Cover Model

by Devon Hartford

  “I can think of a place.” I slap her on the ass and she jumps.

  “I bet you can.” She tosses her hair, which is down for once, and gives me this sex kitten look over her shoulder as we walk.

  The red fuck-me sundress she’s wearing is killing me. I was starting to think she didn’t own anything other than tight skirts and blouses—not that that’s a bad thing—and she surprises me this afternoon wearing this thing. It barely covers her ass when she walks. Her auburn hair flows over her shoulders like a mahogany breeze. The brown cowboy boots add up to her being so ridiculously hot every guy on the sidewalk is turning heads to stare at her. She has no idea how fine she is. But I do. She looks like a fuckin supermodel. Knowing she’s got no panties on under the dress makes her illegally hot. I keep waiting for the dress to catch air so I can see the crack of her impossibly tight ass. My nuts tighten at the thought.

  Fuck, I’m hard again. I need to be inside her sometime in the next ten minutes or my balls are going to explode.

  I don’t know what it is about Lex, but she’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever met. It’s not just her looks. The way she slapped Gloria the other day? I smile every time I think about it. I don’t give a fuck that Gloria tore up my contract with her. I needed a reason to move on anyway. She definitely did a lot for my career, and the sex was good in the beginning. But she became such a pain in my ass, not even her cutthroat agenting was worth the bullshit she put me through. And now that my face is out there, who knows? Maybe I’ll get high profile work. I don’t care either way. Right now I’m happy hangin with Lex. She’s all I need. I fuckin hope she feels the same way, but I doubt it. She’s going to get bored of me sooner or later. At the end of the day, I’m just a fuckin brainless model. She’s the one with a good head on her shoulders.

  “What’s on your mind?” She asks as we walk up a side street to where her car is parked.

  “Nothin.” I grin at her. I don’t know how to talk about this kind of shit. Relationship shit. I’ve never talked to any women about anything except how I’m going to fuck them. Speaking of which, the way her red sundress is bouncing around her ass pulls my thoughts right back to what I’m gonna do to it the second I get my hands on her. “I’m gonna fuck you in that dress.”

  “Who says I’m going to let you?” She winks at me, her hair flying everywhere.

  Kill me now. I’m already in heaven looking at her.

  When we get to where her Honda is parked on a neighborhood side street, I push her up against the driver’s side door, her ass facing me, and pin her there with my crotch. I don’t waste any time hooking my hand under that red fuckin dress so I can feel the heat of her pussy. It practically burns my fingers, it’s so god damn hot and wet. “You want me to fuck you right here, don’t you? You want me to peel this dress over your ass and stick my dick in you and fuck the shit out of you while the whole neighborhood watches and hears you moan, don’t you?”

  “You’re crazy, Connor,” she moans, pushing her ass against my dick.

  I almost fuckin come right then. But I don’t because a mom in jogging clothes following a boy and a girl on bikes with training wheels and those cute little helmets and all the pink and blue bike gear come pedaling by. The two kids stop and stare at us, their feet on the ground and their hands on the handlebars.

  I hide my hands behind my back like a guilty fuck.

  Lex shoves her dress down.

  The mom scowls at us.

  All curious, the little girl says, “Mommy, what are they doing?”

  The boy just fuckin stares at Lex. I can’t blame him.

  Good thing Lex’s Honda is between us and them.

  “Don’t pay any attention to them, you two,” the mom growls, hustling the kids along.

  I call out, “Her door was stuck. I was helping her unlock it.” I feel like a fuckin tool. The second after the kids pass by, I whisper in Lex’s ear, “Gimme your keys.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m taking you home. We need to get there before my balls blow, so I’m driving.”

  “No you’re not,” she scoffs. “I’m driving. You probably can’t see straight without any blood in your brain.”

  I chuckle, “Didn’t anyone ever tell you I’m the one who calls the shots?”

  “Didn’t anyone ever tell you your dick isn’t a magic wand that can make women do anything you want?” She winks at me, jingling her car keys in front of me.

  I laugh and she laughs with me.

  She pins me with her eyes. Magic eyes. Eyes that do shit to me that makes me really fuckin uncomfortable. Eyes that make me forget how totally fuckable she is and think only about how much I… “Fuck, Lex. I—” I can’t say it. I can’t tell her how I feel.

  “What?”

  I close my eyes hard. “Nothin.”

  “What, Connor?”

  “Never mind. Let’s just go.” I gently take her car keys from her hand and unlock her door. “Get in. You can drive.”

  She climbs in the car and I close the door and hand her the keys and walk around to the passenger side. She leans over and opens the door for me and I drop into the seat. “What was that about, Connor?”

  “I don’t know.” I’m all quiet.

  “If you want to talk, Connor, I’m here. Say whatever is on your mind. It’s okay. I won’t judge.” She means it.

  I want to tell her everything. Finally get it all off my chest. I look at her for a long time. I want to tell her. But I don’t want to talk about it. I hate fuckin talking about it. I never bring it up with anybody. Not even Ryan. He knows what it does to me.

  “Please, Connor. Tell me.”

  I stare out the front window, white-knuckling the suicide handle above the door like we’re driving off a fuckin cliff. The idea of talking about it makes me feel like I’m already falling over a cliff that has no fuckin bottom. I can’t do it. “We should go.”

  She sighs hard. “What are we doing, Connor?”

  “Driving home.”

  “No. I mean us. What are we doing?”

  “You tell me.”

  “Damn it, Connor! Can’t you say more than that? Something is on your mind. Why won’t you tell me?” She’s getting annoyed.

  It pisses me off. Nobody makes me talk about shit I don’t wanna talk about. I open the car door and climb out.

  “Connor! Where are you going!” There’s a desperate quality to her voice that makes me want to hurt her feelings.

  I’m a dick. I don’t care. She should know that by now. But I’m not gonna say anything right now because I don’t know what the fuck will spill out my mouth. So I walk up the fuckin sidewalk by myself. I’m a big boy and I can fuckin walk home if I have to. Two blocks and two turns later, I’m all alone, walking past the rich homes north of Melrose.

  I pull my phone out of my pocket and listen to another voicemail.

  “Bad news, son,” my dad says. “Your mom gambled away your entire inheritance in Vegas. Can you believe she blew it all on nickel slots?”

  “I didn’t blow it all. I only lost a hundred dollars, Finn,” my mom laughs. “And we don’t have an inheritance anyway.”

  Dad starts laughing. “What do you mean, Kell? We have the RV. We can give it to Connor after our trip. He can live in this thing like a king!”

  “He won’t want to live in an RV,” Mom chuckles dismissively. “He needs his space, isn’t that right, Connor?”

  She’s wrong about that. I know guys who live in their RVs. It’s not a bad way to go. You can park at the beach and enjoy the view all up and down the west coast. Seattle in the summer when it’s hot, San Diego in the winter when it’s cold. I’d just need a trailer to tow my bike and I’d be golden. Maybe that’s exactly what I need to do with my life. Get the fuck out of L.A. and never look back. Maybe Ryan can come with me and we can rob banks like fuckin Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. There’s worse ways to live.

  “The good news is,” Dad says, “if you don’t want the RV, we can help you ou
t with a down payment on your first mansion. Would you believe your old man won six hundred bucks on dollar blackjack?”

  “He did, Connor! Your dad was like Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man last night! Six hundred dollars! I made him take me out to a fancy dinner.”

  “And afterward I took her back to the RV and I was all Tom Cruise all night long.”

  I grin. Fuckin Dad.

  “That’s awful, Finn,” Mom groans while laughing. “Connor doesn’t even know what Rain Man is.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot! We saw the Grand Canyon. It was magnificent, son. You really need to go someday. It really is one of the seven wonders of the world.”

  “But would you believe it’s not as large as your father’s mouth?” Mom giggles.

  “Too true,” Dad laughs. “I asked your mom if she wanted to take a donkey ride down to the bottom of the canyon, but she said she already rides my ass enough as it is.” He laughs to himself. “Anyway, son. Our cross country adventure is almost over and we’re almost home. We’ve had a great time, but we both miss you like crazy and we’ll see you soon.”

  “Bye, Connor! Say hi to Ryan and his parents for us! We love you!” Mom makes kissing noises before Dad ends the call.

  I stop on the sidewalk and hang my head, ready to fuckin cry right here.

  “Who were you talking to?” Lex asks, leaning over to look out her passenger window at me. She must’ve just driven up. Fuckin Hondas. Quietest cars on the road.

  “Were you following me?” I growl, instantly angry.

  “Yes.” She smiles.

  “Don’t be such a fuckin stalker, Warmoth.” I turn around and fast walk the other way. I sounded like a dick, but she shouldn’t be invading my privacy like that.

  Her car door opens and closes and cowboy boots click behind me. “What the hell is wrong with you, Connor?!”

  I slow, but don’t stop. I almost stop. Fuck. I keep walking.

  “Connor! Stop! Please!”

  “Fuck! What?!” I turn around and glare at her. “What do you want, Warmoth?!”

  She frowns, her face hardening. “You’re an asshole, Connor.”

  I’m not arguing.

  “I don’t know why I bothered with you. You’re no different now than you were in high school. Having sex with you was a big mistake.”

  I know. “What were you expecting? Prince Fuckin Charming? I’m just the cover model, Warmoth. I’m not the guy who buys roses and rings so you can take me home to your parents.” Fuck, it hurts to say it. But it’s true.

  She stares at me.

  This is the part of the story where she turns around, jumps back in her car, and drives off and I’m supposed to chase her and shit. I know. I’ve read a few of those corny ass books I’ve done covers for. But guess what? I don’t play that shit. “Fuck off, Warmoth. Don’t call me.”

  I turn around and keep walking.

  <<<<<<<>>>>>>>

  ELECTRA

  “Come back here, asshole!” I shout as I run after him.

  He doesn’t stop.

  “You owe me an explanation!” I scream. You would think he would stop or at least slow down or something. But nooo, Connor keeps going. I finally catch up and grab him by the back of his shirt. “Stop already!”

  He spins around, yanking his shirt free. “Go the fuck away, Brown Out.”

  “Don’t call me that, Connor Stupid!”

  “Fine, Skanklin. Back the fuck off and leave me the fuck alone.” He’s totally serious.

  “What is wrong with you, Connor?”

  He grinds his jaw and stares at the night sky. “I’m not going to be your fuckin boyfriend.”

  “Who said anything about being my boyfriend? I just asked what was on your mind and you flipped out like a crazy person!”

  “Yeah, well maybe I am fuckin crazy. You should take that as a hint and move on.”

  “No, Connor! I’m not moving on!”

  “I am.” He turns to walk away.

  I grab the back of his shirt again and pull as hard as I can. “Tell me what the hell is going on, Connor!”

  “Would you let fuckin go, Warmoth?” He doesn’t turn around but he stops.

  “No! Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

  He sighs heavily and rakes his hand through his hair.

  I’m afraid to say anything. I don’t want to spark his anger again. Instead, I place my palm gently against his back.

  He winces but doesn’t move away.

  After a minute, he turns slowly, reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He punches buttons and puts it on speaker. A voicemail from his parents plays. It sounds like they’re on an RV trip in Vegas. I laugh at his dad’s joke about Tom Cruise. When the message ends, he puts the phone away.

  “Your parents are funny,” I grin. “How come you keep them hidden away?”

  “Because they’re dead,” he says grimly.

  “What? They said they’ll be home soon. Vegas is like four hours from here. They’ll be in L.A. just after midnight.”

  “They’re dead, Warmoth.”

  “What are you talking about?” I don’t know anything about Connor’s family. In high school, the only things I knew about him were what I saw in school. I have no idea what his home life was like. Or Ryan Hansen’s, for that matter. We weren’t friends. Now, I know all kinds of things about Ryan and his family. Thinking about it, none of them ever mentioned the first thing about Connor’s parents in all the times I visited. Mr. and Mrs. Hansen never asked about Mr. and Mrs. Hughes. You’d think they would have, considering how close Connor is to them. Unless they had some kind of weird feud because of Ryan’s accident? “This doesn’t make any sense, Connor.”

  “They’re dead. They died when I was twelve. My uncle raised me after that.”

  “Oh my god.” I gasp and cover my mouth. “Are you serious?”

  His voice turns robotic. “Yeah. He didn’t want to raise me. My uncle never had any kids. He thought having a kid meant you didn’t get laid anymore, so he never wanted any. And he never got married. Just had a string of girlfriends. One after the other. Always had them over at the house. Fucked them in his bedroom.” He smiles morosely. “Maybe that’s when I decided to start chasing girls. If it could chase away my uncle’s pain, it could chase mine, I guess.”

  I’m still in shock. It’s hard to take this all in. “I’m so sorry, Connor.”

  “My uncle told me straight up I was the reason for his brother’s death, my dad. My parents went on that road trip because their marriage was having problems. My uncle told me they wouldn’t’ve had any problems in the first place if I wasn’t around fuckin things up for them.”

  “What a jerk,” I mumble.

  “I don’t know if that part is true or not, but I do know they needed some time away from everything. They were arguing all the time for the whole year before the trip. They needed a real vacation to work things out and rekindle their romance or whatever. So they drove their RV across the country and died right before they got home.”

  “How? I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but this is all so confusing.” I feel guilty and awful for asking.

  “Their RV had a blowout on a long downhill grade on the 15. My dad was trying to avoid hitting a fuckin washing machine that fell off the back of a pickup truck. The dumbshits driving it didn’t tie it down. The CHP officer told me and my uncle that Mom and Dad’s RV popped a front tire and landed on its side because of god damn washing machine debris. And because of the downhill, an 18-wheeler plowed into the roof of the RV’s cab before it could stop, killing my parents instantly.” His face is tortured and haunted.

  “Oh my god, Connor. That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

  “The funny thing is,” he’s not smiling when he says it, “if my parents’ marriage hadn’t been having problems, I would’ve been in that RV with them. Then we all would’ve died together. My uncle wouldn’t have had to raise me. I wouldn’t have had to deal with him hating my as
s and me hating his, or wondering every fuckin day why my parents had to die without me.” His eyes shimmer with profound sorrow.

  And like that, the last piece of the puzzle that is Connor Hughes falls into place. I can’t begin to imagine what his life was like after his parents’ death. I don’t want to imagine it. The guilt, the heartbreak, the misery. I can gather everything I need to know from the broken look on his face. Inside Connor’s ruggedly muscled manly body is a broken little boy. My heart aches for him. “Oh, Connor. I’m so, so sorry.” I take one of his hands in mine and hold it gently.

  “Now that you know, please never ask me to talk about this again. Okay?” His face is raw and sad and infinitely heavy.

  I nod slowly, my own voice shaky. “Oh—okay.” Something tells me holding it all in isn’t the way to go, but I’m too overwhelmed to argue and I don’t think saying anything now could possibly fix this. It could take a lifetime to heal the damage he’s suffered. If it can be healed at all. “Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’m here for you, Connor.”

  “I need to fuck you, Lex.”

  I’m shocked by his request. It comes from left field. I’m no grief counselor, but something tells me this isn’t the healthiest way to deal with grief.

  “Please,” he whispers.

  “What, here?” I look around the upscale neighborhood. Lights are on in the houses, cars are parked all up and down both sides of the street beneath the orange glow of the street lamps. Some shirtless guy with shaggy hair bouncing out of his headband runs by with a big dog on a leash. At least it’s not little kids this time.

  “Yeah.” His voice is hoarse.

  I consider suggesting we drive back to his place or mine, but this moment seems as fragile as Connor. I don’t want to break him or it or us and risk never seeing him again. “Okay. Should we, uh, use my car?”

  He nods.

  For a second, I hesitate. I’m afraid Connor is using me by making this request, but maybe he isn’t. My own powerful emotions coarse through my chest. Something incredible is happening between us and I know it. It’s unexplainable, beyond words or any rational sense, but I feel the rightness of it.