Applying was a stupid idea in the first place, even if Tricia’s right about it giving me a leg up in the industry. And what about respect from undergrads? The last thing I need is a bunch of freshman fuck-heads who think they can mess with me because they’ve seen me naked.

Mostly naked.

EPE is good at avoiding crotch shots. But still. This was a mistake.

Right when I’m about to start the engine back up, a cute blonde wearing glasses bounces out of the front door of the house. She spots me, waves, and runs over. She’s dressed in a tank top and cut-off shorts.

Normal enough.

She leans into my open window, holding out her hand. “You must be Dallas,” she says. “Well, obviously you’re Dallas. I’ve seen your photo. I’m Britain.”

This
is Britain? I thought Britain was a pseudonym for an old creepy forty-year-old man with a pot belly. But this girl looks like your average college student. Naturally pretty, but a bit too nerdy to be in a sorority. Kind of plain. Not like she’d be into taking pictures of naked people.

“Err… hi,” I say. I pull my keys out of the ignition and step out of the car.

“Come on in. It’s okay, you look kind of scared.” She grins. “I hope you didn’t dress up for us.”

I tug on my collar. “I student teach.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

“That’s right?”

“Uhh… yeah. I mean, I had to do my research. Umm… one of my friends is in your bio class.” She looks away from me and heads toward the door.

Great
.

I follow her up the steps and into the house. The main room is vaulted and big, but classy. Much classier than I expected. It almost looks like a nice, middle-class family could live here. I mean, other than the framed posters of the half or mostly naked EPE models on the walls. I recognize all of them. I’m not an avid reader or anything. Tricia looks through my issues more than I do. But I’m a subscriber. Who on the East Park campus isn’t? We have the most successful independent erotic magazine out of any campus in the country.

Everyone’s going to be looking at pictures of me now.

I’ve done underwear modeling.
It’s the same thing.

A girl stands in the corner of the room, crossing her arms. In the frame behind her is the promotional poster of her, like she planned it.

Rylan Willow. Holy shit, it’s Rylan Willow.

She looks much happier in her promo poster—and wearing a lot less—but it’s definitely her. Even though I’m not what you’d call EPE’s biggest fan, I never skip the Rylan spreads. And now she’s standing before me, arms crossed tight against her tits so her cleavage spills perfectly over that… one-piece thing. Whatever the hell she’s wearing that looks damn good on her.

Maybe the exposure of this job will be worth it if I can shoot with her.

No. I can’t think like that. Not when Tricia’s trusting me so much with this.

Why the fuck does Rylan look so pissed at me?

“Dallas, this is one of our primary models, Rylan Willow.”

“I—am aware of that.”
I’m aware of that? Knock off the professor façade—you fucking idiot.
I hold out my hand but she doesn’t take it, so I shove it into my pocket. “Nice to meet you, Rylan.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Pleasure,” she drawls. She could’ve fooled me.

Britain leads me to the couch and lays all of the typical interview questions on me—how long I’ve been modelling for, what my favorite gig has been thus far, and what I do when I’m not in school or not modeling. She thinks it’s funny that it was Trisha’s idea to audition for EPE.

I catch myself glancing at Rylan, who has pulled a weird green drink from the kitchen fridge and is sipping it by the island, watching us.

“So, since you’ve informed me that you have a girlfriend, this might be a problem in terms of how far you’re willing to go in the shoots. I mean, I try—to the best of my ability—to stay classy enough to call this art, but you’ll still have to get intimate with the models.

Rylan sighs from the counter.

“I don’t have a problem with that.” When Britain raises her eyebrow skeptically, I add, “Really. The only thing I won’t be able to do is cock shots.”

Britain busts up laughing. “Okay. No cock shots. I can swing that.”

“No, seriously. Undergrads are going to see enough of me in this magazine as it is. I’m done with my teaching hours now—today was my last day—”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you. But they’re still going to remember me.”

“Sounds like this one’s prone to humiliation,” says Rylan. “I don’t think he has the guts to take on the job, to be honest.”

What’s this chick’s deal?

“Don’t mind her.” Britain winks. “She’s just mad because you’re a part of her—”

“Brit! Shut the fuck up!”

Britain sighs. “We’ll let the camera decide how humiliated you are, shall we?” She glances at a closed door at the other end of the living room. “All we need now is the damn modelette.”

“Excuse me?”

“Delilah is the one you’ll be shooting with for the test. We’re only attempting the male additions with her at first until we see the response.”

Delilah—that would make sense. She’s the edgiest model, from what I can remember.

“But we just finished a shoot where she was covered in chocolate syrup, and I guess she needs a few hours to recover with a shower and hair and makeup. God, I didn’t think it would take this long. You don’t have anywhere to be, do you?”

I shake my head at the same time another male model walks into the room from down the hall. He wears nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Nodding at me, he says, “’Sup, Bro.”

“Uhh… ‘Sup.”

“This is Adam, our first hired male model. Adam, where’s Delilah?”

Adam shrugs. “Last I saw her, she was just getting out of the shower.”

Britain sighs. “Great. Well, I don’t have all day. And I’m sure you don’t have all day.”

“I’m… really, I’m fine.”

“Hey Rylan, You’re up.”

I turn to look at Rylan. Her eyes are bugging out of her head as she clutches her empty glass in front of her. A look of horror.

So the hottest model of EPE hates me for no reason. I’m off to a good start.

Chapter Three

Evan

“
Hell
no!” I practically scream.

There is no fucking way I’m going to do those things Delilah and Adam just did with a guy from my department. Does Britain want me to
fail
college? God, and he’s so gorgeous too.

This is bad. Dallas is just one big awful distraction that needs to go.

“I can tell I’m wanted here,” Dallas says dryly. Britain shoots me a look of contempt.

“No, Dallas, it’s not that I don’t like you,” I try to counter quickly. “It’s just… you know, I have an image to uphold. An untouched, virginal image, apparently, and Britain and I specifically decided there’d be no boys in my photo shoots.”

“Well if that’s your problem.” Britain hops up from the couch. “I never said I’d be using these photos in the magazine, did I?” She grins. “This is just a test.”

I hate my best friend sometimes. I open my mouth, but unless I tell Dallas that I’m in his department, I have no argument.

“Go change into what you are wearing for your shoot today,
please
,” Britain orders.

“Yes, your majesty,” I say through gritted teeth, and stomp off toward the makeup room. I hate her I hate her
I hate her
…

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Nora asks as I walk into the dressing room. When I don’t respond, she says, “Can I do anything to help?”

“Kill me?”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but I do have some fake blood in my kit somewhere.”

Maybe that would do. I could cover myself in fake blood and then Britain would have to send
me
to the showers. I get a hold of myself and simply thank Nora for her efforts, changing into what’s laid out for me—A white lace bandeau bra and panties, and a blush pink sundress. Little Rylan, innocent as ever. I dress and examine myself in the mirror. With my hair this big, I look like a brunette Barbie doll.

I gag at myself in the mirror and head out toward the pool.

Dallas is in nothing but a pair of white gauze pants, gazing around. “This place is damn nice. You rent the whole house just for shooting?”

“We live here too,” Britain says. I shoot her a glare. Next she’ll tell him what my real name is, for the love of God.

“Who takes care of the pool?”

“The pool guy.”

“Yes, the pool guy, like normal houses,” I say, interrupting their chit chat. “Can we get this over with already?”

“Alright, Miss Bossy Pants.” Britain readies her camera. Pointing to one of the white-washed walnut lounge chairs, she says, “Dallas, go sit over there.”

He does as he’s told, lounging back. His skin barely glistens, capturing the light from the sun.

“Now straddle the chair. Rylan, go sit in front of him.”

I slowly walk across the smooth stone surrounding the clean water, toward Dallas. His piercing blue eyes are on me the whole time—relaxed. Maybe even a bit excited.

I think I’m going to throw up. Get a hold of yourself, Evan.

I swing my leg over the chair, sitting in front of him so that I too am facing the water.

Britain walks over to us and squats in front of her chair, bringing the camera up to her face. “Scoot together.”

We do so until his hard torso presses against my back. His breath tickles my ear as he says, “This is kind of awkward for a first meeting, isn’t it?”

I bite back my grin. Cute and charming. Fuck me, I am never going to be able to stop thinking about these next moments.

But this will be it. I’ll get this test shoot out of the way and then I won’t have to shoot with Dallas again. That will be Delilah’s job. I couple minutes with Dallas is all I have. Maybe I should just loosen up and enjoy the only male contact I’ve had in a year, and probably all I’ll have until I finish my PhD.

“Scenario,” Britain begins. “Rylan, I want you to keep up that virginal persona of yours. This is the first time you’ve ever been touched by a boy. Shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

“Fuck you,” I snap before realizing that Dallas is going to find this work environment incredibly hostile if I don’t keep my mouth under control. Luckily for me, he reacts by giving a deep and throaty chuckle. My heart begins to hammer in my chest.