Touching the Billionaire (Bad Boy Desires Book 1)

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Touching the Billionaire (Bad Boy Desires Book 1) Page 9

by Holly Jaymes


  As she came, her sweet juices filled my mouth with a glorious taste and I thought I could stay here forever. If only my dick wasn’t about to explode. Because it could no longer be denied, I moved up her body then rolled off to the side, reaching hopefully toward my bedside drawer to pull out a condom. I hated how desperate I felt because I really would’ve liked to have spent more time investigating her soft luscious body. But my dick wasn’t having any of that.

  As I lay on my back and tore open the condom wrapper, she maneuvered over me, straddling my thighs like she had before. Her hands pressed against my abdomen, sliding up to my chest, giving my pecs a quick squeeze before sliding down again. Then her hand wrapped around my dick and I about came out of my skin.

  “Fuck.” I pushed her hands away and rolled the condom on. Then I gripped her hips and pulled her over me. “Put me out of my misery, Madeline.”

  She positioned herself over me and then slowly took me in until I filled her body. The most fucking fantastic pleasure flooded my body as her pussy gripped my dick. She rocked her hips back and forth, amplifying the sensations and making me gasp as her movements sent tiny electric shocks coursing through my blood.

  I was quickly careening toward the edge. Too fast, I thought. So I gritted my teeth, working to hold off the inevitable explosion that was coming. I forced myself to watch her. She looked so Goddamned beautiful and sexy as she moved over me. Her head lifted slightly, her eyes closed, and all that glorious red hair cascading down around her. Her tits swayed with her movements, and my mouth watered to taste one again, so I levered up, bringing my hands around her back and pulling one of those sweet nipples to my mouth to suck it. She let out a gasp. I loved the sound she made as I worked to make her feel good. I moved to her other nipple, using my hand to massage the one I just sucked.

  “Oh God,” she moaned.

  Her pussy began convulsing in waves around my dick, increasing the friction until I could hardly stand it anymore and I fell back with no choice but to give in to my own need for release.

  “Yes, fuck me. I’m almost there.”

  She leaned over me, pressing her hands against my chest, gripping my pecs as she closed her eyes and focused on taking her own pleasure. Underneath her, I moved with her, each time my pleasure ratcheting up and up until I was sure my head was going to explode.

  She cried out and proceeded to clamp down so hard on my dick that stars burst behind my eyes.

  “Fuck!” My hips shot up and held as the first wave of intense pleasure shot through me and out of my dick. I did it again and again until I was completely empty.

  She collapsed over me and I used my last bit of strength to bring an arm around her back as the rest of my body went completely boneless. The only sound in the room was our harsh breaths as we fought to get air.

  The one thought I had was that this was a bad idea, and yet at the same time, I couldn’t regret that it happened. Perhaps I was a fucking cliché, having sex with my co-star, but in this moment I didn’t really care.

  As the haze of orgasm began to dissipate, though, and reality began to return, I worried what this might mean. Was she going to regret having done this? Did we need to make some sort of agreement that this was the one and only time? That idea didn’t sit well with me, because I knew in a few minutes I would want to do it all over again.

  I gently caressed her back. “You alright?”

  She lifted her head to look at me. “Did I do something to give you the impression that I wasn’t alright?”

  Okay, so maybe that was a dumb question. “I don’t think so, but it was hard to tell because I was in an orgasmic haze.”

  She smiled and like always, it was stunning. “That’s what I’m in right now. An orgasmic haze.”

  I couldn’t help but grin. I was sure I looked cocky but how could anyone blame me? The gorgeous Madeline Fox admitted that I put her in an orgasmic haze. It was hard not to feel cocky about that.

  “I’m not sure if you’ll believe me or not, but I didn’t set this all up. And yet I’m glad it happened.”

  She crossed her forearms over my chest, resting her chin on them. “I believe you. I could tell you were fighting off your baser urges. I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t glad that you gave in to them.”

  “And what about you? I know you have some concerns about this as well.”

  She nodded, her expression turning a little more serious. “I’d prefer that this didn’t get out. I know how the tabloids and fans can be. They’ll see this as me sleeping my way to the top.”

  “You can’t really live your life worrying about the tabloids and fans, but I know it’s easier said than done. For the last six months to a year, I’ve been fighting the reputation I’ve been given. I know if this got out, all that effort would be lost.”

  “So, we’re in agreement that this stays between us?”

  I nodded, even though I didn’t like how it made this feel sordid. But the truth was, as much as I enjoyed Madeline’s company and I really liked fucking her, that didn’t mean what was going on here was something that would last. In fact, I suspected it was one of those wildfire flings that flamed hot and intense until it burned out. So, it was better that it stayed just between us. If nobody knew, there’d be no talk about it or speculation when it ended.

  “In the meantime, since you’re here…” I rolled us both over so that I was over her. “We might as well make the best of the fact that we’re both naked.”

  She looped her arms around my neck. “We might as well.”

  By the time she left that night and I’d given her a real-life example of what it was like to fuck against the door, I knew that I hadn’t gotten enough of her. While we didn’t discuss how this would work or what the future might hold, when I suggested that perhaps we could meet again for, quote-unquote, rehearsal, her eyes flashed in that flirty, sexy way they did, and I knew that I would have her again.

  By the time it came to film the sex scene the following week, she’d been to my place several times for “rehearsals”. And as I had predicted, when we filmed the sex scene, my dick responded. She’d helped me hide the fact that my modesty sock wasn’t working, but it was getting harder and harder to act with an erect cock. We weren’t finished by lunch, but my balls were blue, and so when we broke, I snuck over to her trailer. I knocked on her door and entered when she said “come in”. I walked in, shutting the door behind me and locking it. She was alone and still in her robe. I took my robe off, shucked my modesty sock over my shoulder and strolled to her with my cocky grin.

  She arched a brow as she looked at me in amusement.

  “Look what you did to me.” I said, motioning down to my hard, erect dick.

  “Oh dear. Let me take care of that for you,” she said as she dropped to her knees in front of me.

  She had to help me at the end of the day when we’d finally finished filming the entire sequence. This time though, I came prepared with a condom, and she fucked me on her couch.

  Although we didn’t have very many sensual scenes left to film, we still rehearsed quite a bit over the next few weeks. On set and out in the world, we did our best to act normal and hide our sexual escapades. When I had the desire to touch her or hold her hand, I resisted. Because we lived in the same building, on occasion we would ride home from set together. But not too often, as we did our best to stay apart while in public. We only came together in the privacy of my penthouse.

  For the most part, it felt like the perfect situation. I was able to spend enjoyable evenings chatting and bantering with Madeline Fox and then later touching every inch of her luscious body, giving and taking pleasure. But there was none of the complications that went with dealing with tabloid speculation. There was no pressure about a relationship or what might come in the future. She and I were enjoying each other for however long that would be.

  The Door Closes

  Madeline

  There was no doubt that sleeping with Theo was a bad idea. I was already fighting a
gainst the public notion that I was working again due to the fact that I had help from my parents, and in particular my mother. Sometimes in the entertainment world, the truth didn’t matter. What mattered was the salacious stories. If the news of Theo and my affair got out, I would be viewed as just another notch on his bedpost. I’d be just the latest in a long line of co-stars that he’d been with.

  Interestingly, it wasn’t just the fact that I’d be seen as someone sleeping my way to the top, that bothered me. The idea of being just another woman in Theo’s bed bothered me as well. Whenever I thought of it, I considered ending our little affair. And yet whenever we were together, my resolve to do that completely dissipated. I enjoyed spending time with him. There was definitely more substance to him than many thought or knew. And while I had no illusions that I was special to him in a way that was different from the other women he’d been with; he did have a way of making me feel like I was the only woman he saw. I imagined that was part of his charm. It was his superpower. And I couldn’t deny the way he’d look at me. Or how he would come to me, wanting me to touch him. It made me feel womanly, feminine, and sexually powerful.

  I tried not to think about what would happen when filming came to an end in the next six to eight weeks. I knew that most likely what was going on between us would end. This was just another one of those on-set affairs that was over when the actors headed off to their next projects.

  But there were times when I would be lying next to him, feeling the beat of his heart under my hand on his chest and listening to his smooth, slow, steady breath as he slept, that I wondered if it might continue, since we lived in the same building. That was until I found my own place. My sister insisted I could stay as long as I wanted, and I didn’t feel like I was getting in her way since she worked all day and was out most nights of the week, “working”. Still, at some point, I needed to find my own place.

  In an effort to make sure I was pulling my weight since my sister wasn’t making me pay rent, I was spending Sunday morning cleaning up the place. She had a cleaning person that came in every couple weeks to do all the scrubbing and sweeping, so there wasn’t a lot for me to do. Mostly I tidied and cleaned off the places that needed a quick scrub before the cleaning lady came next week.

  My sister was away for the weekend at the Hamptons as a guest of one of her clients so I had the place to myself. When I finished cleaning up, I planned to review the script for the coming week. My agent had also forwarded a couple of new scripts for me to consider once this project was done.

  I was just sitting down to have lunch and review my script for the week when my phone rang with my mother’s ringtone. She had been off in England filming a new movie and I wondered if she was calling me from there, or if she was finally back in Los Angeles.

  I picked up the phone, poking the answer button. “Hi, Mom.”

  “You must tell me if what I'm reading is true or just another one of those nonsense gossip stories the tabloids are putting out,” she said, forgoing a “hello” or “how are you?”.

  My heart stalled in my chest. What story? “What are you talking about, Mom?”

  “I got a call from one of those TV entertainment reporters asking me if Theo Wolfe was going to be my son-in-law. Well, of course I had no idea what they were talking about, but when I went on the Internet to look, I found two photos of you with him. Now, I know he's a good-looking man, but I thought we agreed that for your career, you needed not to fall for his charms. If you are to be taken seriously, Madeline, you can’t become another notch on Theo Wolfe’s bedpost.”

  Panicked now, I reached for my tablet, turning it on and doing a search using Theo’s and my name. Mom was right; there were two pictures there. In one, Theo and I were sitting in a grassy spot, looking like we were having a picnic. He was leaning into me and I was smiling at something he was saying. It was the day that we were filming in the park and he came to have lunch with me. The next picture was of me and him walking into the condo building together.

  The fact that the story was true rattled my nerves, but these pictures could easily be explained away.

  “This is tabloid trash, Mom,” I told her. “That first picture was on set and we are just having lunch and talking. The second one, going into the building, is of both of us coming home. It turns out he has a penthouse in the same building that Nadine lives in.”

  My mother let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank goodness. I know that you’re a very good actress, Madeline, and I would hate for all that to be dismissed because people think you’re using Theo Wolfe to get ahead.”

  “I feel the same way, Mom.”

  My mother must have been satisfied with my explanation because she continued on with the conversation, asking me how the shoot was going. I asked her how things were over in England and considered asking her if she’d seen my dad who was doing a production of Death of a Salesman on the West End, but since they pretty much hated each other’s guts, I refrained.

  Watching my parents’ relationship fall apart into utter hate and disdain, made me realize that a long-term relationship between actors was unwise. It was one reason I had to keep my thoughts of seeing Theo beyond the movie in check. My parents were proof that that kind of relationship didn’t work. In fact, the history of the entertainment world was littered with examples of failed celebrity marriages. I wondered if celebrities could have a successful marriage even with a non-celebrity. Their schedules required them to be gone a lot. Often there were love scenes like the ones I was doing with Theo. I didn’t know how any partner could endure watching the one they cared about kissing and making love to somebody else on the big screen for everyone to see. I was pretty sure the next time I saw Theo on screen kissing another woman, I’d want to rip her eyes out, and he wasn’t even mine. Not really.

  When I got off the phone, I wondered what was the best way to get in touch with Theo about what was going on. I could call or text him but I wondered if maybe the tabloids had figured out a way to hack into our phones. I could just take the elevator up to see him, but maybe they’d paid someone in the building to leak information about us. I had a moment of panic, wondering if there were surveillance cameras in the elevator where Theo and I had spent several long rides up to his penthouse making out.

  As I pondered my quandary, there was a knock at the door. I walked over and looked through the peephole. It was Theo. I opened the door to him. He was wearing a hoodie and a baseball cap, making me think he was wondering if there were eyes watching us in the building as well.

  He moved inside, quickly shutting the door behind him. “We need to talk.”

  “I’ve heard. My mother called demanding to know if I was risking my career sleeping with Theo Wolfe.”

  He pulled his baseball cap off and ran his fingers through his thick blond hair. “My publicist is on it already, denying the rumor and shaming the tabloids for publishing the story.” He put his cap back on his head and stood in front of me with his hands on his hips. “He’s essentially calling the tabloids a liar and explaining those pictures away, which of course they can be, because one we were on set and two, we both live in the building.”

  It was odd how hurt I felt at his calling this situation a lie, which was weird because his response was exactly the same response I had. But it wasn’t a lie. And by calling it a lie, it made what we were doing seem sordid and wrong.

  “Do you think they’ll believe it”

  He shrugged. “You know how they are. They’ll tell a story for as long as it sells.” He looked at me and I could see in his eyes he was trying to figure out a way to tell me that we needed to end this thing.

  I decided to make it easy for him because of course, he was right. “We need to stop seeing each other.”

  He let out a relieved breath. “Yes. I'm sorry, Mad-”

  “No, I get it. And I agree. We both can’t afford to have this sort of publicity. We want to be taken serious in our careers.”

  He looked down for a moment, and when h
e looked up, he said, “I hate this. I understand that it’s one of the prices I have to pay to do what I love to do, but I fucking hate that they can dictate my life.”

  Strangely, my heart warmed at his words. It suggested that our time together meant something to him. Not that it was love, but still that it meant something to him and he was disappointed to have to let it go.

  “I feel the same way.”

  He looked at me like he was about to be sick. “I need to warn you about something.”

  My stomach clenched as I tried to anticipate what he was about to tell me. Did they have footage of us in the elevator?

  “To offset the story, I’m going to have to go out a couple nights this week.” He looked at me expectantly, like I was supposed to decipher what that meant.

  Of course I knew exactly what he meant. He was telling me that he was going out to be seen with other women. My heart sank, but I mustered up a smile and nodded. “I understand.”

  “It might help if you did the same.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not really the partying type. Plus, it might look a little obvious if both of us went out and started carousing.”

  Again, he had a sigh of relief like he was glad I wasn’t going to be out with other men. It was a reminder of the double standard and misogyny that existed in a world primarily led and dictated by men.

  “I don’t have very much on my schedule this week in terms of filming, so maybe when I'm done, I'll just go up and stay with my grandparents for a little while.”

 

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