Two Sexy!. Stephanie BondЧитать онлайн книгу.
sniffles. “I don’t want to go.”
It was a game she played that Jarett called Beg Me. He opened his mouth to play out the situation, then changed his mind. “Okay, I’ll call Peterson and ask him to make your excuses.”
He counted to three.
“No, wait,” she said, her voice plaintive, but amazingly stronger.
“I’m waiting,” he said.
“Are you alone?”
He nodded to Rosie. “Take a break. I’ll find you if she needs you.”
The woman scampered away, and Jarett pulled his hand down his face, making a mental note to have the door keyed, and to keep a key on his ring. “I’m alone, Taylor.” And nearly at the end of his patience.
After a few seconds, he heard the deadbolt turn. When the door didn’t open, he turned the knob and entered her suite.
Taylor stood in the pink-and-gold living room near a window, facing him and smoking a long cigarette. Her mane of blond hair was mussed and her mascara smudged. She was wearing high-heeled mules and a short transparent robe. And nothing else. Her limbs were long and lean, her breasts voluptuous and taut. The hair at the juncture of her thighs had been reduced to a tiny triangle to accommodate the scanty swimwear she wore on the set. A cultivated tan covered every square inch of her body. Taylor smiled lazily.
Jarett set his jaw and turned his back. “Put something on.”
“Why?” she purred. “Does seeing me like this do things to you, Jarett?”
He’d seen her naked a hundred times—Taylor was an exhibitionist who delighted in shocking people. “It only makes me wonder what’s going on in that head of yours.”
He heard her muted footsteps on the thick carpet, then she was in front of him, lifting her arms around his neck, pushing her body into his. “You know what’s in my head, Jarett. I want you.”
Taylor used to be an incredible beauty, but a year of hard partying had taken its toll, and the daylight wasn’t kind to her unmade face. Her eyes were slightly glazed, and her lips pouty. She reeked of stale smoke and perspiration. He itched to yank the cigarette out of her hand but considering her other vices, this one was relatively harmless. Sadness welled in his chest at the cliché she had become.
Jarett clasped her wrists gently, and turned her around. “Taylor, stop this childish routine.” He shrugged out of his standard black jacket and put it around her slender shoulders. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care about you, but not in that way.”
“You’re just afraid David will be mad at you if you sleep with me,” she said as she walked away. “But David knows his little sister is all grown up.”
Jarett pursed his mouth. “Let’s hope that David doesn’t get the tabloids at his missionary camp in Haiti. And it’s a good thing that your folks don’t own a television.”
She flounced down on one of the twin pink sofas. “Isn’t that a gas? I’m one of the biggest stars on TV, and my own parents have never seen my show.” She took a drag from the cigarette. “Really, sometimes I can’t believe I came from such a hick family.”
Anger sparked low in his stomach. “Don’t talk about your family that way. They’re good people.”
Her laugh was dry as she looked up at him from the couch. “I know—salt of the earth, God-fearing people. And I’m glad they took you in, Jarett, really I am. I just wish you’d stop thinking of me as your little sister. There are thousands, maybe millions of men who’d love to sleep with me, you know.”
He refrained from mentioning that a good number of them already had. She opened her knees slightly to give him another glance at what she was offering, but Jarett had developed a rather clinical attitude toward Taylor’s nudity. “Put your legs together, and act like a lady.”
She scoffed, but complied. “A lady? Is that what you’re holding out for, Jarett—a lady? You’re in the wrong town, old friend.”
Don’t I know it. And his lack of female companionship the last year or so had proved it. “I’m only here to look out for you,” he said finally, crossing his arms. “Although I don’t believe I’m doing such a good job.”
She grinned, took another drag, then smashed the cigarette butt into a lead crystal ashtray the size of a dinner plate. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Jarett. You follow me like a goddamned bloodhound, and you keep the freaks at bay.”
He walked over to the wet bar and picked up an empty bottle of vodka. “Those freaks don’t pose nearly as much of a threat as the things you do to yourself.”
“Booze loosens me up,” she said with a sigh. “You ought to try it sometime.”
He opened a drawer that held drinking glasses and reached in the back to pull out a handful of prescription bottles. “And what do the pills do?”
She blanched, then recovered with a glib smile. “The pills give me a boost of energy when I need it, that’s all.”
“You’ve been needing a boost a lot lately.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You have been keeping an eye on me.”
He set the pills aside, then walked over and eased down on the couch opposite her, hoping that some part of the small-town girl he remembered remained to reason with. “Taylor, I think after the trip to Chicago, you should check yourself into a rehab clinic.”
She frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not like I’m an addict or anything.”
“Good. Then it should be easy for you to give up the pills and the booze. You’re on hiatus from the show, so it’ll be a good time to get some rest and to get clean.”
“No way—the tabloids will have a field day.”
“You haven’t seen today’s headlines—they’re already having a field day. That stunt you pulled at Zago’s restaurant the other night has everyone speculating about what you’re hooked on.”
She scoffed again. “Can’t a girl dance on a table without everyone thinking she’s on drugs?”
“But you were on drugs.”
“Jarett, for heaven’s sake, you make it sound like I’m a coke head or something.”
“Or something,” he said, nodding.
“The doctor gave me those pills,” she said, her eyes bright.
“Some of the doctors you’ve been dealing with are little more than drug dealers,” he said quietly.
“Peterson called this morning, and he said the network is getting concerned about your behavior.
He said one more stunt, and your career could be on the line.”
“Peterson isn’t the only agent in town,” she said lightly.
“Taylor, listen to yourself. You jumped through hoops to sign with Peterson’s agency—he’s one of the best and you know it. He’s the reason you got the part on Many Moons.”
She sat up, scowling. “I got myself that part.
No one could play Tess Canton the way I do.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. But you’re letting the character take over your life.
And it’s not pretty.”
Her face screwed up in anger and she bounced up from the couch, his jacket swinging around her. “Oh, so now you don’t even think I’m pretty?” She started crying.
Jarett sighed and held up his hands. “I didn’t say that. Of course you’re pretty. You’re beautiful, Taylor.”
She managed a smile through her tears. “You