Page 41 of Wardrobe Malfunction

Leaving her in just the bra she’s wearing.

And Natasha with only a nude patch covering the part that no other man but her husband should be seeing.

I really fucking hate this part. More than I hate having to get naked myself. I hate having my friend out here, naked with pretty much everything on show.

But then she’s not alone.

We’re in this together.

But Natasha, being the professional she is, stays in character.

Lexi reaches up, hand going to the back of Drew’s head, and drags him to her mouth, kissing him.

And then they’re fucking. Well, Natasha and I are fake fucking. But for Drew’s and Lexi’s characters, they’re going at it, right here on the bar in this Vegas nightclub, with everyone watching.

And no one stops them.

Because he’s Drew Asher, and he does what the fuck he wants.

Unlike me. Who can’t fuck anyone until this film is done.

Lexi is moaning like it’s the best sex she’s ever had. Drew is pounding into her. His head comes up from her shoulder, and his eyes meet with Charly’s.

For a brief moment, I forgot she was there.

Fuck.

I need to look away. Back to Natasha—Lexi, whoever the fuck.

But I can’t take my eyes off Charly.

The look in her eyes…she looks turned on.

And it’s turning me on.

Then, she bites her lip.

Jesus.

I groan, closing my eyes.

I need to get out of my head—or get Charly out of my head.

Drew.

He opens his eyes, but when he looks down, he’s not staring at Lexi.

I’m staring at Charly.

What the actual fuck?

I shut my eyes tight.

Opening them back up, I see Natasha.

But I need to see Lexi.

Fuck, my head is so messed up right now.