Dirty Talk
Copyright ©S. L. Scott 2016
The right of S.L. Scott to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-940071-38-1
Interior design: Angela McLaurin – Fictional Formats
Cover design: Kari March Designs
Front Cover Photographer: Samuel Ramirez
Cover Model: Charlie Matthews
Editing:
Marion Archer of Making Manuscripts
Marla Esposito of Proofing Style
This bonus edition of
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SWEET TALK
DANNY WESTON
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
EPILOGUE
DIRTY TALK
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
EPILOGUE
THE RESISTANCE
AVAILABLE BOOKS BY AUTHOR S. L. SCOTT
S.L. SCOTT
Talk to Me Series
Sweet Talk
Dirty Talk
Hard to Resist Series
The Resistance
The Reckoning
The Redemption
The Revolution
Welcome to Paradise Series
Good Vibrations
Good Intentions
Good Sensations
Happy Endings
Welcome to Paradise Series Set
From the Inside Out Series
Scorned
Jealousy
Dylan
Austin
From the Inside Out Compilation
Stand Alone Books
Until I Met You
Naturally, Charlie
A Prior Engagement
Lost in Translation
Sleeping with Mr. Sexy
Morning Glory
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Sweet Talk
Copyright ©S. L. Scott 2016
The right of S.L. Scott to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-940071-34-3
Interior design: Angela McLaurin – Fictional Formats
Cover design: Kari March Designs
Front Cover Photographer: Samuel Ramirez
Featured on the Front Cover: Andrea Denver
Editing:
Marion Archer of Making Manuscripts
Marla Esposito of Proofing Style
Nicole Strauss – Perfectly Publishable
DEDICATION
For the first cheerleader in my life and the woman who gave me someone to look up to. I love you, Mom.
A PERSONAL NOTE
I’m so grateful to be surrounded by such love and talent. My greatest loves are my husband and children – I’ve said this before, but it still stands eternally true.
I am because of you.
To my mom, sister, and niece, and all of my family – I love you. You are brave and strong, beautiful and giving. Thank you for always sharing your love with me.
I am so fortunate to have friends who have stood by me for years. Some from the age of fourteen and some from before I earned a high school or college degree. You are my constants and I love you dearly – Jennifer, Kerri, and Kirsten.
My readers and the bloggers who have shared, reviewed, bought, loved my books – You are Amazing and I’ll be forever thankful.
The book world has brought me some of the most wonderful souls into my life. You make this journey fun and exciting. You cheer me on daily and celebrate my successes as well as comfort me in times of need. Thank you Adriana, Danielle, Flavia, Heather, Irene, Kandace, Kellie, Laura, Lisa, Lynsey, Marla, Mary, Ruth and Sonia.
And I couldn’t do what I do without the support and help of these amazing women. Some I’ve met and some I’m determined to meet soon, but they all hold a special place in my heart – Amy B., Andrea J., Serena M., Annette P., Kristen J., and Tiana, J. and to my amazing Kiss & Tells.
Thank you so my #PartyWhores. You make me smile and laugh. You are amazing and a highlight of my day.
Angela M. – Thank you for designing beautiful books that I’m so proud to share.
A Huge Thank You to Marla, Marion, and Nichole for your keen eyes and speedy skills.
DANNY WESTON
__________________
Height 6’3”
Waist 33.5”
Chest 41.5”
Suit 42 L
Inseam 34”
Shoes 13
Eyes Light Brown
Hair Medium Brown
___________________
Editorial Note: Most sought after male model in the industry. Holl
ywood calling. Best known for his body—underwear modeling, fitness, runway, print ads. Needs extra room in the inseam. Easy to work with.
Follows through. Even more.
CHAPTER 1
~Danny~
“GOD, I WANT you, Danny,” Simone whispers into my ear. She licks just below it before sliding down over my jaw and biting me.
My hold tightens around her hips, steadying her. I should have seen the bite coming. They all do it, assuming they have to do something extreme to be sexy, to get my attention. Like every other time it happens, I pull back and run my fingers into her hair at the nape of her neck, then tighten my grip.
She gasps and digs her nails into my shoulders while the innocence she’s trying to portray in her eyes fails under the skepticism found in mine. Our bodies are pressed together and heated, the fan not strong enough to cool us down.
Tilting her head back, I kiss the divot at the bottom of her neck, then lick from base to chin, taking my sweet time. Simone’s back arches, pushing her breasts against my chest and she moans in pleasure.
“That is so hot. Keep it up,” a voice intrudes.
Simone sighs, irritated, and pulls away. I turn to the photographer’s assistant standing at the edge of the set just as Simone reveals her frustration by leaning back and swinging her leg over me to stand up. Leisurely, my gaze slides up her lean legs. She’s taller than most women and the heels she’s wearing add another good five inches. Appreciating her physique, I smile and recline back with my hands behind my head while watching her adjust the strings at her hips. Her head snaps up and her eyes narrow on the assistant off set. “If you want us to keep it up, then shut up next time.” She storms off, her shoes clacking loudly against the gray cement floor.
Knowing an angry model needs time, I sit up, and ask, “How much time do we have?”
Everyone is well aware that the mood has changed on the set. Worry creases the assistant’s brow when he answers, “I think, umm… five or ten minutes.”
The guy’s anxiety rolls like waves crashing around me. Feeling bad for him, I reassure, “Don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine. Just give her a few minutes to cool down.”
“Thanks.” He smiles though it’s weak. “Are you doing all right?”
I smile genuinely while standing up. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.” When I start to walk, the knit boxer briefs I’m wearing for the shoot tighten uncomfortably, so I stop to adjust. They’re a size too small, so I grab my cock and shift. “Actually, I could use a larger size. These are cutting off my blood circulation down here.”
Before the assistant can respond, two women suddenly appear from the darkened side of the large loft. A cute, petite blonde offers, “Let me take a look. Maybe I can help.” She’s bold, not shy like I would have guessed from the librarian look she’s chosen.
The other lady—taller with some gray strands running through her dark hair—seems new to the modeling world. She stands there staring below my waist, and by the way she’s ogling me, I’m guessing she might be new to naked men in general. Maybe she’s never worked on an underwear campaign before. She clears her throat and finds her voice. “They fit around the waist so I can add more material, if you’d like? But I’ll need them to do that.”
Bypassing the first offer, I accept the second. This is my job. I’m a pro, a model, and used to being naked in front of strangers, so I drop my drawers. I bend down to get them, and when I stand back up I’m greeted with two mouths hanging wide open. “Ladies, you’re gonna make me feel shy,” I tease. I’m not shy at all.
Lifting their chins until both their mouths are closed, I chuckle as they continue to stare unabashedly. The taller woman says, “Oh you have nothing to be shy about.”
“Absolutely nothing,” the blonde adds insistently.
“Thanks,” I reply, my voice it’s usual charm. I hand the boxers to the lady and walk off set to grab my robe. When I slip it on, Becs from wardrobe approaches and says, “I can add some room in there for you. I’ll have them back in ten minutes.”
“I already gave them to the seamstress.”
“What seamstress?” she asks.
“The one over there.” When I turn to the set, they’ve vanished. Scanning the loft from one side to the other, the two women are nowhere to be found. “She was just here with a blonde lady.” Perplexed I scan again. “I have no idea where they went.”
Becs rolls her eyes, shakes her head, and sighs loudly. “Good grief. Not again.” Turning on her heels, she yells out, “Security. We’ve had another breach.” With her eyes narrowed on my waist, she adds, “Tighten the belt. You don’t want anyone selling a photo of your frank ‘n beans to the highest bidder.” Her mood lightening, she smiles and shrugs. “Or maybe you do. I’ll get your next wardrobe change—”
I laugh but point to my privates. “Extra roomy.”
Becs waves her hand in the air while walking off. “Yeah. Yeah. I got it.”
I make my way to craft services where I find Simone eating what appears to be her third Snickers by the wrappers littering the table next to her. “Do they have fruit today?”
She speaks with a full mouth. “Down at the other end of the table.”
The photographer’s assistant announces, “Five minutes.”
Eyeing her as she shoves the last of the candy bar into her mouth, then makes what I guess is the universal sign for vomiting with her finger, I try to hold my lecture for another time. When she disappears down the hall, I understand the stress she’s under. The modeling world is competitive. One pound over the other girl and a model can lose the job. Simone desires to keep working, to stay on top of her game, but I’ve never found gaunt sexy. When the camera adds ten pounds, I get why they do it.
Grabbing an apple, I eat while walking back to the set. Becs is there and hands me a pair of customized black briefs, extra fabric finely sewn into the middle. “Let’s get these on and see how they look.”
I pull them on under my robe before untying the belt to let her take a closer look. She bends and eyes my dick, making me smile. When she stands up, she clasps her hands together. “Yep, looks good.”
“Thanks,” I reply smugly. What? I’m human. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
Becs’s attempts at playing it cool are undermined when her cheeks pink. “I don’t date models, Danny.”
“Who said anything about dating?” I wink playfully.
“That’s exactly why I don’t date models,” she replies, not able to hide the cute blush. Watching her walk away, I notice the pep in her step and hope I made her day a little more enjoyable.
After three-pointing the apple core into the wastebasket, I mentally celebrate scoring with a self-satisfied smile while returning to the bed and waiting.
When Simone returns, she sits next to me. Her body is tense, her hands have a slight shake, and she’s paler than before. As makeup rushes over and starts touching her up, I whisper, “You okay?”
She stares down at the floor while they apply more powder. “Fine.”
I’ve known Simone for a few years. Not quite twenty-four, her career is going strong, but sometimes she’s moody. I think it’s the constant lack of food, so I offer, “Wanna grab a bite after?”
The makeup lady leaves and Simone looks up. Touching my cheeks, she says, “You’re always so sweet, but you know I don’t really eat, much less out at restaurants in front of others.”
“I was hoping you’d break your rule for me.”
She smiles, and sounds hopeful. “I’ll break mine if you break yours. Why won’t you sleep with models?”
“I’ve slept with many models.”
“Then why haven’t we ever slept together?”
With a cocked eyebrow, I point out, “You were too young.” Taking advantage of young girls isn’t my thing. A lot of male models go through these girls with abandon, but by the time I hit my upper twenties, there was no appeal in dating a girl barely legal to drink just because sh
e was hot. Now that I’m in my early thirties, I don’t want a girl. I want a woman. “And as you pointed out, we’re friends.”
A gleam enters her eyes when she laughs, leaning back on the bed. “That’s right. You were the first to ever turn me down. The only, in fact. Why are you so good, Danny Weston, when being bad is so much more fun?”
Memories flash through my mind like a spinning Rolodex. “I’ve done a lot of bad, and nothing worked out. Maybe a little good will suit me better.”
Maneuvering her body, she wraps her legs around me, and drags her nails very lightly down my chest, careful to not leave a mark. Moving close enough to kiss, she whispers, “Well, if good doesn’t work out for you, come find me.”
The photographer shows up and without noticing the intimacy, starts filling us in on the angles he wants to complete the shoot. “We’re not going to use the bra in this set. You two will be blurred in the background, but I want side breast and shadows. Covered nipples, but that’s all I want hidden. Intimate, desire, like in pre-sex. Give me foreplay. I want kissing but no tongues showing. Simone, his scent is driving you wild and you can’t keep your hands off him.” He turns around and shouts, “Prepare for the close-up of the cologne bottle. Whoever has been spraying my studio with that shit is fired.”
When he leaves, Simone’s lips quirk into mischievousness, ignoring his rant. “Foreplay. Pre-sex.” She reaches around, her breasts pushed out, and unclasps her bra. Bare before me, she directs her eyes on mine. “We can do that, right, Danny?”
Keeping my eyes on hers, I don’t deviate lower. “I think I’ll manage.”