Modeling Death
Modeling
Death
Hidden Magic 2
Amber Kell
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Cover Artist: Reese Dante
Editor: Devin Govaere
Modeling Death © 2011 Amber Kell
ISBN # 9781920501419
Attention Readers:
This book uses US English. Thank you.
All rights reserved.
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This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. The Licensed Art Material is being used for illustrative purposes only; any person depicted in the Licensed Art Material, is a model.
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A special thank you to my fans who continue
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Post-it Note
: 3M Company
Chapter One
Jacob Richmond looked around the bar, searching among the moving bodies and flashing lights for his cousin's familiar face. The pounding music pulsed in time with the migraine throbbing through his skull. After a long international flight, exhaustion dragged his steps, and he could barely see through the pain jabbing behind his eyeballs. If he hadn't promised David he'd meet him at the club, he'd have checked into a hotel and called it a night, but David wanted Jacob to meet his friends, and besides, Jacob needed to pick up the key to his cousin's apartment.
Bingo!
Jacob spotted his cousin's distinctive red hair through the crowd. Working his way through the sea of people, Jacob headed towards where he thought he'd seen David, stopping several times along the way to slap intrusive fingers off his body.
Apparently "no" was code for "grab my ass". It was an eye-opening experience for Jacob who usually worked long hours and didn't have a lot of time for bar hopping no matter how many countries he visited. It was never a good idea to show up for a modeling gig looking tired and hung over. Some of his co-workers partied hard and came to work looking less than their best the next day.
There wasn't a quicker way to piss off a photographer.
Hoping to eventually work behind the camera instead of in front of it, Jacob tried not to alienate any of the photographers or fashion designers he might want to work with in the future.
His reputation as an even-tempered model who always delivered the perfect picture served his career well.
"Hey, David," he called out as he approached. Five other people sat around the crowded table with his cousin.
They all stopped talking and stared.
Jacob tried not to feel too self-conscious. People usually stared. However, normally a camera lens or a rope stood between him and any onlookers.
"Jacob." David jumped to his feet and rushed over to give Jacob a hug. "Sorry to drag you out here, but I really wanted my friends to meet you," he admitted with a shy smile.
Jacob knew David wanted to show off his model cousin while desperately trying not to look like it.
"I'm happy to meet your friends anytime." David was one of the few relatives who didn't drive Jacob absolutely bonkers. He figured the least he could do was meet David's friends since his cousin was letting Jacob crash at his place for a while.
"David, introduce me." A short, dark-haired kid gave Jacob a slow, skin-crawling once-over.
"Shane, this is my cousin Jacob. He's a fashion model."
Shane's eyes widened. "I know you. You did that ad where you stood on the beach looking at the water wearing that tiny, tiny swimsuit. I wore out my hand jerking off to that one."
"Um. Thanks." He tried to sound polite since he doubted Shane really wanted to know how much his comment creeped Jacob out.
"No problem. I'd love to do it with you sometime in person."
David shoved Shane away. "Stop being a perv. You're going to freak out my cousin." He gave Jacob an apologetic shrug. "Sorry. I'll pay you back for the cover charge."
"There was a cover charge?"
David laughed. "Probably not for you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. "Here. I made you a copy."
"Thanks man." Jacob snatched at the key like it was the answer to his prayers. All he really wanted was a pillow where he could lay his pounding head. "I appreciate you letting me crash at your apartment. I'm so sick of hotels. I should probably look into getting a place of my own again, but I hate paying for something I'll never use."
David slapped him on the back. "You look tired. Go ahead and get out of here. I know clubs aren't your thing." David glanced to the left, over Jacob's shoulder. "But if you could put your arm around my waist and pretend to be interested in me for about three seconds, I'd totally appreciate it."
Used to his cousin's odd ways, Jacob slid his arm around David's waist. Leaning over, he whispered into his cousin's ear, "I don't care who you're trying to attract, I'm not kissing you."
David burst out laughing. "Deal." After a moment, he shoved Jacob away. "He's not paying me any attention anyway."
It was probably for the best. David had an abysmal track record with men. Jacob had lost count of the number of men moving in and out of David's life. Luckily for Jacob, his cousin didn't currently have a live-in lover, so there was no one to object to him staying there for a few weeks.
"If you need a gimmick to get him to come over here, he isn't the one for you anyway."
"Easy for you to say." David rolled his eyes. "You just show up, and they trip over their tongues."
"Sometimes that makes it harder, not easier," Jacob confessed.
With the key in his pocket, he kissed his cousin's cheek and headed back through the mass of dancers, trying to limit the groping as much as possible. He never did get introduced to David's other friends. He wondered if they were all as bad as Shane.
Jacob spotted the exit sign glowing like a beacon, the door to freedom and migraine medicine almost in his grasp. A large man with dirty-blond hair stepped in front of Jacob, blocking his path.
"Hello, gorgeous," the man said with a creepy smile. It made Shane's leer look almost angelic in comparison.
"Hello." Jacob moved to go around the stranger, too tired to put up with anyone's shit. His flight from Paris had drained him, and he never did well with the time change. All he wanted was a nice soft bed, a fluffy pillow, and no more people trying to grab his ass.
The stranger clamped one hand on Jacob's shoulder, holding him in place. "Why don't you let me buy you a drink?"
Jacob shoved the man away. He really hoped he wasn't about to get into a fight. He didn't need any bruises for tomorrow's shoot. Stepping to the side to avoid the other man, he almost growled with frustration when the blond moved to block him, again. The stranger wrapped his meaty hand around Jacob's arm in a bruising hold.
"Think you're too good to have a drink with me?"
Shit
.
"No, man, I just need to get home. I've got a shoot tomorrow."
The big guy smiled, tightening his vise grip on Jacob's arm. "Great, you can take me with you. I'll make sure you get a good night's sleep."
Before Jacob could come back with a polite, but definite, no, a man even larger than the one attached to his arm ripped away the other man's hand.
"The man said no." The new guy's deep voice rumbled so low Jacob could have sworn he felt the vibration in his chest, rather than hearing it over the loud music. The new guy mumbled something indecipherable to the dirty-blond haired jerk. Jacob's assailant turned pale and rushed for the exit, trampling more than one too slow-to-move dancer.
Jacob found himself face to face with a big man in a tight t-shirt and painted on jeans. For a minute the lights in the club reflected off the other man's deep blue eyes and made them look like they were glowing, an eerie effect. Jacob shook off his nerves and held out his hand. If he weren't so damned tired, he'd offer to dance with the man before him. It wasn't every day someone so big and hot crossed his path. Most models Jacob worked with were in the tall and slim category. This man was in a category all his own, more predatory animal then slick fashion clotheshorse.
Yum.
"Thanks, man." Jacob smiled at his savior. "I'd hate to get punched in the face before a shoot. Photographers are notoriously grumpy at having to cover up blemishes."
* * * *
Guy Franks couldn't have said a word if his life depended on it. His visit to the nightclub had turned up nothing, as the victim's friend couldn't shed any new light on how the model ended up dead with no marks on his body. However, the man before him proved coming here wasn't a total loss. After two hundred and seventy-five years of searching, Guy had finally found his mate.
Although the man was ridiculously good looking, Guy was more attracted to the other man's blinding aura. His possessive side wanted to drag the stranger home and demand he never leave, but Guy knew there were criminal charges waiting in the wings if he tried that approach. As an investigating wizard and personal protector for the Wizard's Council, he'd vowed to uphold the law, not break it. This man made him want to bend the rules until they snapped.
"So you're a model?" That explained the man's easiness in his skin. Guy doubted all the staring in the bar even rated on the gorgeous man's radar.
"Yeah." Guy received a shy smile. He'd thought the man beautiful before, but now he glowed. Glowed like a star in the midnight sky, bright and breathtaking.
"I could take you home," Guy offered.
The smile vanished entirely, leaving Guy reeling from its loss.
"Thanks, but no thanks. I'm not the kind of guy who fucks at first meeting."
Guy watched in shock as the man of his dreams shoved past him and disappeared in the crowd. True, Guy had thought to take the gorgeous stud home and fuck his brains out, but to hear his man didn't have sex with just anyone increased his mate's attractiveness two hundred percent.
