Seduced by Mr. Right (15 page)

A grin warmed her mouth. Taking his hands in her own, she used them to stroke her nipples. His pulse sped up, beat in double time, and his erection grew thicker, wider.

Feeling as if he was losing control, he cautioned himself to slow down. This was Sharleen's first time, and he wanted to make it a night she'd never forget. With that thought in mind, he scooped her up, carried her across the room and laid her down on his satin-draped bed.

Emilio kicked off his shoes and took off his clothes. He dug around in his dresser, found a box of MAGNUM condoms and sighed in relief. He covered his erection and gathered Sharleen in his arms.

He cupped her breasts, sucked her nipples into his mouth, teased and tickled the dark, erect buds with his tongue. His only concern was pleasing her, fulfilling her every desire, every unspoken wish. He parted the lips between her legs and slid a finger inside her sex. Emilio was surprised—and pleased—to discover she was wet, ready. He swirled his fingers around, slid them in and out, back and forth. “Do you like that? Does that feel good?”

The word
amazing
fell out of her mouth in a gush.

Hearing her moans and groans thrilled him. She rode his fingers, rocked her hips hard against them. Sharleen was losing it, coming undone, and Emilio loved watching every erotic minute of it.

Seizing his shaft in her hands as if she owned it, she brushed it against her sex, like an artist with a paintbrush. Each flick of his erection against her sex pushed him to the brink. She clutched his shoulders, held on to him for dear life.

An orgasm seized her body, caused her to shake so violently the headboard banged against the wall. Another one, longer and more powerful, followed on the heels of the first. She swiveled her hips in a slow, hypnotic rhythm, one that made him feel as if he was going to explode. Emilio had never seen anything like it, never experienced such passion, and her excitement was the ultimate turn-on.

Moments later, her breathing slowed, her tremors subsided, and she opened her eyes.

“This is torture. I can't take this anymore. I need to be inside you.”

Her eyes were wide, her face the picture of innocence, but she was wearing a cheeky smile. “Baby, are you sure? I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with.”

Emilio grinned, couldn't help it. She was teasing him, ribbing him about what he'd said earlier, but he didn't mind. Not this time, not when they were having fun together.

Her gaze was seductive, so damned hypnotic Emilio felt as if he was under her spell. She whispered dirty words in his ear, eagerly stroked his package, didn't hold back. It was obvious she wanted him, just as much as he wanted her, and the realization made him feel like the luckiest man on earth.

He guided his erection between her legs and eased the tip inside her sex. She was tight and so damned wet that Emilio feared he'd climax right away. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, stole his breath, and every coherent thought left his mind. Being inside Sharleen was the best feeling in the world. He wanted to own her, possess her, and brand her with his body so no one else could.
And I will, one stroke at a time.

They shared a deep kiss fraught with lust and desire. He thrust his erection inside her, again and again, parted her legs wide to deepen his penetration. Their lovemaking was intense, more exciting than doing three hundred miles an hour around the track in his custom-made Ferrari race car. Emilio lowered his mouth for a kiss and froze when he saw tears in her eyes. “Did I hurt you?”

Sharleen sniffed and shook her head, but he wasn't convinced.

“These are tears of joy,” she said softly. “I never dreamed I could be this happy.”

“Baby, are you sure? I can stop if you're in pain.”

“Oh, no, you don't. We're
just
getting started.” She traced her finger around his nipple, stroked it, teased it, sucked it hungrily into her mouth. “Emilio, you're amazing. I love the way you make me feel. Please don't stop...”

“Since you asked so nicely...” He kissed her mouth. Her lips tasted sweet, warm and soft against his. Emilio wrapped her up in his arms, held her so close to his chest he could feel her heart pounding. “You were definitely worth the wait.”

She locked her arms around his neck and nibbled on his lower lip. “I can honestly say you're the best lover I've
ever
had.”

The sound of her girlish laugh made him chuckle, too.

“I love you so much that it scares the hell out of me.” Emilio cupped her face in his hands and confessed what he'd been holding inside for months. “I don't know what I'd ever do if I lost you.”

“You never have to worry about losing me because I'm not going anywhere. My heart is yours, and always will be.” Sharleen placed soft, light kisses on his cheeks, along his jawline and down his neck. “I don't want anyone else, Emilio. Just you.”

Shock waves coursed through his body, stealing his voice. He increased his pace, thrust his erection deeper inside her sex. Emilio felt his erection swell and released a deep, guttural groan. Sharleen clamped her legs around his thighs and kissed him passionately. The tingling sensation in his feet shot up his legs, zigzagged along his spine and exploded inside his shaft. Clutching her hips, he furiously pumped. His climax was so powerful, so intense, Emilio felt as if he'd been struck by a bolt of lightning.

And did it ever feel good.

Chapter 17

S
harleen stared at the high-tech Swiss coffee machine, annoyed that she couldn't figure out how to use it. She searched the kitchen drawers for the instruction manual, but couldn't find it anywhere. Everything was ready—the scrambled eggs, the Belgian waffles, the hash-brown frittatas—and all she needed now was a cup of espresso to complete Emilio's breakfast. “I can make a three-course meal with my eyes closed, but I can't get this stupid thing to work,” she grumbled. “Go figure!”

She heard her ringtone, knew it was Jocelyn calling to check up on her, but she continued fiddling with the fancy machine. She'd call her girlfriend later, after Emilio left for practice, and fill her in on her weekend in Miami and her romantic night. Sharleen felt as if she were floating, gliding on air, and wondered if her feet would ever touch the ground.
Jocelyn's going to flip when I tell her I'm not a virgin anymore.
I can hardly believe it myself!

Sharleen picked up the plates, padded across the kitchen and put them on the glass table. She felt a dull ache in her forearms and decided a massage at her favorite spa that evening was definitely in order. Her body was sore, tender all over, but she wouldn't trade making love to Emilio for anything in the world. He was a patient, sensitive lover, who put her needs above his own. After making love that morning for the second time, he'd carried her into the bathroom and given her a bath in his Jacuzzi tub. Emilio was in his office now, on a video conference call with Ferrari executives, and since Sharleen wanted to have everything ready by the time he came downstairs for breakfast, she hustled back over to the stove and flipped the pancakes.

“My, my, my, what do we have here?”

Startled, the spatula fell from Sharleen's hands. She turned to face the female voice. A brunette, decked out in Louis Vuitton from head to toe, was standing beside the stainless-steel fridge, glaring at her. Sharleen recognized Emilio's sister from the family portrait hanging in the foyer and marveled at how striking the former model was.

Gathering her bearings, she turned off the stove, scooped up the spatula and dropped it into the sink. Sharleen inwardly chastised herself for leaving the master bedroom in Emilio's undershirt and shorts. Just because his staff had the day off work didn't mean they had the house to themselves.
Talk about an awkward first meeting,
Sharleen thought, combing her fingers through the ends of her disheveled hair.
Why didn't Emilio tell me his sister was joining us for breakfast?

Taking shelter behind the breakfast bar, she crossed her arms to hide her braless state and forced a smile. “You must be Francesca,” she said brightly, refusing to let her nerves get the best of her. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“The feeling isn't mutual, so get out.”

Sharleen was stunned by her rudeness, but she wisely bit her tongue. She knew Francesca's story and sympathized with her, but losing a child didn't give her the right to be disrespectful. Because she loved Emilio, she'd be nice, but if his sister didn't kill the attitude they were definitely going to have a problem.

“Okay...well. Breakfast is ready. Are you joining us?”

Francesca scoffed and rolled her eyes. “As if. Carbs are, like,
so
fattening.”

“If you change your mind there's plenty, so feel free to help yourself.”

“How long has this been going on?” she asked, dumping her handbag on the kitchen counter. “And do you screw all of your male clients, or just the rich ones?”

Pity tempered her anger, made her swallow the stinging retort on the tip of her tongue. Francesca was upset, lashing out at her because Emilio had cut her off financially, but Sharleen refused to be her human punching bag. “It's obvious you're upset, so I'll go get Emilio so the two of you can talk about what's bothering you.”

“My issue is with you, bitch, not my brother.”

The insult and her icy tone confused Sharleen. On the outside, Sharleen was the picture of calm, but her temples were throbbing in pain, and her heart was pounding violently. She remained silent, and although she was annoyed with Francesca for swearing at her, she didn't lash back.

“I'm not going to stand by and watch you play my brother for a fool.”

“This conversation is over,” she said calmly, in a tone that disguised her frustration. “My relationship with Emilio is none of your business, and furthermore, we don't need your permission to date.”

“Emilio will never marry you, so you might as well quit while you're ahead.” Scowling, her lips pinched with distaste, Francesca tapped her foot impatiently on the ground. “You're just something cute and young to play with until he finds the right woman.”

Maybe instead of throwing stones, you should examine your own life, you spoiled brat!
Not trusting herself to speak, for fear she'd lose her temper, Sharleen swiped her cell phone off the counter and strode past Francesca.

“Does Emilio know about your hefty five-figure bonus?”

Her body went cold, rigid with shock, and she stopped dead in her tracks.

“That's right. I know all about the money, and I have the proof right here...”

Panic welled inside her chest, caused sweat to drench her skin. Sharleen heard papers ruffle and knew Francesca had evidence to back up her claim. Guilt gnawed at her conscience.
I should have ripped up the check instead of giving it to Jocelyn, but what was I supposed to do? She's out of work, and she desperately needed the money!

Telling herself not to panic, she turned and faced Francesca. The brunette was clutching a piece of paper in her right hand and pointing at her with the other. She stared her down, like a prizefighter consumed with rage, her eyes blazing with anger.

“Antwan paid you ten thousand dollars to seduce my brother, and I can prove it,” she said, her tone so confident, she sounded like a state prosecutor who knew every angle of her case. “Antwan wanted Emilio to come out of retirement, and he used
you
to make it happen.”

Sharleen opened her mouth to deny the accusation, but she couldn't get the words out. The truth got stuck in her throat, and her heart was beating so hard she couldn't think.

“Is it true?”

Her stomach pitched to the floor when she heard Emilio's voice. She glanced over her shoulder, saw him standing directly behind her and felt the baby-fine hairs on the back of her neck shoot up. He stared at her intently, as if they were strangers, and folded his arms rigidly across his chest.

The room darkened, and the air grew thick with tension.

“Is it true?” he repeated, raising his voice. “Were you paid to seduce me?”

Sharleen felt as if she were drowning, as if someone were holding her head under water. She struggled to catch her breath. She didn't have it in her to lie—not to Emilio, not after everything he'd done for her—so she opened her mouth and forced her lips to move. “I—I apologize for not telling you about the bonus, but it's not what you think.”

“Of course it is!” Francesca raged, throwing her hands up in the air. “You're nothing but a whore, and my brother can do better than you. All you care about is his money—”

“Francesca, that's enough. Go wait for me in the living room.”

“And leave you here with her? No way. I'm not going anywhere,” she said, adamantly shaking her head. “She's trouble with a capital
T
, and I don't trust her.”

Ignoring the dig, Sharleen approached Emilio, determined to plead her case. “Please, let me explain.” She touched his forearm to remind him of the love they shared and forced him to meet her gaze. “Antwan sent me a check in the mail last week, but I signed it over to my best friend so she could use it to pay her mom's medical bills.”

“Likely story,” Francesca grumbled, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “How noble of you. You're a modern-day Mother Teresa.”

“I have no reason to lie. It's the truth.”

“Sure it is. Next you'll be telling us you didn't hire a photographer to take pictures of you guys and leak the photographs online.”

Emilio frowned and glanced at his sister. “What are you talking about?”

“I called you yesterday to give you a heads-up, but you never answered your phone.” Francesca took her iPhone out of her purse and tapped the screen. “The press is having a field day with the pictures of you guys kissing on your motorcycle at Centennial Olympic Park...”

Sharleen hung her head and pressed her eyes shut.
This can't be happening. Not today.
Feeling herself getting emotional, she bit the inside of her cheek to keep the tears at bay. She'd worked hard to keep their relationship secret, hadn't even told her closest friends. And wondered how the media attention would affect her career.

“Did you have anything to do with this?” His eyes were dark, filled with anger, and he was shouting his words. “Did you leak these pictures to advance your career? Is that what this is about?”

Stunned, Sharleen dropped her hands to her sides and stepped away from Emilio. She felt a sharp, sudden pain in her chest and a cold chill zip down her spine. Her heart shattered into a million pieces, crumbled like rubble. Telling herself not to panic, she willed herself to keep it together despite the weight of her sadness. “No, of course not. I had nothing to do with it.”

“The things you said last night...” He paused to clear his throat. “Were you telling the truth? Or just doing your job?”

His words were a vicious blow, as painful as a slap in the face. Her back was against the wall, and there was no way out. She stood there, mute, willing herself to speak, to defend her good name, but her lips wouldn't work.

A long painful silence followed, and Sharleen knew, deep down, that Emilio didn't believe her.
Doesn't he know that I'm different? That I'm not like his relatives and ex-lovers who betrayed him in the past? That I'd never do anything to hurt him?
Didn't last night mean anything to him?

Her vision blurred with tears.

“You should go.” His voice broke, but he quickly recovered. “I need to be alone.”

“I understand.” It was a lie, but she decided not to argue. Sharleen was afraid if she challenged him, he'd be gone, out of her life forever. And she couldn't risk losing him. Not now. Not after everything they'd been through. Emilio made her feel strong and empowered, as if she could do anything she put her mind to, and she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. Her female intuition told her Francesca had something to do with the photographs, but since she didn't have any proof, Sharleen kept her suspicions to herself.

Pushing her hurt aside, she smiled through her tears and nodded her head. “I'll wait for you upstairs in the master bedroom, and we can talk whenever you're ready—”

“No, I think it's better you leave.”

But I don't want to go home! I want to stay here with you!

“I'll ask one of the groundskeepers to drive you back to the city.”

An awkward silence descended over the kitchen. It lasted so long Sharleen thought it would never end. With each passing second her anxiety grew, and she worried about their future together as a couple. Emilio wouldn't look at her, refused to make eye contact, and his face was twitching as if he was about to sneeze. “I'll call you.”

Hope surged through her veins. “When?”

“I don't know.” Emilio turned around and strode out through the back door.

Sharleen peered out of the kitchen window, tracking his movements as the distance between them grew. Her thoughts returned to last night, and her heart ached when she remembered how they'd talked and kissed and danced outside on the deck. Emilio made her feel whole, more comfortable and confident than she'd ever been. He was the only man for her, and—

“Didn't you hear what my brother said?” Francesca smiled in satisfaction and pointed down the hallway. “Goodbye and good riddance!”