Double Exposure: A Dark MMF Bisexual Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  Sure there were the nude photos, but a lot of starlets do that shit when they’re young and penniless. They don’t know any better, they’re victims of predatory photographers, guys who convince teens to take it off, blowing compliments to make the girls feel better.

  Little do the girls realize but those photos last forever and the rights are almost impossible to buy back. Look at Jennifer Lawrence and Ariana Grande. Their phones had been hacked and private photos released, with the only recourse being a lawsuit to end the ordeal.

  But this was a thousand times worse. This video hadn’t been taken from Jenna’s private stash. These weren’t personal sex tapes, for a special someone’s eyes only. This was full-on porn for an audience, professionally produced with cameramen, lighting, a director, marketing, advertising, all that shit.

  “Get me press relations,” I growled into my phone. And I was immediately connected to Harold Komansky, head of PR.

  “Rafe, get a load of that Jenna Walsh video,” he crowed after picking up. “She’s one hot babe but so dumb! What was she thinking, making a dirty gangbang like this? How much do you think she was paid? Shit, wasn’t she a law student at the time or something? Man, this makes no sense but at least her pussy is gorgeous, as beautiful as the girl herself.”

  All the words I’d been planning to say flew out of my mind.

  “Do not, DO NOT, talk about Jenna Walsh that way,” I roared into the phone. “She is a human being who’s made bad decisions so look away from that pussy, that’s not your fucking business.”

  “Geez boss, I’m sorry,” mumbled my PR man. “I mean, I knew you dated her for a while but all the tabloids said it was over, that you ghosted her leaving her high and dry. I didn’t think it mattered … I’m real sorry, boss.”

  I could hardly stop myself from reaching through the phone to strangle this dude, he was so fucking clueless and inept. The debacle mattered because Jenna was still in contract to Levast, still modeling clothes for our stable of designers, showing up at promo events and the like. But I just couldn’t bear the thought of another man seeing that beautiful snatch, seeing the sweet way she moaned, her boobs swaying as she took dick up her ass.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I said furiously. “Draft a press release announcing Levast’s termination of the Walsh contract for breach. Send it up here the moment you’re done.”

  “Sure boss,” replied Harold tremulously. “Do I still have a job after all this is over? I swear I didn’t know,” he said, his voice wavering.

  “Shut the fuck up, just do it,” I raged again before slamming down the receiver. I cursed myself for hiring that nincompoop but my anger was misdirected at Harold. The problem was Jenna, the girl still ruled my mind although I’d cut her off.

  How could she have? How could she have betrayed me, her career, and most of all, herself by doing this video? Was there more film out there? I shook my head, the red still blurring my vision, making the air in my lungs catch, breathing painfully difficult.

  I’d never been affected by a woman like this and cursed myself. Get it together Rafe, I snarled internally. She’s a manipulative slut, just leave it at that.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Jenna

  I was sobbing on my sister’s couch, the damask material darkening with my tears.

  “I don’t know how this could have happened,” I cried, my voice muffled by a decorative pillow. “I can’t understand what’s happened.”

  “Jenna,” said my twin quietly. “What don’t you understand? You did some porn and now that you’re famous, people have taken an interest. The porn’s always been out there, just no one realized it was you.”

  “No, it’s not me!” I wailed. “I never did porn, it’s someone who looks like me with blonde hair and blue eyes, but it’s not me!”

  My sister shook her head confusedly.

  “But Jenna, I’ve seen the pictures. It’s either you or the best photoshop job in the world,” Tina said slowly.

  “Yes, that’s me, I admit,” I said brokenly. “I took some nude photos when we were in law school, tuition was due and I had no options,” I said. “I’d maxed out my credit cards so took a gig I found off Craigslist, but it was just me posing naked with cars. They definitely didn’t film me, and I’ve never even heard of Green Guys,” I said, referring to the porn production company.

  “But are you sure there were no videocameras?” asked my sister slowly. “I mean, it’s totally possible that someone stood in the corner and filmed you on the sly, right?”

  That really hurt. I turned to her, my voice scathing.

  “You think I’d forget if I did two guys, let them spurt all over me, coating me with cum and not remember? Seriously Tina, I knew you didn’t like me, but I never thought your hatred went this far,” I spat.

  “No, I’m just saying,” said my sister tiredly, shaking her head, bobbling the baby in her arms. “The old you … the old you was unpredictable and flighty. A threesome wasn’t out of the picture at all.”

  My cheeks colored as I remembered my past. Yeah, I’d done threesomes before, heck I’d done a lot dirtier so long as the boys did my homework and paid my bills. There had even been a time when I did the football team on a whim, as a passing fancy.

  But that was the old me. I was different now and my cheeks flushed at memories of my past, heat suffusing my entire being. I shook my head, my efforts to turn a new leaf thwarted. Because the moment the video had hit the mainstream, my career was dead on arrival.

  “UP AND COMING STARLET BARES HER BOOBIES!” “EXPOSURE OF YOUNG AND SWEET SENSATION JENNA WALSH UNTHINKABLE!” screamed newspaper headlines.

  I’d recoiled with horror, dumbly forcing myself to look up the video. Oh god, the Green Guys site was the first one that popped up after entering my name, and I clicked numbly. The mass of writhing bodies was explicit, the girl in the video bearing an uncanny resemblance to me, so good that I could see how no one would question the likeness.

  Even worse, the video had already been viewed twenty million times, with two million thumbs up. It was a nightmare, and I could hardly believe what had happened, the pressure on my chest crushing, my breathing shallow and fast.

  Things were only made worse when a nameless employee from my modeling agency called to let me know that Levast had terminated my contract.

  “Alright,” I’d said woodenly. “I’ll deal.” I’d expected that one because Levast represents high-fashion brands, they wouldn’t want a pornstar on their roster. I just needed a bit of time to prove my case, and then Rafe would hire me once again.

  But what I hadn’t expected was every single one of my other bookings calling within a day to let me know that I was no longer needed.

  “Really?” I’d gasped when Young, Broke and Fabulous notified me that I no longer needed to fly to Malibu next week. YBF is an up-and-coming LA brand known for its sexy, daring beachwear, and they’d walked on the wild side a couple times. Their last show was modeled entirely by Playboy centerfolds, so I’d figured their creative head would keep me on.

  “I’m sorry Ms. Walsh, but we just doesn’t see YBF customers identifying with hardcore porn stars,” said the monotonous voice. “Softcore yes, but not what you did.”

  I almost wanted to scream into the earpiece that it wasn’t me, there’d been a huge mistake. But who would believe that? So I’d hung up the phone and turned to my only ally left. My sister Tina. Family stands by family right, or at least it should, and I’d flown out to San Francisco on the red-eye, covering my head with a scarf to escape recognition.

  Thank god Jake, her husband and my ex-fiancé wasn’t there. I would have died, he’d be laughing so hard at my predicament.

  “Teen, Green Guys must have found a girl who resembles me to do the video for a few thousand bucks. Please believe me,” I said forcefully. “Please.”

  Tina looked skeptical. “Jenna, I’m not sure,” her voice trailed off. “And you know there’s no love lost between you and my husband, Jake’s nev
er liked you.”

  “I know!” I said, struggling not to raise my voice. “But I need your help, and I need Jake’s help in particular. Sterling Pharma has a ton of people working for the company, Jake’s dealt with public relations crises in the past. Please ask him for me, won’t you?”

  “I don’t know Jenna,” said my sister, her cheeks flushing. “He still blames you for Janie almost dying.”

  I shook my head resignedly. The Pernacular debacle had nothing to do with me, but somehow Jake thought I was responsible for Janie’s ill health.

  But before I could speak, Tina interrupted. “Jake’s on a business trip right now, but I’ll ask,” she said resignedly. “I’ll do it … for Mom and our family, if not for you.”

  “Thank you,” I said relieved. The Sterlings were my last hope because Rafe still hadn’t returned my calls … breaking my heart.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Rafe

  “Mr. Connor,” piped my secretary from outside, “Call for you on Line 2.”

  I frowned. This was odd, I’d asked not to be disturbed except in urgent circumstances and it was unlikely that anything would happen now that New York fashion week was over. What was it? Some designer having histrionics because the latest embroidered silk from Italy hadn’t come in yet? Some young model giving lip because she was homesick? I sighed. All in a day’s work as CEO.

  “Fine, send it through,” I growled. The phone rang and I picked up.

  “Rafe Connor,” I barked shortly. This better be good because there were a thousand things on my to-do list, including reviewing our financials and finalizing bonuses. Time was money, and dollars were lost with every wasted minute.

  “Rafael, Jake Sterling here of Sterling Pharmaceuticals,” said a deep voice.

  I immediately felt my hackles rise at the sound of another alpha male. Okay, he was probably in San Francisco, I knew Sterling was one of those biotechs located on the West Coast, but the pseudo-proximity got to me. A nasty feeling ran down my spine but I made myself stay calm.

  “What can I do for you?” I said in a deceptively smooth voice. “Sterling and Levast are hardly in the same industry.”

  The man chuckled over the phone. “No, definitely not except that your clientele seem to ingest a lot of our prescription drugs, but that’s a discussion for another day. I’m calling because we have an issue that’s troubling us both … Jenna Walsh.”

  That shut me up. I knew that Sterling had once been engaged to Jenna, breaking it off to marry her sister instead, so there had to be a lot of history there.

  “What can I do for you?” I repeated again smoothly, giving away nothing. I wondered if he knew that Jenna and I had been an item, her fragrant hair wrapped around my neck, that sweet pussy squeezing me tight as I erupted again and again into her body.

  “Well, if you didn’t know already, my wife and Jenna are twins,” he said dryly.

  I did know that. Jenna had assured me they were nothing alike, Tina a curvy brunette to Jenna’s slim blonde. But twins have a psychic connection right? Or was that a myth?

  “Yeah, I know,” I growled. I didn’t want to talk about Jenna, she’d been haunting my nights despite the fact I’d paid her off. Usually buying jewelry for my former paramours wiped the slate clean, mentally and physically. Usually, I felt absolved of all guilt, ready to move on with a new woman, the hottest new thing to catch my fancy, but it’d been different this time.

  Despite spending six figures on a piece of jewelry, I’d felt curiously listless afterwards, my thoughts turning towards the girl even though I should have been a clean slate. What the fuck? I shook my head ruefully. I seriously needed to get out, I was getting soft. I made a mental note to take out the newest, youngest girl Jason Alexander had just booked. I’d gotten a look at her comp card and she was pretty, blonde and slim … with big boobs just like someone I knew.

  Fuck! This was all wrong.

  But Sterling continued.

  “So my wife tells me that Jenna came begging for help,” he said dryly. “This scandal with the porn video is allegedly made up. Not the scandal itself,” he said, “but rather the girl in the video isn’t Jenna.”

  That made me pause. I’d watched that video more than a few times myself, and I’d know if it wasn’t her, I’d sampled those creamy curves myself, tasted the ambrosia between her legs. I’d know, wouldn’t I?

  “I’m not sure what exactly you’re saying,” I said slowly. “What exactly is Jenna claiming?”

  “That the girl in the video isn’t her,” snorted the other man. “As if. That bitch is a slut, I’m sure she’s just manipulating her sister again. Anyways, I wanted to let you know because the papers reported that Levast was embarrassed by her actions, your sales plummeted after the scandal was revealed. I thought you might like to take a shot at the cause of your problems.”

  A shot? It was true, our sales had dipped a bit but it couldn’t be attributed to the Jenna debacle, at least not entirely. Orders after New York fashion week hadn’t been as strong as in previous years but there were a dozen reasons why, including bad designs, a recession, editors not connecting with the clothes, that sort of thing.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked smoothly. My company’s sales numbers were none of this fucker’s business and there was no reason to share our proprietary information.

  “I’m not even sure,” the other man chuckled. “There may not be anything for us to do, the girl’s so fucked and it’s all her own doing,” he rasped. “I have to say, it feels good, given my wife’s past with her sister. Jenna gets what she deserves.”

  That took me aback. I knew Sterling was a ruthless businessman but this girl was his sister-in-law and ex-fiance. What a fuckwad.

  “What do you know about Green Guys?” I asked smoothly, ignoring Sterling’s callous comments.

  “A lot,” he said dryly. “I’ve got contacts in LA and Green Guys is dirty, sure, but you know how the celebrity sex tape business is. They take orders, just like everybody else, when the dollar signs are right.”

  “I’ll give them a call,” I said shortly. “I’ll put my guys on it and try and find out who the girl was, if it wasn’t Jenna. What about the pictures?” I asked. “Is she claiming those aren’t her as well?”

  The other man snorted again.

  “Nah, she admits those are her,” he replied. “Can you believe it? Jenna pulled the poverty card, saying she had no money to pay law school tuition and was forced to do it. That’s fucking bullshit, I dated her at the time and she definitely didn’t act like she had nothing, in fact she was spending my money like water.”

  Okay, this was a little more believable. At least the photos were real, there was some truth mixed in there. But I was done with this Sterling asshole. I hated him already, the way acted totally blameless although he’d been the one to break off the engagement.

  “I’ll make a call,” I repeated harshly. “We’ll figure this out.”

  “No,” said Sterling shortly. “You figure it out. The longer this bitch roasts in hell, the happier I’ll be. Make sure she never gets back to me or my wife,” he commanded before clicking off.

  I don’t take orders well from other men but my professionalism kept me calm and cool. I owed it to Levast to figure this out … and I owed it to myself.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Rafe

  The Los Angeles sunshine was unbelievably bright, the glare painfully reflected off of windows, cars, anything shiny. I felt out of place in my dark suit and mentally made a note to instruct Santino to pack something lighter next time. Of course, I’d hopped on my plane the moment I got a hold of Green Guys, so Santino hadn’t had much time, but I hadn’t expected the city to be so oppressive either.

  Because it was. Hollywood was dingy, hardly the glamorous, bright lights big city made out in movies and books. Instead it was strip mall after strip mall, Korean grocery stores and Laundromats endlessly lining the faceless roads that seemed to go on forever.

  I came
to a square block of a building, painted pale pink, the attempt at Art Deco falling face flat, appearing like a decrepit dollhouse instead. The name Green Guys was emblazoned on the door in peeling letters and I knocked although what I really wanted to do was to bulldoze this place and then maybe torch it afterwards, it was so grimy and gross.

  The lock clicked and I let myself in, going up to the second floor.

  A blonde woman who was fake in all ways greeted me from behind a desk, her lips like Lisa Rinna on an acid trip.

  “Mr. Connor, we’ve been expecting you,” she simpered, giving me her biggest smile. “Please come into the back.”

  I followed her through a set of doors to a suite decorated with a desk, a couch, a video camera, and a big screen TV. Okay, this is how porn places outfitted their conference rooms. Made sense, I guess.

  “Can I get you anything while you wait?” the blonde purred. “I’m Candy,” she added unnecessarily, batting her lashes at me.

  “No thanks,” I replied shortly. The faster this blonde got out, the cleaner I’d feel.

  “Well, just let me know,” she cooed, “I’m just outside.”

  “Okay,” I said in a clipped voice, refusing to look at her. Ugh, were all LA girls like this? The receptionist was just so fake, big tits that joggled like balloons, a face that was straight out of funhouse mirror.

  I paced in the small room and when the door finally opened again I spun around, expecting to see some seedy producer, probably some paunchy short dude, fifty with a big gut. But instead, there stood Jenna.

  “Rafe!” she gasped. “What are you doing here?” her cheeks colored.

  My body got hard at the sight of her but I maintained my iron control.

  “I should ask you the same thing,” I said harshly. “Here to do some filming again?”

  She looked down at the floor.

  “It wasn’t me,” she whispered. “I’m not the girl in the video, although I don’t expect you to believe it.”