An Illicit Pursuit Read online

  AN ILLICIT PURSUIT

  by

  Liv Bennett

  ~~~

  Smashwords Edition

  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 ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  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 by conrado/ shutterstock

  AN ILLICIT PURSUIT

  by

  Liv Bennett

  CHAPTER 1 – ADAM

  CHAPTER 2 – PAT

  CHAPTER 3 - PAT

  CHAPTER 4 - PAT

  CHAPTER 5 – PAT

  CHAPTER 6 - PAT

  CHAPTER 7 - PAT

  CHAPTER 8 - PAT

  CHAPTER 9 - PAT

  CHAPTER 10 - PAT

  CHAPTER 11 - PAT

  CHAPTER 12 - PAT

  CHAPTER 13 - ADAM

  CHAPTER 14 - ADAM

  CHAPTER 15 - PAT

  CHAPTER 16 – ADAM

  CHAPTER 17 – PAT

  CHAPTER 18 – PAT

  Excerpt from The Pursuit of Passion (Taylor & Adam)

  About The Author

  An Illicit Pursuit is the prequel to The Pursuit of Passion (Taylor & Adam), but each book can be read as a standalone with no cliffhangers.

  ***

  Due to strong language and descriptive sex scenes, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18.

  CHAPTER 1 – ADAM

  Two weeks into the fall quarter of my senior year, I manage to squeeze a lunch between classes with my best friend Jack at the In-N-Out. His father passed away shortly after having a heart attack in the early spring, and his mother is still deeply grieving. As a way to lift up her spirit, Jack is taking her on a one-week trip to Italy. I wish I could join them and ditch my girlfriend and maybe enjoy some beautiful, Italian ladies.

  “Naomi is acting very weird lately,” I say and take a bite from my cheeseburger, cautiously scanning the tables around us for eavesdroppers or onlookers. “She’s scaring me.” The irony of my words hasn’t escaped me. I’m six feet three, muscled, and strong. And Naomi, my girlfriend, who very soon will be an ex, is fragile both physically and mentally. Just a few wrong words are enough to set her off crying for hours, and she looks like a little push could send her to the hospital because she’s so fucking skinny.

  “You need to give her one last chance. She loves you, man. Otherwise, she wouldn’t act that way. Every girl has a little bit of craziness in her,” Jack says, ever the good-hearted. My best friend for life. I’m starting to think he’s the reason I had four sisters and no brothers, so I’m able to value his friendship better. But, even if I had half-a-dozen brothers, he’d still come first because he donated, without asking for anything in return, a part of his lung to my mother when she had no chance to survive without his generosity.

  “I don’t feel generous enough to give her another chance. I’m tired of dealing with her issues without getting any attention in return.” I lean in and lower my voice. “She hasn’t let me touch her for three months. Three fucking months.”

  Jack bursts into a tear-producing laugh. Easy for him to be entertained like this. He’s patient like a fucking monk, as if he has no sex drive at all. Or at least he doesn’t show it. I’m not like him. I have to have the full advantage of having a girlfriend. Otherwise what’s the point of dealing with all their craziness?

  I wait until his laughter subsides. “I don’t love her, anyway.”

  “Now, that’s a valid point. No need to twist your arm into something you’re not happy about.”

  “Yeah. I still want another girl, though. Someone drama-free, sexy, who will tend to my needs, and make me the center of her world...”

  “Hey, that’s my line.” He drops his hamburger on the tray and jokingly punches me in the shoulder.

  “Your line was a drama-free, sexy brunette who’ll tend your needs,” I correct him. “I don’t care whether she’s blonde or brunette. A sexy girl who loves sex and food is all I need.”

  “How about her?” Jack points toward a girl with wavy blonde hair with plump chest and mini skirt. She may have other qualities, but those three are the first ones I spot during my one-second glimpse at her before she raises her head to glance at our direction.

  I turn my head down to my tray of food reflexively and then look back at her, though this time casually. Yes, she definitely has more qualities to her, like curvy hips, smooth skin, pink, glowing cheeks, as if she’s just had an orgasm, and twinkling blue eyes. The guitar case lying on the chair beside her puzzles me. Can she play it and maybe sing, too? That’s absolutely my dream-girl quality. I find myself already envisioning her totally naked on my bed, except for the guitar in her lap, and singing songs as beautiful as her face, just for my own pleasure.

  “She’s cute,” I say. More than cute.

  “Stop staring at her. You’ll scare her away.” Jack nudges me. “Just go and ask for her number.”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t broken up with Naomi yet.”

  “Ask for her number now; you can call her after you’re done talking to Naomi.”

  “Yeah, I’m gonna do that.” I start to get up, but the girl is already on her feet, walking toward the counter in the opposite direction from me. Before I can decide how to proceed, she grabs a paper bag with her order and heads toward the exit.

  “What now? Shall I run after her?”

  “I would if I were you.”

  I consider for a while and hurry outside. I turn left, where she’s walked, and see two Asian girls, a middle-aged couple with a stroller, and a man, but not her. A black Toyota parked beside the sidewalk pulls away to join the main street, and I spot a curly, blonde head in it.

  Shit, she’s escaped as quickly as she appeared.

  ***

  I’m driving around the tiny parking lot of Trader Joe’s, trying to find a slot, and am momentarily stopped by a lady with a full shopping cart, crossing in front of me. Drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, I whistle to tune out my sisters, Nikki and Brendie. How they can find so much nonsense to talk about is beyond me. I’m fine as long as they don’t pull me into their infinite discussions, though.

  “You promised you’d drive us to the beauty salon tomorrow,” Brendie squeaks.

  “Huh, what’d you say?” I’ve heard what she’s said, but I’m totally annoyed by the woman in front of us, walking at the speed of a turtle.

  “The beauty salon. Tomorrow. You’re driving us there,” Brendie points out again.

  “Weren’t you already at one last week?”

  “That was for a haircut. Tomorrow’s appointment is for waxing.” Nikki joins in.

  “What waxing?” I skim Brendie up and down. She’s wearing shorts a little above her knees and a t-shirt. She’s not hairy enough to need waxing. Neither is Nikki, who’s her identical twin. Besides, they’re only thirteen.

 
“Our legs and arms need to be waxed. Look at the length of the hair.” Brendie lifts her arm up to my face to prove her point, but all I see is silky hair that’s barely visible, even at close range.

  “You are most definitely not getting waxed anywhere on your body. Not until you’re twenty one. Who gets their arms waxed anyway? Where do you get these ideas? It’s plain stupid and total waste of money.”

  “Who gets their arms waxed? Like, everyone,” Nikki says followed by a laugh.

  “Name one person and I’ll consider it.” I won’t consider anything, but no need to sound like a caveman.

  “Naomi, duh,” Brendie says.

  I freeze, although the woman with the full shopping cart has already crossed, and a car is waiting right behind us. Naomi is the one who put that bullshit into my sisters’ mind? Brendie’s unusual request for having a treadmill in her bedroom as her birthday present right after talking to Naomi about how a girl should be slim at all times was already annoying enough. My mother agreed to buy it only because she could get some exercise, too.

  That’s it with Naomi. If I had any reserves about not breaking up with her, they’ve totally vanished now. I’ll break up with her the first thing tomorrow.

  I press lightly on the gas pedal, turn left to a free spot, and kill the engine. “I’ve thought about it. Your arms and legs are just fine as they are. You’re not getting any waxing.”

  “You’re not our father,” both girls scream, which is my nightmare come true. It’s worse than having to listen to their nonsense talk. Their pitchy voices grate on my ears, so I climb out hastily to escape the torture.

  Right then, I catch a glimpse of some lovely, blonde curls flying with the wind, and I immediately recognize her. The girl from the café yesterday. She’s talking cheerily to a homeless man on the sidewalk, her eyes radiating rays of happiness onto everything they grace with their attention. And I find myself begging that she’d look at me too, infusing me with a piece of that happiness.

  A hope pops up inside me. She may be the one. The girl I’ve been looking for. The sexy girl who’ll tend to my needs. At this point, my only need is to be happy. Happy in her arms, having those beautiful eyes only for me. Not to forget those enormous breasts, too.

  “Thank you so much, God be with you,” I hear the homeless man saying and then see her walk away.

  Homeless people normally don’t grab my attention. They’re like part of the sidewalk to me, just like trees. I don’t look at the trees, either. Even if a homeless person does manage to grab my attention, more often than not, I choose to keep on ignoring them. Now, seeing her bring a wide smile to that poor man’s face, with just a little money and some cheerful words, makes me feel like the ultimate asshole. Grabbing my wallet, I pull out a twenty, drop it into the cup in the man’s hand, and stride behind the blonde girl, who managed to soften my selfish heart.

  Before I can catch her, she climbs into the same black Toyota and flees from me.

  Again!

  “Adam!” A loud shriek snaps me back to reality, and I turn to see my now-angry sisters staring at me with curious eyes. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? Mom will freak out if we get home late.”

  “Okay, okay. I’m coming.” I move back and grab a shopping cart on my way to the market. In a matter of minutes, we fill it with gallons of milk, cartons of eggs, wedges of cheese, and loaves of bread, which will probably last us only three days, four tops, since we’re a huge family of nine, ages from two to fifty-nine, all living under the same roof.

  I unload the items into the back of the car, while the girls examine each other’s arms. What’s this new obsession with hair? Who cares about some invisible hair on the arms, anyway?

  “Knock it off. You’re annoying the hell out of me,” I yell at them, as I round the car and climb in.

  “All the more reason to do it,” Nikki says and outstretches her arm in front of me, blocking my view. When did they stop being cute and start being irritating?

  As soon as we get home, I look for my mother to tell her about the waxing plans of the twins. She’s sometimes too easygoing with them. I have to make sure that she won’t fall for their tricks this time. She’s taking a bath, so I leave her alone and start carrying the paper bags into the kitchen.

  Eleanor, my other sister, who’s three years my junior, is chatting with a classmate of hers in the living room. I fail to remember her name, although she frequents our home every Friday and sometimes Saturday, too.

  “Say ‘hi’ to Jules,” Eleanor shouts at me from the living room, knowing all too well my weak memory as far as her friends concerned.

  “Hi, Jules, how are you doing?” I ask and start to pile the milk bottles into the fridge.

  Jules follows me into the kitchen, leaning back against the wall, placing her hands between the small of her back and the wall. Which makes her boobs appear bigger, but even so they’re too tiny for my taste.

  “I’m okay, I guess. How are you?” She flashes me a coquettish grin.

  I go about putting away the rest of the groceries, behaving as if I haven’t noticed she’s trying to make a move on me. Again. “A little tired. I’ll just lie down in the backyard and sleep or something.”

  “Don’t you have any plans for tonight? Why don’t you come with us?”

  “Over my dead body,” Eleanor yells. Yeah, I wouldn’t want to hang out with her and her creepy friends, either.

  “Don’t mind her. You’re always welcome to hang out with us,” Jules say.

  “No, thanks. I’m not fond of clubbing.” It’s not clubbing that I’m not fond of, it’s you.

  She doesn’t look as though she’ll give up. “We can do something else if you don’t like loud music. Just name it.”

  “I’m too tired to do anything now. Maybe next time.” How about never?

  “As you wish.” She looks disappointed, but she’ll be more disappointed if she actually makes a move on me and I turn her down. “Do you know when Dr. Garnett is arriving?”

  Dr. Garnett is my father, who is a renowned professor in Anthropology. And Eleanor and Jules, both being students in the same department, have two classes taught by him. I guess my father isn’t very happy with having one of his students come to his home almost regularly, but Eleanor doesn’t seem to care about his discomfort. Otherwise, why would she bring probably the most annoying girl in town to our home every Friday?

  “I don’t know,” I reply. “He’ll probably not come home before midnight. He has a lot to do at work, you know, writing papers, prepping classes, and all that nonsense.”

  Jules laughs. My phone chimes in my pocket, and I look at it to find a text from my mom.

  “I have five minutes before leaving. Come up now if you want to talk.”

  “Sorry, I gotta go,” I say before rushing out of the kitchen and up to my parent’s bedroom.

  Mom is dressed in a dark-green skirt suit and is busy putting on makeup.

  “Is Jules here again?” she asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll have to talk to Eleanor about it. Your father has stopped coming home on Fridays, and I think it has to do with Jules. It’s not ethical for a professor to befriend a student.”

  “You’re right. Talk to her. And while you’re at it, talk to the twins, too. They’re planning to get their arms waxed.”

  “Yeah, I heard about that.” She laughs heartily. Her face shines with beauty that’s impossible to look away from. “Honey, I’m sorry for what I’m about to say, but it’s your girlfriend who’s giving them those absurd ideas. I’m not telling you to stop seeing her or bringing her here. All I’m asking you to do is to ask her to be careful about what she’s saying to the girls. You know how impressionable they are.”

  “Yeah, I know. I should have been more careful. Actually, I’m planning on breaking up with her. Things aren’t working well between us. It’s about time I find the woman I’m going to marry.”

  My mother breaks into another laugh. “Just
don’t go around announcing it, or the girls will line up at our door just to have a chance to date you. You’re such a jewel, honey, so handsome and good-natured. I love you so much. I hope you’ll find the right one.”

  I smile at her, all the while thinking of the blonde hottie from In-N-Out.

  ***

  Jack coaxes me into spending my Saturday evening on a test screening of a movie that’ll actually be in theaters in two months or so. I don’t understand why he doesn’t just go watch the movies that are already in theaters, with clear ratings and reviews. He claims to enjoy the movies better when he doesn’t know anything about them, including the actors taking part.

  We got lucky only a couple of times out of maybe two dozen, and came across movies that were surprisingly great. But this one is one of the worst, really painful to watch.

  The story is inspired by the winner of some music/talent show and her experiences throughout the contest. I already despise any kind of talent shows and couldn’t care less about the winners. If I happen to like a song and later find out the singer was part of such a show, I’ll drop that song like a hot potato and forget that it ever existed. In addition to my intense dislike of the talent shows, this movie has a lot of behind-the-stage scenes that are full of girls’ shouting, swearing, and fighting. It’s worse than the slumber parties of Nikki and Brendie. At least, they’re not allowed to swear and fight.

  Hearing the ear-grating, high-pitched voices of the contestants, I wish I’d brought earplugs to ease the torment in my ears. We’re expected to write a review about the movie at the end. Mine will be brief and clear; “Turn down the volume completely.”

  The singing scenes are what is stopping me from freaking out and leaving the theater altogether. As much as they shout, each participant has some good-quality voice thrown in there and even some dancing talent that is entertaining enough to keep me watching.

  Then, near the end of the movie, something extraordinary and historical happens that has all the hair on my neck stand on end. With my mouth open wide enough to host a baseball, I gape at the beautiful girl on the screen, unable to believe my eyes. I run a quick review of my activities preceding the movie to make sure my perception isn’t under the influence of some kind of alcohol or drug. No alcohol, no drugs—I don’t do drugs anyway, but I haven’t had even medical drugs that can influence perception. Then, why am I seeing the sexy, blonde girl from In-N-Out now acting as the previous winner of a show in this crappy movie?