Have you ever been in a public place, see a handsome man and think to yourself…”wow, he’d make a great cover model.” That happens to me a lot and I sadly keep walking when all I want to do is stop, ask for his name and number. No, not for the reason you’re thinking. I want him to appear on the cover of one of my books. The other day, my wee one and I were walking in the park and I spotted the perfect ‘model’. Tall, built spectacular (I like my men more on the natural side, although I respect how much work it takes for buff models to get toned with no body fat), and strong–he was running up and down a big hill, over and over, sweating, slick…oh my. My radar triggered, the desire to ask him if he’d consider modeling was rolling through my brain, and he was right there…
There are several factors to consider here. One, how corny is it to walk up to a man and ask if he’d model for you? Reminds me of one of those Lifetime creepy movies where photographers approach attractive women and lure them back to a private spot for sinister acts. With that in mind, I’m 5’2, around 110. He was a good 6’2, weighing at least 200. Cross the perverted and sinister act off. Two, it takes an outgoing, brave soul to approach anyone and ask them such a question. I look around for a wife, girlfriend, lover, partner…anyone who’d think I was flirting. No one in sight. You’d never believe how many women/men refuse to let their partner model for a romance novel.
Okay, so I’ve talked myself into asking the guy. After all, he could say yes, or no. It’s a toss up.
I tell my wee one what I’m going to do and she freaks out. Suddenly I’ve moved from the cool mom box to the embarrassing mom box. What?!? Her face turns three shades of innocent red and she takes off at a run. And here’s the thing…the understanding that I have with my kids is that I’m their mom. Being embarrassed by me is part of life. I can’t help that anymore than I can control the weather. Just as they can’t help that they bug the shit out of me at times. But we still love each other. Amazingly so.
Out of respect for my kid, I walk on–well, actually run because she is about a half mile ahead of me at this point. It’s unbelievable how fast a kid can move with the right motivation. Dang! I just know he would have said yes!
Let’s talk hot cowboy, shall we?
Have you pre-ordered The Discreet Cowboy (Book 6, Cowboys of Nirvana) yet?
She hinged at the waist, wrapping her fingers around his wide girth and bending over him. She couldn’t wait to get her mouth on him and, just as she was about to suckle him between her lips, a knock came at the door.
Dade stiffened and she narrowed her eyes. “Go away,” she muttered.
Another heavy pounding came and the vase sitting on the table shook.
Felicia sat up, trepidation racing down her spine. She looked at Dade in curiosity, mouthing, “Who is it?”
He shrugged. “I’ll look.”
With disappointment, she unclutched his cock and watched him cross to the window. He looked as good going as he did coming. His ass was tight and squeezable.
“Oh fuck!” he whispered.
Her breath caught. “What?”
A pale, pasty color took the place of Dade’s normal olive complexion. “Chase is out there.”
“Oh shit!” She bounced off the bed and pulled the shirt around to cover her nudity. “What do we do?”
“We don’t answer the door like this.” He started for his jeans on the floor. She’d never seen a man slip into pants so quickly before. “You go to the bathroom and get dressed. I’ll take care of Chase.”
“Are you sure?” This could be World War Three getting ready to erupt.
He nodded. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Open up. I know you’re in there!” Chase yelled through the door.
“You’ll need this.” She slipped his shirt from her shoulders and handed it over. She moved toward the bathroom carrying her clothes when Dade caught her by the elbow and pulled her back. She looked up at him, confused. “Yes?”
“One more.” He kissed her on the lips. It was brief, but it told her they were on each other’s side when it came to Chase.
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