A Model Romance (True Love Book 3) Read Online Free PDF

guys, close up. They’re usually much smaller than you’d think.
    “No problem at all. Are you hungry?”
    We head into the restaurant, a cute little steak place, and sit in the back. As expected, he watches his diet closely, so no wine, just one beer, and plenty of potatoes and protein.
    “I’m running in the morning, so I can justify the carbs. Do you workout or are you one of those naturally skinny tall girls?” he asks as he shovels a large bite of baked potato into his mouth. If a question like that came from anyone else on a first date, it would seem strange, but from him it seems perfectly normal.
    “A bit of both, I guess. I do workout, but it’s not my favorite pastime. I’m lucky that I’m tall so I can hide a few extra pounds from time to time. While I was modeling it was a constant struggle to workout with nothing in my stomach for fuel. That’s a terrible feeling. It’s taken me months to be able to confidently sit down and order a meal like this. I love the freedom.”
    “Body is still a temple, though, got to treat it like one,” he says as he puts one more giant bite into his mouth.
    Our conversation stays on this track for a while. I try to explain that while I understand the importance of exercise, I like not constantly stressing out about the way I look. I’ve been doing that most of my adolescent and adult life. He doesn’t seem to get it. He’s a very nice guy, but a little too obsessive for me. Of course, that doesn’t mean we have to end this night without some fun. You don’t go to Mt. Everest to build a house and stay forever. You go there, you climb it, enjoy the magnificence and then you go home. I have the Everest of men sitting in front of me, and I fully intend to climb. I might even have some fun at base camp first, you know, to acclimate myself.
    I listen intently to the merits of different protein powders before I take matters into my own hands. I kick off one of my shoes under the table, and begin to stroke his leg with my toes. He’s mid-bite of a piece of steak, and he chokes on it. His face turns red, and he swallows a large gulp of water to help it down. I scoot my chair in a little closer, and my foot makes it way up to his thigh. His damned muscle is so hard, I can’t even squeeze it, the best I can do is wiggle my toes for some stimulation. He moves his own chair in, and I lean my foot into his crotch. He’s hard, and his eyes roll back as I use my dexterous toes to fondle him.
    He waves down the waiter, and pays the check without looking at it. I slip my shoe back on, and we stand to leave. He’s in a compromised position, so he places his hands on my hips to use my body as a shield. Fortunately, the place isn’t busy so we bolt out without anyone except me noticing his huge erection, except me. My stomach is doing back flips, I’m so excited.
    We hop into his car, and he speeds around two corners. We’re at his place in no time, and he races around to my side of the car to open my door. So nice: I have a horny gentleman! He reaches into the car, and scoops me up into his arms. He kicks the car door closed and jumps up the small stoop in front of his place. He tosses me like a ragdoll over to one side of his body, as he fumbles with the keys to unlock the door. Without so much as a bobble he opens the door, closes it behind us and flips on a light. He carries me straight to the bedroom.
    Knowing that I’m not interested in him for a relationship is freeing in a way. I’m not fumbling over what to say, or whether he’ll call after this, I just want to screw his brains out. He’s a nice person, but our conversation over dinner was the dullest I’ve ever participated in. He doesn’t get out of the gym, or around women very often, it seems. I understand, it’s his job. He made the attempt to ask about me and my work, but everything led back to working out. I wonder if he’d be interested in just being fuck-buddies? Don’t people do that all the