Friday night in Vegas and I'm still at the mirror, taking my time. The city can wait — but I don't think you can.
Friday night in Vegas and I'm still at the mirror, taking my time. The city can wait — but I don't think you can.
Still dripping from that workout and already thinking about what kind of trouble tonight's going to bring. Care to join the warm-up?
Back seat of a rideshare and the neon's just starting to crawl across my skin. The driver won't look in his mirror — but you would.
The pool is the only place in this city that makes sense when it's this hot. Even the cocktail waitress gave up on small talk and just keeps the drinks coming. You'd lose your mind if you could see what the sun's doing to me right now.
Just wrapped filming and I'm still too wired to put anything back on. The camera caught plenty tonight — but you should see what it didn't.
The Stones tribute ended an hour ago and I'm still too wired to come down. Tell me what you'd do with a woman who can't shake a night like this off.
The cards told me to spend the afternoon like this — bare, grounded, letting the candle smoke carry whatever I'm feeling straight up. Even the spirits like a show. You brave enough to sit across from me?
The Strip's just starting to glow and I've got the whole rooftop to myself. Tell me you'd be able to keep your hands to yourself up here.
The Strip's already screaming through my walls and I'm stuck at my closet in nothing but heels, trying to decide what kind of trouble to find tonight. Red or black?
Steam's still on the glass and I haven't bothered with a towel. What's your excuse for staring?