Drop Dead Beautiful Read Free Page A

cool,” she said, acting shy—as if his cock hadn’t been in her mouth minutes before.
    “Wait here,” he instructed sternly. “I’ll be right back.”
    When Billy had first arrived in Hollywood, he’d called women “ma’am,” and been full of respect and good manners. Stardom had gotten him over that particular hump, although he still had a chivalrous streak.
    He darted into his house through sliding glass doors, feeling ever so slightly guilty on account of the fact that he had a girlfriend—a gorgeous, famous movie star thirteen years his senior—and if she ever found out that he wasn’t exactly Joe-faithful, she’d be well and truly pissed. But hey, a blow job wasn’t cheating—everyone knew that. Jeez— President Clinton had declared it wasn’t sex on national TV. How could anyone argue with that?
    Ramona, his Hispanic housekeeper, was singing to herself in the kitchen, quite oblivious to the goings-on out by the pool. Kev, his assistant/best friend from the old days, was on the loose somewhere, running errands or picking up girls. He’d certainly get off on this one.
    Billy rifled through the stuff on the coffee table in his den and located a stack of glossy eight-by-tens mixed up with unopened bills, pornographic fan mail, a half-smoked joint, well-thumbed car magazines, and an empty candy box. He grabbed a pen, hurriedly scrawled his signature on the photo, and raced back outside, eager to get her off the premises.
    The young girl had divested herself of her cut-offs and tank, and was swimming bare-assed naked in his pool.
    Shit! What was he supposed to do now?
    “Hey,” he said, chewing on his thumbnail.
    “Didn’t think you’d mind,” she responded nonchalantly.
    Well, I do , he thought sourly.
    “Uh … okay,” he said, still chewing. “But I gotta take off any minute, so you’re gonna hafta haul your hot little ass outta there.”
    “How about you getting in?” she suggested, becomingbolder by the minute. “It’s all warm an’ wet, you won’t be disappointed.”
    She flipped onto her back, floating in his azure pool, her small nipples erect and disturbingly tempting.
    He contemplated this juicy prize, there for the taking. She had a flat stomach, a huge bush of wiry pubic hair—which he found quite sexy because shaved pussy was all the rage in Hollywood—and those long, sexy legs.
    Familiar stirrings down below, even though only moments before he’d experienced an extremely satisfactory orgasm.
    What the hell, he’d nail her in the pool, then hustle her out of there before she knew it.
    After all, what Venus didn’t know …
    “Where’s Billy?” Alex Woods demanded of Maggie, his personal assistant, a tall woman of Native American descent with long black hair scraped back into a ponytail and strong, almost manly features.
    They were standing next to a wooded area several miles outside of L.A. shooting Alex’s current movie, Kill , a violent thriller.
    Maggie sensed an outburst coming on. She was well aware that as a director Alex Woods was an Oscar-winning genius, and yet as a man he could be a nightmare. When things were not to his liking, everyone had to watch out— including her. She often wondered how his Asian lawyer girlfriend, Ling, put up with him.
    “He’s on his way,” she assured him in a calm voice.
    “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Alex snapped, rubbing his hands together. “His call was for three, and it’s now three forty-five.”
    “I know,” Maggie said, remaining calm.
    “So get in touch with his driver and tell the asshole to put his foot down.”
    “Billy refused to use his driver,” Maggie explained. “He insisted on driving himself.”
    “What kind of shit is that?” Alex screamed, suddenlylosing it. “The insurance forbade it. D’you hear me, Maggie? They forbade that he drove himself to any of the locations. You know that.”
    “Yes, I do,” Maggie responded in a quiet voice, because having worked with Alex for quite