Millionaire Playboys. Emilie Rose

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СКАЧАТЬ 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 СКАЧАТЬ