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3 September 2012 Neve Campbell vs Jennifer Love Hewitt

Page history last edited by Dradis 11 years, 2 months ago

Posted by JKO & The Walkin' Dude on September 3, 2012, 7:23 pm

 

August 29, 2012. Fraternizing (Sororitizing?) with the enemy…

The sound of her doorbell ringing a few minutes after 8 PM filled her with an unusual feeling of delight. Jennifer Love Hewitt traipsed lightly on the balls of her feet as she strode from one end of her house to the other to greet the caller who had arrived at her front step, almost giddy at the thought of what was about to transpire tonight. There was something exhilarating about the fact that she was about to do something she knew was very bad, something that would be unforgivable if anyone ever found out about it. At the same time, and for entirely different reasons, she was filled with a girlish sense of glee more befitting a thirteen year-old.

Unlocking the door, Jennifer opened it to find her guest standing in front of her. A scant half hour after sunset, the porch was completely dark except for the lights coming from the lampposts on the street. Everything was going according to plan. “C’mon. Get in here quickly before anyone sees you.”

Placing her hands on her hips, Neve Campbell gave the younger brunette a rather irritated glare. “Jen… No one cares that I’m here.”

Jennifer’s shoulders slumped as she heard the curmudgeonly tone on her friend’s voice. Neve didn’t sound nearly half as eager about tonight’s rendezvous as she was, and seemed even less concerned about getting caught in the act. “If we get found out because of you-”

“No one will care,” Neve replied. She shifted the beach bag she had slung over her shoulders as she took Jennifer to task. “Jeri won’t care. Wiz won’t care. Neither of our training camps is set to begin for at least another week. For Chrissakes, we haven’t even signed a contract yet. And… what’s that?”

Jen glanced down at the sight that Neve’s eyes were fixated upon: her own body wrapped up in a white terrycloth robe. “Come on in and I’ll show you.”

The younger brunette smiled as Neve finally relented and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Jennifer led the two of them to the bedroom, smiling all the while. She pointed to the bed and sauntered to the master bathroom, closing that door as well. “Sit down… I’ll be out in a sec.”

About a minute passed before the door opened again. Out stepped Jennifer wearing a sporty red bikini, black Velcro-strapped Everlast workout gloves, and the broadest grin in the world. “Well? A great outfit for a title fight, wouldn’t you say?”

“Terrible,” Neve replied curtly.

“What do you mean, ‘terrible?!”

“It doesn’t work with your hair the way it currently is. And besides, it clashes with everything I brought.”

“Since when does red clash with black?” Jennifer asked.

“I don’t know about the black one,” Neve said, hesitating a bit, “I’ll try it if nothing else looks right.”

Jennifer sighed. “Fine. Show me what you’ve got.”

Neve’s gloomy demeanor disappeared in an instant as she flashed Jen a devilish grin and hopped off the bed, pulling her bag behind her as she took her turn in the bathroom. Jennifer opened the door to her walk-in closet and passed the next few minutes in silence looking at herself in a full-length mirror on the door’s inner side. She shifted between one fighting pose and then another, even modeling herself like a pinup from time to time. Jennifer frowned at Neve’s words. The outfit wasn’t that bad, no matter what Neve said…

“Ok, take a look,” came the older brunette’s voice as the door opened.

Turning around, Jennifer was taken aback for a moment by the sight. Neve smiled as she sported an orange bikini and black boxing gloves that mirrored the younger woman’s own pair. Jennifer’s eyes were transfixed on that particular piece of swimwear – it was all too familiar to her; who knew if it held the same significance for Neve, or if it had been something she’d grabbed at the last minute while rushing out the door. It felt like a lifetime since the last time Jennifer and the orange bikini crossed paths, but she remembered it just like it was yesterday…

* * * * *

February 18th, 1998. Just one FOX…

All things considered, Love thought she was doing pretty well. The Melrose Place match had ended with Josie bawling her capitulation to that bytch Locklear while the 90210 tilt saw Garth and Thiessen pulled shrieking from one another to shocked silence. But the Party of Five costars had kept things, well, almost polite. Jen’s reverie was disrupted by a nasty jolt of pain that started just above her right hip and shot all the way up to her armpit.

“Nnnngggggghhhhh…” Her groan was soft, but not so quiet Neve didn’t hear.

“You wanna give, Jen? Just say the word and I’ll let go.”

Hewitt looked around the penthouse, saw a small crowd of eager faces practically drooling over the prospect of another whimpered submission. So the trapped brunette shook her head ‘no’ and muttered, “Gimme all ya got Neve…. what’s this damned thing called again?”

At the moment Campbell was snuggled in tight behind the smaller brunette and her left leg was hooked over and behind Jen’s left leg. That was merely to keep her immobilized, the pain stemmed from Neve’s left arm, which was coiled around Hewitt’s right bicep. Every few seconds Neve would craaaaank to her left and Hewitt’s torso would be forced to bend at a sharp angle, thus the frequent lightning racing up her side.

“This is an Abdominal Stretch,” Neve’s right hand was resting on Jennifer’s right hip, mostly as a brace, though occasionally she pat her foe’s flank or play with the waistband of the American’s zappy green bikini bottoms. “They don’t see it a lot,” Campbell flicked a rather irritated glance at the jet setters, who didn’t even notice, “that’s why they’re so damned interested.”

“Sure about that? Because it looks to me like they‘re really scoping my tits.” Jennifer’s left arm was hanging free, so she balled her hand into a fist and pak-pak-pakked! a half dozen little hammer punches into the meat of Neve’s thigh. She could see a little bruise forming and if she’d had hours at her disposal, Hewitt might have been able to wrest her way loose. But she had a feeling they were near the tail end of the allotted thirty minutes and there was no way Neve would release on anything other than her own volition. She might as well have been punching an oak plank.

Neve’s response was a soft chuckle and prolonged tug on the stretch, one that made Jenny moan and swat at her friend’s encroaching gam. “That a tap?”

There was genuine interest in the Canadian’s query as she eased up on her hold the tiniest bit. “Already tapped enough tonight,” Hewitt said following a weary sigh. “Four times by my count. The Bodyscissors. The Headscissors. The Boston Crab…” Hewitt trailed off for a moment as she relieved that particular moment thanks to a dull flare of pain at the small of her back. When it subsided, or at least gave way to the evening’s freshest pain, Jenny Love added, “And there was the…. something clutch. Elephant?”

Campbell laughed aloud, a sentiment most of her audience didn’t seem to appreciate. This was serious business, dammit! “That was a Camel Clutch,” she corrected, “and you need to master it as quickly as possible. It’ll be a good weapon for you down the-”

“FINISH HER OFF,” called some frustrated suit.

“YEAH, WORK HER TITS!” Added an equally nondescript compatriot.

“How about I work your tits, fat ass?” Neve turned her attention to the heckler while maintaining the pressure on her debilitating stretch. “What, not so interested anymore?” Campbell snarked when no one would meet her gaze. “Let me tell you assholes something, Jennifer Love Hewitt’s going to be a star in this business and you’re lucky you had a chance to see her fight before she’s got enough clout to have your stupid faces barred from the-”

The match timer buzzed, ending Neve’s tirade and the contest in one stroke. Releasing the Abdominal Stretch immediately, the taller brunette looped an arm around Jenny’s waist and helped ease the crumpling battler to her hands and knees.

Once she’d tended to the anguish in her midsection. Hewitt looked over at Campbell and asked, “You really think I’m gonna be a star?”

Neve nodded. “I know it, Love. Good effort, but you can do better. I’ll show you how to do the Clutch next time we train.” She patted Jen on the back, stood up and strode over to the ombudsman to claim her robe.

The last thing Love saw before she slipped it over her shoulders was a flash of orange.

* * * * *

“…You don’t like it?” Neve asked.

“…Not really,” Jennifer softly replied. “Why don’t you try something else on? I’ll take a look through what I’ve got, and maybe we can come up with something that works.”

Neve nodded, and the two separated again. Closing the door to the closet behind her, Jennifer pulled the Velcro straps to her gloves open and slipped them off, setting them on top of a dresser. She then opened the top drawer and began leafing through a variety of different fighting togs, most of which had served her admirably in years past. There was a bit of indecision on her part, as she took one in her hands after another, maybe going so far as to take it out of the drawer, before shuffling it aside as she tried to separate the ones she’d looked at and the ones she’d rejected.

Jennifer soon came to the reliable purple bikini. It was made from a soft satin material with a bra-style top, the latter aspect often leading to it being mistaken as underwear to an observer at a distance. It had been a regular staple of her fighting attire since she’d joined Jeri’s Knockouts five years earlier. It was a heartpounding number, one that never ceased to elicit an energized response from all who saw her in it. She loved the way it shined under ring lights – she always thought it made her look glamorous. Pulling the top out of the drawer, Jen looked at herself in the mirror holding it up against her chest. Yes, there was no denying that she absolutely rocked purple.

A bittersweet feeling suddenly overcame Jennifer. The swimsuit had seen her through a lot of times both good and bad, hadn’t it? Try as hard as she might, Jennifer couldn’t help but think about the woman in the other room, and the times that this purple number had crossed Neve’s path…

* * * * *

October 6th, 2007. The hour of the wolf…

“It’s the punishment she’s taken…”

Jennifer Love Hewitt grimaced, shifted unconsciously on the big overstuffed couch as the Jennifer from several hours prior soaked up Neve’s hook just behind her right elbow. “C’mon,” the brunette muttered to the darkened hotel room, as if urging herself on would change what happened on screen.

“I think it’s all come back to haunt her...”

Irony’s a cruel bytch goddess, Hewitt thought as an uppercut in the third almost stole her legs. Less than nine minutes in and she was already growling low in the back of her throat. Only twenty plus minutes to go, not counting the pre and post-fight press conferences, thankfully. She had no urge to endure Campbell’s praise in the latter and she remembered every galling word she’d uttered in the former. “Find the silver lining, Hewitt.” A long pause, silent save for the quiet babble of the television and the hum of the air conditioner. Finally, “Well… I do rock purple.”

“I saw a tired Neve Campbell…”

Looking anything but, Neve spent the fourth peppering her former stablemate with jabs and the occasional hook or uppercut. Though it wasn’t the most demoralizing three minutes of the fight, ‘those are still coming,’ Jennifer thought grimly, the fourth was arguably the hardest for her to watch because Campbell was flat out controlling her. And to make it worse, she wasn’t showing off, wasn’t working especially tawdry, wasn’t even talking any trash. No, Neve was just circling and shelling, slowly but surely wearing away Hewitt’s defenses with an exhibition of no frills boxing, the very simplicity of which somehow managed to make Love look even worse by compare.

“C’mon, dammit,” Jenny pounded a fist into the armrest as the fourth came to an end. “Show me something. Show me where it went wrong.”

“You know I’ve got total respect for you…”

Love showed it too, the curvy battler keeping her cool in the fifth, refusing to clinch or even frazzle as the other brunette’s methodical barrage found more and more holes. “You’ve stood with her for five rounds,” Jen’s voice was a few notches below a whisper, “McAdams would be mouth breathing by now. Cuthbert would be on her knees, hugging that sloppy little gut. But you’re on your damn feet. You’re right there with her, so get off your goddamned heels and go after her.”

For sixty glorious seconds, television Jennifer seemed to be taking her advice and even though she knew what lay ahead, Hewitt found her spirits rising anyway. Then Neve walked her into that roundhouse and Love let out a disgusted sigh. A bleak, pessimistic voice in the back of her head wished Campbell had pounced, mauled her with a flurry that ended in a stoppage. At least that way she could’ve bytched to the ref about being too cautious. But no, Neve worked patient as always and her virtue was rewarded generously in the seventh.

“I think you’re weak right now…”

Jennifer watched the latest three minute atrocity with gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. There was nothing worthy saying it that point, she simply relived all those hooks and all those tired clenches and hated herself for wishing the clock would go faster.

“You’re weak and I have to take advantage…”

Hewitt’s legs were holding up through eight, but it didn’t seem like a silver lining anymore, especially when Campbell’s hooks started to land unopposed. “Just end it,” Jen was disgusted by the resignation in her voice, found she didn’t care, “why didn’t you just end it?”

A thought flashed across the front of her mind and suddenly the ninth and tenth rounds with their cudgeling beat downs didn’t matter. She got up off the couch for the first time in what seemed like hours and started to pace the length of the room

“She was trying. She did everything she could and it wasn’t enough to put me away. So what have we learned?” Hewitt stopped in mid-stride and looked to the television, where Neve was holding Jen’s head in her gloves after the tenth. “I can take your best, Neve,” she told the room, “like no one else can. Now I need to learn how to give you mine.”

* * * * *

The door creaked open as Jennifer stepped out of the closet, black gloves once again secured around her hands. Neve already standing in the bedroom waiting for her – the older brunette’s back was turned as she seemed to be going through the poses much as Jennifer had done earlier. It took Jennifer a second to realize just which outfit Neve had decided to wear for this comparison.

Her heart stopped at the sight of black bikini top, leopard print bottoms, and black gloves.

Neve turned around at the sound of Jennifer returning to the bedroom. Her face blanched as well when she too recognized the younger woman’s fighting bikini and the significance of what had just transpired. “We’ve done this before, haven’t we…?”

Jennifer nodded her head, avoiding eye contact. An uncomfortable silence filled the air as one of the low points of their friendship came back to haunt them.

“I guess this means ‘no’ on this one, then…” Neve said.

“Yeah…” Jennifer replied softly, “Let’s just move on…”

* * * * *

May 10th, 2009. Someplace quiet, out of the way…

Jennifer Love Hewitt had a standing reservation at a little Vietnamese place in Orange County. The reason for this, aside from world class pho and a discrete wait staff, was the booth itself, which was tucked away in the far corner of the restaurant, far from the prying eyes and ears of any tourists or wandering paparazzi. This made it an ideal spot for the occasional contract negotiation or post fight luncheon, both of which could get a little… spirited… on occasion.

These qualities were sorely tested when Love met up with Neve a few days following the TKO6. It all started well enough, their discussion had been adversarial but cordial for fifteen minutes or so. Then Jennifer brought up the MAXIM covers and it all went to hell.

“I cannot BELIEVE you punked my cover for Lacey’s,” Hewitt spat at Campbell, “you see her half a dozen times and she’s all kittens and rainbows, but I have to live with her three hundred days a year and she spends most of those being an insufferable bytch! With ‘Big Sis’ backing her in public I’ll never hear the end of it!”

Neve grunted, almost succeeded in keeping her reply civil. “What was I supposed to do, Love? You all but called me used up in our last match and then you show up on the dais wearing that slutty ‘your face, my tits’ purple top? How would YOU have reacted to that kind of taunt?”

“It wasn’t a JMD bout,” Jen grumbled, “I wouldn’t have done anything.”

“Oh no?” Neve’s challenge was mild, but her arched eyebrow was a brazen affront to the curvaceous Texan. “Really? It’s something you never considered, Love? With Jeri whispering in your ear, with Lacey riding your ass, with the fans clamoring to see someone’s face disappear, it’s a possibility you never considered?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Hewitt said coldly, “I didn’t say it never crossed my mind. I said I wouldn’t. Because I respect you a lot Neve, even if you don’t seem to think much of me these days.”

Neve had been absently stirring her noodles. Now she looked up and her dark eyes were hard. “Don’t give me that for a second, Jen. When the suits at FOX said you were never going to be anything but tits on a jobber, who told them to piss off? Who spent weeks training you and eventually Lacey when every boxing, wrestling and beach fighting publication had written you off as cupcakes for the likes of Doherty and Milano? Who? Go on Jen, answer me!”

Jenny looked off into a corner, took a deep breath and let it out slow. “You did.”

“Yeah, I did. I stuck with the both of you until you were able to carve out a niche of your own. And you repaid that how, exactly? By making me sweat off a lousy pound and a half!”

“You knew the limit,” Hewitt fired back. “So don’t get mouthy with me because you’re too damned lazy to make wei-”

She cut it off quickly as Campbell leaned forward over the table, the longtime friends and rivals falling into a silent staredown, rendered much more even than normal thanks to the booth. “You’re going to say that to me?” Neve asked after perhaps ten seconds. “After you called me bawling when those beach pics hit the cover of PEOPLE?”

“Everyone thinks you’re better than me, Neve,” her words were softer, but in no way apologetic, “they’ve thought it since the beginning of my career and I can’t take it anymore. If talking trash to you is the only way to make them stop treating me like a glorified sparring partner then that’s what I’ll-”

“I am better than you.”

Hewitt stopped cold. Hearing one of her darkest fears on Campbell’s lips did nothing to ease the tension in the room. “Take it back. Right now.”

Neve shook her head. “No. And even if I did, you wouldn’t believe it.”

Jennifer leaned back in her seat; it was the only way she could keep herself from pie-facing the other woman that very instant. After a moment to collect herself, she said, “You don’t want to take it back? Fine. I’ll drag it out of you on the carpet. You and me, Neve,” Hewitt flicked a finger back n’ forth between the two, “AHW, no rules. Catfight style. I find my Front Sleeper can be rather useful in changing opinions.”

“No opinion here, Love,” Neve murmured, “just the facts. Here’s another one. You don’t want this fight, not really. I’m not another sawed off little fireplug you can bully. Step to me on the carpet and you’re the one getting bullied. But if you insist, I’ll make it happen. Know this up front, though. I’ll win. And I’ll win inside your bra.”

Jennifer smirked. “Not the first time I’ve heard that, Neve.”

“No, it probably isn’t. It’s just the first time you’ve heard it from me.”

“Are you going to make it happen or not?”

“Consider it done.”

* * * * *

“You seem awfully fixated on this suit. You know that?” Neve’s voice was muffled by the bathroom door as she changed into another contender for her fight night bikini.

“Maybe I’m just motivated,” Jennifer replied, batting her gloves together in front of her chest. The younger brunette was now decked out in a silver string bikini. She’d worn silver only once before in her FCBA career – sadly, during her first loss to Elisha Cuthbert in their recent best of seven series. Needless to say, that particular outfit had been discarded, but at the same time she wasn’t prepared to give on the color just yet.

“Foolish is more like it,” Neve countered, raising her voice just a bit in volume, “It’s not to late for me to try on something else.”

“Just hurry up and get out here. I want to see how we look together.”

The door opened and Neve stepped out wearing her trademark black bikini. Jennifer smiled as she came close and pulled her body up against the older woman’s. She posed the two of them in a stylized version of a clinch and looked at the closet door, propped open with its mirror easily visible, and admired the sight.

“See? I think this looks good. Don’t you?”

Separating herself from Jennifer, Neve assumed a fighting stance and first extended her left arm as if throwing a cross to the cheek, then turned her body to model a right hook to Jen’s left jug. Neve seemed to mull it over as she too looked at the two of them in the mirror, but soon shook her head as she dropped her arms and relaxed her body.

“This is a bad idea,” Neve said, “You know how I can get when I wear black. The last time wasn’t exactly the best moment for either of us...”

* * * * *

July 14, 2009. Tooth and nail…

Jennifer had made a valiant effort to keep from voicing her pain these last three minutes, but it was ultimately a tide she could not stop. Either the pain, which was growing with each passing second, or frustration, would have her screaming at the top of her lungs. Without warning, the hands on her breasts pulled away. Somewhere above her, she could hear Neve cracking her knuckles. Zeroing in on the useless armor of her bright pink bra, Love rolled her shoulders, kicked her heels and fluttered her hands, all to absolutely no effect. Campbell had her locked up tight.

“Let me go,” she growled.

“Do you give?”

Neve knew Jen wasn’t ready to throw in the towel, but she knew the question drove her crazy, which was why she asked it. She also knew that Jennifer’s submission was only a matter of time, which meant she was in no rush to obtain it. The Canadian battler was resting on her knees with the back of Jennifer’s skull nuzzled against the crushed velvet expanse of Campbell’s black panties. A vulnerable position to be sure, but what made it nigh inescapable was arrangement of her legs and Jennifer’s arms. The latter were stretched out at shoulder level, turning Jen into a lovely ‘T’ shape. The former were hooked over JLH’s biceps, the usually strong limbs rendered nearly useless by the crushing vise of Neve’s thighs and calves. It was the perfect platform to attack Love’s vaunted rack and that’s what Campbell had been doing until she took a break to limber up her fingers.

Now she was ready for rounds two, even if Jenny wasn’t.

“Well?” She laid her hands over those defenseless juggs and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Do you give?”

“SCREW YOU!” Hewitt bucked hard and whipped her left leg up in a desperate attempt to kick her tormentor in the face… or not. Neve caught Jennifer’s gam around the calf and held her in an awkward half matchbook so she could reach down with her other hand and paddle her foe’s panties with half a dozen SWAPPING crotch slaps.

“All right, so you don’t want to quit,” Campbell tossed Love’s leg away, curled her hands into claws and settled them down across proud Texas rack once again, “you just tell me when you change your mind.”

She squeeeeeeeeeeezed then, Neve’s steely fingers working into Love’s helplessly hulking hooters (oh, how Jennifer LOATHED that phrase) like a talented baker kneading particularly stiff dough. The Jugg Mugging was much like Campbell herself. Methodical. Effective. Patient. And almost completely silent. Aside from her own huffing and the sound of her poor girls ‘smecking’ together from time to time, Jennifer couldn’t hear anything, not even Neve’s breathing and that made an already painful situation untenable, at least for any length of time.

Finally the clawing got to be too much for her and Love began thrashing wildly, smashing her heels against the plush carpet before ultimately setting them to raise a bridge that earned polite applause from the crowd and nothing at all from Campbell. “GODDAMIT NEVE,” Jennifer bellowed in equal parts anger and frustration, “LET ME GO!” She punctuated her demand with another bout of hard wriggling.

The tines eased up ever so slightly. “Do you give, Jen?”

“NO, THIS IS NOT OVER! LET ME UP SO I CAN EERRRHHHH AAAAHHHHH FAAAAHHHK!”

Neve had kept her talons in sight until this point, now she deftly worked thumb and forefinger under the lace of Hewitt’s top to secure a heartless pincer grip. “You’re helpless, Love,” Campbell’s tone was quiet and confident as she slowly twisted her wrists toward one another, “just give up before any real damage is done.”

“No,” Hewitt shook her head, frantically underlining the point, “no I won’t. Not like this. Not to oooohhhhh shhhiiitttt!” No screams this time, Love trapped them behind clenched teeth and held them there til they starved.

“Don’t think she’s gonna see reason, Neve,” Jen recognized the obnoxious voice from the crowd as none other than Lacey Chabert, “guess you’ll have to sit on her face!” Hewitt’s blood slowed, then went cold as Neve stopped mauling and cupped her chin instead.

Tipping Love’s head back, Neve looked down and told her, “This is over.”

Jen swallowed a lump in her throat. She knew an ultimatum was coming, even if it didn’t sound like one.

“Ask me.”

There it was. Lacey would have said ‘beg me’. Hell, Lacey would have made her beg, then smothered her anyway. But not Neve. Even after all the hard feelings, Campbell was offering her a way out. Love couldn’t decide if she appreciated or hated the gesture. The helpless wrestler mulled her words very carefully, eventually chose two. “Please don’t.”

An almost imperceptible nod, then Neve pushed up, slid forward and sat down on Hewitt’s devastated chest. The Reverse Matchbook and brisk five count that followed were still humiliating, Jen couldn’t believe she’d slipped to 0-4 against her friend, but Neve had ensured that the American would be able to leave the room on her own two feet and Hewitt couldn’t help but be thankful for it. Campbell’s weight disappeared only to be replaced by a shadow leaning in close. Love didn’t have to open her eyes to know who it was.

“That’s four now, Jen,” Neve said softly, “so just leave it alone, girl. Nothing good will come of it otherwise.”

The last thing Hewitt wanted to do was open her eyes, which was why she forced herself to do just that. “Would you?” she replied. “Could you?”

Neve sighed. “I suppose not.”

“Neither can I.”

For someone who’d just won a big match, Campbell didn’t look too satisfied when she leaned her forehead against Jennifer’s. “Understood. Until next time, Love.” Then she stood up and walked away, leaving Jen to wonder when ‘next time’ would come around.

* * * * *

“I really don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into,” Neve stated emphatically.

“I know exactly what’s in store for me,” Jennifer replied with equal steadfastness, “Hell on wheels. You at your meanest and toughest. I’ve seen it and I can handle it. That’s what I want when we step into the ring with each other.”

Neve smiled. “Okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. And lose the silver. Give me what I want and you’ll get the same.”

Jennifer returned the grin as she slipped back into the closet and shut the door. Stripping off her gloves quickly, she went back into her drawer and brought out the last bikini she had to offer. In hindsight, she’d probably been keeping it in reserve for reasons similar to Neve’s, but now that they were playing for all the marbles there was no longer any reason to hold back. A few minutes later, she was changed and gloved once again as she opened the door.

“Lucky white always did look good on you,” Neve commented warmly.

“This is the bikini that ended Gellar and Hayek,” Jennifer replied, “Are you sure you want your name added to that list?”

“What I want is your best. Is that what I’m going to get?”

“Damn straight it is!”  

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