by Iris Blaire
I straighten, trying to control my breath.
Britain fans herself with her hand. “Damn, is it hot in here or is it just you two?” She winks at me and Andrea opens the door. The two of them step out of the office to get some fresh air.”
“Help,” Evan pleads.
“Oh, shit.” Gently, I unwind the belt from her hands, and she rolls over to her back. Her slate eyes are glassy, her lips are swollen, like we actually just got finished screwing each other. This only turns me on more.
“I can get that,” she says.
“It’s fine.” I work at loosening the knot at her ankles. “It’s the least I can do after that.”
“Dallas Whitley,” she says my name breathlessly, and I glance away from her feet to watch her arch off the desk and stretch her arms out in front of her. Her tan body glistens with the sheen of sweat. “You are so lucky to aren’t single right now.”
My hands freeze on the loosened knot. “Why’s that?”
Without breaking her gaze with me, she says, “Because if you were, after putting me through that little number, I’d make you get me off.”
She can’t be serious.
“You can’t be serious.”
She sighs wipes her forehead with the back of my hand, and releases a throaty laugh. “Oh my God,” she says. “I can’t believe I just said that. The heat is making me delirious or something.” She looks down at her feet. “You going to take all day on that knot, or what?”
^^^^
When I’m back at my apartment, I throw my keys on the table and yell Tricia’s name.
I’ve had a raging hard-on since the shoot. I’m sure the girls noticed it, but at this point, I really couldn’t give a fuck.
I just need to get off. I need to get off now.
I yell Tricia’s name again before I see her handwritten note on the fridge.
Boss took me to dinner. Back at 11. OXOX
I curse and stalk down the hall, ripping off my shirt before I make it to the bathroom. I think about taking a cold shower, but why torture myself any more than I’ve already been tortured today?
I pull off my slacks and make sure the water is steaming before stepping in. I groan when the burning hot jet engulfs me, and my mind jumps to Evan. Of the way she bought into the charade as soon as I began to touch her. The way she moaned my name. How soaked her panties were.
I take hold of my cock and begin to stroke. In a matter of moments I finally have my release. But even after I’m finished, I can’t get my mind off of her.
But that’s normal. Even when I’m in love, it’s normal to feel this way about a beautiful girl like Evan, right?
She’s just a fantasy. Like if I were to go rent a porno right now while Tricia’s gone and watch it by myself. All guys do shit like that.
It’s just my dick that’s making me feel this way about Evan Cosette. It has to be.
Chapter Seven
Evan
I arch my back off my bed, fingers working furiously at my clit until I feel my third orgasm of the night wash over me. Coming down from my high, I take deep gulps of air and wait to feel satisfied, but satisfaction never comes.
I groan and flip over to my stomach, burying my head beneath my pillow as I wait for my heart to stop hammering in my chest.
It’s normal for any girl to be this turned on by a gorgeous model. Especially a girl who has sworn off guys for a year.
For a whole year, it’s been me and my fingers. Sometimes a vibrator when I feel like using one. I keep telling myself that it’s less emotionally straining than a real live man in my bed, but now I’m starting to question that statement.
I haven’t wanted anyone this bad in a damn long time.
But that’s because you dry hump him for work, dipshit.
It’s true. It isn’t Dallas Whitley that is turning me on. It is the generic male presence after being so chaste for so long.
It has to be. I can’t be feeling things for Dallas. He’s in grad school in my department and is my coworker. He’s too close to everything important in my life. Everything keeping me afloat.
And he has a girlfriend. I can’t be feeing anything for Dallas because he has a girlfriend.
^^^^
The next morning, things are in serious production mode in the studio. I make my banana protein shake and head over there in my pjs, sitting in the corner as Britain organizes teams of writers, graphic designers, the guy who does our page layout—hell, even the web designer is here. It’s so loud in the studio living room that everyone’s yelling just to be heard, but even in the chaos, Britain still has a huge smile on her face.
She’s gotten pre-production down to a science, that girl. The formatting and layout of the magazine are usually done in one work day, tops. Our rapid momentum is why we’re capable of being bimonthly—well, that and our readers are willing to buy two issues a month. It seems like they can’t quite ever get their skin fix, which works in our favor.
Britain walks over and sits next to me, resting her head on my shoulder.
“You’ve been working really hard on this issue,” I say.
She sighs. “Thanks for noticing, Evan. I need people like you in my life.”
I smile. My favorite thing about Britain and me is that we can be snarky to each other during shoots to let off steam, but that doesn’t ever put a dent in our friendship. Unconventional, yes, but it’s been working out for us.
“Evan—your shoot with Dallas. Jesus, it’s like the two of you are made to pose together. I mean, even though Adam’s and Delilah’s shoots are more risqué, the two of you are making me really hot and bothered.”
I snort. “That’s kind of disturbing.”
“I’m sorry, it’s the truth. Once you forget I’m there, you guys have crazy chemistry.”
“Well, that’s good. At least Dallas is doing what you hired him for.”
“You like him?” she asks.
“Dallas? Well yeah, sure. He knows what he’s doing.”
She giggles. “That’s not what I meant, Evan.”
Oh. She’s asking if I like him, like him, as if we’re in high school and we’re talking about the cute band kid with braces. Good grief.
Before I can say anything, one of the writers calls her over to ask her a question, and I’m left alone. I get the hell out of the studio.
Having the pool shoot and the desk shoot under our belts, Dallas and I are set for a while in terms of modeling. Britain wants to debut us with the desk shoot and use the pool shoot for the next issue, when Rylan has some fun time with her professor in the gym shower.
Seriously—these shoots are so corny, I won’t be surprised if they flop. If they did flop, I guess Britain would have to fire the boys.
An odd pang of disappointment settles in the pit of my stomach, but it’s quickly replaced by anxiety as I head out toward the mailbox. I haven’t received any letters regarding acceptance from any of the schools that I applied to for grad programs. Something tells me that news is right around the corner.
I open the mailbox only to have disappointment return to me. Nothing but advertisements and junk mail.
I chuck the papers in the trashcan and return to my room, where I spend the rest of the day studying for my biology test tonight. Dallas pointed me in the right direction, and with his guidance, hopefully I will only study what’s needed for the test. Hopefully, he won’t be screwing me over.
An hour before class, Mom texts me. So, this weekend… u busy?
I sigh. I can’t avoid her any longer. I hit the reply button. Sure. I’ll come see your new place.
Dallas
Being a graduate intern means that mostly, you get to do a bunch of bitch work.
One of my peers and I distribute exams to the two-hundred undergrads in the lecture hall. Test A, test B, test C, test D. We make sure no two people sitting next to each other have the same letter.
Evan sits at the very back of the hall. She smiles at me when I hand her the test. I wan
t to mouth ‘good luck’ to her but I know how weird she is about people seeing us interact, and I want to respect that.
The next two hours are spend being the asshole who walks up and down the aisles, watching all of the students like hawks to make sure no one is cheating. A couple of times I catch Evan’s eye. She bites her lower lip to hide a grin and glances back down at her test. God… I don’t want to know how many guys she’s won over with that move.
It’s nine-pm when all of the tests are finally in. I’m on my way to the office to begin the grading marathon when I pass Evan in the hall. To my surprise, she looks to her right and left to make sure that we’re alone, and then leans up against the wall. “Hey.”
“How do you think you did?” I ask.
The corners of her lips perk up. “Nailed it,” she says. “I think I might need you to tutor me every week.”
Even though her makeup-less face, glasses, and sweats make her look young enough to be a teenager, she still has this wise aura about her.
“What about this weekend?” I offer. “We’re done…” I glance around. “We’re done shooting. I wouldn’t mind getting out of town for a bit.”
She frowns and pushes up her glasses with her fingertip. “I have to go visit my mom this weekend.”
“Where does your mom live?”
“Chico.”
“Oh, ok. It’s nice there.”
She cocks her head, sly grin find her lips. “Are you hinting that you want to come with me to my mom’s?”
“I didn’t think I was hinting at anything, but if you’re looking for company….” Tricia’s going on a weekend trip to visit one of her clients anyway. It’s not like I’d be doing much, other than homework.”
“You really want to come?” she asks, and then shrugs. “Well, I guess that would work well for me. If I have a guest, Mom won’t pressure me into staying longer than a day. There’s a great coffee shop downtown.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I sigh, and scratch my head with the one not holding all the tests. “So, the issue goes into production this week.”
She nods. “Britain’s really excited about it.” She cocks her head. “You nervous?” Her eyes sparkle with this adorable curiosity.
Before I can respond, though, voices come from down the hall. It’s the other grad students that are going to help grade the test tonight.
Evan pulls her books tight against her chest and pushes up her glasses one last time. “Talk to you later, Dallas,” she says, and before I can tell her goodnight, she’s already made her way down the hall and out of sight.
^^^^
I’m about to send Evan’s Scantron through the machine when Brad, another graduate intern, says, “So Dallas, you gotta let me know if the rumors are true.”
I glance up at him. Brad and the three other interns are staring at me. All of them wear wicked grins—except for Abby, the girl of the group, who just rolls her eyes.
“What rumors?” I ask nonchalantly, and slide Evan’s Scantron into the machine.
“The ones about you getting to fuck those EPE girls on camera.”
The machine spits out the Scantron. She missed three. Evan got a 97 percent on the multiple choice part of the exam.
“I’m not fucking anyone on camera, Brad,” I say. “Don’t know where you heard that, but your source is wrong.”
My answer doesn’t satisfy him. “But you are modeling for EPE, right?”
I flip open Evan’s test and pull the answer key toward me, avoiding eye contact with Brad. “I am. What’s it to you?”
“Fuck, dude. You are like the luckiest motherfucker alive. What I wouldn’t give to be able to dry hump those bitches. That Rylan chick has such a sweet ass I’d like to—”
“I swear to God, Brad, shut up before I beat the living shit out of you.”
I’m not really a violent person. But fuckheads like Brad make me snap.
He holds his hands up. “Whoa, Bro. Chill. I’m just kidding around.”
No you aren’t, I think. I look down, realizing I’m crumpling Evan’s test in my clenched hands. I smooth it out, take a few deep breaths, and start grading.
This girl isn’t just some eye-candy or fuck meat for assholes like Brad. She’s brilliant. And I realize how brilliant she is when I finish grading all of her complicated drawings of proteins and cells—stuff that, even though I did give her direction on what she needed to study, she’d only know if she were really dedicated to her work.
Ninety-five. Evan got a ninety-five.
When I finish grading my portion, I say nothing and leave the office, knowing that anything out of my mouth would be threateningly confrontational.
I don’t realize that Abby is following me until I’m almost to my car in the parking lot.
“That was a really awesome thing you did,” she says.
“What’s that?”
“Standing up for those models.” She scuffs her feet. Abby is the kind of girl who’s painfully nerdy. I’m not sure I’ve even heard her speak before now.
“They’re not just models to me,” I say honestly. “They’re my friends too. Of course I’m going to stand up for them.”
“It’s really cool to hear you say that,” she says excitedly. “Can’t wait for the next issue.”
I take a step back. This chick—an EPE subscriber? I wouldn’t have guessed in a billion years.
“You get to pose with Rylan Willow?” she asks.
“Yeah, I do.”
“She’s my favorite. You’re a lucky guy.”
I smile, opening my car door. I guess I am.
^^^^
The living room is dark when I get home, but I can see that, down the hall, the bedroom light is on. I throw my keys on the dining table and set my stack of papers on the couch, undressing as I make my way back to the bedroom. I freeze in undoing my tie when I see Tricia sprawled across the bed in nothing but a pair of black panties. She stretches her arms above her head and says, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
About damn time.
“What’s the occasion?” I ask, unbuckling my belt.
She arches her back, splaying her slender legs. “I’ve been evasive lately, and since I’m going to be gone this weekend and then leaving for a week next month, thought I’d give you a little treat.”
When my clothes are off, I climb onto the bed and lie on my back. Just seeing her for the first time in a long time trying to turn me on instead of the opposite way around is enough to get me hard immediately.
When Tricia’s on top of me, I slide her panties down her legs and she sinks down on top me. I groan, savoring the feeling of being inside of her.
We don’t speak.
When I offer to get her off after I finish, she kisses me and tells me that it’s okay. That she’s tired.
She rolls over and turns off the lamp, and we go to sleep.
Chapter Eight
Evan
What the fuck am I doing?
I’m bringing Dallas to my mom’s house, that’s what I’m doing.
I think that we were both much too polite to tell the other that this is a really dumb idea. I’m wondering if he feels the same way as me. That going to Chico is just getting our minds off the fact that EPE is in a printing weekend, and on Monday, our naughty school girl and professor photo shoot will be readily available to anyone willing to pay five dollars.
Dallas needs a distraction so much that he’s willing to visit my mother and her crappy apartment.
As I drive up the freeway, I tell him, “So my mom thinks that you are my coworker. As far as she knows, I do clerical work for a tech support office.
“So… I’m supposed to be like, part of the geek squad?”
“Sure,” I say. “You fit the role.” I bite my lip, trying to hide the fact that I’m amused at my own damn joke.
“Har har. Hey, just because I am a grad student in biology doesn’t mean that I can’t be hot. Britain seems to think so.”
I nod, keeping my e
yes on the road. “That she does.”
“And so do you.”
“Okay, Mr. Cocky-Ass. Way to assume.”
“So you don’t think I’m hot?”
I open my mouth to respond, but is there really a reason for me to flat-out lie to him? I maneuver my way around the question instead. “Well, you were kind of forced on me, so I guess, given the circumstances, dealing with you hasn’t been the hardest thing.”
He scoffs. “Okay, Evan. Sure.”
I feel my entire face flush. I remember how wet I was during our last shoot. How much I wanted Britain and Andrea to be gone and my lingerie to be gone and for him to just take me. He spread my legs apart. My panties were incredibly thin.
He had to have seen how much I ached for him.
Luckily, he veers from the subject. Maybe he sees how uncomfortable I am. “So, I’m the nerd that you work under.”
“She’ll assume we’re together. Just be honest and tell her we’re friends.”
“Or I can tell her I had you bent over a desk in your panties yesterday.”
“God, you’re an asshole.” I take in a deep, shuddering breath, less because I’m angry and more because the way he said it sounded so fucking hot.
“Chill, Evan. I’m kidding, of course.” And then he’s back to his goofy self, his dark, sexual aura suddenly absent. It’s incredible how quickly he can change like that. Must be the model side of him. The ability to reflect whatever character he must. “I think it’s unfair that our scenarios have me continuously dominating you.”
“Well, we’ve put on the professor-and-naughty-student pants. What more can you expect?”
“But it’s unfair. I feel like we have to make it even somehow.”
“Like have a shoot where I’m whipping your ass with a riding crop or something?”
