Page 65 of The Money Shot

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Page 65 of The Money Shot

“Oh, hush,” Nessa said, waving me off. “We’re just helping you.”

Lola clapped her hands together, her bangles jingling. “Alright, sugar, hop up on the table. Clothes off, sheet on. Let’s get started.”

I froze. “Wait, like… now?”

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “You wanna look fabulous, don’t you? For Jack and your fans?”

“I don’t…” My words trailed off as I realized there was no escape. I glanced around the room, hoping for a conveniently placed window or trapdoor. Nothing.

“C’mon, sweetie,” Nessa said, plopping down into a nearby chair like this was the best entertainment she’d had all week. “We don’t have all day.”

To my immense relief, Moira grabbed Lola by the arm. “Let’s give him a minute to get ready,” she said, tugging her out the door. “C’mon, you too Nessa.”

Nessa grumbled, then left the room with them.

The door clicked shut, and I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. My usual monthly barber shop visits didn’t prepare me for this level of mortification. But then a thought hit me like a lightning bolt. What if Jack saw me after this? Would he think I looked… better?

The thought was enough to push me into action. I stripped off my clothes in record time and scrambled onto the table, yanking the sheet up over my chest. I’d just managed to situate myself when the door opened again, and Lola swept back in, her arms full of supplies.

“Alright, let’s start with the hard part,” she said cheerfully, setting down a pot of what looked like melted caramel. “A bikini wax.”

I blinked at her, completely lost. “What exactly is a bikini wax?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she whipped back the sheet, leaving me exposed in a way that made me want to curl up and disappear. Before I could protest, she was spreading warm wax around my… well, there.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I yelped, trying to sit up. “What are you doing?!”

“Relax, honey,” she said, patting my thigh. “Women do this all the time. Now put your big boy panties on.”

Before I could argue, she pressed a strip of cloth onto the wax and gave it a firm rub. I barely had time to brace myself before she ripped it off in one swift motion.

“Fuucckkk!!!”

From the other side of the door, I heard Nessa’s voice. “She’s doing the bikini wax first. You know, I didn’t take Liam for a screamer.”

Lola gave me a sympathetic pat on the newly tender area. “See? Not so bad.”

“Not so bad?!” I gasped, clutching the sheet. “Are you kidding?”

“Big boy, remember?” she grinned and grabbed another strip. “One more to go.”

“No, no, no—” My protests were cut off by the second rip, which made me see actual stars.

Lola worked with the precision of an assassin, systematically obliterating every hair in her path. I gritted my teeth through it, trying not to think about how my dignity was being shredded faster than my hair.

When she moved to my eyebrows, I thought I might finally catch a break. But no. The second the first strip ripped off, I let out a startled grunt, tears springing to my eyes. “Are eyebrows supposed to hurt this much?”

“Beauty is pain, sugar,” Lola said, wielding the tweezers now. She yanked out a rogue hair with the same enthusiasm she’d had for the waxing. “But don’t worry, you’re gonna look fabulous.”

I blinked back tears and tried to ignore the blazing inferno that had taken up residence in my crotch. Then I heard Moira’s voice from behind the closed door.

“Hey, remember that video of him and that guy?” she said, her voice practically dripping with amusement.

“You mean Jack,” Nessa replied.

My stomach clenched. Oh no.

“You know,” Moira continued, “when he’s on his knees doing—”




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