Page 15 of Flawless

“Round two in the hotel?” I ask as I climb off him.

“You bet your sweet ass,” he says.

It takes us five minutes to get up to our hotel room. No sooner than the door closes, we’re pawing each other’s clothes off.

We don’t make it to the bedroom, but we drop right there on the entrance floor and fuck like animals in heat. Our screams and our moans are wild and loose.

We exchange kisses and bites, slaps and pinches, and thrusts and gyrations.

There’s no love between us. Although we call each other friends, there’s no friendship. There’s just this.

Hot fucking and satisfying each other’s needs.

When we’re finished, we make our way to the living room. Andre reaches inside his back pants pocket and removes his wallet.

Pulling a little baggie free, he says, “I’ve got a little something to celebrate tonight’s win.”

He winks at me, and I walk to where he sits on the couch. Sitting in his lap naked, I wait for him to form the powdery lines on the edge of the table.

I climb onto the table and begin to snort the lines he’s given me while he pours the rest on my ass cheeks and begins to inhale.

My pussy throbs with wanton need.

Every care that I’ve had, all the rumors about possibly losing my show, the incessant calls that I’ve ignored from my family all fall away.

There’s just Andre, me, and this.

4 – DANICA

“You need this time to get yourself together, Dani,” Jade says sternly through her clenched teeth as we pull off the highway.

“I can get myself together without doing it the way that you believe I need to do it.”

“Listen, honey, if you really want to show the network that you’re serious about this, trust me. I will never steer you wrong. I’ve had several clients with issues that needed to get help and—”

“I don’t have an issue, Jade.”

Jade swerves the car hard to the right, causing me to tilt sideways and bump my head against the window.

“Damn, Jade,” I complain, rubbing my head.

She pulls off the road and steers into a small office park that is empty because of the weekend.

Unbuckling her seatbelt, she pops the locks on the door and gets out. I watch as she paces madly back and forth in front of the car, with one hand on her hip and the other pointing in every direction.

She looks like a mad woman, and after a couple of minutes of this, I get out of the car.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask.

“You!” she says, widening her eyes and jabbing a finger in my direction.

“Me? What did I do?”

She laughs, shakes her head, and rolls her eyes. Crossing her arms over her chest, she walks close to me.

“I don’t believe you. You’re living the dream life that so many young ladies aspire to. You’ve had a stellar modeling career, had a few acting gigs, and sponsors out the wazoo. Now, you have your own daytime talk show, a beautiful home here in the Carolinas and another in L.A., and yet, you’re throwing it all away.”

“How am I throwing it all away?”

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