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He’d compare them to sisters, but that would creep him out too much. He did have to fuck them, after all.
It was more like having a pack of friends with benefits. Women he enjoyed sleeping with but wouldn’t seriously consider dating. Coworkers with benefits? Did that apply when the benefits were really the job?
Well, all good jobs came with benefits.
Ethan kissed Cami on each cheek, her body glitter leaving a fine sheen over the front of his shirt.
“Cami, this is Sam.”
To her credit, Sam didn’t look the least bit wide-eyed or shocked by Cami’s appearance. She shook the older woman’s hand and submitted to a big squeeze that smushed Cami’s bosom against Sam’s.
As they moved down the red carpet, Ethan stopped periodically to pause for cameramen, posing with his more popular costars. For the most part Sam stuck by his side, but when someone would call for him to stand with another girl, she would release his hand and step out of frame without being asked.
It didn’t matter where she stood though, she was always a part of his orbit. He could feel the pull of her even with others around him, and whenever the photographers were done with him, he would gravitate back to her. A few intrepid reporters asked for her name so she could be appropriately labeled in photos, and he could tell they thought he was yanking their chain when he introduced her as Samantha Hart.
They were almost to the end of the red carpet, and in that space of a few dozen feet he’d introduced Sam to girls in sheer see-through gowns, with each one of them displaying a neckline more plunging than the last.
“I’ve never seen so many fake boobs,” Sam confessed when they had a lull between poses. “I’m feeling a little inadequate.” She laughed, her hands hovering over her chest as if to mimic where her tits ought to be.
Ethan pressed a kiss to her temple and resisted the urge to grope her in public. The behavior wouldn’t have been scandalous considering where they were, but in spite of Sam’s oral attentions in the limo, he suspected she wouldn’t like him to fondle her in front of photographers. He could feel her cheeks lift in a smile when he pressed his lips to her ear and said, “The only way you could improve your tits is by letting me have access to them more often.” He nipped her earlobe, and they continued down the gauntlet until a shout brought them both to a dead stop.
“Samantha,” someone called. “Samantha Hart, look over here.”
Sam’s head pivoted in the direction of the request, and Ethan trailed her gaze. They both saw the other woman at the same time, but Ethan processed who she was before Sam did.
The woman wore a ruffled yellow dress that was so short her butt cheeks hung out the bottom, and was cut so low in the front her enhanced chest was barely contained. She was tan to the point of absurdity, the orangey-brown tone that even a week in real sunlight couldn’t create.
Men with cameras bombarded her with shouts for attention, and she obliged each request, turning around so they could get a good rear view, even bending over to flash the small swath of material covering her pussy and casting the men a coy look.
From where he stood with Sam there was no mistaking the loopy glaze in Kelly’s eyes, and the way she wobbled on her platform heels was a dead giveaway that she was strung out. Judging by the smirk and the way she stared adoringly at the press, it was a pretty safe bet she was coked out of her skull. Kelly loved attention on a good day, but when she was high she needed it. It fed her demanding ego and kept her satisfied in a way no man could.
She turned to show a side profile, and that’s when she spotted Ethan.
Her expression faltered for a moment, not into guilt but confusion. It would be a cold day in hell when Kelly felt guilt while she was stoned, but some part of her obviously recognized that she should feel bad for running into Ethan like this.
She stumbled a half step but regained her balance. The cameramen followed her gaze to Ethan, and the shouts became cacophonous.
“Ethan! Samantha! Can we get you two together for a few shots? Ethan! You don’t mind, do you, sweetheart?” This latter must have been directed to his Sam, because she disentangled herself from him and took a step off to the side. But there was no missing the measured way she watched Kelly. He tried to hold on to Sam, but Kelly was soon at his side, draping over him like a blanket on a clothesline.
“Oh my God, Ethan, it’s so good to see you.” She tried to kiss him on the mouth, but he turned his head, giving her only his cheek. Even that felt too personal. He’d let some of the other girls press friendly pecks on his lips, but it was different with Kelly. He was pissed at her for the trouble she’d gotten him into, and he wasn’t in a position to tell her that with a hundred people watching them and filming the whole thing.
He took her by the elbow to steady her and angled them both towards the reporters, twisting his mouth into a tight smile. All the while his teeth were gritted together so hard he thought he might pop his jaw.
When the photographers were satisfied, he let her go, but before she could swish off he leaned in and said, “Where’s my money, Kelly?”
She gazed at him with innocent eyes that didn’t look at all convincing behind the false lashes and glittery eyeshadow. “What?”
“I have Julian riding my ass to repay that loan by tomorrow.”
“What loan?”
“Are you out of your goddamn mind? You can’t be that high. I need that money.”
Kelly staggered backwards a step so he would need to speak louder if they were going to continue talking, and he didn’t want anyone to hear what he had to say. Especially not Sam.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kelly said. “I don’t owe Julian any money.”
Ethan stared at her, trying to rein in his expression but failing hard as his mouth fell slack. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
