Read Falling Star (Beautiful Chaos #2) for Free Online Page A

near you and I regret it.” My words of irony hit me hard in the gut. “Come anywhere near”—yes, I’d come , alright. Big-time. And it had been the best sexual experience of my life. Tears welled in my eyes. He’d broken my heart with his I love you bullshit that I’d believed like the gullible fool I was. “This won’t be happening again,” I added bitterly, “I can guarantee you. I don’t like liars.”
    “It wasn’t exactly a lie,” he said, trying to grab my wrist, but I shook him off—it was too late—the damage had been done.
    I grabbed two more towels so there was nothing left for him to dry himself with, wrapped one around my hair, another over my shoulders, and one around my waist, and stormed out of his trailer, leaving my costume behind. We were done with the prison scenes—he could have my outfit as a memento of what a douchebag he’d been.
    Mom was right. Men, all of them . . . are LYING BASTARDS ! And I thanked my lucky stars (no pun intended) that my virginity was still intact. Close call.
    A very, very close call.

T HAT WAS IT! That was the second and last time I’d fall for Star’s prick-teasing game. What had I been thinking ? Her cock-teasing had reached epic levels of professionalism. And each time I had fallen for it, hook line and sinker. I’d bloody well had enough!
    I sat there humiliated, water dripping all over my trailer—Star had taken all the towels. I grabbed her T-shirt from the floor to dry myself but started swooning with the scent of her instead. Like Al Pacino in Scarface with his coke, I uncontrollably shoved my nose into the fabric that had been touching her skin and inhaled—her sweet sweat, her fragrance—and instantly missed her, my head spinning into a dreamy reverie and wishing I’d just gone along with the “love” story. Why not? Most men did that. Serial monogamy. Fucking one person after another, under the guise of seriously dating each partner in a “forever” relationship, every single time. People even did it with marriages. My dad, for instance. “Committing” a hundred percent, then bailing if it didn’t work out. At least I was being honest.
    Or was I?
    I’d really bungled things. What had I been thinking getting Cassie involved? She was a sweet girl and didn’t deserve this. I was using her for my own ends and I knew—breathing in Star’s T-shirt once more—that having sex with Cassie would be like jerking off to a Playboy centerfold. I’d feel nothing except physical gratification. If I fucked Cassie my mind would be on Star. Was I in love with that prick-teasing bitch? I couldn’t be—I hardly knew her! Yet I was obsessed with her. Possessed by her, and it was doing my head in. I needed to take my power back and be in control. I wasn’t used to these feelings: my stomach like a cement mixer when she touched me, my brain a constant “Starry” Milky Way, thinking about her twenty-four-seven. I sat there, still wet, and fisted my hard cock, memory-flashes of it in her lush, warm mouth, her lips wrapped tightly around me, only twenty minutes before. I frantically jerked myself off, trying to find some relief, knowing that yes, actually—those words I said may well have been true: I was fucking well falling in love.
    With a prick-teasing, manipulative, control-freak virgin:
    Star bloody Davis.

I CAREENED STRAIGHT into Biff as I stomped away from Jake’s trailer (okay, not really stomping as I was barefooted).
    “Star, you’ll catch a cold—let me take you home.”
    “Home?”
    “Yes, back to Jake’s. You’re done shooting for the day.” Biff knew my schedule better than I did.
    “I need to go to my own home first,” I said. “I need to see the contractor.” I had no intention of ever going back to Jake’s. So he could torment me with his ‘real’ girlfriend? Not a chance. I thought I could perhaps stay in the maid’s apartment above my garage, as my house would be a dusty mess; if not, I’d come back to my