Product: Make It Last: A Complete BWWM Romance
Can you make it last?” Naomi finally asks. 
​I’m gut punched. I have to fight hard to control my breathing. Her one question holds all my dreams, wants, and needs. 
 
**** 
ZAHN- 
“Do me a favor.” 
​ 
Four words to fuck up my already fucked up world. Although I’m dealing with enough shit, my dumb ass agrees. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I would be standing face to face with her; the Naomi Henson. Oh, the countless times I wacked off to her growing up. I should be on a cattle drive, yet here I am, training her to ride horses for a role. I don’t doubt my friend asked for this ‘favor’ knowing damn well I wouldn’t pass up the chance of possibly teaching Naomi how to ride a beast of my own. It’s Austin’s way of forcing me stick around, to deal with people that are more like lingering shit on the bottom of my boots. 
Yeah, it’s time I dealt with these fucker of the past…and hopefully, I’ll get a sweet piece of Naomi as my reward. 
 
**** 
NAOMI- 
Washed up. Has been. Past her prime. All the phrases that has been used to describe me and my acting career. I guess you can add reformed crack head and whore to the list, too. No one is to blame. Well, many are, but complaining won’t change the nature of the beast that says that a man in this industry can work till he’s wheeled out, with wrinkles and a shady past. However, a female actress, no matter how great her talent, has a limited shelf life. The doors her age doesn’t close, her mistakes being played out in a constant loop will. I faced the hard facts that it’s a man’s world in Hollywood a long time ago. Being 42 years young is a death sentence in the industry. 
Yet, here I am. Completely godsmacked at the offer of the role of the century. We’re talking leading lady, Oscar worthy. Then fast forward to- 
 
“Can you make it last?” 
​ 
What the hell am I saying? I’m here to train for my comeback role, not for whiskey and a roll in the hay. Now this good looking, tall, 48 year old joker that seems to say all the right lines from the raunchiest Native American romance novels is fucking me up. Zahn Ewing needs to get a clue. I’m just faking it in hopes that I make it, again. If he knew, I mean really knew my history, my secret, he would understand why I pop pills just to be able to look at myself in the mirror. He would understand why I, of all people, don’t deserve a second chance at anything…and I damn sure don’t deserve the likes of him.

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