Читать книгу Millionaire Playboys: Paying the Playboy's Price - Emilie Rose - Страница 13

Last chance. Last chance.

With her pulse thumping a deafening beat in her ears, Juliana lowered her lids and turned her back to Rex. The air around her stirred, sweeping over her skin as Rex shifted behind her. A second later, something alternately cool and rough crossed her breasts. Startled, she peeked. Her belt.

He dragged the braided strands left, right and back again and again. Each of the glass beads woven into the pattern teased her like a cool fingertip, while the cording, similar to the mild calluses on Rex’s palms, lightly abraded her skin. The heat of his breath between her shoulder blades was her only warning before he nuzzled her hair aside and placed an openmouthed kiss on her nape followed by another on her neck and her shoulder, her back…

Nipping. Kissing. Grazing.

His teeth. His lips. The belt.

She thought she’d implode as each new sensation built upon the last. A shudder shook her.

The belt slid lower, gliding over her waist, hips and curls. She gasped as the beads bumped over her highly sensitized flesh. And then he took the belt on a return trip, raking her nerve endings into a combustible pile and turning her legs to rubber.

“Turn around.”

She forced her uncooperative muscles into obedience. The belt tightened beneath the curve of her bottom. Her nails bit into her palms and her teeth clenched on a moan as the beaded strands slid to her calves, ankles and back again. Rex pulled her closer. She braced her hands on his chest and then lowered them to his belly and bunched his T-shirt in her hands. She had to feel his skin on hers.

This couldn’t possibly get better. Could it? She had to find out. She tugged upward and opened her eyes, reveling in the hunger she found in his. “Rex, please, I need to feel you against me.”

He pitched the belt onto the bed behind him and helped her remove his shirt. She flexed her fingers, anticipating touching him. And then she did, burying her fingers in the dark curls on his chest, but reality far exceeded fantasy. Supple hot satin rippled below her fingertips. The tickle of his wiry hairs teased her palms. And then she cupped his face and kissed him. She couldn’t possibly find the words to express how good he made her feel, but she could show him by pouring it into her kiss.

Rex’s arms banded around her, fusing her to the length of his hot torso as he consumed her mouth roughly, greedily. It wasn’t enough. Juliana wanted more, needed more, ached for more. As if he read her thoughts, he shifted her until she straddled one muscled thigh. The position left her open and vulnerable, a situation he took advantage of by easing his fingers between them to comb through her curls, find her wetness and caress her with deft strokes until she weaved unsteadily on her trembling legs. He pressed deeper, stroked faster and the tension inside her twisted into an almost unbearable knot.

She broke the kiss to gulp for air and alternately tangled her fingers in his hair and clenched his shoulders. His bristly jaw abraded the tender underside of her breast and then he caught her nipple with his lips, his teeth and gently tormented her right over the edge of reason. Release arced through her, scattering sparks clear down to her toes.

She forced her heavy lids open and smiled into his dark eyes. She traced a finger over his tight jaw. “Wow.”

“Condoms. Get ’em,” he rasped.

She turned to do as he bid, opening the purse she’d left on the dresser and retrieving the box with trembling hands. By the time she turned around he’d removed his boots and socks and stood towering over her. Juliana’s heart pounded out a nervous rhythm as he shed his jeans and briefs with one sharp shove. His hair was wild and disheveled from her handiwork, and he looked every inch the rebel with the stubble on his jaw and upper lip and an untamed look in his eyes.

Her gaze skated over his broad chest to the erection jutting from a bed of dense dark curls. Thick. Hard. Hers. At least for now. Her mouth dried and her pulse blipped hummingbird fast.

Rex wanted her. Her. His desire was there plain to see. No man had ever been so blatantly aroused by just pleasuring her. In fact, few had ever taken the time to make sure she enjoyed the encounter.

He ripped back the comforter and held out his hand. She laid hers in his big palm and he drew her closer. The impact of his hot arousal against her belly sent her breath shuddering from her lungs and then his mouth took hers in a deep, soul-robbing kiss. The condoms fell from her fingers as she gave in to her need to stroke his supple skin, test his thick muscles and cup the derriere she’d shamelessly ogled when no one was looking.

He tipped her toward the mattress. The cool glide of his hair over her shoulder and then her breast had to be the most sensual thing Juliana had ever experienced. No wonder so many men liked long hair. Rex’s dragged like cool satin over her heated skin as he feasted on her breasts, her belly. His tongue dipped into her navel and then swirled a path from hip bone to hip bone. It was simultaneously too much and not enough.

When he finally parted her curls and found her with his mouth, she had to shove her fist against her mouth to quiet her cries. She’d wanted to experience passion, and boy, was she. All too quickly, release undulated through her. Never had she felt anything this intense and at the same time frightening. Frightening because she was out of control, a slave to her desires, and because she had a feeling Rex Tanner was more man that she—or any woman for that matter—could handle. He’d be a rocket ride to heartbreak for any woman foolish enough to expect more than short-term thrills.

Good thing that temporary was all she wanted.

Wasn’t it?

Doubts nipped at her conscience. Could she be happy with nice after this?

The self-indulgent beast rode Rex’s back, clawing for sexual satisfaction the way it used to after a concert—only worse. The fangs of need sank deeper into his flesh than ever before.

Give, you selfish SOB. For once in your life give. Don’t take.

He fought to leash his raging hunger and let Juliana drag him up her body one excruciating inch at a time, and then he grabbed the discarded box of condoms and shoved it in her hand. His entire body quaked with the effort it took to restrain himself from taking her—using her—to slake his hunger.

“You want control? Take it.” His voice came out raspy and rough, as if he’d played in too many gigs in smoke-filled bars.

Surprise flashed in Juliana’s passion-glazed eyes. Her breasts jiggled as her breath shuddered in and then out again, fueling his desire. He cradled her, marveling in the softness of the pale skin filling his palms and the sexy little sounds she made when he rolled her nipples between his fingers and thumbs. Those whimpers almost did him in.

Her hands trembled as she carefully slid a fingernail beneath the flap, opened the box and selected a condom. He’d given her the task because he wanted her so badly he was beyond finesse. He’d have shredded the damned box like an overly enthusiastic teen. Juliana gently tore the plastic wrapper with her fingers. He’d have ripped it open with his teeth. And then she slowly and carefully withdrew the protection.

He’d bet she was the kind who never tore wrapping paper. If he weren’t about to burst out of his skin, he might have appreciated her diligence and savored the anticipation of having her hands on him, but right now he was too busy losing his mind to appreciate anything. Fisting his hands, he braced himself, but nothing could prepare him for her light, delicate touch as she smoothed the latex over him.

He ground his teeth and concentrated on a complicated riff. The soft, downward sweep of her fingers came close to stopping his heart and melting his brain, and then her fingers tightened around him. She stroked him from base to tip once, twice, a third time. Too good. Too intense. But he’d promised her control and, dammit, he’d let her have it if it killed him. Which it just might. His breath whistled in through gritted teeth, and he shook with the effort to hold on, but he couldn’t stop the groan boiling from his chest.

The glow of feminine power radiated from her blue eyes, darkened her cheekbones and curved her damp red lips. She knelt over him, straddling his thighs, and he prayed she’d put him out of his misery. The faster the better.

She reached over his shoulder for her belt and his pulse stuttered. Bondage? The banker didn’t seem the type. Not that he couldn’t learn to like sex games if this affair continued. Which it shouldn’t. Couldn’t.

Wouldn’t.

He couldn’t bring her down to his sewer-rat level.

But instead of winding the belt around his wrists, she trailed the knotted ends across his chest and then over his belly like a dozen caressing fingers. The cool beads swept over his skin, electrifying him like a shorted-out microphone. She snaked the belt around his erection and slowly slithered it free. Holy spit. She would kill him. He bowed off the bed, pitching her forward until her soft breasts seared his chest. Fisting his hand in her hair, he drew her mouth to his and kissed her until his lungs burned.

“Stop torturing me,” he warned against her mouth.

He felt her smile against his lips, and then she drew back a few inches and he saw laughter in her eyes. He teetered closer to the edge of reason. “Am I torturing you?”

“You know it.” He grasped her hips and dragged her forward until her hot, wet body covered his, urging her to take him where he needed to be—inside. But she didn’t. She rocked, sliding slick and hot along his length and ripping a hoarse groan straight from his gut. He fisted his hands in the sheet. Wild and impatient, the selfish demon inside him roared. He could give into the clawing hunger and become the self-absorbed SOB who used women or fight it and let Juliana have her way.

He’d fight. But damn, it was hard.

And then he decided two could play this seductive tormenting game. He raked his palms up Juliana’s thighs, found her moisture with his fingers and plied her sensitive flesh until her back arched and she writhed with pleasure. Her gaze locked with his and his heart slammed against his chest.

Take her. Take her. Do it. Now.

She splayed her fingers over his chest and paused with him poised at heaven’s gate. His muscles bunched. He was a split second away from tossing her on her back, ramming home and selfishly taking his pleasure, when Juliana took him with a slow slide deep into the blistering, wet glove of her body.

His lungs emptied in a rush. Stars flashed behind his eyelids. He forced his eyes open and the pleasure magnified. He’d never seen a more seductive sight than Juliana riding him. With her skin flushed and her swollen lips parted, she gasped for breath and then she opened her eyes and met his gaze with a blaze of white-hot passion. Never mind that every deliberate swivel of her hips destroyed dozens of his brain cells, he liked seeing her this way, liked watching Juliana come unglued.

He stroked her, pushing her toward another release, and then her breath hitched and she clenched him tight. Rex lost it. He grasped her waist and held her as he thrust deep and hard and fast as one explosion after another detonated in his body, rocking him with pleasure more intense than any he’d ever experienced.

Juliana collapsed against him and his arms encircled her automatically as if they’d done that before. They hadn’t. He’d never held a woman after he’d used her. But he wanted to hold Juliana, wanted to keep her close.

Trouble. Damn, he was in trouble.

He stared at the ceiling in numb silence as Juliana slipped off him and into the crook of his shoulder. His heart slowed, but his muscles didn’t relax. He couldn’t get a word past the anger and self-disgust choking him as Juliana curled her fingers on his chest. Moments later, her body went slack as sleep took her. She wouldn’t rest as easily and she sure as hell wouldn’t be wearing that satisfied smile if she knew what kind of man she’d shared her body with.

He was clean, disease free. He made damned sure of that by getting tested often. But Juliana deserved better than him. Hell, any woman deserved better than a guy who couldn’t remember the names or faces of more than a handful of his past lovers.

It had been so easy to believe the hype and the media, too easy to believe the world owed him and not the other way around. He’d taken the female fans who’d wanted to show their appreciation in a sexual way as his due. Physical release had been his drug of choice, and now that he had a hit of pure ecstasy coursing through his veins, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist the lure again.

He didn’t know how to have a healthy sexual relationship. Sure, he’d tried a few times, but monogamy hadn’t worked. He’d never stuck with one woman long because he couldn’t. He lacked the gene or the moral fiber or whatever it was that made a man capable of committing. He was flawed.

Loving Juliana—no, not loving—sex with Juliana had unleashed the beast that used women, the jackass who’d disgraced his family and himself.

His parents had never attended his concerts. The demands of the ranch had made getting away for a weekend almost impossible. Then one night, his family had surprised him after a big show. Rex hadn’t known they were there until the roadie had opened the dressing-room door to show them in.

His mother, father and sister had stopped in horrified silence on the threshold, their wide eyes going from Rex to the half-naked groupie coiled around him. Rex had quickly zipped his pants and tucked in his shirttails. But the damage had been done.

Hell, he’d been inside the woman, but he hadn’t known her name and couldn’t introduce her to his family. He’d watched realization dawn on his mother’s face quickly followed by embarrassment and shame. He’d turned to his father, expecting a guy to understand—boys will be boys and all that—but he’d seen disappointment and disgust. And then he’d looked at Kelly’s flushed face. The pride he’d always seen in his sister’s big brown eyes hadn’t been there.

Rex hadn’t been raised that way. He’d been taught since he was knee-high to respect others—especially women. And here he was doing the opposite. Using. Discarding. He’d never forget the awkward tension filling the room as the groupie had straightened her clothing, collected an autograph—because they never left without one—and then she’d squeezed out the door. His family had left right behind her without saying a word.

One sad, disapproving glance over his mother’s shoulder had said it all. Rex had become a man not even a mother could love.

He’d been ashamed of his behavior. But had he learned his lesson? No, he’d defiantly kept right on carousing right up until the day his parents had died.

Self-disgust rolled over him. Tonight he’d begun the cycle of self-destruction again. Without a doubt, he’d made a mistake in getting physical with Juliana Alden.

The question was could he undo the damage?

Or was it too late?

Juliana awoke to limbs weighted with satisfaction, a smile she couldn’t suppress and an empty bed. The latter niggled like an account entry that didn’t belong, but she brushed aside her misgivings. Last night had been amazing. Rex was the most unselfish lover she’d ever had, and he’d brought out a sensual side of her that she hadn’t known existed.

How had she made it to the age of thirty without experiencing such wonderful, levitating, delectable passion? Had to be the man. Self-service orgasms and the partners from her past just couldn’t measure up to Rex Tanner. But then he reportedly had a lot of experience pleasing women.

She cast off the strangely disturbing thought and glanced at the bedside clock. It was far too early for Rex or the girls to be up, but late enough that Juliana should consider getting ready for work soon. She didn’t want to. For the first time ever, she wanted to call in sick so she and Rex could replay last night’s passionate encounter.

Passionate. Her. Yes, her. Bubbles of anticipation floated through her bloodstream. Reality quickly and brutally popped them. This was only lust, wasn’t it? She wouldn’t have slept with Rex if she hadn’t liked him, but she’d never intended their month together to be more than a last fling and an opportunity to prove to Andrea and Holly that she wasn’t missing out on anything by following her mother’s suggestion to marry Wally.

No, this heady feeling couldn’t be more than lust. She wasn’t an impulsive person, and she never made important decisions without thoroughly researching her options. Logic always triumphed over emotion, and logic said Wally was proper husband material. She couldn’t afford to fall for Rex, so she wouldn’t. It was as simple as that. She had two and a half weeks to enjoy his company, and then she’d fulfill her obligations.

Last chance. Last chance.

The straitjacket of expectations tightened around her, making it difficult to take a breath. Goose bumps rose on her skin and her stomach churned. Swallowing her rising anxiety, Juliana sat up and shoved her hair off her face with an unsteady hand. The ceiling fan overhead whirled, cooling her naked skin. She could handle a purely physical relationship. Couldn’t she?

Certainly. Other women did it all the time.

Rising from the bed, she listened for Rex in the adjoining bathroom, but heard nothing. Where could he be? And then she caught sight of her face in the mirror over his dresser and grimaced. Her hair looked like she’d been through a hurricane, and she had mascara smudges beneath her eyes. Vanity forced her to take a quick shower, brush her teeth and apply a touch of makeup. She combed her damp hair, shrugged into her bathrobe and then eased open the bedroom door and jerked to a halt.

Déjà vu. Rex slept on the sofa, wearing only unbuttoned jeans. Her smile faded and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Why would he sleep out here when he had a perfectly good bed—and her—in his room?

Doubt crept over her like an incoming fog. Hadn’t he enjoyed last night as much as she had? Her achy well-loved muscles and the love bites and beard burn he’d left on her skin indicated he had. But maybe she hadn’t measured up to Rex’s other lovers.

Horrified, she pressed a hand to her chest. Had he been faking it? With her vast experience at faking it, surely she would have recognized pretense?

Maybe he was trying to shelter the girls from the adult side of his and Juliana’s relationship. She liked that idea better than thinking he might prefer the too-short sofa to sleeping with her.

Part of her wanted to shake him awake and pepper him with questions until she had her answers. Her more cautious side feared what she’d hear. Confrontation wasn’t a problem for her at work where she knew her subject and often had the supporting data in front of her, but in her personal life, she sucked at it and this morning…She bit her lip and tightened the belt of her robe. Why wasn’t there a manual for mornings after?

She tiptoed into the kitchen and flipped the switch on the coffeepot. Within seconds, the appliance gurgled to life. Juliana watched Rex, half hoping the machine’s noisy hisses and coughs would rouse him. From where she stood, she could see the top of his head, his shoulders and chest. The sudden change in the cadence of his breathing made her pulse quicken. In moments, she’d have her answers. Like them or not.

Rex lifted his left wrist, checking his watch, she guessed, and then he swiped his hand over his face. She wished she could see his expression. Was he smiling as she’d been when she’d first awakened? Or did he have regrets?

He inhaled deeply, and then sat up and shoved his hair back with both hands. His head turned abruptly and he spotted her. She saw the exact second he recalled the intimacy they’d shared. Tension stiffened his features and his spine straightened. Not a good sign when she’d hoped for a smile and a hello-babe-let’s-go-back-to-bed-before-the-girls-awake kiss.

Clinging to his earlier declaration that he wasn’t a morning person and hoping that was the only cause of his less than happy-to-see-her reaction, Juliana swallowed to ease the dryness in her mouth. “Good morning.”

“’Morning.” He slowly rose and faced her with a dark, inscrutable gaze.

The blatant masculinity in his beard-roughened face, broad chest and the unbuttoned jeans sent adrenaline and estrogen pulsing through her system. “You didn’t have to sleep out here.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Because you didn’t want the girls to find us in bed together?” If she were a superstitious person, she’d cross her fingers.

“Because last night shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again.”

The arousal simmering in her stomach turned cold and hard like cooling candle wax. Last night she’d had the best sex of her life and he was willing to dismiss it? “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you mind if I ask why?”

“Yes.”

She waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she asked, “Yes what?”

“Yes, I mind if you ask.”

“That was a rhetorical question. Why can’t we make love again?”

A nerve in his jaw twitched. “Look, Juliana, you’re an attractive woman. It’s been a while since I…It’s been a while for me. I should have controlled myself last night.”

This grew worse by the second. “Are you saying you were just scratching an itch and any woman would have done?”

He hesitated and those silent seconds crushed her heart in a vise. Breathless with pain, Juliana turned back to the coffeepot and filled a mug with unsteady hands. She didn’t want the fragrant brew, didn’t even know if she could keep it in her churning stomach, but she couldn’t face him right now.

And then an even more painful realization hit. Lust wouldn’t hurt this much. That meant that her feelings for Rex might be more than simple physical desire. Was she falling for him? Her heart pounded. No, she couldn’t be. He didn’t fit in with her life plan or her career goals.

“Juliana, I’m sorry.”

She straightened her spine, lifted her chin and met his solemn gaze. She tightened her fingers around the mug in a grip that would break more fragile china. “I’m not sorry.”

She wasn’t. Taking control of their relationship, her sexual pleasure and her life was—what had he said?—oh, yes, a journey she had to take. But she wasn’t the auditor with the highest success rate at Alden Bank and Trust for nothing. When she wanted something, she didn’t give up without a fight. And she wanted more of the passion Rex Tanner had shown her. More of her reluctant rebel. She wanted—needed—to store up memories for later.

Did he want the same? She didn’t know, but she’d learned early on that if you wanted something and didn’t speak up, then you got exactly what you asked for. Nothing. And if that meant she had to become the seducer instead of the seducee then she’d willingly take on the role.

Rex exhaled harshly. “You don’t get it. I can’t be the man you need. You’re hearts and flowers and forever. I’m not. I let people down, Juliana. It’s what I do best.”

Forever? Her mind snagged on the word. “I didn’t ask for forever, Rex. All I’m asking for are the two and a half weeks remaining in your auction package.”

His jaw muscles bunched.

She closed the gap between them and opened her hand over his chest. His heart beat frantically beneath her palm. “Seventeen days, Rex. That’s all I want.”

Now that you’ve tasted passion, can you live without it?

Of course she could. She had her life mapped out and if she wanted to make it to the top, the way her mother had, then Juliana couldn’t afford detours. Especially not the kind that made her think of taking days off to laze in bed with a lover.