The very last thing that Christine Hill expected was the exponential success of Mötley Crüe-the band she loved to hate.
And she never would've surmised that she'd be dragged-kicking and fucking screaming, by the nape of her neck-along for the wilde...
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Warning(s): mentions of drug abuse
Nikki was right.
I mean, he was right a considerable amount of the time. But that thing he said about Sharise and Heather not actually being my friends, just that they're Vince and Tommy's girls who'll be replaced when they, inevitably, get bored of screwing them...yeah, that. He was right about that.
The second part, he might've been a little bit off the mark with, but the first part. Yep.
They weren't my friends. Heather wasn't my friend. Sharise wasn't my friend. They were just my husband's band mate's girlfriends. They were nothing to me.
That's what I kept telling myself anyways.
"Oh my god," I mouthed as I checked myself out in the mirror of the bathroom, shaking because I finally realized how stupid I'd been.
Before unlocking the door and facing the aftermath of my self-indulgent, idiotic act of gluttony, I splashed water on my face and reached for the baggie of coke that rested next to my makeup bag. I fucking needed it.
Railing six lines, back to back, wasn't how I had planned on spending my Friday night--well maybe it was, just under different circumstances--but it was something I was going to have to get along with.
I had fucked up to a substantial degree.
I slipped myself into the dress that I had, conveniently, left draped on the towel rail before Nikki and I headed down to the party, and smeared a coat of gloss against my swollen lips so it didn't seem as if I had spent the last forty-five minutes kissing and sucking the cock of a man who was getting married in the morning.
Yep. I fucked up. Big time.
"Tommy, you need to get out," I ordered while pulling a comb through my hair, "if Heather notices that you're missing, I am going to be the first person she comes to. And if Nikki notices that I'm missing, this is going to be the first place that he checks."
"You're stressing," he got out of bed--the bed that Iwas staying in with my husband--and picked his pants up off the floor, "don't worry too much."
"No, no. I'm gonna worry a fuck ton," I told him, "Tommy, you are getting married to my best friend tomorrow! You are my husband's best friend! And we just had sex--again! Are you not seeing the problem here?!"
"Of course I'm seeing the problem, Chris. But it's too late. The damage has been done."
"You're telling me. My pussy is throbbing," I mentioned through a laugh, "but seriously. This can't go back to anybody. None of them. Not even Vince," I narrowed my eyes at him, "because I know you told him. Everything."
"He forced it out of me," I raised a brow, "okay, he didn't. But I had to tell somebody, Chris. I can't keep secrets like this."
Slinging Nikki's jacket over both of my shoulders, I shrugged, "you're gonna have to. I'm sorry but, unless you want to ruin two marriages, you'll keep your mouth shut. Not even Vince gets the privilege of knowing that I sucked your dick."
