EroticTakeover by Tina Donahue Page A

the
Internet for a good laugh.
    Jodi’s hands trembled as she cleaned up their breakfast
stuff, putting the food in the fridge or on the counter. After dumping the used
plates and utensils, she sagged in her chair.
    The front door swung open. In came Hilary and Cait, arms
wrapped around each other’s waists, lips locked. After a noisy kiss, punctuated
with breathless moans, they both inclined their heads to Jodi in greeting.
    Jodi dipped hers right back.
    Cait smacked Hilary’s butt. “Have a great day.”
    Giggling, Hilary wound her arm around Cait’s neck and went
at her again. A stranger would have thought that several continents would be
separating them today rather than a few feet in this studio.
    Models arrived next, ditching their clothes, ignoring Jodi
except when they had to check in. After what Mac had told her, Jodi found
herself less awestruck and more critical as she examined the babes. She looked
for telltale scars from liposuction, breast implants, whether they’d had their
ears pinned back, their noses rearranged.
    Either she needed new glasses or they were still as perfect
as she’d first thought.
    With envious confidence, Mac strode past her desk and joined
the others.
    “Hey, baby,” Willow purred to him. “Thanks.” She planted a
wet one right on Mac’s mouth.
    Jodi’s heart caught. She leaned up to see if he was
returning Willow’s kiss then decided she didn’t want to know. Turning to her
screen, Jodi tried to concentrate on the text but couldn’t. Visions of Willow
kept dancing in her head. She was five-ten with pert boobs and a perfect ass.
Her fair skin was ivory, her Eurasian features exquisite. She wore her straight
black hair Cleopatra-style with full bangs.
    “Ah, welcome,” Mac finally said to her. “What did I do?”
    “The fruit, bagels and cream cheese. It was so sweet of you
to have your girl get that for us.”
    Jodi gritted her teeth.
    “Actually, that stuff’s mine,” Mac said. “Don’t touch it.”
    Silence fell over the room except for the booming rap tune
one of them had put on. Jodi chanced a look. The models were exchanging
surprised glances at Mac’s harsh tone. Cait was setting up the shoot. Hilary
messed with her trays of makeup. Mac returned the remaining bagels to the
kitchen.
    When he came out, Jodi tried to catch his eye to thank him
for keeping their time together special but he got right down to business with
the others, explaining the scene he wanted to create.
    For hours, he worked the ladies, finally breaking for a late
lunch. As the models told Jodi what to get them from the organic place, Mac
went into his office and locked his door again. When she returned a short time
later, he wasn’t sitting on the edge of her desk, waiting for her as he had
been yesterday.
    She went to the center of the room and glanced down the hall
at his office. He still had his door closed.
    “Ah, hon, we’re over here,” Willow said.
    She and the other two models reclined on the sofa. One of
them was blonde, like Krista but more delicate in appearance, her fragile
beauty almost unreal. The last model, a lovely Hispanic with chestnut hair and
olive skin, had her iPhone glued to her ear.
    Jodi hauled the bags to them.
    “Get us some napkins,” Willow said. “I saw plates in the
kitchen too. We’ll need some of—“
    “Those are Mac’s,” Jodi interrupted. “Don’t touch them.”
    Willow blinked. Jodi’s phone rang. She hurried to her desk
to answer it. “Callaghan Studios.”
    “Hi, this is Stan over at Morris Motors. I’d like to speak
to Jodi Bishop.”
    Aw god, her car. She’d forgotten about it. “I’m Jodi. Did
you find out what’s wrong?”
    “Sure did.” For the next several minutes, he cataloged the
problems.
    Jodi’s legs finally gave out when he gave her the estimate.
    “Are you sure?” she asked, slumped in her chair. “That seems
so high.”
    “It needs a lot of work, ma’am.”
    There was a loud clang in the background, as though