Now Candy Mullender wrapped herself in a fresh towel, tossing the damp one into a hamper, and stepped into the sitting room of the dressing facility.

Lee Ashley was there waiting on the sofa, a drink in hand, a cigarette dangling from his sensuous mouth. He played her leading man in most of her movies and was the man she was most involved with in her private life as well, for publicity sake, and he was good at these things. A young man, in his early twenties, with dark-chestnut hair that hung just below the collar of his turtle-neck shirt, he had a sardonic expression. Nothing ever seemed to bother Lee. He had all the women he could use, made too much money, and was too handsome. He was tall, over six feet, lean but muscular, and supremely confident of himself. His facial features were rugged without being pretty-boy handsome, and his career was rising as fast as her own. He seemed to radiate masculinity.

"What are you doing here?" Candy Mullender gasped, pulling the barely-concealing towel closer around the enticing curves of her body, as she halted in the doorway. She was not angered at Lee's presence-members of the cast came and went casually-but seeing him so suddenly took her by surprise. Particularly as she was so physically and sensually aroused herself. Lee brushed his long hair back. Despite the arduous shooting session he appeared fresh. "I thought I locked the door," she added, lamely.

Lee blew a cloud of smoke, enjoying her evident surprise, and lewdly taking in the ripe beauty of her body. Along with the wet towel, Candy had taken off her shower cap and now her long, raven-black hair tumbled wildly over her shoulders. He could see the full roundness of her heaving tits, the thrusting nipples barely concealed by the towel, as she stared at him.

"You didn't, Candy," he said casually. "But what matters? We're old friends."