Dr. Daddy's Virgin

"Really?" Mick's face lit up. Somehow I had been hoping he would be jealous and want me to save myself only for him, but he wasn't like that. He'd prostitute me out if he thought he could get money for it, only I wouldn't let him.

"Yeah, my bikini top fell off right in front of everybody. It was so embarrassing; I wanted to die."

"No, baby. This is a good thing. Just wait and see. I bet you get called back, and when you do, make sure to give them all the nudity they want."

"I don't think they'll call. After my top fell off, I accidentally knocked over the motorcycle I was supposed to be posing with. I probably broke it. The only call I'll be getting will be from the legal department billing me for the damage."

"No, you'll get the job, and then you'll know I was right. Just wait and see." Mick jutted out his chin confidently.

Just then my cell phone started to ring, and we both stared at it. The caller ID said Speed Motorcycles, Inc.

Chapter Three

Ethan

"I want this one." I slapped my hand over the picture of Kayla Brandt, and slid it across the boardroom table into the hands of Keith.

"No way, forget it. She has no experience. You saw her up there; she was a damn mess. She even knocked over the bike."

"That's just because she was upset her top fell off. Your production assistant doesn't know how to tie a knot."

"And, you don't know how to run a marketing campaign. This girl will cost us $10,000 in production costs just teaching her how to pose on the bike properly. We need a professional who knows what the hell she's doing. Like this one. She's perfect."

Keith slid the picture of a dyed-blonde with fake lips across the table to me, and I grimaced. "No. I like Kayla."

"The klutz? Forget her."

"That's the thing. I can't forget her. She has a quality to her that really sticks in my mind."

"Yeah, that's because her top fell off and you got to see her tits. She probably did it on purpose trying to get recognized. You won't believe how many models come to these auditions and try something like that."

"No, it's more than that. She's fresh, clean, pure. She's not jaded yet by this city and pumped up with chemicals, spray tans, and plastic surgery. She's a real, all-American girl, and I want her to be the face of our new ad campaign."

"She does have a certain charisma," one of the board members said, staring at her picture.

"She's very sweet, pretty, and charming," an assistant chimed in.

"Very girl-next door. Women will want to be her and guys will want to fuck her," Keith conceded. "All right. You're the CEO; if she's the girl you want, then she's the girl we'll get. I'll call her myself."

"No, let me do it. I rarely get to deliver good news to anybody, and after having to fire the manager in our Tulsa distribution center this morning, I could use it."

"You're the boss." Keith handed me her file as everyone started to leave the room.

"You might try remembering that sometime. I won't forget that comment you made; I don't know how to run an ad campaign? You can count on me to be involved in this one every step of the way just to show you that I'm the boss for a reason."

I slapped Keith on the back as we both chuckled. He was a good friend of mine, and I liked having someone in the company with the guts to stand up to me and tell me what they really thought. It challenged me and helped me to keep the company strong, unlike being surrounded by annoying yes-men. Still, there was a grain of truth in what I'd said, and I could see from the look in Keith's eyes that he knew it.

I carried Kayla Brandt's file back into my office and sat at my desk. I felt strangely nervous about calling her. My palms were actually sweaty as I dialed her number, and I could hear my heart pounding as it rang. What would I say to her when she picked up? I couldn't wait to hear the sound of her gentle voice again.

The anticipation was killing me as her phone rang for what seemed like forever before she finally answered.

"Kayla, this is Ethan Colson with Speed Motorcycles. I want to discuss some things with you. Can you come to my office tomorrow at noon?”

"Certainly. I'll be there." She sounded shocked, and I couldn't help but smile. She was so unpretentious; I could read her every emotion and could even picture the expression on her pretty face.

She had the biggest blue eyes I'd ever seen, like liquid pools on a tropical beach. Her skin was creamy perfection, and her lips were like the petals of a delicate pink flower. When she smiled, her entire face lit up, and when she laughed, it was like music. Most of all, I kept picturing those magnificent breasts of hers. The nipples had been taut, rosy nubs in perfectly round areolas at the center of wonderful plump, full breasts that jiggled and begged to be touched. I wondered what it would feel like to hold them in my hands and squeeze and fondle them, to brush my thumbs across the nubs of her nipples and taste them with my lips. Yes, she was the perfect model for next month's magazine cover, and the one every man would be obsessed with, just as I already was.

Suddenly, my assistant came into my office and set a stack of papers on my desk.