Series: Models On Top
on April 12, 2016
Genres: Contemporary Romance
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From New York Times Bestselling Author, S. L. Scott, comes this new series. Each book can be read as a standalone.
Everything you’ve heard about modeling is true, and you haven’t heard the half of it.
And yes, the line between work and reality often blurs.
We’re not just prototypes of perfection. Models have feelings and desires, too. We may be genetically gifted, but we’re still human.
I’m only human. Yes, an extraordinary specimen that earns more in a day than most make in a year, but this eight pack didn’t create itself. I spend hours working on this body. The good looks just come natural. *Winks* Thanks, Mom and Dad.
I’m Danny Weston, Supermodel.
But one path was traded for another when I chose this career. Ten years later, I would trade my career to have it back. To have her back.
Reese Carmichael is the one woman I would give it all up for, and the only one I can’t have. Yet.
As if reading my mind, she says, “I want to have sex, and I want you to make me forget about tonight. I want to be blissfully unaware of everything, except for right now, here with you.”
I’m already smirking. How can I not when I have temptation in its truest form begging me to fuck her? It’s a hard job… like rock-hard, but I can handle it.
“Sit up here.” I lift her up and place her on the counter. “I’ll be right back. Be ready for me.”
After turning off the water, I slip out and go for a condom from my suitcase. When I return, she has her arms wrapped around her legs, giving me a peek of her sexy pussy. “Open for me.”
She spreads her legs and waits for further instruction. “Put your hands behind you.” She does. After stroking myself while eyeing her incredible tits, I rip open the package and put the condom on.
Her back is curved, pushing them forward, and I run my hand over her sensitive nipples. “You know how sexy you are?”
“No,” she says, the reply jagged. “Tell me.”
“I’ll show you, but brace yourself.” Just as she firms her palms against the counter, I slam forward, holding her by her hips as I thrust in and out several times, hard and fast.
Her warmth draws my eyes to close, the fuse inside sparking to life. I won’t last, not with her, not like this. I’m getting close to release when she says, “Stop. Danny, stop.”
My whole body is alert to the sound of her voice and I stop. Worried, I back up but keep my hands on her. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
Each breath sends her chest rising and falling to a rapid beating heart. “No, this feels good. It’s too much and not enough.” Her hands cover her tits, teasing herself and me. “I want to see you. I need to see your eyes on me, on mine.”
Her pleasure is mine. Touching her cheek, I let my hand drift down and I smile. “I want to watch you come.” My fingers slip between her legs and I find that spot that makes her purr. “Keep your eyes on mine.”
She looks up, pupils wide as she takes me in. Her hands are holding me to the spot, her back to the mirror. I build her up again, tightening the coil that I want to watch unravel. I run my thumb over her bottom lip, wetting it. Then I kiss her as small circles increase in intensity and her moans are swallowed. When she starts holding on to me, I lean back and our eyes meet again—passion, addiction, obsession reside in the clarity of her deep blues and I don’t want her just to physically feel how strongly I feel for her, but to see it. “I’ve always loved you.”
The back of her head hits the mirror, her eyes close, and her mouth opens. “Oh God, Danny.” She shivers as the force of ecstasy takes over her body.
“Look at me, baby.”
I can see her struggle, but when her eyes open and meet mine, I don’t relent until I see her body coming down.
Sitting upright, she kisses my neck and whispers, “I want you inside me.”