Pleasure Extraordinaire 2 (PURSUIT) Read online

  Copyright © 2014 by Liv Bennett

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  Table of Contents

  1 - The Awakening

  2 - Panther

  3 - The Offer

  4 - The Explosion

  5 - The Revenge

  6 - The Family

  7 – The Cruelty

  8 - The Persuasion

  9 - The Truth

  Read an excerpt from THE PURSUIT OF PASSION

  About The Author

  FOR MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY

  The Awakening

  Taylor, Adam, and I climb into the stretch limousine Michael sent for us for the engagement party he’s organizing for Chloe and her boyfriend. Even though I now own a new metallic-white Audi Q5 that drives like a dream, I prefer not to be behind the wheel tonight because I’m a nervous wreck about the upcoming hours.

  I slide beside Edric while Taylor and Adam get the seats across us. Edric offers his hand to Taylor while his eyes are plastered on Adam. “Wow, you both are a delight to look at. I’m sure you’ll make some absolutely gorgeous babies.”

  I jerk my head toward Taylor to see if Edric’s words hurt her. They’d hurt me if I’d gone through what she did, but she smiles almost shyly and looks up at Adam. I have to roll my eyes and focus my attention on somewhere else, because the two seem to be getting into some kind of hypnosis session with their lovey-dovey stare, and I’d rather not be exposed to it.

  Edric nudges my elbow, leaning to my ear, but his voice is loud when he says, “Why the hell haven’t you told me about the existence of such a sexy guy in your family? Does he have a single brother or a cousin who looks like him?”

  Right! How could I forget Adam is a magnet for any woman and apparently gay guys too? Before I can tell Edric to shut up and mind his own business, I hear Adam laughing.

  “I have four crazy sisters whom I’d readily exchange for a brother or two. But I’ve got none. No cousins either.”

  “Shoot.” Edric waves his hand toward him, his cheeks flushing, making him look absolutely adorable.

  “Do you know anything about Chloe’s soon-to-be fiancé?” I ask in an attempt to change the topic.

  “Of course, I do. It’s not just my job. His name is all over the Internet. His father, Clark Berenson, used to own the Berensons Country Club Taylor and Adam are now converting into a residential area under Michael’s contract. They were never on good terms before the sale and it got even worse afterwards. You have no idea how furious Michael was when he found out Chloe was dating his enemy’s son.”

  “Oh. But that’s water under the bridge now, right? Otherwise Michael wouldn’t want to host the engagement party at his house,” I point out. Taylor is intently listening to our conversation, and I have an idea why. She once told me she was concerned about Chloe’s unusual friendliness toward Adam, but the news about her engagement plans must have taken that worry out of Taylor’s heart.

  “If there’s one thing you should learn about powerful men—” Edric says, pulling me out of my thoughts. “—it is that they don’t forget or let go of things as easily as an ordinary person would do. He’s still not given up on the hope of Chloe breaking up with Dylan.”

  I shift in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position in the red, satin dress I’m wearing, hoping it won’t tear apart with my moves. It cost five thousand dollars; it should survive at least today for the amount paid for it. “If you ask me, he’s right to hope so. I wouldn’t trust my daughter to my competition’s son, either.”

  “I’m glad you’re on the same side with Michael on this matter. That’s the right attitude to have as his girlfriend.” Edric laughs, elbowing me.

  I blink several times, uncomfortable by the title Edric labeled my relationship with Michael and work hard to cover up my uneasiness. To my rescue, the car pulls up and the doors open on both sides.

  I look out of the door to study the immense mansion ahead of me. I’ve never been to Michael’s house. Hell, I’ve never seen even a picture of it. It’s so intimidatingly large, I’m sure running around the entire building would count as a marathon. As soon as I get out, Edric whispers in my ear, “Lindsay, can I have a word with you about the new project?”

  I glance at him, frowning, then at Taylor and Adam. “You guys go ahead. I’ll see you in a minute.”

  After Taylor and Adam disappear behind the majestic French doors of the house, Edric grabs me gently by the elbow and guides me to a corner, where we can be alone without people bustling around us.

  “What’s the problem” I ask, suspicious about his need to be discreet about our conversation. Is it about Michael or the contract?

  “I received your bill from Pleasure Extraordinaire earlier today.”

  I cringe at having to talk about my sexual life with a colleague I barely know. “Was it very expensive?”

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s pennies for Michael, but hey, two escorts in one afternoon? You know how to use Michael’s money on good deeds, or should I say dudes?” He winks with a naughty smile flashing across his lips.

  Two escorts? “There must be a mistake. I was with one only.” I immediately remember that horrible day, where Zane came close to death for licking coconut oil off of me, then paid me a surprise visit to deliver his incomplete service. As much as I enjoyed our sex to the point that I flew to the moon and back with the orgasm shooting in me, I felt disgusted for allowing Michael’s son to use me that way. Where did my work ethic go?

  A blue sports car pulls up, and Zane gets out of it with elegance only he can have, wearing an expensive black tux. He looks around with confidence bursting out of his entire demeanor, as if he’s the only person to be paid attention to in the entire town. He wouldn’t be completely wrong about it. His beauty and the pure carnality pouring out of every inch of his body is making my sex pulse as the memories of him taking me mercilessly fill my mind.

  Gaping at him, with my mouth popped open no less, I begin doubting myself at the correctness of my memory of that day. Why would a man with his exquisiteness and power want to be my escort for an afternoon? The answer to that isn’t difficult actually, considering my fake relationship with his father. He just wanted to taste the forbidden fruit. That can be the only reason for his desire for me. And now that he got what he wanted, he won’t waste a second glance at me.

  Edric disrupts my thoughts by lifting his hand right up to my face, waving it to pull me back from the dirty images of that afternoon at my home that were floating in my mind. “Hey, I get it. They were simply too good to choose just one, so you went with both. I’d do the same if I was you, but unfortunately they don’t serve gays. At least not yet.”

  I can barely listen to Edric while I watch Zane opening the door of the passenger side of his car. A beautiful woman, most likely a fashion model with her long legs and size-zero body, holds out her hand for Zane to grab and help her out. I struggle to keep the disappointment that freezes my heart on the spot, when I see the girl sliding her slim arms around Zane’s waist while he kisses her lips with the intimacy of a long-time lover.

  “Seriously,” I mutter. “I was only with one escort.” I tear my eyes away from the painful sight of Zane sharing a deep kiss with that woman and focus myself on my conversation with Edric so I can keep my sanity.

  Mr. Ice charged me for two men. Yes, that information should be powerful enough to divert my attention. I should feel angry, and yes, I am indeed. That son of a bitch. Then it occurs to me. He must have charged for the blow job I gave to him. My gesture was mostly for his pleasure, to help him get his release. But no, he has to get p
aid for being blown off. It’s working. My heart is back to pumping fast with anger at Mr. Ice. “How much was it in total?”

  I hardly notice Zane and his date strolling through the front doors. As much as I’m angry with Mr. Ice, a part of me feels glad at his fraud for keeping my mind off Zane.

  “Not much. Thirty-three hundred. Like I said, it’s nothing for Michael. Don’t you worry your beautiful head about those insignificant details.”

  “That much money?” I could have hired JJ for that amount if I knew I’d get half the service I was supposed to get with two men. The longer I think about Mr. Ice’s rudeness, the more rage fills me up. He’s a liar and opportunist to twist the bill of a client this way. Just because Michael happens to have a lot of money doesn’t give anyone right to exploit him.

  I hear Michael calling for me and I turn to see him getting out of a limo parked behind Zane’s car.

  “I’ll see you later,” I tell to Edric and head toward Michael, nearly running, because seeing Michael’s sunshine face is a pull to my usually depressed, disappointed, and angry self. “Hey, Michael. So nice to see you.”

  He spreads his arms open and wraps them around me when I’m in front of him. “Had I known I’d be welcomed like this, I’d drive over to your place and pick you up myself.” Leaning down, he brushes my cheek with a smooth kiss for a brief second. I hear the click of a camera from a distance at the moment of his kiss, but I don’t see anyone when I pull back and scan around.

  “I had an urgent meeting with one of the associates,” Michael adds.

  “Are you seriously giving me an excuse for sending a limousine to have me picked up?”

  He holds my hand, directing me back to the stairs. A couple walks past us, turning only briefly to greet Michael. I squeeze my hand around his as we stroll toward the front door that a security guard holds open for us.

  We don’t talk; we don’t even look at each other in the elevator that takes us to the salon where the party is held. My heart shoots up as we step out of the cab and head toward the doors of the salon. If no one knew about our relationship, they’ll know it now. His family, friends, employees, business partners, and the worst of all: the media. Edric mentioned to me a few days ago; they had invited reporters from Hawkins’ Media to get our pictures taken to be published in magazines and on the Internet.

  Just before the doorman waiting in front of the salon opens the doors for us to enter, Michael lifts my hands to his lips, with a reassuring smile on his face, and stares at my eyes pointedly. “It’s all right. They’re all friends, and family, and people who work for me. I’ll introduce you to some of my business associates, and then we’ll get our pictures taken. That’ll be it.”

  Once the word, “Okay,” escapes my mouth, Michael nods to the doorman, and he opens the door for us. I’m momentarily blinded by the flash of lights as we make our grand entrance. I’m only dating Michael. I’m not even his girlfriend, but the intense attention we get from the guests tells me just the opposite. As if the engagement party is thrown for us.

  Holding tightly onto Michael’s hand and breathing deeply, I take hesitant steps toward the ocean of people. Just friends, family and people who work for Michael make easily three-four-hundred people, because the majestic salon is filled up to the brim with the sheer number of guests.

  If I felt nervous before entering, now I’m suffocating with fear. It’s not the first time my photograph will be taken by the media, but never have I felt so exposed before so many eyes that are staring at me with curiosity, and even condemnation, as if they’ve seen through my little role play as Michael’s date.

  Whatever Edric might have claimed about my relationship with Michael to prove that this isn’t a lie and that Michael and I are just dating and getting to know each other, what I’m doing here is indeed a lie. Michael might have taken me out on a date, but we both know it wasn’t a real date that might have led up to romance. And worse yet, it’s not even a genuine help to a friend. I’m getting paid for it.

  My mouth goes dry, and I feel blood draining out of me. Working hard to breathe in and out long and evenly so I am able to walk straight, I smile at the cameras pointing at me. Not even Michael gets half the attention the media untactfully showers on me.

  At one point, upon the request of one of the reporters, Michael leaves my hand so the photographers take more of my pictures, like they haven’t already had enough to fill up the memory cards of their cameras.

  My eyes look for Taylor in the crowd so I can feel a bit of familiarity in this eccentric situation, and when I spot her, she grins at me with warmth and joy. Is she enjoying the party? Sure, she’ll have a chance to get to know people who hold the ties to the State’s economy and maybe spread the name of her construction company. At least, my little deceit might help her get more clients. Feeling a little calmer and more in control of my body, I direct my gaze at the cameras and flash a broad smile, one of which I’ve practiced a lot around the time my name became famous as Iron Slap.

  Edric comes beside me, discreetly whispering in my ear that one of the reporters requested to have a private interview with me about my relationship with Michael. I try my best not to look at him in horror as I relay him my acceptance.

  After the long, sweat-inducing photo session is over, Edric guides me to a relatively secluded corner, only occupied with two men, whom I assume are responsible for security. As soon as I’m introduced to the reporter, a middle-aged, brunette lady, Edric leaves us alone.

  I sit cautiously on the chair opposite the reporter and cross my legs, settling my hands in loose fists on my lap. She bombards me with questions which I can answer easily and with full honesty, like what my first reaction was when I met Michael, whether it was attraction at first sight, whether I thought of making a move during the period where I didn’t hear anything from Michael after our first meeting.

  Despite my initial horror, I find myself explaining more than her questions are aimed at, going into detail about my fascination with Michael’s looks, gentleness, care, and diligence when it comes to his work. All in all, nothing comes out of my mouth is smeared with lies, and I have a nagging suspicion that Michael went through her questions before allowing her to do the interview.

  Michael shows up the second the reporter ends the interview and asks her to send the article to him prior to publishing it. When she’s gone, Michael holds out his hand to help me to my feet and leaves a quick kiss on my cheek. That’s the second kiss in half an hour. Should I be worried about his unusual kiss attack? I don’t mutter that thought.

  “Thanks for the interview. I haven’t felt this flattered in years,” he says, smiling.

  “Have you been listening?” I feel my cheeks turn hot at his playful smile.

  He nods, broadening his smile.

  “You should know, everything I said is my true feelings about you.”

  “I know. I had no idea I had such an effect on women.”

  “Yeah, right. Like I’ll believe that.” I roll my eyes, slamming into him with my shoulder playfully. I’m sure Zane doesn’t have a tenth of Michael’s humility when it comes to his looks. Oh, Zane. Perhaps it’s a good thing he’s with another woman, so I can put forth a serious effort to take him out of my mind and forget about the hot and sweaty minutes we shared in my apartment.

  Michael holds my hand and points with his head toward the door. “Shall we?”

  With a renewed confidence, I follow suit, and this time I show up at the salon with more confidence and determination to enjoy the party. Michael guides me through the mass of people, stopping practically every second to shake hands and introduce me.

  I smile and try to exchange a few words of greetings with the guests, but after half an hour of repeating the same thing, my facial muscles begin to hurt for having been pulled up for so long, and my stomach growls with hunger. I’m glad for the live music and the noise of people chatting around me for covering up the embarrassing proof of my hunger.

  To keep myse
lf from dying of complete boredom while Michael exchanges niceties with the guests, I dedicate myself to analyzing the dresses the ladies chose to wear for this luscious party. After red, the colors of gold and silver seem to be in trend and also the shorter the better for the skirts.

  After an hour of shaking hands and rinse-and-repeat introductions, we finally reach our table, where Taylor and Adam are also sitting. Michael excuses himself to continue involving himself with his guests, and I plop my already tired body into the chair beside Taylor and grab a piece of the pastry to calm my raging stomach.

  “This party is unreal,” Taylor whispers to my ear. “How are you doing?”

  “All right, I guess. Have you met anyone interesting?”

  “Yeah. Dylan Berenson’s parents.”

  “Did you find out why they sold the Country Club? I thought golf is a permanent money-making machine, since wealthy men love hanging out with their wealthy fellows.”

  Taylor shrugs. “Don’t ask me.” Then she turns to Adam, who is busying himself with his phone. “Have you heard anything about why the Berensons sold the Country Club?”

  Adam just shrugs, keeping his eyes locked on his phone. “I’m not sure, but according to the rumors, some drug lords used it as their location to make deals. Once the police found it out, they canceled the liquor license of the club. That was the beginning of the end, I guess.”

  What a way to end a successful business? Even one of the safest businesses can flip unexpectedly. Which makes me feel grateful for having decided to accept Michael’s offer in exchange for money. Just like I lost my job without actually being at fault after suing the supervisor who tried to harass me sexually, Clark Berenson lost his business because of other people’s misconduct.

  “What are you looking at?” I hear Taylor asking Adam, but my mind is busy with feeling compassion for the Berenson family and contemplating people who ruin others’ livelihood.

  Through the line of people, I glance at Chloe and her fiancé Dylan. Both being gorgeous and glamorous, they make an eye-catching couple. Yet, I’m failing to see any passion or intimate glances between the two. They hold hands, yes, but nothing else in their behavior proves they’re going through the first step of uniting their lives. Perhaps, they’re well-versed on how to behave when surrounded by an immense number of people and cameras. If acting distant is the norm, then I should be happy about how I act with Michael, because he and I react the same way to each other as Chloe and Dylan.