Millionaire Playboys: Paying the Playboy's Price
Oh, man. He swallowed, but his mouth remained as dry as a dust bowl. “No stereo.”
She blinked. “You don’t own a stereo? Isn’t that a little unusual given your previous occupation?”
“Music’s no longer a part of my life.”
“Why?”
For a lot of reasons, none of which he’d share. “No time.”
“Was it hard to walk away from something you loved?”
Dammit. Why did she insist on getting inside his head? Every time they met, she peppered him with questions. “No.”
Liar. There were times—like today, like now—when feelings bottled up inside him and his fingers twitched for his guitar so he could pour out those emotions. As a teen and later as an adult, he’d worked through his tangled thoughts with music, singing, writing lyrics or just playing melodies long into the night. Sometimes he’d thought music was the only thing that kept him sane.
The more time he spent with Juliana, the more his thoughts strayed to the old Fender in the back of his closet. But he wouldn’t pull out the instrument, wouldn’t let her force him back into that world. A world that had cost him his family, his home, his friends and his self-respect.
She rose and crossed to where he stood by the window overlooking the dark street below. He sucked in an unsteady breath and her spices-and-flowers scent filled his nostrils. “How did you do it? How did you find the courage to make your own life?”
The uncertainty in her eyes knocked him senseless. If she’d boldly come on to him, whispered naughty intentions in his ear or just planted those delicious red lips on his, he could have resisted her. Probably. But the doubts clouding her eyes shredded his defenses.
“What’s wrong with your life?” From where he stood, her life looked pretty damned good.
She tipped her head back. Her breath swept across his lips and his pulse stalled. “Expectations. Theirs. Mine. Sometimes it feels like my life’s not my own and what I want doesn’t matter.”
Sympathy softened his clenched muscles. This was the stuff she hadn’t told the reporter, either, the first night or tonight. And he’d bet these were the demons that had driven her to buy him at the auction. He wanted to know more and yet he didn’t. Knowing meant understanding. Understanding meant weakening. Weakening meant failing. Himself. Kelly. The girls. Juliana.
He didn’t want to like Juliana, didn’t want to respect her, but if anybody could understand the pressure of others’ expectations, he could.
He rolled his tense shoulders. “I know what you mean. For as far back as I can remember, my life was mapped out. Most kids get asked what they want to be when they grow up. Nobody ever asked me. I was born to take over the family ranch like my father and my grandfather before him.”
“But that’s not what you wanted?”
Just thinking about being tied to the ranch made his skin shrink. “I didn’t want to spend year after year worrying about drought, disease or whether there would be enough money left to put food on the table after a rough winter. I didn’t want to die young because I worked myself into an early grave like my grandfather. I wanted more. And I wanted out. Out of that one-stoplight town. Out from under my father’s thumb.”
Why hadn’t he ever tried to explain his fears to his parents instead of hurling abuse at them? “I took off. But not without burning my bridges first. I followed my heart. That doesn’t mean it didn’t get me into trouble.”
Her teeth worried her bottom lip. He fisted his hands against the urge to free the soft swell from assault. “So you do understand. And all I need is the courage to follow my heart?”
“Something like that, but there are always consequences for the choices you make, Juliana. And sometimes by the time you realize the price you’ve paid is too high, it’s too late to fix it.”
All she needed was courage, but courage was the one thing Juliana lacked most at the moment.
If this had been a face-off with the top dog at the FDIC, she’d have been rock steady, but all she wanted was to feel like a woman instead of a pawn in a banking merger. The passion in Rex’s kiss could give her that.
His heat and masculine scent ensnared her. Juliana’s legs trembled and she felt slightly dizzy from an adrenaline rush. Couldn’t he tell how much she needed his touch? Why wouldn’t he kiss her?
Why don’t you kiss him?
A novel idea. And a scary one. But taking an active role wasn’t nearly as scary as it once had been because she liked and trusted Rex.
But what if he rebuffed her again? Would she have to give up and admit her tepid romance with Wally was all she deserved? A touch of panic quickened her pulse.
“What is it you want so badly?” he asked.
“I want to take control of my life, to do something just because I want to not because it’s expected or because it’s the wisest course of action.” She swallowed and dampened her lips. “I want you, Rex Tanner.”
His eyes slammed shut and his jaw muscles bunched. “Bad idea.”
“I think it’s a great idea.” Faking moxie she didn’t possess, she rose on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his. He stiffened and remained as rigid as a sun-baked brick wall while she brushed her lips over his once, twice, a third time. If not for the rapid hammering of his heart beneath the palms she’d braced on his chest, she’d think him unaffected. Encouraged by that telling sign, she licked his bottom lip. A groan rumbled from deep in his throat.
Slowly, she settled back on her feet. “Show me how to take control, Rex.”
A battle raged in his eyes. Just when she’d convinced herself she’d played her cards and lost, and her hopes began to sink, he snatched her upper arms, yanked her close and slammed his mouth over hers in a hard, unrestrained kiss.
Shock lasted scant seconds and then a myriad of sensations engulfed her. The inferno of his tongue as it sliced through the seam of her lips to tangle with hers, the heat of his hands as they splayed over her hips and pulled her against the branding iron of his erection combined with his taste and scent to overwhelm and arouse her beyond her wildest expectations. The infusion of pure, undiluted passion made Juliana drunk with desire and doubly glad she’d never been exposed to this level of arousal before, because without a doubt, the rush was addictive.
His hands skated upward until his thumbs reached the bare skin above her jeans. He drew circles on either side of her navel. She broke the kiss to gasp for air. The simple caress made her a lover of low-rider jeans for life. Her gaze lifted from his beard-shadowed jaw to kiss-dampened lips and then to his dark, hungry eyes.
His unblinking gaze held hers as one big hand coiled in the dangling end of her belt, holding her captive. The other raked upward, sweeping beneath her voile camisole and over her waist and ribs to cup her breast. Her fragile bra was no barrier to the back-and-forth motion of his thumb over the sensitive tip. A knot of need tightened in her belly, pulling tauter with each slow pass until every thought centered on quenching the fire he’d ignited. Her lids grew heavy. She fought to stay focused on Rex’s face.
No man had ever looked at her that way, as if he would strip her bare and take her where she stood or die trying.
She liked it. Liked knowing she’d reached the limits of his control. And hers.
A shiver chased over her skin. She’d always dreamed of a man who wanted her—her—not the Alden heiress. And she’d found him. Too bad forever wasn’t in the cards. Even if she wasn’t a boring bank auditor who calculated the odds of every endeavor, she could never hold the attention of a man who thrived on taking risks, a man who had the courage to confront his fears.
But she wouldn’t think about that. Not now.
He worked magic with his fingers, teasing her, tantalizing her. Her nails curled and unfurled against his chest, but his T-shirt was in the way. She wanted to touch his skin. Before she could pull the hem of his shirt from his waistband, he’d released the front catch of her bra and palmed her. Rational thought evaporated the moment his hot fingers enclosed her. She dug her nails into his waist, fisting cotton and tugging him closer.
His mouth slanted over hers, softer this time, but still ravenous. He suckled her bottom lip, bit it gently and then soothed her with his tongue.
One of them was trembling. Her? Him? Who cared?
He removed his hand, and she whimpered a protest at the loss of warmth, but then he whisked her top over her head and crushed the fragile fabric in his hand. He lifted it to his face and inhaled deeply as if drawing in her essence. Wow. So sexy. And then Rex backed toward the bedroom, leading her by the leash of her macramé belt. Her heart raced, yet her feet seemed to move in slow motion.
Inside the bedroom he stopped. “You’re a smart lady. Tell me to get out.”
She gulped air and responded by closing and locking the door. He dropped her blouse and flicked her bra straps over her shoulders with one finger. Juliana shrugged and the lacy garment fell to the floor. Rex traced the curves of her breasts with his eyes and then with long fingers. He grazed her tight nipples with his short nails and her breath shuddered in and out again. Dragging her by her belt, he backed toward the bed and sat, pulling her between his splayed legs to take her nipple into his hot mouth.
Her head fell back on a moan. She slapped her fingers over her mouth. With the girls next door, she had to be quiet. And for the first time in her life, being quiet during sex might be a challenge.
Rex untied her belt, but held both ends, holding her hostage—not that she intended going anywhere now that he was finally doing what she’d hoped for all along. He ravaged her breasts with gentle scrapes of his raspy evening beard, soft tugs from his seductive lips and silken swipes from his hot, wet tongue, and then he drew her deep into his mouth. Her knees wobbled. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and then tangled them in his hair. His leather tie was in the way. She pulled it free and combed her fingers through the long, soft strands.
Rex plucked at the button and zip of her jeans. His knuckles brushed her navel and her stomach muscles rippled involuntarily. His big palm scorched a path from one hip to the other as he eased the snug denim down one inch at a time. By the time he got the fabric to her knees, she was ready to rip her jeans off, throw them across the room and beg him to fill the empty ache expanding inside her. She braced herself on his shoulders and stepped out of the pants. Eager, impatient, she burned with an unfamiliar urgency.
Rex drew back to examine her itty-bitty panties with an appreciative gaze. Had she ever felt this desirable in her life? No. Bless the lingerie store at the mall.
His fingers hooked under the lace, raking her panties down her legs and discarding them, and then he lifted her jeans from the floor, pulled the belt free of the loops and stretched it between his hands. With slow, deliberate movements he wound the ends around each wrist. Her heart missed a beat.
“Close your eyes and turn around, Juliana.” The rough order made her quiver.
The time for her walk on the wild side had arrived. The question was did she have the courage to follow through?
Seven
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.