Falling Down(8)

By: Anne Mercier

Spenser grins then closes his lips and pretends to turn a lock and throw away the key.

"Secrets. I promised."

"You know me, Spense. I'm going to go crazy not knowing."

"We'll just have to distract you. Let's get started."


An hour later we're made up and my hair is primped and curled and slightly sprayed. That's what I love most about Spenser, he doesn't spray an entire can of lacquer hairspray onto whatever style he gives us, and what he does spray is unscented for which I'm very grateful. The scented stuff makes me sneeze.

"Ah, here's Gina. Wardrobe time!" Spenser claps. "I can't wait to see what they've chosen."

"Let's go, ladies," Gina says with a smile. She leads us over to the wardrobe area and immediately heads for the racks of clothes.

Turns out we aren't going to be rockstar hookers after all. They dress me in a red corset top that ends with red ruffles just above my belly button. The straps are a bit wider than spaghetti straps. Laces thread through on the side and behind the laces is a lacy, see-through fabric. What I love about it the most is the bustline. It's white with red polka dots which contrasts nicely with the red straps and bottom as well as the red ruffles that line the top bustline. All in all it's pretty conservative. My boobs are, of course, pushed up to within an inch of their life giving me some pretty rocking cleavage for someone who only wears a C-cup. The ruffles seem to enhance the boobage which I think is pretty awesome. They pair the top with a pair of super tight white crop pants that stop just below the knee. With the pants being white, it brings forth one of my worst enemies.

I hold the pants up to Spenser and he raises a brow.

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"Luce, if the worst of your wardrobe is the white thong that you'll be wearing underneath your other clothing, don't bitch about it. They could have you out there in a bikini that is the equivalent to three triangles and a few pieces of thread."

"Valid." What can I say to that? He's right. I suck it up and head behind the dressing screen with Gina.

"Can I keep these shoes?" I ask Gina. They're a pair of three-inch criss-cross, strappy, ankle-wrap sandals that are amazingly comfortable and easy to walk in.

"You can keep anything you want. You know Cage's policy."

Yay! Shoes!

She finishes accessorizing me and Spenser runs up and spritzes me with my favorite perfume.

"Why the perfume?"

"Trust me. You'll be glad I spritzed you when you see who's here," he sing-songs.

"We're here for a video not a date, Spense."

He just tsks. Who the hell could it be? There are a handful of bands that would elicit that sort of reaction and I just can't imagine any of them wanting me and Sera for their video. We're conservative compared to a lot of the models and actresses who do videos which puts us on many of the bands short list.

Sera steps out from behind her screen wearing a spandex-type black dress with short cap sleeves, black stockings with a seam running up the back of her legs, and a pair of black lace overlay peep toe pumps. Her brown hair is swept up into a fancy up-do with curling tendrils framing her face.


She laughs. "What's your problem?"

"First, I've got a thong up my ass crack and you know how I love that."

She laughs again, louder.

"Second, I hate you. I hate that your ass is smaller than mine."

"Truthfully, Luce, I should be calling you a bitch and hating on your because I envy your curves."

"You can have them."


If only.

We head back to where Spenser is to chat him up a bit but he and the girls are busy.

"Hmm. We've got thirty minutes to kill. What do you want to do?"

"After I put your lipstick on," Spenser says, throwing a cape over my shoulders and chest before dabbing my lips an amazing shade of red.

"Yeah, after that."

"Let's go check out the set. Maybe we can figure it out," Sera says adjusting her dress as Simone steps up to whip a cape over her and uses a slightly darker shade of red on Sera's lips."

"You two are gorgeous and those boys are going to swallow their fucking tongues when they see you, aren't they girls?"

They all murmur their agreement.

Also By Anne Mercier

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