Lucky You Are Ch 02

So here is Chapter 2!

Some people's names have been changed...

Please vote, comment, or flood my email....whatever your preference (:

Enjoy! *******

"Turn that down!" Demi bitched for the fifth time. Once again Julian ignored her, giving her a slight sideways glance as she reclined in the passenger seat, dark aviators on.

"This is the Watch the Throne album. I'm not turning shit down. Besides, you're in my damn car. We have another half an hour to your house, and I would hope you would just shut the hell up the rest of the ride," he growled.

Demi gasped. "Did you just tell me to shut the hell up? Pull over. I'll get home on my own."

Julian snorted. He was picturing Demi hitchhiking on the side of the road in her skintight jeans and five-inch heels. Yeah she'd get a ride all right. "I'm not stopping this car, so unless you're gonna try the stop, drop and roll method while the car's going 80mph, I suggest you just be quiet."

Her mouth gaped open and then closed as she fought to think of something snappy to say. Finding none, she huffed and sat still in her seat.

Julian was only granted a few minutes of silence however when his phone started ringing again. Looking onto the lit up screen of his navigation, he saw it said unknown number. Muttering a curse, he pressed the accept button for the Bluetooth. "De Luca," he said shortly.

"Hello, Mr. De Luca. Please just confirm if I understand this right. You are currently the temporary manager for Demi Smith, correct?" a soft voice, female, asked.

Out of the corner of his eye, Julian could see Demi perk up. He took a sharp turn, which sent her crashing slightly into the door. She narrowed her eyes at him. He smirked.

"Yes, I am. Who is this?" He asked, back to business.

"This is Amerie Cole, I'm the editor-in-chief for Vibe magazine. I wanted to know if we could get Demi to be on our December cover," she inquired.

"Demi's not available tomorrow through Friday, but if you're open Saturday, I can book it."

"Saturday's perfect. Do you think she'd be willing to do a nude shoot?"

Again Julian gave glanced at her. Her lips seemed to be set in a pout, as if she were thinking. After a few seconds, she nodded.

"Yes, she would."

"Great! We'll shoot Saturday at nine a.m. And I hope to see you guys then. Thank you, Mr. De Luca."

"No problem."

As the phone clicked off, his current favorite album started playing again, filling up the silence.

"I can't believe you actually remembered my schedule. When I explained it to you, you had this dumb look on your face, as if you didn't comprehend. Impressive," she said, a backwards compliment.

Julian rolled his eyes, sighing in relief as they finally pulled up in front of her house. "Yeah, well, I try," he muttered.

"Aren't you going to drive me up the driveway?" she asked, slightly pouting.

"Wasn't planning to, why?"

"My feet hurt," she whined.

"Giuseppe wasn't built for comfort, babe. Ever heard of Easy Spirits?"

She gasped like he personally insulted her. Maybe he had. "They are not Giuseppe, they are Louboutin!"

Julian shrugged. Not like he cared. The only knowledge he knew of heels were how to take them off of his...lady friends.

"Just take me up to the front door," she demanded.

"Look, gas is four dollars a gallon. I'm not wasting anymore of it on you."

Demi shrieked with outrage. "Consider yourself fired, Mr. De Luca!"

"I don't want to work for you anyway!" he yelled back.

She slapped him.

Julian flipped. He could feel the blood rushing to his face as his hands gripped the steering wheel hard. The veins in his arms and throat were pushing to the surface of his skin. A true Italian temper. Before he could control himself, he was throwing open his car door, and slamming it with a force that shook the car's frame. He walked around to the passenger side, pulled her out and threw her over his shoulder. ****** "Hey, what the fuck are you doing!" Demi yelled, shocked. Julian, for all intents and purposes, ignored her. His feet heavily pounding up her driveway. She could feel the muscles from his shoulder and arm flexing against her body and she shivered.

He smelled so damn good too! It was a scent of expensive cologne and...something else. A tiny fissure of excitement ran up her spine.

At the front door, Julian tersely said, "Keys," and she promptly supplied him with them. Stepping into the house, they were immediately greeted by her maid, Lena and her dog, which she named after her favorite hotel, St. Regis. Poor Lena looked very confused and worried.

"Mr.? Ms.?"

The dog barked furiously.

"Bedroom?" His voice was still deep and cold. "Upstairs, make a left, last door on the right," Demi said, not wanting his temper to blow...again.

Julian traveled upstairs, jostling her slightly as he did. The confused maid and barking dog could still be heard behind them. Demi gave the maid a little sign that she hope translated to, "Help me!"

But she didn't think the maid was smart enough to understand.

Before Demi knew it, she was being thrown onto her bed, with Julian's massive frame leaning over hers. His arms were supporting him and barricading her head. "Now," he started, calmly, not sounding out of breath at all. Anger glossed over his eyes making his midnight blue eyes glint. Demi for the most part tried not to think about the slightly compromising position they were in. Although, she couldn't help but think he was a man that knew exactly what to do with her...if he wanted to. He'd give it to her so good she'd cry.

It'd never happened to her before, but she was willing to give it a try.

No, bad Demi, she thought to herself. Stay away from Elijah De Luca's son.

"Now," he was saying. "You're going to stop bitching. I'm going to go into your bathroom and turn the hot water on in the tub. You are going to take off your shoes and you are going to soak the feet you claim hurt so fucking much. And you are going to stay in that bathroom until I leave and I am far, far away. Did you get all of that, or do I have to repeat myself?" He uttered through his teeth, repeating words she had similarly said to him.

Demi opened up her mouth to say something, when Julian cut her off by grabbing her blonde hair and pulling her face closer to his. Blood rushed to the area between her legs and began to pulsate. "Not another fucking word," he growled.

"Get off of me. This has to be sexual harassment," she claimed, not sounding too sure.

Julian snorted, but his angry expression never changed. "The way you're dressed, I'd say you're begging for it." He let go of her and backed up, heading for the bathroom.

"Cocksucker!" she yelled behind him.

"You will be," he threw over his shoulder.

Demi waited until she heard the faucet running before she slid her heels off in a huff. She stomped over to the bathroom, wincing at the pain.

"In," he uttered, his tone clipped.

"Listen, I don't appreciate you talking to me like-"

"Didn't I tell you before to stop fucking talking? Get your feet in this damn tub. Right now."

Demi narrowed her eyes at him. "No," she declared, poking him in the chest.

Julian's eyes flared up with renewed anger. It was noticeable enough that she slightly hesitated. "Do. Not. Touch. Me."

She laughed sourly. "Big bad Julian doesn't like to be touched. Well," she poked him in the chest again.

"I. Don't. Fucking. Care," she cursed, poking him with emphasis on every word.

Julian's eyes narrowing to mere slits were the only warning she had before he, quite literally, pushed her in the tub.

Demi sputtered and flapped around in a watery prison while Julian looked on and laughed. Regaining her balance, Demi pushed a thatch of blonde hair out of her face and glared at him.

"Wet yet?" Julian managed to ask, before delivering more deep, rumbling laughs.

His beautiful face was tossed back and his eyes were closed as he laughed, therefore, he was unable to see when she reached out a watery hand and grabbed his shirt, pulling him in to the filled tub.

As he sputtered and splashed around, she turned off the faucet and tried to rearrange her hair again. She noticed he became quiet and still. Looking up, she saw him staring at her, or rather, her chest.

"What?" she asked absentmindedly before looking down to see for herself. Her white shirt, now soaked with water, became see-through. The shape of her breasts could be seen. Her areolas and nipples pressed tight against the stretchy fabric of her t-shirt. She blushed in mortification before looking back up at him. He was staring at her so intently, a nameless spark in his eye. She quickly lifted her hands and awkwardly covered her breasts.

"Would you quit-" She managed to get out before Julian grabbed her by her hair and glued his lips to hers. A huge hand traveled to her hip, pulling her forward and forcing her into a straddling position. Demi wrapped her arms around his shoulders and opened her mouth as his tongue nudged hers for entry. Her nerves were on edge, and every stroke of his tongue against hers caused an answering throb between her legs.

Demi felt Julian's hand as it abandoned her hip to mold her breast and pull her nipple. She threw her head back, moaning at the intense feeling of pleasure and pain it caused. **** "Feel good?" he asked as he nipped her chin. His voice was rough, primal, filled with an aroused huskiness that surprised him. The effect this girl had on him in mere minutes was startling.

He knew he should let her go and leave, but...

Julian's fingers explored further, found her jean-clad ass and flexed. Demi let out a startled cry, staring at him with those wide greenish hazel eyes of hers.

Before she could say anything, his lips covered hers, his tongue stroking hers. Demi sighed into his mouth, leaning heavily on him.

Julian briefly pulled away long enough to take her shirt off. Her breasts were magnificent, standing proudly on their own; they didn't sag with age. And as he reached for one, squeezing and testing its weight in his warm palm, he knew they were natural. As he leaned forward and pulled a dusky nipple into his mouth, Demi shivered almost violently.

Leaning back, Julian smirked, "Are you cold?"

"Yes. No," she answered breathlessly, laughing at herself. "I can't think when you look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm about to get the fuck of my life in this tub," she said, biting her lip.

A lascivious smile graced his lips even as his cock jumped in his pants. "Maybe you are."

Demi bit her lip again and looked away. "I have something to say."

Julian made an encouraging noise even as he suckled at her neck.

"I told you I can't think when you do that," she whined half-heartedly.

"Don't think, just feel," he said.

They were both silent for a second before busting into laughter. "Okay, definitely not my finest line," Julian, admitted.

"No, definitely not. That...that was very corny and clichéd," Demi laughed.

"Fine. Fine. What did you want to say to me?"

Again she looked away, avoiding his gaze. He had to strain to hear her, but when he did he froze.

"Julian?" she asked worriedly.

"Come again?" he asked, even as he began to pull away from her. His voice sounded emotionless and hollow even to him.

Demi flinched slightly and looked down at the water with sudden interest. "I'm a virgin."

Julian nodded to himself and jumped out of the tub.

"Where are you going?" Demi yelled after him.

"Far away from here," Julian muttered.

"Wait!" she called. He would have kept walking had he not felt a small hand grab for his wrist.

Turning around he dragged a hand down his face while muttering, "How the hell could you be a virgin?" Briefly, he let himself think of the irony that a sex symbol hadn't even had sex yet.

"I just never got around to having sex," she said, defensively. "But I have a proposition for you."

Julian looked at her gorgeous, slightly irritated face and his eyes began to trail down to see her still wet, caramel-toned sculpted body. As his eyes left her perky breast, he found that his eyes snagged on her waistline. How the hell was her waist so small? He asked himself, angry. "What did you just say?"

She rolled her eyes and he immediately knew the Demi in the tub was no longer there. She was back to being her demanding, bitchy self. "I said, I have a proposition for you."

His fist balled at his sides and he gritted his teeth. "Could you at least put a shirt on?"

Demi smirked smugly before quickly unbuttoning her jeans and wiggling her sweet ass out of them.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Julian asked through teeth that were so clenched he was unsure if she was able to make out what he said. His fists were still balled tightly at his sides, his arm muscles flexing with the effort not to touch her. If he allowed himself to look down, he would see that she had on boy shorts, his favorite on women.

"Trying to persuade you into accepting my proposition," she said, answering his previous, forgotten, question. Demi slinked- yes, slinked, for it was the only way he could describe her catlike grace- over to him. She stopped in front of him, so close there was no air between them. Every time she breathed, her breasts brushed against his wet shirt.

His fingernails cut into the skin of his palms as he clenched tighter.

"Have sex with me and teach me all there is to know about sex and seduction," she whispered, looking up at him from under thick sooty lashes.

You have the seduction part down, he thought ruefully.

"Now why would I do that?" His jaw was beginning to hurt from being clenched so tightly, but her close proximity was pushing him to his limits.

"Its unlimited sex with Demi Smith. Every guy's wet dream since I landed that Sports Illustrated cover," she stated conceitedly.

But damn her, it was probably true.

"Why me?"

"Because after three weeks, we won't have to see each other anymore. Because I know you won't say anything to anybody because I would fire your dad and I'm sure you don't want to upset him," she stopped briefly to reach up and curl a finger in his curly black hair. Julian restrained himself from touching her, knowing that if he did, he wouldn't be able to stop.

"And because if you did say anything, I could just say a little something to the press and you could kiss your company sales goodbye." Demi sealed his fate with a sweet kiss to his still red lips. He made no move to join her in the kiss but she seemed okay with that as she pulled back and ran her hand down his stomach and rubbed his cock through his jeans. Julian inhaled deeply, cursing himself silently.

"Your cock says yes," he groaned softly at hearing her say cock, "but what do you say?" Her hand rubbed against him more urgently, drawing another groan from him before he grabbed her arms and pushed her into the nearest wall. **** Demi suddenly found herself pinned against the wall and a hand around her neck, an erection poking her stomach, and an angry Italian staring her. "Wrap you legs around me you fucking minx," he growled and she rushed to do just that, an undeniable wetness in her panties. She moaned as the new position made his erection nudge her clit in the sweetest way.

"Now you listen to me. I don't take being threatened lightly. The only reason why I'm going to agree to this is because of my father and my company. With that said, you're not aloud to spread these golden legs for anybody except for me until your little proposition is fulfilled." He paused to smirk at her. "And I require that you call me daddy when we're in private."

Demi bristled. She was not calling him that. "I am not saying that."

Julian tweaked a nipple. "Of course not. You'll be screaming it."

Demi glared at him. "Is that all?"

"For now."

"Fine. Now I have something to add, since we're adding rules. You can't fuck any other girl either. I don't want any surprises in the form of STDs."

"I'll think about it," Julian said, releasing her and backing up. She immediately wanted to mourn the loss but shook herself out of it.

"You'll think about it?" she shrieked.

"Yes. You already made your proposition and rules. You should have thought about that before. You told me I had to fuck you, teach you all there is to know about sex and seduction, and keep my mouth shut. You never said I only got to fuck you," Julian replied, the smug smile on his face.

He had a face as innocent as an angel, but a mind as cunning as the devil's.

"Fine! Get out!" She exclaimed, limping, feet radiating with pain, into her closet for something to wear. The brief sexual tension had caused her to forget why he'd run the bath in the first place. Damn heels.

He followed her. "What? I don't get to claim my prize?"

"No! Not now, we have shit to do, manager," she said his title scathingly. "So shoo out of here! Skedaddle like Fred Flintstone. Make sure you get back here to pick me up at 6 for the black tie event."

Julian narrowed his eyes at her briefly before muttering, "Yabba dabba do."

Demi let out a breath when she heard her bedroom door close.

Damn him!