Sex Idol

by Shelley Munro

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Excerpt – Interplanetary Love

  About Shelley

  Other Books by Shelley

  Copyright Page

  SEX IDOL

  Shelley Munro

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Excerpt – Interplanetary Love

  About Shelley

  Other Books by Shelley

  Copyright Page

  Introduction

  Are you Sex Idol material?

  Can you strut your stuff on stage, turning on the audience—your judges? Are you experienced in each category of sexual entertainment?

  Calling sex contestants on Earth and off-planet! We are searching for candidates to enter the ultimate in sex reality shows. The winner of the Sex Idol title will receive a fabulous prize package including an advertising contract worth over ten million credits. Pick up your entry forms from Robinson’s, the makers of designer toys and sexual aids, and sign up today!

  Sex contestant, Antonio Perez sees the Sex Idol contest as an opportunity to reconcile with his former partner Sasha Greenacre. With Sasha at his side he’ll have hot sex and an excellent chance at taking out the ultimate title.

  Sasha is shocked when Antonio walks back into her life, asking her to train him. She’s determined to keep her distance and guard her heart. Sasha doesn’t want to step over the emotional line again even though one look at the luscious hunk is enough to tempt an angel to sin…

  Prologue

  In the early 21st century, reality shows were popular, drawing huge audiences.

  As time passed, the shows evolved becoming racier and attracting contestants who gained large public followings. Previously low budget shows now claimed big advertising dollars.

  Then, in 2057 a new, unknown disease felled a sizable part of the adult population.

  Dubbed the smooching disease because the virus transferred from person to person during the act of kissing, this infection shifted opinions about carnal relations.

  Kissing became passé, mouth-to-mouth contact unpopular.

  The process of sex became less intimate and people needed something….

  Suddenly, reality shows featuring sex grew trendy as a means of foreplay.

  And the ad-men raked in increasing profits.

  Reality show competitors became the darlings of the entertainment world, as did the celebrity judges of these contests.

  New industries broke out to run in tandem with the reality shows—sex aids and toys, body enhancements and schools to educate young adults and prepare them for the sex circuit. Wealthy parents used these schools as a way to finish their offspring’s education.

  Now in 2087, reality shows still pull in huge audiences, and Brady Conglomerate have announced the biggest show to date—Sex Idol.

  The winner will receive a huge cash award, advertising and endorsement contracts, a prestigious trophy plus the knowledge that they’re the best sex competitor on the circuit, on the planet.

  They’ll be set for life.

  Chapter One

  Year 2087, California, United States, Earth

  “Not like that. Gently!” Sasha Greenacre instructed. “You want your partner to climax not writhe around in acute pain.” She strolled down the lines of students occupying red padded benches and practicing oral sex. She halted on noticing the couple at the far end of the room whispering instead of taking part in the class exercise. College students and legally adult, but, given the opportunity, they still loved to gossip. Sasha glided closer, ready to reprimand the pair.

  “…the man is hunkermondous. Bet he’ll enter the Sex Idol contest,” the pretty blonde reclining on the bench said.

  “He’ll win.” Her exercise partner stood at the elevated end of the worktable. “Wish I had Perez’s technique. Ms. Greenacre used to be his partner. That’s why my parents enrolled me at her school the minute I turned eighteen. Said she was the best. They won all the top Sex Play reality contests.”

  Antonio.

  Sasha squeezed her eyes closed and sucked in oxygen to ease the rapid beat of her heart. Ever since the ads for Sex Idol, the ultimate contest, had started appearing on the links, Antonio’s name had hit the headlines. He was the one favored to win the ten million credits first prize and the associated sponsorship deal, despite his recent run of poor form. His name was on everyone’s lips. Rumors flew faster than her savings disappeared when bill time came around. Sasha’s nails dug into her thighs as she steeled her backbone. Hearing his name hurt, dammit.

  Even after all this time.

  More whispering plucked her from the painful memories. “Are you going to participate in this exercise?” Sasha winced at her peevish tone. “Have you both climaxed? No? I want to see at least one orgasm each before the timer goes.”

  “Yes, Ms. Greenacre.” The male swiped his tongue over his partner’s glistening clitoris and she issued a soft mew, her hips rocking in time to the power ballad that poured through concealed speakers.

  “Very good.” Sasha strode down the rows of wide-padded benches again, observing her students’ progress with satisfaction. The novice class consisted of twenty students between the ages of eighteen and twenty—eleven females and nine males. They would do her proud in the upcoming Sex Play competition, and all going well, they’d win the team’s award, too.

  Sasha became aware of excited whispers and heads lifted from the exercise she’d set. She turned toward the door to check the source of the interruption. A man stood in the open doorway. He was as familiar as the reflection she saw in the mirror each morning. Icy-cold panic froze her in place, the chatter from her students receding to the distance. The strident clang of the automatic bell dragged Sasha from her stupefied horror.

  What was Antonio doing here?

  God, he looked…great. Sasha bit down on her tongue to make sure it wasn’t hanging out.

  “Can we have your autograph?” Her students had no qualms about vying for his attention. They leapt from their workstations and ran to him like excited pups, heedless of their unclothed state.

  “No problem. I’m happy to sign autographs.” Antonio signed books and slips of pastel-colored paper until Sasha wanted to scream. It was obvious he’d come to see her, but why?

  Finally, he excused himself, ushered his last excited fan to their clothes and out the door before shutting it with a soft click. Sasha winced but maintained his gaze in an act of sheer bravado. In return, he grinned and prowled across the room, his arms outstretched. Sasha stepped behind her rigid plastique desk, although it was flimsy protection against his potent masculinity. Tall, with the looks of a dark angel out on the town, the man oozed sex appeal. The stubble was new, but it gave him a harder edge proclaiming him a mature man rather than the handsome boy he’d been.

  Sasha had thought—hoped—she’d be
come immune. But judging by the way her heart rate spiked into a frenzied gallop, obviously not.

  “Sasha.” He rolled her name, leisurely and exotic. Decadent and expensive like her favorite double chocolate chip ice cream. And just like that, Sasha was thrown into the past.

  Antonio Perez.

  How long had it been since she’d seen him in person? Three years, maybe four?

  “Antonio?” Hot flashes of memories swam through her mind. Images of skin against skin, bodies writhing together, tauntingly slow until desperation seized control.

  Sasha swallowed, clearing the lump of anxiety that clogged her throat. Antonio Perez. The man she’d loved and let walk away without a fight. She cast a worried glance at the silent man. Hades, she prayed this was a flying visit, that she wouldn’t see him again after today. She didn’t think she could live through a repeat of the past.

  “Sasha, sweetheart. I heard you were a teacher now. I heard you’d given up competing on the contest circuit.”

  “Yeah.” The ache in her chest spilled over into a wince and she had to look away.

  “Do you regret it?” His intimate tone raised goose bumps along her arms and legs, pulling her nipples to hard, achy points.

  Sasha folded her arms across her chest, trying to appear nonchalant while inside her emotions roiled. As always, the man knew how to cut, and cut deep. She’d loved performing and had been good at it. But she’d made the cardinal mistake. She’d allowed emotions to cloud their business relationship. Her liking for Antonio had boiled over into love.

  A sex performer couldn’t put on a good act if emotions got in the way.

  Detachment was the secret to a winner—a champion. Aloofness and supreme confidence in the ability to perform any sex act, with any man or woman, under any conditions. And it seemed as though she hadn’t learned from experience.

  Antonio Perez still pushed every single one of her hot buttons.

  She still loved him.

  Damn, damn, damn!

  “I was getting older.” She lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug. “I lost the hunger to win, so I gave it up. A solo career didn’t work for me.”

  His brows rose, a hint of curiosity flitting into his expression. “But you still train others. You haven’t thought of going back on the circuit instead of living wins through other people?”

  “I’m good at teaching.” Sasha spoke the truth. Her students were winning contests. The school trophy cabinet in the far corner of the classroom was full. “Why would I want to give it up?”

  Since her childhood friend, Jenny, had moved to the other side of the world, her students were the closest she had to a family. Lonely. The traitorous thought slid into her mind before she could slam up a mental block to keep depression at bay. Teaching filled the gap in her life.

  “Places in my school are sought by parents searching for the right post-public school education for their offspring.” Unease stirred at the thought, a flash of anger. Some parents, namely Thomas Welsh, resorted to blackmail to get their sons or daughters enrolled.

  Antonio tilted his head, nodded. “I want you to train me for the Sex Idol contest.”

  For an instant, Sasha had trouble breathing. Heck, why hadn’t he given her a warning, time to set her armor in place, time to steel her heart? It felt as though he’d ripped off every layer of skin protecting her emotions from the outside world. He’d see too much. He’d see the truth of what he’d meant to her when once they’d had clear boundaries.

  Sasha inhaled, and it was like sucking air through a straw. Definite trouble. She wrenched open the top drawer of her sex toy cabinet and rummaged through the first-aid box for an asthma tab. She popped one in her mouth and the medication crawled deep into her lungs fighting the panic and the iron clamps that threatened her next inhalation.

  He stepped closer, brows drawn together. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine. I’m fine.” She waved him away.

  He wanted her to train him.

  God, she couldn’t.

  Leaving him had hurt last time, and she refused to suffer through that pain again.

  “I want to be the best.” He lost his characteristic teasing tone. “The last few years haven’t been as good winning-wise. I want a big win before it’s too late.”

  “You’re retiring?” Sasha’s heart took off at a gallop and she couldn’t tear her gaze off his starkly handsome face. Every angle, every dip and hollow was familiar. The bump on his nose where he’d broken it as a teenager, the cropped black hair, the stubble on his jaw and the sinfully dark eyes. And his lips. A sigh eased out as she recalled how his sensual mouth felt, how skillful the man was with its application. When he smiled...ah, when his lips smiled, a woman would give him anything. Do anything, because a smile lit up his entire face, made his eyes glisten and brought two dimples—one either side of his mouth—into prominence.

  Antonio shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “I heard the ad on the links. The top prize is a contract. You’ll get commercial shoots, calendars, merchandizing. The whole shebang. Why would you retire when you had all that?”

  “Sometimes knowing you can win is all the prize you need.”

  Alarm surfaced at his too-casual tone. “Are you sick, Antonio? One of the new designer diseases they haven’t found a cure for?”

  Antonio gave a bark of laughter. “Hell no! I’m fighting fit, and I intend to give Sex Idol my best shot. I want you to train me.”

  Sasha wavered, trying to think what to do. Her gaze dropped to the red canvas shoes on her feet as panic roared to life. The tiles needed polishing again. She stared at the murky spots, deciding how to answer.

  Part of her wanted to grab him and never let him go, but he’d leave to chase another contest, another opportunity, possibly another woman.

  She’d be broken again. Heart-broken.

  What excuse could she give? Finally, she looked up, appraising Antonio before surveying the two rows of ten workstations behind him. A tidy-up required before the next class. Gah! Why couldn’t she read him? Knowing his thoughts would make this decision so much easier. “Things look a little tight schedule-wise. I’m not sure I can fit you in.”

  “And if I offered you a bribe along with paying you?”

  “What sort of bribe?” Sasha’s gaze strayed, part of her mind acknowledging how healthy he appeared with not a pound of excess weight. Realizing she was staring, she ripped her focus off muscled biceps and the hard abs highlighted by his plain black T-shirt. She fixed on a spot over his left shoulder. “I can’t afford to risk my teaching certificate.”

  The sex industry was heavily regulated, with a minimum age of eighteen for contestants and a stringent code of conduct for teachers. She refused to risk her career for anything.

  “You remember the beach house in Fiji? The one we stayed at that time?”

  “No.” She did, of course. It was a small but luxurious bure right on the edge of the beach. They’d spent one glorious week on the island. They’d slept in each other’s arms, listening to the music of the waves as they rushed to shore and the gentle breezes in the coconut palms. They’d swum in the warm water, naked and relaxed with each other, then dried off under the balmy sun. Yes, she remembered.

  “Liar,” he whispered. He reached out to touch her cheek with his forefinger despite the desk between them.

  Sasha squeezed her eyes shut, but not quickly enough to stop the escape of a tear. It trickled down her cheek before falling on the blue formfitting top that barely covered her breasts.

  His finger gathered up the next glistening drop before it fell. With a thoughtful glance at her, he rubbed his tear-wet finger against his thumb. “If you train me and I win, the cottage is yours.”

  “Mine?” Sasha had always dreamed of living in a secluded tropical hideaway like Fiji. She’d once confided her dream to him and he obviously remembered. But did she want it enough to become involved with Antonio again? She’d never known her parents, had grown up in a series of foster homes an
d foster families.

  Always on the outside.

  Lonely.

  “You could live there for the off-season to recharge and come back to the States once the season started again.”

  Wow. She could give up the training and live in Fiji for most of the year. She could even go with the clawing, relentless instinct to have a child. Not just any test-tube child. Antonio’s.

  If she found the courage to ask him this favor she could make her own family. For once, she’d belong instead of remaining an outsider. And she would have a part of Antonio with her forever, even after he left.

  Yes, she’d have the family she always longed for…

  “Maybe,” she said with caution. “As I’ve said, I have a lot of commitments.”

  “We can do my training any time it suits you. Morning, noon, or night.”

  Night. A frisson crawled down her torso and limbs. Just the idea of joining with Antonio again, of making love to him had her juices flowing, dampening the crotch of her exercise shorts.

  Come on, Sasha. All you need to do is ask him. The worst he can do is say no.

  “All right. On one condition,” Sasha blurted before good sense stilled her tongue.

  “Anything,” Antonio said. “I’ll do anything for you in return.”

  “I want a baby. That’s my condition. I want you to give me a baby. I want you to make me pregnant.”

  Chapter Two

  Antonio stilled, staring at her in astonishment. He dragged a hand through his hair and attempted to hide his shock.

  A baby.

  Nah, he couldn’t have heard right.

  “Antonio.” Her husky voice strained as though she’d been pushed as hard and fast as she could take. Her beautiful green eyes appeared haunted, and they tore at his guts. “Did you hear me?”

  Antonio forced a laugh, but it didn’t quite come off. “I thought you said you wanted a baby. My baby,” he added.

  “That’s right.”

  Antonio thought about Sasha as he’d last seen her. Naked. Sweaty. Beautiful and charismatic. Long strands of honey-blonde hair spilling across the pillow. Her pussy wet from their loving. The vision remained with him always—a recollection of the past.