An Everlasting Pursuit (PURSUIT, #3)

by Liv Bennett

  AN EVERLASTING PURSUIT

  LIV BENNETT

  Copyright © 2013 by Liv Bennett

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover image © Zoonar/ Thinkstock.

  Also by Liv Bennett

  AN ILLICIT PURSUIT (PURSUIT, #1) FREE on Amazon!

  THE PURSUIT OF PASSION (PURSUIT, #2)

  DELAYED DELIVERY (PURSUIT, #2.5)

  PLEASURE EXTRAORDINAIRE (PURSUIT, #4) Feb 2014

  https://www.facebook.com/LivBennettAuthor

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  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue – When I see you again

  1 - TAYLOR Craigslist

  2 – ADAM: Lie with Bree

  3 – The accomplice

  4 – ADAM: Jealousy rain

  5 – TAYLOR: Insecurities, go away!

  6 – TAYLOR: Over-priced

  7 – ADAM: Trapped

  8 –TAYLOR: The grand scheme

  9 – TAYLOR: Wrong man kissed

  10 – ADAM: Silence before the storm

  11 – ADAM: When it rains

  12 – TAYLOR: Help!

  13 – LINDSAY: Back in L.A.

  14 – TAYLOR: The imminent fall

  15 – ADAM: Enemy at the door

  16 – LINDSAY: Iron slap

  17 – ADAM: Give in to me

  Excerpt from Pleasure Extraordinaire

  About the author

  Promise to give me a kiss on my brow when I am dead. —I shall feel it.

  - Victor Hugo

  Prologue – VALERIE: When I see you again…

  The sun is going down, signaling another day ending with me still stuck in this psychiatric ward, while that cunt Taylor is having the time of her life with my millions.

  It’s the same routine every day. Warren, a forty-year-old, bald and obese nurse assistant gives me and my roommate our meds, checks our mouths to make sure we swallowed them, and winks at us, before shutting the heavy iron door behind him.

  Today, though, he’s taking extra time on me, not only checking my mouth but groping my boobs, too. I have to take deep breaths through my nose to keep the boiling anger in check, or I’ll not only yank his hand away but bite him in the appropriate place, too. That, however, will only give him all the more reasons to overpower and over-drug me.

  Matilda, my roommate—a fragile girl in her early twenties—keeps her eyes firmly shut and slips under her blanket until her entire body is covered. She’s changed in the last two weeks. She’d never been quite all right to begin with; she talked to herself a lot, moved her left arm up and down nonstop for an hour straight, and jumped at every little sound around her. But, she was never aggressive towards others, neither physically nor verbally, and I caught her smiling at me more than a handful of times during our five-month stay in the same room.

  Once she took her night medications, she’d sleep like a stone without moving a limb. Not the last two weeks, though. Since Saturday two weeks ago, she started speaking through her nightmares, despite the heavy meds, and each time I hear Warren’s name mixed with no’s rolling through her blistered lips. She stopped eating and interacting with others altogether. She doesn’t even leave her bed, except for using the bathroom. I’m sure it was Warren who did something to her that night. I’ve been exposed to some horrible things in my life, but seeing Matilda that Saturday night, crying hopelessly like a mortified child, her white, cotton dress soaked in blood made my heart tear.

  The doctor on the night shift claimed Matilda was only having her period. They may think we’re crazy, but we’re not dumb enough to believe all that blood and the terror on Matilda’s face were just consequences of a simple period. Warren was lucky that I’d just taken my meds, or I’d have known how to chop his hands and every other part of his body that came close to Matilda.

  I’m not psychotic in reality. I just faked it in order to escape prison. But if I stay here another week, I’m sure to become another Matilda.

  I promise myself to find a way to leave this hell and get my revenge on Taylor in the worst possible way. However, before I leave, I’ll make sure Warren and his accomplice doctor pay for what they did to Matilda, and probably many other patients, too.

  Once I’m through with them, they’ll wish it was God who punished them and not me.

  1 – TAYLOR: Craigslist

  A beautiful woman is walking toward us, and I can tell she’s beautiful without looking at her, because of Adam’s sudden withdrawal. His head is tilted down, his eyes on the sidewalk, and a complete silence overtakes him as we walk arm in arm, our steps synced, until the said woman walks past us.

  Just before she disappears, I steal a glimpse at her to see what kind of woman turns my husband into a detached mess. A tall, brunette beauty with a black mini dress. Her eyes sweep over Adam, of course. I shiver at the thought of their eyes connecting and crashing with flame and lust. I’m glad Adam right now cares more about the thick grass flattening under his feet than making any kind of connection, even for a brief moment, with another woman.

  My presence right beside him has nothing to do with his weird, yet calming attitude. I’ve spied on him enough times—while waiting for him at restaurants, movie theaters, shops, grocery stores, just to name a few—to know he always plays the absent, uncaring, and indifferent jerk around other pretty women.

  I never had the courage to ask him why. But, I sense he’s afraid of breaking his own promise to himself to be faithful to me. God forbid a pretty girl may start with eye contact and wind up seducing him into her bed; something along those lines must be his thoughts.

  Funny thing is that he acts just the opposite to the women who aren’t so attractive. Well, at least not attractive to him. He goes all buddy-buddy with the average-looking ladies in our neighborhood, commenting on the cuteness of their kids or dogs, and leaves generous tips to the waitresses with a body size ten or higher.

  I squeeze his butt through his jeans and move my hand up to his waist, as we continue walking leisurely toward our home. Miracle Mile is a beautiful and calm neighborhood, one of the few places you can enjoy taking pleasant strolls right from home in the midst of overly busy Los Angeles. Although I can easily picture myself as one of the content residents of the Miracle Mile for the rest of my life, Adam has already started looking for homes large enough to host an entire army. I’m not even sure I can give birth to one child; much less to the number Adam probably has in mind.

  My infertility issues are still a sore spot between us, despite Adam’s supportive attitude. The hormonal treatment my gynecologist recommended had had too many side effects on me, and I had to stop it before we could see any signs of improvement.

  “There’re always alternative medicines,” Adam says whenever the subject of my failure to conceive comes up. I’m ready to try anything that won’t turn me into a zombie or a ball of agitated nerves. But, I don’t want Adam having his hopes high each time I try a new therapy, only to have them crushed with another failure.

  After Adam’s weeks-long persistence, I started getting acupuncture to treat my hormonal imbalance, though without any positive pregnancy test result, yet.

  My
cell buzzes in my handbag, and I slip my hand inside to pull it out, while the other one is wrapped possessively around Adam’s waist.

  “Who is it?” The jealous tone in Adam’s voice is unmistakable, and I admit it pleases me more than it should.

  “Bree,” I say and tab on the screen of my phone to read the message.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s still at work. She needs to get a boyfriend before she turns to an office rat.”

  “Don’t be crude. She just needs time to adjust to her new duties as the HR manager. That’s all.” I pinch his skin under his shirt, and he jerks away, out of my hold.

  Smirking, I look down at my phone to read Bree’s message. To be honest, I can’t complain about having a workaholic as an employee, even better, a clever one like Bree. It still amazes me how she could complete her entire studies in Economics, while working fulltime. That’s why when Valerie, my ex-HR manager and Jack’s crazed half-sister, showed her real face to me as she tried to kill me, I didn’t think twice about offering the post to Bree.

  Although her job description involves only HR duties, Bree doesn’t refrain from involving herself in the ongoing projects; much to my delight and Adam’s annoyance. Adam doesn’t like to be bossed around, and Bree seems to enjoy doing exactly that. More so thanks to her ever-increasing knowledge of construction business and her elevated level in the company’s hierarchy.

  The message Bree has sent me, though, has nothing to do with work. I read the subject header, which says “I thought you might want to see this ad on Craigslist personals,” and click on the message. She must be on the search for a boyfriend if she’s reading personals on Craigslist.

  I stop in place when I glance at the picture attached to the message. A photo of Adam’s half naked body covers the screen of my phone in all its glory. I scroll down, bringing the phone up close to my face, and scan the text below the photo.

  “The true miracle of the Miracle Mile,

  Thanks to your awesome body, we, three lovely ladies from the same neighborhood, have found a profound desire to jog daily to keep in shape. Just like you do. Every day between six thirty to eight. We’ll be running after you regularly, and hopefully very soon, with you.

  Looking forward to overindulging ourselves with your perfect little butt this evening (even from afar).”

  I can’t find the courage to look up and face Adam. Has he been running without a t-shirt outside? Why in the nine hells haven’t I noticed it?

  “Hey, you okay? You look like you swallowed a whole potato.” Adam sneaks a glance down at my phone, but I yank my hand away before he can see anything. I don’t want him to know he has a fan club.

  “It’s nothing. Just a silly joke Bree found on the internet.” A silly joke, indeed.

  What were those sluts thinking? Taking inappropriate pictures of a married man and posting it all over the Internet? Shit! Adam might be loyal to me to some degree. But what if a beautiful woman, as willing as those Craigslist sluts, crosses his way? Will he remain faithful to me? A man with his libido, equivalent to that of a teenager, can easily fall for the wrong woman in the heat of desire.

  Before I slip the phone back into my bag, I catch a glimpse of Adam’s hand in the picture. I barely concentrate on Adam’s words when he says, “A joke? I want to hear it.”

  I zoom in on the picture to make sure my eyes aren’t fooling me.

  No way. No fucking way.

  He’s not wearing his wedding band while running half-naked outside. Sluts be sluts, there’s no denying that. But, Adam’s naked torso, without his wedding band on his finger, would turn even a frigid nun into a bitch in heat.

  “Hey! Earth to Taylor.”

  “What,” I yell, my voice showing every bit of edginess I feel. “I said, ‘It’s a silly joke.’”

  He steps away from me, holding his hands up, his eyebrows pulled together. “Okay, okay. I didn’t say anything.”

  Turning around, he begins walking toward our apartment building, and I can’t help but wonder on which other occasions he doesn’t wear his wedding band.

  2 – ADAM: Lie with Bree

  “Come here.” I pat the space next to me on the bed. It’s been six days since the last time Taylor and I had sex, because she had her period. Now that it’s over, I must have her or I don’t know how else I’ll be able to get through a busy day of work. I’m already naked except for my boxer briefs. Only, she’s fully clothed and ready to go to work. “And take those clothes off.”

  “We don’t have much time. Work is waiting.” Taylor’s hand is playing with the buttons of the blouse she’s just put on. “Why don’t you wait until this evening?”

  “Because I want you now.” I push down my boxer briefs, kick them off, and start teasing my cock to life. She beams at the sight of my manhood, but won’t give in. “Come here, or I’ll go over there and make sure all the buttons of your pretty shirt hit the ground before I pin you against the wall.”

  Her lips curl up with a slight, devious smile, and I know she’s considering that option. “Every time we arrive late to work, Bree gives me a strange look as if she knows why we’re late.”

  My cock has already grown thick with desire and spurts pre-cum. If she insists on not having sex, I’ll just shove it into her mouth and let her taste my desire for her. I force down the trembling the thought of her full lips tight around my erection is giving me.

  “If you come to me now, like a good girl, I’ll tell you a dirty secret about Bree.” I roll my eyes when she begins unbuttoning her shirt. “I can’t believe a secret convinced you, but my cock didn’t.”

  “Let’s say it’s both. If I know a dirty secret about Bree, I won’t feel that guilty for arriving late.” She shrugs off the shirt, pulls down her skirt, and places them neatly on the chair.

  Standing on my knees on the bed, I unclip her bra, releasing her beautiful breasts from it, and haul her under me. She kicks off her shoes as I take off her panties, but I let her keep the thigh highs.

  “You have nowhere to go now.” I lean down to suck her lower lip, which earns me a moan from deep in her throat. She wants it as badly as I do, yet she’ll still find reasons to postpone it.

  She rubs her chest against mine, bringing her hard nipples to my attention. I move down and mouth one breast and knead the other one with my hand. Her fingers are running through my hair, squeezing and pulling almost to the level of pain. Which can only mean she’s ready without foreplay. Although I’m in the mood for a quickie, I’ll take my time today, despite the busy work ahead of us.

  My hand sneaks between us, stroking her belly and upper thighs before landing on her sensitive flesh. “You’re cruel. Your pussy is soaking wet but you were denying it some good fun.”

  With her eyes closed, she squirms and moans unintelligible words. Without lingering too long, I slide two fingers inside and watch her body arch back.

  What a view.

  Nothing else can beat the pleasure of witnessing how she shatters into a thousand needy pieces under me. I rub the sensitive knot inside her that I know so well and listen to her moans getting louder. Just when the spasms start, I pull out my fingers and bury my cock inside with one hard stroke, watching her eyes fly open and the air leave her body.

  Pulling all the way out save for the tip of my cock, I slam into her once more. “Want to hear Bree’s dirty secret now?”

  She looks at me, confused, as if she doesn’t know what I’m talking about. “Later,” she mumbles. She wants to give all her attention to my cock. How flattering. But, I have other plans.

  “Yesterday, Bree came to my office when you left for your lunch appointment.” I inhale deeply, since pumping into her and talking at the same time take all my breath away. “She was wearing a skirt and no panties underneath.” Now she’s paying attention to my words because she’s staring at me with wide, dilated eyes and eyebrows frowning. So, I continue, “‘How do I know?’ you’ll ask. Because she sat on my desk, spread her legs wide astride me
to show me her unshaven pussy.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” she yells.

  “Keep listening, there’s more to come.” I dig in to quiet her with a long kiss, while keeping up with my furious thrusts inside of her until I have her moaning again. Even angry, she can’t keep herself from reacting to my cock with pleasure.

  Then, I break our kiss to continue my story. Torture or not, I have to get it out. “I should have left the office at that moment, but she’s been bugging me for a long time, touching me, shooting me ‘fuck me’ looks, and stroking her tits on my arms whenever she can. I’m only a man. I have my limits, too.”

  “Shut up. I don’t want to hear it.” She covers her ears with her hands, but I pull them away. I’m an ass like that.

  “So, I licked her pussy and ate her up until she climaxed on my tongue. Oh, man, she tastes so good, like ripe cherries.” My cock feels like it’ll explode any second, but I can’t let it happen yet. Not before I’m done talking. I slow down and plunge into her with long and slow strokes.

  She punches my chest with some serious strength. I let her take her anger out, but her punches only seem to make her angrier. Grabbing her wrists, I pin her arms above her head and lean down for another kiss. This time, though, she rolls her head to the side to escape my lips. I keep her wrists safe in one hand and use the other one to turn her face so I can kiss her. She fights to free her hands, her face, but she’s weak like a little kitten in my hands. She’s so sweet when she’s pissed off and makes me want to fuck her hard until she’s sore and hurting.

  “She’s just as needy as you, but screams much louder. I’m sure people in the other offices heard her. Then I fucked her senseless. Her screams got only louder. Her pussy is so tight, I came with only a few thrusts.”

  “Get off of me. You’re dirtying me,” she roars. She stops fighting, but the tears slide down her temples. Even so, slight moans escape her throat in time with the strokes of my cock. I can feel her pussy muscles tensing and building up toward an orgasm, so I increase my speed and plunge into her with faster and harder thrusts.