and tried to get a look at what the bartender was wearing below the waist. When she moved, Erin could see that she had on extremely short cut-off jeans and cowboy boots with spurs.
Adams handed her a screwdriver and as they walked further into the room, Erin watched some of the women on the sofas, transfixed by their kissing. One in particular caught her attention, a woman engrossed in a threesome, two others licking and sucking on her neck.
Astonished, she asked, “Isn’t that—”
“Yes.” Adams sounded completely nonchalant about having a prominent Hollywood actress making out in her club.
Desire and disbelief collided in Erin’s veins. It had long been rumored that the woman was a lesbian, but it had never been publicly confirmed.
“Would you like to meet her?” Liz offered, gently steering Erin over.
Not wanting to interrupt the kissing trio, Erin said, “No, it’s okay.”
But Adams forged ahead. “Angie?” The woman continued kissing, oblivious to their presence. More loudly, Adams repeated, “Angie.”
Angie put up a halfhearted struggle to dislodge her lips from one her partners’, but then returned to kissing the woman on her left, their lips connecting with shorter, stronger pulls.
“I want you meet someone,” Adams said, this time more forcefully.
Angie seemed to pick up on the stronger tone, and pulled away from her kissing.
“This is Katherine.” Adams gently pulled Erin forward.
Angie pried herself up from the couch and smoothed down her deep brown leather pants. She wore a very thin white tank top, showing off her ample, unharnessed breasts.
Embarrassed at interrupting the famous woman, and feeling like a little kid meeting her favorite movie star, Erin said, “I’m sorry. I—”
“Hi, Katherine, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Angie smiled a thousand-watt smile, her inviting lips bruised and swollen from kissing. She placed a hand on Erin’s shoulder, halfway hugging her.
Completely lost for words, Erin felt Angie’s breast against her own and mumbled, “I’m a…a huge fan.” She immediately felt stupid at having said it aloud. But Angie didn’t seem to notice.
“Well, it looks to me like you should be the one in pictures,” the actress said, her eyes lingering on Erin’s lips.
“Yes, she is beautiful, isn’t she?” Adams said. “We were just going to go have a drink.”
“Maybe I can join you.” Angie’s eyes never wavered from Erin’s face.
“Some other time,” Adams said, and led Erin away.
At a large metal door, she typed in a number code on a keypad and the door clicked open.
“What’s this?” Erin asked.
“My private lair.” Adams smiled at her.
Erin hesitated momentarily, gathering her thoughts. Meeting Angie Hartman had thrown her for a loop, leaving her almost giddy with excitement.
The room they entered was large and spacious, containing a lounge area with furniture in light browns and grays and leading into an adjoining room with a king-sized bed. The two vast windows Erin had noticed from the outside provided an incredible view of the Valle Luna nightline.
A bank of security monitors lined the wall behind the vast bar. She counted fifteen, each capturing a different view of the club, the parking lot, and main entrance. Adams had spotted her before she’d even set foot in the club.
“That’s quite a setup you have there.” Erin pretended to sip her drink. It looked and smelled like a screwdriver, but she didn’t want to risk it. Not yet.
“Security is important to me.”
“Don’t you mean voyeurism?”
Adams raised an eyebrow, but didn’t respond. “I hate these Wild West parties,” she said after a moment. “But my friends from Philly love them.” Capturing Erin’s gaze, she began unbuttoning her shirt. “They all think we ride around on horseback and eat tumbleweed.” The white shirt parted and Erin looked away, not yet ready to see the body underneath. Adams bent and pulled off her boots, tossing them
Adams handed her a screwdriver and as they walked further into the room, Erin watched some of the women on the sofas, transfixed by their kissing. One in particular caught her attention, a woman engrossed in a threesome, two others licking and sucking on her neck.
Astonished, she asked, “Isn’t that—”
“Yes.” Adams sounded completely nonchalant about having a prominent Hollywood actress making out in her club.
Desire and disbelief collided in Erin’s veins. It had long been rumored that the woman was a lesbian, but it had never been publicly confirmed.
“Would you like to meet her?” Liz offered, gently steering Erin over.
Not wanting to interrupt the kissing trio, Erin said, “No, it’s okay.”
But Adams forged ahead. “Angie?” The woman continued kissing, oblivious to their presence. More loudly, Adams repeated, “Angie.”
Angie put up a halfhearted struggle to dislodge her lips from one her partners’, but then returned to kissing the woman on her left, their lips connecting with shorter, stronger pulls.
“I want you meet someone,” Adams said, this time more forcefully.
Angie seemed to pick up on the stronger tone, and pulled away from her kissing.
“This is Katherine.” Adams gently pulled Erin forward.
Angie pried herself up from the couch and smoothed down her deep brown leather pants. She wore a very thin white tank top, showing off her ample, unharnessed breasts.
Embarrassed at interrupting the famous woman, and feeling like a little kid meeting her favorite movie star, Erin said, “I’m sorry. I—”
“Hi, Katherine, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Angie smiled a thousand-watt smile, her inviting lips bruised and swollen from kissing. She placed a hand on Erin’s shoulder, halfway hugging her.
Completely lost for words, Erin felt Angie’s breast against her own and mumbled, “I’m a…a huge fan.” She immediately felt stupid at having said it aloud. But Angie didn’t seem to notice.
“Well, it looks to me like you should be the one in pictures,” the actress said, her eyes lingering on Erin’s lips.
“Yes, she is beautiful, isn’t she?” Adams said. “We were just going to go have a drink.”
“Maybe I can join you.” Angie’s eyes never wavered from Erin’s face.
“Some other time,” Adams said, and led Erin away.
At a large metal door, she typed in a number code on a keypad and the door clicked open.
“What’s this?” Erin asked.
“My private lair.” Adams smiled at her.
Erin hesitated momentarily, gathering her thoughts. Meeting Angie Hartman had thrown her for a loop, leaving her almost giddy with excitement.
The room they entered was large and spacious, containing a lounge area with furniture in light browns and grays and leading into an adjoining room with a king-sized bed. The two vast windows Erin had noticed from the outside provided an incredible view of the Valle Luna nightline.
A bank of security monitors lined the wall behind the vast bar. She counted fifteen, each capturing a different view of the club, the parking lot, and main entrance. Adams had spotted her before she’d even set foot in the club.
“That’s quite a setup you have there.” Erin pretended to sip her drink. It looked and smelled like a screwdriver, but she didn’t want to risk it. Not yet.
“Security is important to me.”
“Don’t you mean voyeurism?”
Adams raised an eyebrow, but didn’t respond. “I hate these Wild West parties,” she said after a moment. “But my friends from Philly love them.” Capturing Erin’s gaze, she began unbuttoning her shirt. “They all think we ride around on horseback and eat tumbleweed.” The white shirt parted and Erin looked away, not yet ready to see the body underneath. Adams bent and pulled off her boots, tossing them
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