Chasing Vivi(64)

"She tried to give me blowjobs all the time and I never let her."

Vivi stops and touches my elbow. "I'm glad you cleared that up for me." Then she kisses the corner of my mouth.

She takes my hand and we start walking again.

"I thought you should know."

She shakes her head and laughs. "At least you had discerning taste back then."

"I don't know about that. But she blew every guy and I think most of the teachers back then. She was actually pretty gross."

"Don't I know it. I caught her in the act a couple of times. That's where I got her name from."

The rest of the night we hang out with our friends, and most of the mean  girls ogle Vivi. I'm sure they're envious because she's hands down the  most gorgeous woman in the room.

Harrison comes stumbling over to the group and announces that Felicia wanted to know if he wanted a blowjob.

"She's still doing that?" Weston asks. "I guess some things never change."

"True, but others change for the better." I hold up my glass and say,  "Here's to the better things in life. And may there be many more in our  futures."

Later that night, when we're back in our hotel room, I look at my  beautiful wife and say, "You've made me the happiest man alive. I thank  God for that day I saw you and burned with a vivid desire. You made  every single minute of chasing Vivi worth it."

She doesn't answer me with words, only with her hands, her mouth, and the rest of her body.

The End



Thank you for taking the time out of your busy life to read Chasing  Vivi. I hope you enjoyed the book. If so, I would be extremely grateful  if you would consider leaving a review wherever you purchased this book.  Thank you very much!         

     



 

*If you want to get the back story on Special and Weston, you might want  to check out A Special Obsession if you haven't already done so.





A Sneak Peek from Craving Midnight





To Be Released 11/2017





*This is raw, unedited, and subject to change



Chapter One

Harrison



As soon as the phone rings, I'm wide awake, pulled out of the coma-like sleep I was in.

"Kirkland," I answer, heading for the bathroom. Any time I get a call at 2 a.m., it means I'm going to work.

"Harrison, it's Wyatt. We have an issue."

"Who?"

"Midnight Drake."

Midnight Drake is the sultry actress who recently signed a multi-million  dollar contract with Alta Pictures. "Didn't we get things ironed out  for her recently?" I ask.

"Yeah. She was caught driving with an open container."

"Hmm. What is it this time?"

"Pack a bag, boss. You're flying to Manhattan. Wheels up in one hour."

"Fuck. That bad?" I ask around my toothbrush.

"Yep."

"Okay. I'll call you from the plane and you can debrief then."

In less than thirty minutes, I'm on my way to the airport, taking the  backroads from my Malibu home. At this hour, traffic poses no problem.  When I arrive, I drive straight to the entrance for private jets, and  follow the road around, after going through the designated security  checkpoints. I park, and my assistant is there, along with the pilot.  Wyatt has assembled the team and they're boarding the jet as I do.

"Good morning everyone. Pete," I say, greeting our pilot. "Where's Tom?"

"He'll be here in a minute."

"Good. Do we have coffee yet?" I ask.

A flight attendant pops his head out from the back and says, "We will in a moment, along with some breakfast."

"Oh, hi Mike. Didn't see you back there."

"Morning, Mr. Kirkland."

Everyone takes a seat and I call Wyatt. "I want deets."

"Am I on speaker?"

"Yep."

And he begins, "Midnight Drake woke up in a hotel room about a little  over an hour ago, naked, alone but with a shit ton of sex toys and three  videos. Apparently while she was pumped full of heroin, a shit load of  kinky fuckery went down, and the videos went flying over the internet.  Her agent called and it is one freak show."

"Kinky fuckery, huh? Care to elaborate?" I ask.

"I'm hitting you with the videos now. But they include anal, butt plugs,  whips, cuffs, flogging, a spreader bar, nipple clamps, labia clamps.  Let's just say Midnight was on full display."

"Fuck."

"Exactly," Wyatt says. Alta is already saying they're dumping her.

"What is she saying?" I ask.

"She was drugged."

"Clearly."

"She says she remembers nothing."

"Did you watch the videos?"

"Yeah, and she's out of it. Unresponsive in the first one. Then the  second she's a little bit there. The third, she's so fucked up she  wouldn't care if someone cut off her head. I shit you not."

"Sounds like someone spiked her drink. Stupid or naive girl. Okay. Has  our New York team found her bedmates? And have you pulled the videos?"

"Yes to the videos and working on the bedmates. Everything was sent from a cell phone."

"Track the fuckers. You know what to do. Where is Midnight now?"

"At the hotel with one of our team. She's totally freaked."

"Right. Wouldn't you be?"

Wyatt chuckles. "I'd be getting the fuck out of town."

Suddenly I'm pissed at those ass wipes. They're like those leeches or  computer hackers, out to destroy lives, all for what? A good fuck? Or  because they don't have anything better to do. "Wyatt, did they demand  any money from her?"

"Not that I am aware."

"Let's find them and I don't care what it takes."

That gets the attention of everyone sitting close to me. Heads perk up,  bodies stiffen, eyes open wider. They know when I'm pissed and mean  business and this just hit me the wrong fucking way.

Pete pokes his head out of the cockpit and tells us we're ready to taxi.  We should be cleared for takeoff momentarily, since it's now 3 a.m.

"Buckle up, Buttercups. We've got serious work ahead of us. You know I  ask a lot of you and I'm sorry for the early hour, but I also compensate  you well. You'll be given an extra bonus if we nail these fuckers. By  the way, this one stays under the radar."

The jet taxis toward the runway and we're soon taking off into the dark  sky. It won't be long before we fly into the sun. The team starts making  calls. I have one man in particular I want to contact so I make the  call.         

     



 

"Mr. Kirkland. Are you in New York already?"

"Not yet, Rashid, but I'm enroute. I need you to do something for me." I explain the situation and tell him exactly what I need.

"The videos I've already taken care of. They have been removed. But it may take a day for me to locate the phones."

The tension flows out of me somewhat. "Thanks, Rashid. I'm glad Wyatt  got in touch with you. We'll be staying at The Plaza if you can't get in  touch with me by phone."

"Certainly, Mr. Kirkland."

As soon at Pete says we've cleared ten thousand feet, Mike shows up with  coffee and breakfast. Emily smiles her gratitude. So do I. She is a  grouch when she's hungry and her brain is not worth a shit. Leland  declines the food but asks Mike to come back in five with a coffee  refill. I ask for an extra breakfast, while Misha, who appears meek,  nods her thanks, but everyone knows she's the most vicious attorney in  the country.

This is a top notch team on this jet. If we were to crash, the entire  Hollywood entertainment industry would be in a fucking jam because there  would be no one worth a shit to fix their fuck-ups. Usually I don't  have these emotionally charged feelings, but Midnight Drake has had more  than her share of hard knocks. In a way, she reminds me of my friends,  Prescott and Weston. Every time she gets knocked to the ground, she pops  back up with her fists raised and clenched, ready to fight whoever's  trying to push her down. Whoever did this to her will pay. I'll see to  it.

My phone beeps and I see it's a text from Wyatt. I open it up and it's  all the videos. Holy mother fucker. These are worse than hardcore porn.

"Gather round kids. We are on DEFCON 1." Then I press play. The women  are affected the worst. And these ladies are tough as nails. But I want  them pissed as hell and the goal has been accomplished.

Misha nearly flies out of her seat and starts swearing. "Mother fuckers  are going down. Harrison, I want to personally cut their balls off. Look  at her. Just look at her. She's fucking unconscious. She doesn't even  know where she is. That is disgusting."

Emily takes over where Misha leaves off. "They should be castrated.  Anyone who does that to a woman doesn't have the right to a dick or  balls. What slimy assholes. And how can that other woman participate?  When can I get my hands on their dicks to personally rip them from their  bodies."

"Okay, ladies, let's control ourselves here. We need our best brain-power and I won't have that if you're angry. Calm down."

After the smoke no longer billows out of their nostrils and they've  settled back down, I explain what Rashad said. "You both know he's like a  bloodhound when I put him on a task. He'll find their phones and when  he does, we'll have one of the guys bring them in. We'll  …  handle them  appropriately."