His

by 12 Author Anthology

  “Is that the guy?” Mable pushed her sunglasses down her nose and peered over the frames. “That’s the annoying guy? He’s hot! What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Chloe rolled her eyes. Of course the guy’s level of hotness would be Mable’s main focus. “Oh, he’s good looking, but he’s one of those sales guys. You know, the ones you can’t trust farther than you can throw them.” That was one small blessing she could see in being laid off: she wouldn’t have to see Arien Stone anymore, or have to invent reasons why she couldn’t meet him to talk about her “modeling career”. For one, she didn’t have a modeling career. She was a third year college student working as a barista for God’s sakes.

  Arien suddenly turned in their direction, and Chloe threw her hand up quickly, trying to avoid his seeing her as she suddenly had something very important to fix with her hair.

  “Ooh, he’s coming this way. If you don’t want to hop on that train, I hope you don’t mind if I do.” Mable smoothed down her shirt and leaned against the back of the bench. Playing it casual, as was her way.

  “Have at it,” Chloe said, abandoning her failed attempt at remaining hidden.

  “Chloe.” Arien’s smooth voice reached her as he strolled up to their bench. “Is it true that our little coffee joint is closed for good?”

  “Yep.” She took a swig of her macchiato.

  “What will you do for work now?”

  She shrugged. “I haven’t thought much of it yet. You know, my schedule is pretty busy as it is.”

  He looked unconvinced, but quickly cast a glance at Mable. “I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself. I’m Arien Stone.”

  Mable practically tittered, holding a hand out for him to shake. “Mable Sorenson. I’m Chloe’s best friend.”

  He smiled and shook her hand as that pushy sales guy expression came over his face. “Ah, well, maybe you can help me convince Chloe here to give modeling a try.” He extracted two business cards from his jacket pocket and handed one to each of them. Chloe eyed the card as Arien went into his usual jargon about this and that, and why Chloe would make such a fantastic addition to their agency. Blah, blah, blah.

  Completely convinced by his speech, Mable turned toward her with an excited glow. “You should totally do it, girl. I can see it now. You could be plastered all over the side of a bus.”

  “That sounds pleasant.” Chloe squished her nose at the visual.

  Mable flapped her hands quickly. “You know what I mean. You could be on, like, magazines and billboards, and—”

  “Romance novels,” Arien added with a quick flick of his gaze at the one on Mable’s lap.

  “Romance novels. Oh, my little Clo Clo could be the heroine on the front of a romance novel!”

  Chloe shook her head at her best friend, wishing that she hadn’t been here to gang up on her after all. She’d asked her here to hang out and lick her wounds, not push her into posing for cameras. With the way Arien and Mable were staring at her, she wondered just how she was going to talk herself out of it this time.

  ****

  The building didn’t look all that menacing; certainly nothing like she’d expected. The company’s name, Angels Incorporated, was scrawled in white, fancy lettering at the top of the beige building, with matching vinyl on the glass doors. The name itself wasn’t intimidating; it was the knowledge of what they did inside that made her nervous. By some miracle, she’d made it through the glass doors before panic took her again.

  The secretary glanced up at her with an overly delighted grin on her face, her perfect gleaming white teeth almost blinding under the fluorescent lights above her desk. Chloe neared her, wondering why she hadn’t put more thought into her own hair, and realizing that she recognized the woman from around campus. She might have even shared a class with her.

  “Hi, I’m here to meet with Arien Stone,” Chloe said, trying to sound much more sure than she felt. She couldn’t believe she actually resorted to coming.

  The woman gave her a friendly smile before her manicured nails clacked on the keyboard. “And your name?”

  “Chloe Terranson.”

  “Oh, that’s right! We have English together or something.”

  “Oh yeah,” Chloe said with a nod. “I knew you looked really familiar.”

  She opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a man’s voice. “So this is the long-awaited Chloe I’ve heard so much about.”

  She whirled toward the right as the receptionist jumped to her feet and smoothed her tight shirt and short skirt. That was all she’d noted of the woman’s ministrations, however, as her gaze landed on the man who had just entered through a door located at the side of the front desk. He certainly took up space with his towering height and wide shoulders. And yet somehow, despite his bulk, he didn’t appear overweight in the slightest. No, he was indescribably perfect, especially the way his shoulders and arms tapered down to a thin waist. He was stunning, with shiny, wavy, brown hair that looked like he’d just come from the salon. His jaw was lightly dusted with stubble, and she immediately found herself locking on the most lustrous lips she’d ever seen on a man. And those eyes, good God, they were piercing as they collided with her own. Though he appeared to be in his early- to mid-thirties, she couldn’t discount his level of attractiveness. He was smoking hot, especially in comparison to the grungy college boys she was accustomed to seeing day-in and day-out.

  “Mr. Thane,” the reception sputtered, “is there anything I can get you—”

  “Relax, Becca. I just came out to see if our guest had arrived.”

  The receptionist noticeably blushed and twirled a finger at the end of her hair. “She’s just here to meet with Mr. Stone.”

  “I’m afraid I sent him on some errands,” Mr. Thane said, turning toward Chloe. “I would be happy to show you around though, Miss Terranson, and answer any questions you might have.”

  “I don’t want to be a bother.” She shook her head. This seemed the perfect way to get out of it. She’d come. She’d tried. Now she could go back to her normal life and look for a normal job and never even think about earning a quick buck by posing for some pics.

  “Trust me, you’re not one. Come on back.” He gestured toward the door he’d just come through with a tilt of his chin, and turned away.

  She couldn’t help but admire him from behind, wondering exactly how one person could be made so perfectly.

  After they walked through the door, Mr. Thane led her down a long hallway, pointing at different doors and explaining what happened in each area of the building. As hard as she tried to pay attention, Chloe couldn’t get over the nervousness she felt at even showing up today. She shouldn’t have resorted to this, but she only had three hundred dollars left in her checking account.

  “...and this is the talent wall.”

  They had entered an office, and were now facing a wall with dozens of framed photos of models—some were headshots, and in others, the models posed in numerous positions and scenes. As she glanced over them, she noticed that many of the photos were of the same models, only with different hairstyles and colors, varying degrees and types of clothing, and even some with partners.

  “That’s clever,” she said, pointing to the four photos of men with pure white wings. Those especially intrigued her, and she thought of the dream she’d had last night.

  Shutting down that train of thought, she focused on the wall again. Every single model on the wall was attractive, so much so that the pictures confirmed what she’d feared: she wasn’t pretty enough.

  “Thanks. We thought it was fitting to have some pictures of angels.” Mr. Thane smiled. “This is generally how we come up with who would look great posing together. We have a similar setup on our site so clients can pair men and women, or whatever arrangement they need, so they can request a photo shoot with specific models.”

  Not counting the angel picture, Chloe spotted three other photos of Mr. Thane on the wall, and flicked her gaze at him. As she did, she
saw that he was staring at her, and she hastily refocused on the wall so she wouldn’t blush under his stare.

  “Why are there so few models on the wall?” she asked. “I mean, no disrespect, but why aren’t there more models?”

  He clasped his hands behind his back and eyed the photos thoughtfully. “We like to pride ourselves in the best of the best. We’ve had other models in the past, but found that their prints were never ordered from clients, nor were they requested in photo shoots.” He looked at her with a shrug. “So we canceled our contracts with them.”

  Her heart sank at his words. If they hadn’t kept actual models around, what chance did she have at scoring a job?

  “Has anyone told you that your thoughts are clear on your face?”

  She blinked. “I’m sorry?”

  Mr. Thane laughed and turned toward her. “I could see that what I said bothered you.”

  Chloe cleared her throat, hoping the blush she felt on her face wasn’t visible. “No, it’s just that Mr. Stone made it sound like you were looking for new models. That’s why I’m here.”

  “And I’m glad you’re here,” he replied, surprising her. His voice dropped low as he stepped closer to her. “I can see what Arien sees in you.”

  Her face flamed and she looked down at the floor before peering up at him from under her lashes. “So you...uh...you think I have what it takes?”

  He smiled, his white teeth making an appearance again. “Why don’t we find out?” He turned then and bent behind the desk she’d barely even noticed before, and withdrew papers as her gaze landed on the name plate that sat atop it.

  Malcolm Thane, CEO

  “Oh my gosh,” she said, her face flaming from mortification. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re the CEO?”

  “It didn’t seem important.”

  She backed toward the door. “Really, I didn’t mean to waste your time. I’m so sorry. I should have just waited for Arien...”

  “Miss Terranson...”

  “I mean, Mr. Stone...”

  “Miss Terranson...”

  “I probably just shouldn’t have come at all, I—”

  “Chloe!”

  Chloe shut her mouth at the sound of his booming voice. She hadn’t noticed that he’d already rounded the desk and now stood a mere foot from her.

  “Not only do I think that you’re more than qualified to model for us, but you are also not wasting my time.” He eyed her speculatively, and she took a half-step back as she realized just how close they were to each other. “Tell you what, why don’t we go out for lunch? We can go over the details of the contract, and you can decide if you’d like to become a part of our team.”

  She blinked up at him as a swell of excitement fluttered through her. She trampled it down though, realizing that a business lunch was probably standard procedure for Malcolm Thane.

  “You’re hungry, aren’t you?” he added.

  “Uh, yeah.” She shrugged. “I could eat.”

  “Great.” He smiled and tossed his keys in the air before snatching them again. “Let’s take my car.”

  ****

  Malcolm shifted down and pushed the pedal to the metal as Chloe lifted her arms in the air, smiling at the blue sky above as her hair flew in a crazy whirlwind. She’d been on edge earlier, but a fast ride in his Supersport with the top down had evidently put her at ease.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “One of my favorite restaurants. The family that owns it is really nice.” He’d never taken anyone to his favorite little Italian joint, but there was something special about the woman beside him. Possibly the very thing Arien had thought he’d sensed in her.

  Technically speaking, they’d be talking business while inside the restaurant, but if luck was with him, they’d be taking things a lot further. He’d had a fucking erection since the moment he’d laid his eyes on the devastatingly beautiful woman next to him, with her full head of thick, curly brown hair that reached the middle of her back, and the bright blue eyes and perky lips that left him fantasizing about her lips around his cock as she peered up at him.

  His jeans got tighter at the mere thought, and he shifted in his seat, grateful that she hadn’t appeared to notice. If he was any kind of judge of women—and he was—Chloe Terranson wasn’t a woman who slept around. She could even be a virgin if that innocence she seemed to exude was any indication.

  And didn’t that just excite him more? And for more than one reason.

  He pulled into the small parking lot at the side of Sorella Italiano and parked his car. Chloe moved to open her door, and he halted her by clearing his throat. “I’ll get that.” He quickly slid out of his car and shot around to open her door, holding his hand out to grip hers.

  Once inside the restaurant, and seated at his table in the back corner, he watched Chloe as she fiddled with her menu. He couldn’t help but watch every flick of her thumb along the edge as she read the menu’s options.

  “You’re getting nervous again,” he said as she worried her bottom lip.

  Chloe looked startled, and peered at him from over the top of her menu.

  She started to stammer some sort of response, but Malcolm leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table and clasping his fingers. “Why are you so nervous?”

  “It’s just weird, ya know? I mean, the president of a company asks me out to dinner and takes me for a drive in what has to be the most expensive car I’ve ever even seen, and then when we get here, it turns out to be a quiet little restaurant that seems a bit more romantic than business would call for. Am I right?”

  He inclined his head. Jesus Christ, brains and beauty? Could she be more perfect? “You would be right.”

  Again she seemed shocked and blinked quietly before saying, “Why bring me to a romantic restaurant?”

  “Maybe because I have more interest in you than just business.”

  Chloe blushed, and the waitress chose that second to walk up with a basket of bread in hand. She quickly took their orders and bustled off to the kitchen. Chloe had stared at the table nearly the entire time, but finally slid her gaze toward him. “Would you excuse me for a second?”

  “Sure.” Malcolm grinned, and she shot out of her chair and disappeared through the door of the ladies restroom. He clenched his hands as he leaned on the table. If all went as he hoped, he’d learn within the next few hours if Chloe was what he’d been searching for.

  ****

  “What do you mean ‘go for it’?” Chloe hissed into the phone as another woman waltzed into the bathroom and skittered into a stall. “I just met him.”

  “Oh, please. You remember that conversation we had, what was it, three days ago, about how you need to let loose a little? Well, there’s your ‘loose’. For hell’s sakes, go nail the guy.”

  Chloe pursed her lips. Mable always did have a way of shooting it straight. “I can’t just go have sex with him.”

  “Why not, is there something wrong with him?”

  “No. Not at all. He’s pretty perfect, actually.”

  “Well then have at it, dummy. Do I need to come down there and see him for myself? Because if I have to—”

  “No! Don’t, seriously. Just don’t, okay?” she stammered. “It’s just…can I really do this?”

  “Give it up? Hell yes you can! You’re a twenty-one year old hottie holding on to your virginity like a hobo with his shopping cart and tinfoil hat. Go get some!” When Chloe had no response, Mable added. “And you damn well better fill me in on the details, let’s say…tomorrow morning? That should give you two lovebirds enough time.”

  “Oh jeez. What if nothing happens?” Chloe had thought she was ready to “give it up” numerous times, but every time she was about to get into it with a guy, her entire body just seized up and she’d left like a bat out of hell.

  “What if nothing happens?” Mable stammered like that was an impossibility. “Don’t you dare muff this up, Terranson. If he flirts, flirt back. If he makes eye contact
, you hold it and bat those sexy eyelashes of yours. If he touches you, touch him back for godsakes. If this guy is as hot as you told me, then just go with it.”

  “Alright, alright, alright,” Chloe said, holding a hand up even though her friend couldn’t see it through the phone. “Just, can you tell me again…I mean, how nice is it?” The last part she’d barely been able to speak more than a whisper. She’d had nice before: kissing, groping, dry-humping, but whenever there was any type of penetration, her body just shut down and pain replaced pleasure. How could she tell Mable that what she felt for Malcolm was more than just attraction? There was a bone-deep connection there that she was terrified of screwing up.

  “It’s more than nice. Once you’ve done it, it’s hard to live without.”

  The toilet in the stall flushed then, and the blonde woman stepped out, heading straight for the sink. “Not that I meant to eavesdrop or anything, but if you’re talking about how nice fucking that guy out there would be, then I’ll tell you right now that he’s only got eyes for you. He’s been in here so many times, and he has never even looked at another woman the way he’s looked at you. I say go for it, girl.”

  “I’m with snoopy bathroom chick,” Mable chimed in. “Go get some and call me in the morning.”

  The line went dead, and Chloe nodded at the snoopy bathroom chick before she turned on her heels and walked out the door, determined to at least make an attempt. She reached the table, grinning at him as he polished off a slice of bread, and he returned it with a smile of his own.

  “I trust everything went well in there.”

  “As good as could be expected.” She took her seat and placed her napkin in her lap, twisting it back and forth.

  “You’re doing it again. Mind telling me what had you blushing just then?”

  Oh, God...

  “No pressure,” he added, as though he’d been able to pick up on her distress. Was she really that readable?

  “Mr. Thane, I’m—”

  “Call me Malcolm.”