Never to Love (2 page)

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Authors: Aimie Grey

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BOOK: Never to Love
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“I’m here with my clients. They’re around here somewhere, but I’m off the clock. You?”

“My brothers are over there,” not wanting to point them out, I tilted my head in their general direction, “and my dad’s wandering around somewhere.”

Scanning the decent-sized cocktail lounge, my eyes locked onto the perfect target. “Follow me.” Grabbing her hand, I practically dragged her across the room to a corner somewhat shrouded in shadows. The soft music and low, rolling din of the bar added to the excitement; we’d have to be quiet to avoid being discovered.

Pushing her against a free-standing rectangular pillar, which was just wide enough to block the view from the rest of the room, I lifted the hem of her flowy, knee-length dress and dropped to my knees.

The tent created by her skirt made it slightly difficult to see, but I could still make out a pair of sexy-as-fuck white panties. No way was this woman a virgin, but the virginal tableau had my dick begging to defile her. Tugging the lace to the side, with a single swipe of my tongue I determined she was more than ready for me, and—what the hell was that?

Forgetting about modesty for the moment, I lifted the front of her emerald green dress until there was enough light to make out what I’d felt. “Is that…?” At my dick’s insistence, I didn’t finish the question or give her a chance to answer.

I unfastened my belt and opened my fly just wide enough to free my cock without risking anything getting caught in the teeth of my zipper. After rolling on the condom I’d pulled from my pocket, I lifted her up and pinned her against the pillar.

My pants still rested on my ass, and everything else was concealed by my suit jacket and her skirt, which she’d quickly arranged around her legs once I had her securely in position. At least if we were caught, the cops wouldn’t be able to charge us with public nudity. Public indecency, however, was another story.

“You never told me what name I need to shout, not that I will.”

“Juli.” Her smirk conveyed her lack of confidence in my ability to control my volume—or maybe it was overconfidence in her ability to get me to yell her name no matter how much I resisted.

“Nice to fuck you, Juli. My name is Thomas. I don’t scream, but I hope
your
vocal cords are warmed up and ready to go.”

Before she could argue, I tugged her panties to the side and shut her up with one hard, swift stroke of my dick. The screaming would have to wait a bit; I wasn’t ready to get caught yet.

Determination dominated her expression as she bit her lower lip so hard I was sure it would bleed. Since I set the pace, I had the advantage in our little game.

At least, that’s what I thought.

When I slowed down, she tightened her legs around my hips and used the newfound leverage to bounce on my cock.

Juli’s hands haphazardly threaded through my short hair but didn’t grab on or pull. “It’s too perfect. Looks like a fucking Ken doll,” was her quiet, yet labored, response to the question I hadn’t asked.

When I’d least expected, she clenched around me, working the muscles gripping my dick in a way I wasn’t sure was humanly possible.

The desire to best her was now barely a whisper on the outer fringe of my subconscious, but somehow I had the presence of mind to slam my mouth onto hers to muffle my cries. Aside from going through a series of meaningless pre-fuck steps to get some of my previous “dates” to spread their legs a little faster, I hadn’t kissed a woman in years. I wouldn’t call what was happening a kiss, though. It was more of a battle of lips and teeth and tongues; a skirmish to establish dominance, one which neither of us would surrender.

And I fucking couldn’t get enough.

My thrusts faltered when the realization hit me, but the smile of impending victory I felt form against my mouth quickly brought me back to the moment, returning my focus to the mission at hand.

“Come for me, Juli,” I said with a growl against her lips.

She pulled back and looked at me as if I’d said the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. “Do you seriously think it works that way?” Well, fuck, it had before. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news—”

Her thought was interrupted when I changed my angle of attack on her pussy. She felt so fucking good, I had to think about my youngest brother’s bitch of a fiancée to keep from blowing my load before Juli had a chance to come all over my cock.

The horrible images in my head turned out to be all for nothing. She masterfully clenched her pussy one more time, and I completely lost it. The only thing allowing me to save any face at all was the fact that she came just as violently a split second later.

After setting her on her feet, I tucked myself back into my pants while she arranged her panties and skirt. Heaving for breath, I stared into her victorious green eyes and said, “You may have won this battle, but I will win the war.”

“You seem so confident,” she replied, her breathing almost as heavy as mine.

“I’m just getting warmed up. Your turn to pick the venue.”
Please make it someplace noisy.
“Make it somewhere I can get a better look at your piercing.” The mental image of tiny dice, which seemingly hovered around her clit, had me ready to shoot again.

Taking my hand, she led me to the entrance across from the bar and surveyed the main casino floor. Her entire body perked up when she found what she was looking for.

Fuck. I needed to come up with an exception to my rule. One night wasn’t going to be enough with her. I wasn’t sure how much longer she would be in Vegas, but I still had a couple of nights left.

As she pulled me through the sea of slot machines, I realized I had no other choice. Three and out was the new rule for women who looked like a supermodel or fucked like a porn star. Juli was both, except unlike a supermodel, she was petite and curvy in all the right places. With how well I just fucked her, I hoped I would be able to pry her off my dick at the end of the third night.

CHAPTER TWO

Juli

After my third orgasm of the night, which I refused to admit was one of the best I’d ever had, I found myself nearly passed out on the floor backstage of the largest theater in the resort during the second encore of a sold-out concert. A large shipping crate shielded my body from the cast and crew, and thanks to the deafening music, we didn’t have to be quiet this time.

“Ugh. Please tell me you aren’t serious,” I complained, having to yell to be heard over the song coming from the large speakers flanking the stage. I should have known it was too good to be true.

“Just think about it. Two more nights of amazing sex, and then we go our separate ways.”

“No,” I replied succinctly. The man was hot and knew how to work his dick, but I’d been down this road before, and I wasn’t about to make a return trip.

Irritated I would miss out on the remaining three orgasms I had planned for the night, I managed to pull my tired body to my feet. If he would’ve kept his mouth shut and let me rest for ten more minutes…

Adjusting my panties, which somehow hadn’t been shredded in the past four hours, and smoothing my hair, I turned to leave.

“How about we pretend I never brought it up and finish out the night?” Thomas pleaded.

As if that would change my mind. Begging led to clinging which resulted in awkwardness and distraction. Not worth it.

“It was fun fucking you while it lasted, but I’m done. I’m sure you can easily find someone who would be more than happy to keep your dick warm,” I said.

“But—”

“Rules are rules,” I shouted over my shoulder as I walked away from the man fumbling to get his dick back in his pants. Before he could finish, I took a left and got lost in a swarm of roadies and groupies, disappearing from Thomas’s sight.

One a.m. wasn’t terribly late for me to be awake, but after traveling this morning and the few hours of aerobics I’d just engaged in, my body was ready for sleep. My mind, not so much. Whether or not my friends, who also happened to be my clients, would still be up was hit or miss. If they were still up and not engaged in aerobic activities of their own, I could hang out with them for a while. If not, I’d go to my room and work until I was tired enough to crash.

Marina opened the door to their suite within seconds of my knock. “Hey there. I thought you’d be out having ‘fun’ all night.” Her knowing smile demonstrated just how close we were. The dirty details of my personal life weren’t open for public consumption, and the men I fucked never found out my full name or the fact I worked for two of the highest-paid actors in the world. Marina occasionally enjoyed a good story, but this one wouldn’t be shared with anyone, not even my best friend.

“I thought so too, but it crapped out,” I said, flashing her a fake pout. “Hey, Tate.” I smiled at Marina’s boyfriend and frequent costar as he headed my way.

“Hey, Julianne, got a minute?”

“Of course.”

“We’ll be right back,” Tate announced as he led me into the hallway, with two members of their security detail following close behind. Thankfully, Tate was wearing his hiding-in-plain-sight outfit, which consisted of ratty jeans, a football jersey, and a ball cap.

Tate was a grown man, and he definitely wasn’t a wimp, but he also wasn’t a big, buff, intimidating action hero. The man was born to wear a suit, and he looked damn fine in them. If he weren’t like a brother to me and madly in love with my best friend, I’d totally do him. Only once, of course.

When in stealth mode, Tate could usually get away unnoticed, but if a single fangirl recognized him, and I’m sure there were hundreds still wandering around the busy hotel this time of night, he wouldn’t be able to push his way through the swarm of bodies that would surround him within seconds. No one could.

“What’s up?”

Leading me down the hall a little farther, he lowered his voice so the bodyguards wouldn’t be able to hear. “There’s something you need to know, but I can’t tell you all of it, and you can’t mention it to Marina.” His request sank to the pit of my stomach like my mother’s meatloaf—her maternal instincts kicked in about twenty-six years too late, and my digestive system paid the price.

Aside from gifts and surprise parties, I’d never known Tate to keep a secret from her. I trusted him and knew he loved her more than anything. For those reasons, I decided to honor his request while praying he needed help picking out an engagement ring.

“Okay, I promise. What’s going on?”

“I saw you ‘chatting’ with Thomas Ramsay earlier,” he said without preamble. “You know I try to stay out of your, um, private life, but things are about to get complicated between his family and us.”

“Hold up.” This could not be happening. “You’re telling me you know him?”

“Sort of. As I said, things are complicated. As our publicist, this is something you’ll need to know, but Marina needs to hear about what’s going on with the Ramsays before anyone else. I made arrangements to tell her on this trip, but the timing turned out to be terrible.”

The usually happy and carefree man’s head fell slightly forward and I feared whatever was happening with Thomas’s family was not going to be pleasant.

“Please don’t do anything that will hurt her,” was all I could say.

Tate’s head jerked up in surprise. “No, no. It’s nothing like that. I think this will make her happy.”

“Then why do you look like your character in the movie where the love of his life had a terminal illness with only days to live?” I exaggerated.

The corner of his mouth quirked into one of his trademark half-grins, but it wasn’t nearly as bright as usual. “It’s complicated, remember? You know I’d never let anything hurt her.”

He wouldn’t let anything hurt her, but would he let something hurt himself? If it protected Marina, the answer would be a resounding yes. “Are you okay?”

“I will be.”

Running his fingers through his short hair, he sighed and then said, “Will you keep this to yourself for a few days, please? I’ll tell her everything when we get back to LA and then we’ll fill you in.”

“You know I’m going to hold you to it.” I didn’t point out that I really didn’t have anything to tell other than vague references to the man I’d fucked and dumped, and I’d do my best to take that information to my grave. “Don’t worry about Thomas. If at all possible, I’m going to avoid him like the tossed bouquet at a wedding.” Realizing tonight’s misadventures would only stay buried if Tate kept it to himself as well, I added, “Since I’m keeping your secret, I want you to keep one for me.”

“What is it?”

“You didn’t see a damned thing tonight. Got it?”

“Got it, but I don’t think it’s as bad as you think.”

“Trust me, it is. Now let’s get back in there before everyone freaks the fuck out and thinks we were kidnapped. I’ll leave it to you to come up with an excuse.”

Tate never outright lied to Marina, so we both knew he’d walk in there and tell her something was up, but he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. Being the disgustingly perfect couple they were, she’d be incredibly supportive and not pressure him into talking before he was ready. Things might get awkward for me if Marina knew I knew, not that she’d say or do anything to make me feel that way. “You go on back. I think I’ll go play blackjack for a little while.”

“Thanks, Julianne.”

*

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