GOOD-LOOKING MEN were commonplace in Hollywood. Her exes were all eye candies. One of them was even a supermodel. She didn’t gawk at good-looking men. They gawked at her.
She was gawking now. She, Valenna Jones, pop superstar was staring rudely at a man.
He was good-looking. Super. Enough to be a movie star but not a supermodel. His aura was not for visual enjoyment splashed like a dandy in the pages of fashion magazines or the runways.
He looked kind of familiar, too. But she just couldn’t remember where she’d seen him. She’d met a lot of good-looking men in her ten-year career. At one point, they all looked the same.
But this one had a very strong presence, as if an invisible force surrounded him, making her gravitate toward him, but at the same time, she felt wary of him.
He was no eye candy. He was hard candy. Alpha. Too masculine. The unflinching way he was looking at her told her he was the boss. He didn’t take orders from anyone. Certainly not from her who was the bossiest boss.
And she was still gawking.
“Ms. Jones.” He tipped his head slightly in a formal greeting.
He had an accent. Spanish?
“Y-yes...?” That barely left her throat which suddenly became parched.
“May I have a private moment with you?”
Educated, cultured speech. He pronounced every word with emphasis. He dragged his Rs more than the other letters. Who is he?
She swallowed. Her insides were suddenly fluttering like crazy. What the hell was happening? She cleared her throat. “And who are you, sir?”
“Giane. 50 million dollars.”
Her eyes widened.
She touched her throat. Her heart seemed to have jumped there, blocking her air.
THIS is the 50-million dollar dick uhm... bid?!
“You’re the man Mr. Reed is representing?” Anouska intruded.
Darn, she totally forgot Anouska was even in the room.
The man nodded at Anouska. “Yes. May I have a word with Ms. Jones, in private. Please?” he asked again politely. Too politely. His eyes brooked no arguments though. He expected to be obeyed. At once.
Anouska glanced at her, her eyes twinkling, her cheeks, flushed. She knew that look. Her BFF was crushing on the man. Like who wouldn’t be? He was...unreal.
“Will you be fine?” Anouska asked her.
She nodded wordlessly.
Anouska walked to the door. “Come on, Baba, let’s have a nightcap at the lounge.”
“I don’t think we should, Nusha,” Baba resisted, his suspicious eyes trained at the guest’s back. “There’s another man outside. Mean-looking bastard.”
Giane’s lips twitched into a small smile. “That’s Titus, my bodyguard. He can join you at the lounge.”
Baba assumed a pugnacious expression and crossed his arms on his massive chest. He stood barring the door like a sentinel. “I don’t wanna have a drink with him. I’m staying right here.”
Giane shrugged his broad shoulders. “Fine, you can stay there.”
Valenna swallowed when he speared her with a smoldering look. “So, you want me to wear a condom, Ms. Jones?”
She cleared her throat. “Baba, it’s alright. Have a drink with Nusha.”
“Are you sure, Vanna?”
“Yes, yes. Go.”
“I’ll bring that mean-looking robot with us to the bar. I don’t trust him outside our door.”
“Yes. Go.”
“Remember, mister, the entire room is equipped with CCTVs and you don’t know where they are. Don’t get any ideas. I’ll be watching here.” Baba raised his cellphone.
Giane glanced at Baba. “Your treasure is safe with me, Baba. We’ll just talk, I swear. You can listen, too, if you want.”
“Baba, turn that off,” Valenna said, flushing.
“But it’s against security protocol, Vanna!”
“Just turn it off and go. Shoo!” She dismissed Baba with a flick of her hand.
“Let’s go, Baba.”Anouska grabbed the giant’s arm, dragged him outside and shut the door.
Awkward silence.
“Security protocol? He takes his job more seriously than a presidential security detail,” Giane said, amusement in his eyes.
“That, he is. I’ve had him since I was 14.”
Frosh, why won’t her tummy settle? She felt queasy and she had a light dinner. “Uhm, please sit down.” She gestured to the wide, sectional sofa. She needed to sit down, too, as her legs had turned to jelly and she had strong, dancer legs at that!
They both settled on the sofa, a good two meters separating them. He was halfway facing her. She sat demurely, slightly facing him, her hands clasped on her lap. She couldn’t meet his eyes.
Direct eye contact was something she was a master of. She could outstare anybody, even her father who was the CEO of her growing empire. She wasn’t easily intimidated by men. In fact, she couldn’t remember ever getting intimidated by men. How come she was fidgeting and avoiding looking him straight in the eye?
Sit still, dammit! Look at him! Eye-contact!
“I’m sorry to disturb you. I know you need to rest for your concert tomorrow.”
She smiled at him shyly and held his stare. “It’s okay...The show is at night. I have plenty of time to rest.”
Frosh, she’d never seen such blue eyes...or were they indigo? She’d never been fascinated with a man’s eye color before. She had to see it in broad daylight to be sure...Stop!
“Choose me.”
Like I could still consider the others after seeing him! Hands down, I would like him to be my first lover! Oh Frosh! If only she could decide on looks alone. She had other things in her criteria. Other more important things.
Nonsense! What could be more important than indigo eyes, to-die-for cheekbones, lips that could rival Angelina Jolie’s but looks way better on him and a body that will make a woman jealous of his clothes?
“Look at me, cara.”
Cara. Did that mean something? An endearment perhaps? It sounded nice. Really nice. She would like to hear him say it again.
She met his eyes and braved getting seared. To the soul. His stare seemed to suck her into him and she couldn’t look away.
“I’m clean. I always use rubber. Never failed to. The world is a dangerous place. Always be protected.”
Frosh! She had never discussed condom with any of her exes. There was no reason to. This stranger was talking about it as if he was discussing a meal they’d share together. And was Baba listening to this? Knowing Baba, he would listen to this. Her bodyguard didn’t trust any man near her except her father and brother. All her exes hated Baba as he would lurk in the background during her dates.
She stood up. “Come.”
He looked puzzled.
“Follow me.” She turned around and entered her bedroom.
Oh God, what am I doing?
He followed her into the room.
He was smiling. “No CCTV here?”
“No. Baba can be so zealous in guarding me.”
“Good. He’s just doing his job.”
She sat on an armchair beside the bed.
Awkward silence again.
“Are you on the pill?”
“Huh?”
“Are you taking some contraceptives?”
Frosh, what a question! “Uhm yes. I had the prescribed injectable last month...since I...since I decided to...do this.”
“Good.” He leaned his back on the wall.
She fidgeted with her fingers again. Seconds ticked by and her usually saucy bitch of a tongue was glued to the back of her throat.
“If I wear a condom, you won’t enjoy it much. The latex will abrade your tender flesh. It’s less flexible than human skin and without natural lubrication from me aiding yours, it will hurt more.”
Oh God. She could feel her skin tingling. Her pores seemed to emit steam from listening to him talk about such intimate things. Was she getting aroused? Oh boy. Just words and he had her fluttering like a million butterfly wings down there. What a feeling!
“Of course, you know that, right?”
She bit her lower lip, flushing. “Uhm...” No, she didn’t know. No man had ever come close to touching the gate of her treasure. She almost laughed out loud. Her state of chastity sounded like a lame joke even in front of this man who wanted it for 50 million dollars. This was so embarrassing!
His eyes narrowed a bit. “You can’t be that inexperienced.”
Oh frosh, was he disappointed? She took a quick peek at him from under her lashes. He was looking at her speculatively.
“Surely you’ve touched a man’s cock before? Blown it?”
She gasped, shocked senseless at his bluntness. But her embarrassment was replaced by affront. He had this disbelieving look on his face now.
“No? But you do know how to pleasure yourself, yes?”
She wanted to sink into the carpet, feeling like an oddball all over again.
He shook his head, looking at her like she was from another planet. He combed his hair with his fingers. “Dio,” he said under his breath. Was that a curse?
Old insecurities resurfaced. The snide remarks her exes threw at her for refusing to give up her virginity yet. Did he think she was weird, too?
She squared her shoulders and raised her chin, her defense mechanism kicking in. “If you’re disappointed and would rather not, you can withdraw—”
“No.”
“Look, I’m not—”
He straightened and walked to close the gap between them. Slowly, he knelt in front of her, only a foot separating them. His knees brushed against her toes. The scent of him, fresh and woodsy, tantalized her nose. So manly. So good.
“I want your virginity. I’ll be your first.”
He said it softly but with such certainty that melted her insecurities right away. “But I haven’t...”
He put his hand on top of her hands on her lap. The first contact of their skin made her freeze for a few seconds. Then her pulse escalated even more.
He squeezed her hands, shooting electric currents into her system.
“You feel that?” His voice was like hot, melted, dark chocolate, strong and yet gentle. Sweet and decadent. “Our energies are vibrating in our veins, feeding on each other.”
She nodded, unable to speak. She’d held hands with all his exes but nothing like this happened. The heat being generated by their touching skin was so intense that she wanted to pull her hand from his grasp and yet she wanted the heat to consume her.
“Thank you for choosing me.”
She stared at him.
And she just knew. He was THE one. Her choice. The man she would surrender her virginity to.
Contrary to what many believed of her after auctioning her cherry, she was still as hopeless a romantic as ever. She was waiting for that special spark, that unique chemistry that she’d never felt with a man before. She’d loved all her exes to a certain extent, but no one had awakened her sensuality enough to make her break her purity vow.
But now...oh now...oh mother of all froshes!
She smiled at him, a full, wide smile that expressed the joy and gratitude in her heart. Now she wouldn’t need to choose tomorrow. She was thankful he came to see her tonight. “You’re welcome.”
And it just happened naturally.
The kiss.
He leaned toward her. She leaned toward him.
They met halfway.
Their lips touched.
Beautiful.
Indescribable.
It was the gentlest kiss. He was not in a hurry. Not intrusive. Not demanding.
Just sweet. Very sweet.
And the fluttering in her core got worse...or better.
It was a perfect kiss.
When their faces separated, they stared deeply in each other’s eyes.
They both smiled. Like they shared a secret or something. And she didn’t know him from Adam.
“I’ll try to make it good for you. I promise, piccola.”
What did he call her? It sounded nice and sweet. “I have no high expectations.”
He chuckled, the sound so sexy it warmed her heart in a peculiar way. “Thank you for not putting the pressure on me. But I do feel responsible.”
“Thank you. I’ll try not to be a crybaby.”
He grinned and kissed her again.
She was the bomb. The hydrogen kind.
He was a control freak in every aspect of his existence, but not tonight. She was obliterating his common sense, stripping him of his well-honed defense mechanisms.
With just a kiss.
And it wasn’t enough. He had to taste her again. Really taste her.
She was sweet, her lips tasting of some strawberry flavor. He loved strawberries and when he loved something, he’d stock himself with an endless supply. So, he had a strawberry plantation.
Valenna Jones was revving up his engine faster and harder than any other woman he’d had before and he’d had plenty. They all faded from his mind in that moment as he kissed her with a gut-gnawing hunger he’d never felt before.
He had to have an endless supply of this, too.
“Cara mia, you’re so sweet.”
She bit her lower lip and then her tongue darted out to swipe against her upper lip. “You, too.”
This woman knew how to drive a man nuts but she looked innocent with her big, whiskey eyes and honey-blond hair framing her beautiful face like a waterfall of sunshine. Merda, she was making him wax poetic about her freakin’ hair. He was no cheeseball, but she also smelled of lavender fields in Tuscany during summer.
He was getting lost. In her smell. In her taste. In her softness.
And he was hard. So hard it hurt. His cock felt swollen like a balloon stretched beyond its air capacity. This kind of arousal was rare to come by. He’d forgotten the last time he was turned on to this level. This was the kind of lust that made a man want to weep, beg and grovel. He would die for this kind of pain. Everyday.
“Valenna...I want you.”