The Cover Model Read Free

see the guy strip down and run my hands over his body…"
    Fancy rolled her eyes. So much for getting any rest as long as horny and lustful women overran the hotel and a hunky cover man stayed next door. She might as well have rented a room at a sex convention.
    With a sigh, she turned away, unable to vanquish the image from her mind. Shaking her head, she walked through the crowd, dodging excited ladies along the way.
    In all honesty, she had never really picked up the addiction to romance novels, leaning more toward non-fiction and biographies. The adult fairy tales seemed too redundant, too focused on sex. Additionally, her busy life pushed lighthearted reading down the priority pole, low enough that she rarely picked up even a magazine since she could spend the same time studying and learning, helping advance herself in her chosen career. She had lofty goals for her life, starting with climbing the ladder at her present laboratory, winning several awards, with the Nobel Prize as the ultimate dream. No one accomplished such without going the extra mile and devoting their free time to further education.
    "Miss? Oh, Miss?"
    Pausing, she glanced to a nearby table.
    "Would you like to try a penis pacifier?"
    Fancy's mouth fell open as her gaze followed the woman's hands to the small pacifiers in a rainbow of colors spread out on a sheet of white paper. A couple of seconds passed before she connected the items to the women's words. Sure enough, the plastic pacifiers had a penis-shaped sucker on the end, each about three inches long and as round as a quarter. Surprisingly, they were quite detailed, resembling a small, erect, circumcised penis.
    How in the world? On second thought, she didn't really want to know.
    "Ummm… no. No thanks." The words squeaked out as she stared in stunned amazement at the blatantly suggestive objects. Even as she watched, a middle-aged redhead handed over cash and picked out a blue one. Plucking it off the display table, she removed the plastic cover and stuck it in her mouth.
    Oh, good grief. I am at a sex convention.
    Her face burned immediately. Scooting around a group of visitors, she set a rapid pace down the hall, heading to the conference room and the comfortable world of human genetics.
    * * * *
    Rubbing her tired eyes, Fancy ambled down the long corridor, intent on simply heading back to her room, changing clothes, and sitting around the pool for an hour or two so her mind could just vegetate after too many meetings and hours of presentations.
    She had intended to start the morning off listening to a few presenters, then finally get through hers. The lunch break had been to follow immediately after, giving her ample opportunity to drop her items off in her room, change clothes, find some food, then visit the spa for some rest and relaxation.
    That plan flew out the window when she discovered, much to her embarrassment and chagrin, the bald-headed man, who had opened his door and stared at her as she argued over the voyeur label, happened to be chairing this particular get-together. He directed several scowls and frowns in her direction throughout the day, as if weighing her professionalism compared to the potential kinky peeping tom. She read the censure in his facial expression, sat up straight in her chair, and listened to every last word for the entire eight hours for fear he would notice her absence and chalk it up to distasteful and scandalous reasons. A definite no-no in the Good Old Boy system of cutting edge genetic research. While more women entered the profession, the vast majority were men. Some of those held antiquated views on women in the workplace, particularly their workplace. She would know. She had fought against the system her entire career.
    Giggling caught her attention. Looking up, she saw a couple of women dressed in a full-body suit of tights complete with wings on their back. One was radiant in bright pink while the other wore royal blue. Both chattered away,