Reed
“SO, YOU’RE REALLY GETTING married?” pouted Sherry, a pretty redhead I’d dated a few times in my early twenties.
“Ah, yeah,” I said, trying to get out of the corner she’d backed me into. Thank goodness Sela was too busy schmoozing with some of the producers Jack had invited, in another area of the house. She was obviously still trying to get into the movies.
“Too bad,” she smiled, trailing a long red nail along my forearm. “I’m so damn horny tonight and my husband is out of town.”
“Well, I’m sure there are plenty of available men here would –”
It was then that I noticed her moving down the staircase.
Sinclair.
Jesus.
She was a vision of beauty in a red dress that hugged every curve of her voluptuous body. With every step she took, a flash of thigh peeked out from a slit in the
