Pure Passion
Authors: M. T. Stone,Megan Hershenson
----------------
M.T. Stone
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Pure Passion
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons,
living or dead is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by M.T. Stone. All rights reserved,
including the right to reproduce, distribute or transmit in any form or by any
means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the
publisher.
Steamy Nights Publishing
www.SteamyNightsPublishing.com
First Edition June 18, 2013
This book is dedicated to all my fans who made my first book
My Nights With Kate a success. I love you and thank you for your support!
Also, I want to give special thanks to Megan Hershenson for all
of the help and inspiration. If you need a great editor to work with, you can
reach her at:
[email protected]
Table of Contents
Celeste
As he thrust into me, hitting that magical spot, I began to
sense the weight of my head as it slid off the side of the bed. Extending my
arms to halt my descent, I simply wanted to hang upside down while Max
continued his assault on my insides. Arching his back and gripping the edge of
the mattress, his intentions were clear. He was determined to use that perfect
cock of his to drive me mad slowly. The head rush, combined with the fire
building between my thighs, made me even crazier.
God, he is good at this!
“Oh, shit!” I heard from above me.
We suddenly continued our slide off the bed as he, too, lost
his grip. Reaching out in a failed attempt to break our fall, we hit the floor
with a dull thud. We both giggled as he repositioned between my thighs.
Without missing a beat, he grabbed me by the wrists and pinned my arms over my
head. His dick felt even harder than before as he resumed his passionate
advance. As I looked up at his heaving chest, a wave of pleasure washed over
me. The intensity with which he was stroking me began to overwhelm my senses.
I pushed my head forward to give him a hickey, but he wouldn’t let me. He
arched his back and pulled away from me while he increased the intensity once
again.
“Oh my god!” I screamed out, as he hit my G-spot over and
over again.
A wide grin came across Max’ lips as he looked down at me
with that devilish look in his eyes. He tightened his grip on my wrists and began
rhythmically assaulting my tender flesh.
Damn, that feels so good! I don’t
know how much more I can take!
The quiet storm that had been building
below suddenly took on the intensity of a raging hurricane. I could feel my
toes flex as my legs began to shake.
Oh my god, this is heaven!
He looked down at me with nothing but lust in his eyes as he
continued to deliver one glorious stroke after another. He released my wrists,
and his lips crashed into mine just as I reached a beautiful climax, his mouth
capturing my blissful moans before they had a chance to escape. Our sweaty
faces smashed against one another in a rage of overwhelming passion as he took
the last few strokes that led to his own release. Collapsing by my side, he
slid his arm over me, kissed me softly, and gave me that look of satisfaction I
had seen so many times before.
“I’ve missed that.”
“I can tell. You were a little wild tonight,” he replied,
with a smirk. “In a couple of months, I won’t have to travel as much.”
“Why? Are sales finally starting to take off?”
“Well, not really, but there won’t be any more trade shows
until fall.”
“That’s actually a bad thing isn’t it?”
“It’s fine. After the last couple of summers, I know how to
keep my expenses pretty lean. I’m starting to make a name for myself, but it
takes time.”
Great. That means more pasta and cheap wine on Friday
nights. If only he were as talented at business as he is in the sack. Then he
would be the perfect man.
“Why don’t you just make up with your dad? You know he
would help you out.”
Without uttering a word, Max got up and started getting
dressed.
“I’m sorry, but seriously, aren’t you two ever going to talk
this out?”
“Not until I go back and finish law school, and I have no
intention of doing that.”
“What’s so bad about being a lawyer? At least then you
wouldn’t be struggling to make it month to month.”
“Wow, have you two been talking? You sound just like him.
Maybe one day I’ll come to my senses and make both of you proud. Until then,
I’m going to foolishly follow my passion,” he snapped back in a sarcastic tone.
With that, Max threw on his shirt and headed toward the
door.
Obviously bringing up his father was a serious afterglow killer.
“Seriously? You’re leaving?”
“Yeah, I need to go back to the workshop and work on a few
things.”
He may be tall, dark, and handsome, but I really hate this
part about him. I try to point out an obvious solution to his problems, and he
gets mad and walks away. Stubborn bastard!
~~~
Max
I love Celeste, but she drives me crazy sometimes.
We met in high school and have been together ever since.
The moment we met, I knew I had found my dream girl, and we quickly became
inseparable. Her gorgeous hazel-blue eyes, long blond hair, and killer body
literally rocked my world. Friends teased us about being Ken and Barbie. However,
she had way better curves than Barbie did, and Ken was never ripped with
washboard abs like me… Besides, Ken always looked like a prissy schmuck,
something no one had ever accused me of being.
After high school, she had her heart set on studying
cosmetology at the Aveda Institute, and I majored in criminal justice at
Florida State. The two schools were just over two miles apart, so again it
seemed like destiny.
In fact, I don’t even remember us having a fight in
those early years
.
Things began to change after my first year of law school
when Mom was diagnosed with stage-four ovarian cancer. I spent most of that
summer playing chauffeur, taking her back and forth to chemo and clinic
appointments. Mom began talking to me about the future and encouraged me to
follow my passion in life instead of simply adopting my father’s profession.
She knew what it was like to live someone else’s dream, as she had given up her
interior design career when she became pregnant with my older sister Natalie.
By the time Natalie and I were in high school, our father made partner at the
firm and expected Mom to be at his side for all the various functions. She
never got the chance to go back and pursue her passions. At age 52, she found
herself fighting for her life and regretting all of the things she hadn’t done.
She never came out and said it, but she knew becoming an
attorney wasn’t my passion. As a young kid, I had spent almost every free
afternoon over at my grandparents’ house working on custom guitars with my
granddad. It was amazing to watch him turn pieces of wood into gorgeous
electric guitars. Granddad was pretty famous, having worked with Leo Fender in
the early days before going out on his own. His guitars were played by some of
the most famous guitarists of the '70s and '80s, which he considered the Golden
Age of the electric guitar. When he died during my sophomore year of college,
he left all his guitar building equipment to my mother, who in turn, gave it to
me. Even though I don’t share my famous grandfather’s last name, I vowed to
carry on his brand. My father, however, killed that idea.
My father came from a long line of attorneys, dating back to
his great-grandfather who was an English Barrister. He was determined that his
only son would join him at the firm. Since he was paying my way through college,
I relented and continued at Florida State. Mom passed away during semester
break my second year of law school. After that, my focus and grades began to
slide. The ultimatum came the day Dad found my transcript following spring
semester. The message was plain and simple: get A's, or he would cut off my
financial support. Considering I was 24-years-old, I couldn’t really blame
him, but I spent that summer having a serious debate with myself.
Back then, when I talked to Celeste about following my
passion, she actually encouraged me. After all, cosmetology was all she wanted
to do. She had absolutely no interest in attending a university either. In hindsight,
she may have liked the idea of me being a rich and powerful attorney like my
father. We always lived in a large house, took her with us on great family
vacations, and drove expensive cars. Back then, I couldn’t have imagined
driving anything other than a BMW. In fact, if I went to visit Dad like
Celeste wanted, he would be embarrassed if I parked my five-year-old Saturn Sky
in the front driveway. Selling my BMW M6 to fund the guitar business was the
ultimate insult to him, especially since he had given it to me the day I
graduated from Florida State. It wasn’t enough that I betrayed my family
bloodline, but I had also gone to the
dark side
, working with
musicians. Not only did my father detest long hair and rock concerts, he even
refused to try to listen to anything other than classical music.
What a
pompous ass!
As I unlocked the door to my workshop, I couldn’t help but
think about how much Celeste had changed the past few months. She knew that it
was going to take time to prove I was worthy of carrying on my grandfather’s
line, the famous Maxwell Keegan electric guitars. Even if it took ten years or
more, I would consider it an honor to perpetuate his legacy. Even though I was
building guitars that were technically superior to most, it was going to take
time to convince anyone with a top-tier rock band to take a chance. Several
second tier guitarists were playing my guitars, but I just hadn’t gotten my big
break yet.
If I keep at it though, my day will come. If nothing else, it’s
been a blast getting to know all these musicians. Most of them are crazy,
especially lead guitarists!
Grabbing my cell phone, which I had forgotten at the
workshop again, I saw that I had a voicemail. The message was from my only
sales rep Charlie, and he had good news. Serpent 6, whose lead guitarist Tommy
Lock played one of mine, was opening for Metallica in Miami on Saturday.
Charlie had already talked to Kirk, Metallica’s lead, about checking out the
guitar that Tommy would be playing. He also wanted me to come to the concert
so I could meet Kirk in-person after the show.
Wow, this could be a huge
break!
Saturday Morning
Celeste
“For the last time, Max, I can’t get off early to go with you to Miami. I’m
booked all the way through to 5:00 p.m., and it’s over a six-hour drive to
Miami.”
“Hey, but you’d get to meet the guys from Metallica.”
“Metallica? Wow. If it were OneRepublic, I’d think about
it, but Metallica? Really?” I countered, with a healthy bit of sarcasm in my
voice.
“Whatever, Celeste. This could be a huge break for me, and
I’d like you to be there.”
“Sorry, but I can’t afford to cancel on these clients. It’s
not like we have anything extra in the bank, Max.”
“Ok, Celeste, I get your point. I’m not rolling in dough
like my old man. I’ll probably just crash at Charlie’s after the concert.”
“Good idea. Give me a call if you decide to come back
instead.”
I can’t believe he was trying to guilt me into missing
work. As if I would cancel $350 worth of business to go to a Metallica concert.
I swear to god he’s losing it.
Max
I know she’s not a Metallica fan, but she could be a
little supportive. It’s not every day I get to show off my line to rock
legends like these guys. Oh well, screw her.
I headed out for Miami a little early to make sure I wasn’t
caught in traffic. It was a gorgeous day so I put the top down and pretended I
was driving my M6. The illusion worked as long as I didn’t slam on the gas.
About two and a half hours into the trip, I got a call from Charlie. My pulse
quickened as I picked up the phone. My gut told me it was bad news.
“Got bad news for you, bud,” Charlie confirmed.
“What’s that?”
“The lead singer for Serpent 6 woke up with a sore throat,
and they’ve been pulled for tonight.”
“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.”
“Wish I was, bud. Without Tommy playing the gig, you might
as well save the trip.”
He was right. Even though we still could’ve gotten back to
see Kirk, it would most likely be a waste of time. I turned the car around and
headed back toward home, it was almost 3:00 p.m.
I have no fucking luck! Just
hit me with a lightning bolt and put me out of my misery. I’m not even going
to mention this to Celeste. It’ll just give her more ammunition.
It was 5:45 p.m. when I pulled up to The Deuce, one of my favorite
hangouts. The owner was not only a great chef, but also the lead vocalist for
a local rock band, so it was the perfect place in my book. One of my old high
school buddies bartended there as well, so if I didn’t know anyone I could sit
at the bar and bullshit with him. Between trying to get my business going and
keeping Celeste happy, I hadn’t had much time for any of my other friends for
several months.
“Hey, stranger. What can I get you?” Derek asked, as I
pulled up a stool.
“A cheeseburger, fries, and a Crown on the rocks,” I
replied.
“Startin’ off with straight Crown, huh? You havin’ a rough
day?”
“Yeah. Kirk from Metallica was going to be introduced to my
guitars tonight, but the gig fell through.”
“Sorry, bud. You’re still workin’ on the big dream, huh?”
“You know me. I don’t give up very easily.”
Derek gave me a knowing smile as he turned to put in my order
and pour my whiskey. He had known me as long as anyone, so he understood that
I would see an idea through to the end. As I began to sip my whiskey, I
thought back to how easy things were back in our high school days. I always
had plenty of cash, new sports cars, and a lot of friends.
Oh, how the
mighty have fallen…. almost 26-years-old and I’ve never been so broke in my
life. If things get much worse, I’ll have to go patch things up with dad and
convince him to help me finish law school. Who am I kidding? I would have to
be starving and living on the street…
“Do you remember Lara?” Derek asked, nodding toward a woman
who had just walked in.
“I don’t think so,” I replied, as she continued in our
direction.
“Hi, Derek. Well, hello, Max,” she said, with a sparkle in
her big brown eyes.
“Hi, Lara,” I replied with a wink, pretending to remember
her.
“Wow, you actually remember my name, or did Derek remind
you?”
“Oh, of course I remember you,” I replied, lying through my
teeth. I didn’t want to insult her by being honest.
“Well, it’s nice to see you again after all these years,”
she said, giving me a coy smile before turning to meet her friends at a table.
“Who was that? She seems a little familiar.”
“She was a few years younger than us. She was best friends
with my sister,” Derek explained.
“Oh, now I remember her. Wow, I never would’ve put that
together. She’d be really cute if she ditched those glasses and let her hair
down a little.”
“Yeah, Lara’s gotten that way. It’s like she’s hiding or
something.”
“That’s for sure. Those glasses are like the ones my
grandma wore in the '70s.”
“The '70s are back in style, you know. Especially when it
comes to glasses.”
“Lord knows why,” I replied and glanced back at Lara and her
friends.
I couldn't remember if Lara was cute or not back then. I
guess she was pretty young, and I never really paid much attention to other
girls once I started dating Celeste. Maybe she was one of those girls who got
prettier with age.
With a full stomach and a few Crowns onboard, I decided it
was time to get home before I couldn’t drive myself. The way my luck had been,
I didn’t want to take a chance of being pulled over for DUI. As I
s
earched
for my keys, I saw Lara sitting alone at the table so I stopped to say goodbye.
“Hey, Lara! Nice seeing you again. Maybe I’ll see you
around.”
“Yeah, Max, I’m usually around.”
“Honestly, I don’t remember the last time I saw you. Where
did your friends go?”
“Oh, this is normal. I babysit their purses while they
dance, and later I’ll make sure they all get home safely,” she said, rolling
her eyes. “I’m more their designated driver than friend, I guess.”
“That sounds like fun,” I replied with a raised eyebrow,
pulling up a chair.
“It beats sitting home on a Saturday night. It’s not like I
had anything else going on.”
“A pretty girl like you, bored on a Saturday night?” I said
as I gave her a cocky smirk.
“There’s that smirk. Now that’s the Max Hancock I
remember!”
“Well, I’m not the cocky punk I used to be. After the last
few years, I’m actually feeling mostly jaded and irritable.”
“Really? Why?” she asked, actually showing interest in my
life.
“Well, things have been a little rough since I dropped out
of law school to revive my Granddad’s guitar business.”
“Seriously? I just assumed you were a hot shot attorney,
working at your father’s firm.”
“No. That was the plan until Mom died. After that, Dad and
I had a falling out.”
“Sorry to hear that, Max. Sorry about your mom, too. She
was a nice lady.”
“Yeah, she was great. My piece-of-shit dad drove her to an
early grave
.”
If only Mom would’ve outlived Dad. My life would be so
much different.
“Who’s the hottie, Lara?” one of her friends asked as they
suddenly converged on us.
Lara proceeded to introduce me to her friends, who looked
like a bunch of plastics. I knew the type: nipped, tucked, and all made up,
pretending they could be Victoria’s Secret models. They swarmed like pesky little
mosquitoes, vying for my attention. One of the girls grabbed my arm and told me
we had to dance because her favorite song was playing. I glanced over at Lara,
who by now had withdrawn from the conversation.
“No, if I dance, it will be with Lara,” I said without any
attempt at being subtle.
“Lara? Lara doesn’t dance, silly,” she replied, laughing
hysterically.
“Well, I don’t usually dance either,” I said, standing up to
make my exit. I turned my back to the others to focus directly on Lara. “It
was nice to see you again.”
“You too, Max.” She replied, making eye contact with me
again. I could tell she was uncomfortable with her friends looking on.
As she stood up to give me a hug, something came over me. I
took her in my arms and gave her a rather intense kiss on the lips. As the
other girls whooped and hollered, Lara and I just stood there for a moment
staring at each other, both in disbelief of what had just happened. Even more
surprising was the fact that I actually started getting hard. I never would’ve
expected that reaction, and I had to wonder if it was just because I hadn’t
kissed anyone other than Celeste in such a long time.
“I better go.”
I gave her a quick head nod.
“Good idea. Take care, Max.”
She gave me that shy smile, and I couldn't help but think
that she has no reason to be shy . As I turned and walked away, I could hear
her friends erupt once again, wanting to know who I was and how Lara knew me.
I had to laugh, thinking I had probably just made Lara’s night. Truth be told,
she had made mine, as well. By the time I reached the car though, my thoughts
had turned back to Celeste. I hoped she would be in a good mood because she
was obviously going to know things didn’t work out with Metallica. Looking at
my watch confirmed that the concert wasn’t even half over.
Just cut me some
slack, Celeste!
~~~
Attempting to pull into my spot, I was cut short. Some
bastard parked his Mercedes convertible in my damn spot!
The sign right in
front of the spot says, “tenant parking only” for fuck sake. Now I’m going to
have to park out on the goddamn street. I should accidentally run my keys
along the side of that over- priced piece-of-shit.
By the time I found a spot and walked back to the building,
I had regained control of my temper. I chuckled to myself, as I thought about
how angry the minor incident had made me.
I need to learn to deal with
stress better. Maybe I should have hit the gym instead of the bar.
Turning my key in the lock, I grabbed the handle and pushed
my shoulder into the door only to be greeted by a thud.
Shit, Celeste has
the dead bolt locked. She’s so paranoid when she’s home alone.
I rang the
bell and called out to her, “Celeste, come unlock the door!” I rang the bell
again and pounded on the door with my fist. Standing there in utter silence,
my mind began jumping to conclusions.
Why is the deadbolt locked? Where is
Celeste? Has something happened to her? Is someone in there with her? Is it the
person who owns the Mercedes?
I pulled my phone out and called her. I could hear her
phone ringing on the table inside.
She’s home, she never goes anywhere
without her phone.
“Celeste, are you OK?” I yelled, while pounding my fist to
the door once again.
After a few seconds, I heard scuffling, followed by the
sliding of the deadbolt.
“Why are you home so early? I thought you were going to call
if you decided not to crash with Charlie?” she asked as she cracked open the
door.
Really, Celeste, could you act more suspicious?
“Why
was the deadbolt locked?”
“I was in the shower; you know how paranoid I am. Your
pounding on the door scared the shit out of me!”
“If you were in the shower, why isn’t your hair wet?”
Taking
a dry shower?
“I was just getting in,” she replied, as she stopped by the
hallway closet to grab a fresh towel.
Fucking liar!
A vehicle started and headlights flashed by the window.
Looking outside I saw that my parking spot was now vacant. I took out a piece
of paper, grabbed a pen and wrote down a random series of letters and numbers:
JMH 497.
While Celeste showered, I looked around the apartment for
clues. Our bed was messy, which was usually the case. There were two wine
glasses on the counter and I could smell the scent of cologne that seemed
familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. I walked over to the bed, checking
the sheets for the same smell, confirming my suspicions. The fact that our
bedroom window was unlocked sealed the deal.
Son of a bitch!
“I ask for a big break, and this is what I get?” I asked out
loud, looking up at the ceiling, raising my fists as if someone will answer.
Nine
years we’ve been together, and other than a couple of kisses, I’ve never even
considered cheating on her. I don’t even remember life without Celeste.
When the shower stopped, I grabbed a seat at the end of the couch and waited.
It seemed like I sat there forever while she stalled as long as possible.
“Who was in the Mercedes?” I asked calmly as she finally
emerged.
“What Mercedes?” she asked, hurrying past me and into the
bedroom.
Seriously, she can’t think I am that fucking stupid!
“The one that was parked in my spot. Who does it belong
to?”
I could feel my anger beginning to rise and my voice
hardening. I rarely raised my voice with Celeste, so she knew I meant business.
After sitting there for a few seconds waiting for a response, I joined her in
the bedroom. I could feel my jaw clenching, but tried to remain as calm as
possible.
I don’t want to lose my cool until I find out what’s going on.
“I wrote down the license plate, Celeste. My trooper buddy
Jerry will run the plates for me on Monday. You might as well tell me who was
here.”
Let’s see if she takes the bait.
Celeste stood there silently running a brush through her
hair, acting as if she hadn’t heard a word. After repeating my request for the
vehicle owner’s name, her shoulders and head began to shake. For the second
time that day, my gut told me I didn’t want to hear the answer.
