Page 17 of Filthy Hot Escort

He was celebrating his good luck.

No. Fucking. Way.

“Did you notice something?” Julian drawled out, capturing Rex’s attention. He grinned cockily as he stood. “I never really answered your question. You simply assumed.”

Rex’s smile slipped from his stupid face. “What?”

Fire ate at Julian’s belly. It took every ounce of self-control to use his words to punish this man and not his fists. Rex should have left the room ages ago. He should never have come in and admitted his cruelty toward his fiancée. Mistake. Big mistake. “Oh, it’s okay. I made assumptions, too. And I’m still making assumptions. Want to know what they are?”

Rex straightened to his full height and scowled. “What fucking assumptions are you talking about?”

Julian grinned. “I must assume that sinceyoucan’t make her come, that means your dick isn’t thick or long enough to stretch her wide or fuck her deep.”

A mix of anger and embarrassment recolored the man’s cheeks. “Watch it,” he said.

“I’m also going to assume that you have shit stamina. Either that or you’re just a lazy fucker."

Rex sputtered. “I could get you thrown out of this place. You’d never work here again,”

Julian laughed. “Maybe I’m wrong? Maybe it’s the alcohol that keeps you from getting hard? I hear it all the time from my clients, how hubby’s third Manhattan means he can’t get it up. Or is it blow for you? Cocaine causes impotency, too. Maybe lay off the booze and drugs, and you’ll finally make your woman come.” He tipped his head to the side. “On second thought. Never mind that advice. You’ll never satisfy her. You don’t have it in you.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Rex rushed Julian but stopped when Julian held up a hand, palm out.

“You don’t really believe your own bullshit, do you? Because if she can’t come,youare to blame. You and every man who has come before you,” Julian said, his voice low and throaty and a distinct threat. “How many other women have you been unable to get off? I bet there’s a whole trail of them.”

A flicker in the man’s expression told Julian he’d hit a nerve. Pure hatred suddenly burned in his eyes.

That hatred was mutual. And Julian wanted this fucker to feel pain for years to come. “YouassumedI meant she didn’t come. But it was quite the opposite, really. She came,” Julian whispered. “She came, and I only used my tongue.”

Rex searched Julian’s eyes for any hint he was lying.

He’d never find it. Because while the goddess on the bed hadn’t reached climax, it was only because she’d forced herself to stop.

Julian stepped up to Rex, leaned in close, and whispered into his ear. “Imagine how she screamed my name when she came.”

The man’s fist flew toward Julian’s face, just the way he knew it would, and he easily ducked. He chuckled darkly as the momentum of Rex’s punch whirled the man around, and he fell onto the bed.

The bed where Julian had just devoured the sweet nectar of his fiancée.

“You’d better go find your fiancée before I do,” Julian tossed over his shoulder before heading toward the doorway, only to be stopped short by the man’s words.

“She’s gone. I saw her run out the front before I came up here. She took an Uber back to Manhattan without me.”

Julian froze. Damn. He didn’t know her name. Rex certainly wasn’t going to share, not with how Julian had just pissed him off. And the powers that be at the Masquerade Party would never divulge any information about Rex or his fiancée’s identities.

He knew nothing about her except how her pussy tasted. How her nipples pebbled into hard nubs. How she preferred champagne to martinis. How her eyes could pierce through the protective walls around his heart.

She was lost to him. Seemingly forever.

But he was a world-class investigative journalist.

He’d find her.

10

Three months later . . .

The car Julianstepped out of looked no different from the other sleek, black sedans that stretched down the busy Manhattan street outside the exclusive hotel, but he knewhelooked different. Unlike the black tuxedos worn by the sea of bankers, press, New York movers and shakers, and powerful titans of finance who were lining up to present their invitations to the security-flanked doorman, Julian’s tuxedo was a dark blood red.

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