"Isn't this kind of risky?" Bianka asked before she lowered her head to the first line that she had cut from a pile or powder she dumped from a vile onto the dashboard of the G-wagon.

"That's the housewife in you talking," I said with a laugh as she voraciously inhaled two neatly assembled rails of cocaine.

"You just know I've become such a slut for coke," she said, rubbing her nose and smiling at me. Her face had the perfect complexion, youthful and smooth. Her eyes shimmered.

"I was thinking you had crossed more into coke whore territory," I said, locking eyes on her.

"Don't be rude," she said,...