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"You want a hit?" JC asked, holding the joint out to Britney.

Britney fluffed her hair in the mirror and wrinkled her nose. "No."

JC laughed mockingly. "Of course not. You can't tarnish your good girl image."

Britney turned to glare at him. "Fuck off."

"You know," he drawled, "if you're serious about your image, you shouldn't go around telling people you and Justin," the name was said with a sneer, "had 'great sex.'" He took another hit off the joint. "Especially where the press can get a hold of it."

Britney draped herself across his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I wanted to tell them how great it was with you," she purred, "but they all think I'm with Justin." JC slipped a hand under her skirt and stroked the inside of her thighs. She squirmed happily. "I had to tell them it was him," she said with a pout.

JC pulled her close and kissed her. She choked on the smoke he breathed into her mouth and pushed him away.

He watched her in amusement, sliding his hand higher. "Can't handle a little smoke, princess?"

"Fuck you." She pushed his hand away and got off his lap to pace the room.

JC chuckled, watching her with heavy-lidded eyes. "Been there, done that." He breathed in more of the smoke from the joint. "You're more mine than Justin's."

Before she could answer, the door fairly flew open. "Chris says he heard the place is hopping," Justin informed them as he bounced over to smack a kiss onto Britney's cheek. "This is gonna be fun."

Britney smiled up at him and kissed his lips lightly. "They always are."

JC finished off his joint and came over to throw one arm around each of them. He kissed Justin's cheek. When he leaned over and did the same to Britney, he whispered, "Remember, princess, you're mine," against her cheek.