The Cover Model
A Silver Publishing Book
The Cover Model
Copyright © 2013 by Cheyenne Meadows
E-book ISBN: 9781622321315
First E-book Publication: February 2014
Cover design by Reese Dante
Editor: Jason Huffman
Logo copyright © 2012 by Silver Publishing
Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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This book is written in US English.
PUBLISHER
18530 Mack Avenue, Box 253
Grosse Pointe Farms, MI 48236
www.SPSilverPublishing.com
Note from the Publisher
Dear Reader,
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Publisher
Silver Publishing
http://www.spsilverpublishing.com
Dedication
For Edward, who's a wonderful sounding board, a great friend, and always willing to nudge me along with suggestions.
For Tiffany. Thanks for everything.
For my parents who have been nothing but supportive in this venture. No matter what I write you hold your heads proud. That means the world.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
007
: Danjaq, LLC
Charlie's Angels
: Columbia Pictures Industries, Inc.
Energizer
: Eveready Battery Company, Inc.
PowerPoint
: Microsoft Corporation
Superman
: DC Comics E.C. Publications, Inc.
Twilight Zone
: CBS Broadcasting Inc.
Chapter 1
Fancy climbed under the warm covers, tucking the thick comforter around her chilled feet before rolling to her side. Releasing a weary sigh mixed with relief, she adjusted her pillow, closed her eyes and relaxed.
Finally. After two long weeks of endless days, she could sleep for a full night without having to get up at the crack of dawn. A blessing in her book.
After her supervisor dropped the bombshell on her a month ago, that she would not only have to attend this quarterly meeting in Seattle but also present their latest research findings, Fancy's life had immediately shifted from fast to warp speed. Her daily workload remained unchanged, but she had the additional project dumped in her lap, leading to a data collection, presentation preparation, and a last minute research tweaking marathon, the excruciating pace similar to the twenty-six mile run with a sprint at the finish.
Inhaling a deep breath, she pushed the recent happenings out of her thoughts, focusing on the present. Sleep tonight. Spend a few hours in a boring meeting in the morning. Present just before noon. Hit the spa at three. Then she could rest and relax for the remainder of the week, taking in presentations as she wanted, shopping and hanging out around the pool in between.
Thud.
Cracking one eye open, she quickly scanned her hotel room, finding nothing amiss. Must be another patron moving furniture around in the next room. With the explanation, she settled back in to the soft mattress.
Thump. Thump. Thud
.
A deep groan and high-pitched blasting wail followed.
Irritation shot to the fore as the annoying noises continued a few inches from her head. Sitting up, she glared at the wall, as if the responsibility lay within the thin barrier.
Bang. Thump. Thump.
The sounds grew louder as did the feminine squeals.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize the issue. Someone in the room next to hers enjoyed a session of mattress dancing.
A short scream carried easily to her ears before the sound became muffled.
A particularly loud and enthusiastic bout of mattress dancing.
Puffing out a breath, she flipped over, closed her eyes, and tried to ignore the hot monkey sex happening a few feet away. Seizing control of her escalating temper, she consoled herself with rational facts. How long could it last anyway? More than likely her precious silence would resume in five minutes or less. Until then, she would just burrow into her nest and think about something else. Anything else.
More moaning and a harsh male bark rattled her precarious hold on quickly rising anger. Staring at the clock, she watched and waited, knowing the session would end soon. It better.
Ten minutes passed, and still the carnal sounds continued. Grasping the sheet tightly in her fists, Fancy fought the urge to throttle Superman. After all, a common man wouldn't last that long. No way. Most were in and out in less than three minutes, rolling over and snoring before the woman could ask who got to sleep in the wet spot for the night.
Another minute crawled by with no lessening to the racket.
Either Superman really did hang out next door or he brought a few friends to play with. An orgy? She blinked at the astonishing realization.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Sitting up, Fancy threw the covers aside. It was one thing to lay there and listen to wild monkey sex. Another to have the dang bed smacking into the wall, sounding like a demolition hammer tearing through wood and sheetrock.
That's it.
Orgy or not, she wasn't about to stand any more interruption to her much deserved sleep. All her time, effort, and sweat over the past weeks would be wasted if she flopped on her presentation due to exhaustion and lack of shut-eye the night before. No Energizer sex rabbits would interfere with her biggest career honor yet.
Slipping on her house shoes, she marched to her hotel room door, threw the bolt, then stormed to the room directly to her south. Absently noting the number posted on the door, she knocked politely, trying mightily not to disturb other hotel guests who might be trying to get some rest. She tapped her knuckles again. Twice. Three times.
When no one answered, she curled her fingers into a fist and beat on the wooden door so hard the frame trembled. "Open up!" The wooden barrier stood as before, closed to her.
Sucking in a breath, she doubled her efforts, putting all her strength behind the blows. "I know orgies are illegal in this state. I demand you cease and desist at once, or I'll call the manager and the police," Fancy bluffed. Whether orgies actually crossed the legal line, she had no clue, but if it earned her some quiet, she would lie like the devil.
The door jerked open revealing a tall dark-haired man who scowled down at her, his body nude except for a white towel wrapped around his hips. In the background, a raven-haired woman scurried naked across the room.
"What in the hell is your problem?" His voice boomed in anger.
Undaunted, she fired back. "Listen, Stud Muffin. I'm exhausted and have a very important presentation in the morning, requiring sleep tonight. So why don't you, Pocahontas, and the rest of the tribe take the party somewhere else, call it a night, or invest in some gags?"
He crossed his arms over a broad and nearly hairless chest. The action drew attention to the bulging muscles in his arms and prominent pecs topped with dusky hued nipples. "There's no fucking orgy here." Annoyance laced heavily in his tone.