Lara and the City of Angels
Read Lara and the City of Angels Online
Authors: Elle Chardou
Lara & the City of Angels
Superstar Marriages
Elle Chardou
Lara & the City of Angels
Superstar Marriages
Copyright © 2012 Elle Chardou
All Rights Reserved.
Cover Artist:
Danielle Blanchard
Photographs:
Artur Kurjan
(
Copyright © 2012
www.depositphotos.com
)
ISBN:
978-1-4764-6730-6
Publisher: Midnight Engel Press
No part of this eBook may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Publisher’s Note:
This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.
Dedication
This novella is dedicated to my family, friends and the best people of all: my fans. Enjoy!
Chapter One
L
ara opened her eyes and tried to think about anything other than her failing marriage. She hoped to crawl out of bed before waking her husband but luck was not her side this morning.
She could hear his breath against her ear. He’d brushed his teeth as she could smell the strong scent of toothpaste and Listerine. It made her feel all the more inadequate with her morning breath, messy bed-head and a slight headache from one martini too many the night before. Sean had a habit of making her feel like she was never good enough and could always improve and be a better, more perfect human being no matter how hard she tried.
He wrapped a strong arm around her waist and pulled her against his hard body. The sensation of the friction between them electrified her and she thought for one moment maybe her dry spell would end. He would finally forgive her for what ever sin she’d committed and he would gladly take her because she was his wife and they loved one another.
If they could make it through this then their marriage would survive anything. Life hadn’t been easy for the past four years between them but she was confident all of that was about to change and the thought of him feeling the same way about her as she felt about him brought a sudden rush of color to her cheeks.
All the sudden, he shattered the fantasy when he pulled away; she turned to face him and found the handsome features of his face hardened and virtually unreadable. He stood on his knees and forced her into a submissive position before him, his erect manhood just several inches from her face.
“You
know
what I want,” he murmured.
Lara’s heart stopped pounding in her chest and once again, she realized the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. If her husband was capable of change then she wasn’t sure if she would be around to witness it because she wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take.
She knew what was expected of her and leaned toward him, opened her mouth and began the task at hand. That is all it was, a job she needed to finish before she would be free to shower and get ready for the day ahead of her.
If she stopped herself from thinking about the humiliation, she could get a lot done in her head. She had several places to go that day and there never seemed to be enough time in the day to accomplish everything she needed to do.
“Yeah, that’s it, babe, nice and slow.”
Lara tried to take as much of her husband’s manhood in her mouth as she could stand but then he began to pump and grabbed her by luxurious dark hair and curled it around his fist.
“Oh yeah, babe, I’m gonna come.”
He came into her mouth with the sticky, hot saltiness of him running down her throat. She had no time to spit it out because he was still lodged in her mouth. She choked his semen down and tried not to gag as he shoved her away, stood and headed to his personal bathroom.
Lara looked down at her gorgeous La Perla scarlet negligee he’d managed to tear in the process of getting his rocks off and for what? A morning blow job she hated to give more than anything in the world?
Who the hell said it was easy being married to a superstar was either deluded or seriously fucked in the head.
She knew her life was better than most as she was a MacIntyre and the name definitely meant something. Her grandfather had come from Scotland, penniless and made something of himself by opening up a franchise of eateries one step up from McDonald’s but a step down from Chili’s and TGI Fridays. He’d made a mint and now MacIntyre’s was a wholly respected and international chain of American fast food.
Her father had inherited the bulk of the wealth as it was just him and his sister. He’d married her mother, Genevieve Renoir, a French socialite, and Lara had been schooled and raised on both sides of the Atlantic. She was the youngest and had two older sisters.
Jenna lived on the opposite side of the Atlantic in France. Her husband was a renowned and extremely famous footballer, or what was known in the States as soccer.
Brittany resided in Las Vegas. Her husband was the owner of The City Hotel, Spa and Casino on the Strip, a five star hotel situated right next to The Cosmopolitan. Not only was he the son—considered a “lost boy” due to his habits of owning a casino, drinking and gambling—of one of the most powerful elder families of the Mormon church but he was also a billionaire at the age of just thirty-eight.
Her sister lived the whole lifestyle: the summer house in the Hamptons and the country estate in Connecticut. An ultra-chic mansion in Lake Las Vegas with a view more than worth its price tag; one perfect child who attended the exclusive private school. They belonged to all the exclusive golf clubs and were invited to all the best parties and get-togethers including New York Fashion week with spots next to Anna Wintour and P. Diddy.
Lara hadn’t done too shabby herself but then again, she and Brittany were considered the most striking MacIntyre sisters.
She possessed dark brown hair, intriguing green eyes and with a light olive complexion, Lara was blessed with her mother’s French beauty, a patrician nose, sculpted cheekbones and slightly full lips. She was of average height at 5’4” and one hundred and ten pounds.
If she didn’t think both her sisters’ had been dropped on their heads as children, she would never understand why they were so jealous of her. They assumed she lived the ultimate life style because her husband happened to be Sean Buchanan. The thirty-five year old actor was a superstar and legend in Hollywood. He had started acting when guys like Thomas Nordstrom, Leonardo DiCaprio, Rick Riordon, Ben DiMera et al had become huge names in the early part of the twenty-first century.
Like all of his peers, despite the changes in Hollywood over the past decade and the difficulty it took to get a movie made let alone financed and out to the move-going public, Sean could still guarantee a stellar opening weekend.
He was perfect, after all.
Sean possessed striking Irish looks though his hair was light brown with dirty blond highlights he wore on the longish side, Gabriel Aubry-style. He could make the ladies swoon with just a look from those gorgeous crystal blue eyes of his and he had all the charisma in the world. He sure had fooled her parents and if she were honest with herself, he’d fooled her too.
Lara couldn’t deal with the situation at the present and decided to get up, shower, dress and take their daughter, Auriel, to the beach. As they were located in Pacific Palisades, the ocean was their back yard, literally. She only worried about the paparazzi and how crazy they’d become lately to acquire photographs of celebrities and their children.
She was no one—a former runner-up contestant on
Stars Can Really Dance
and she’d appeared in the cable version of
Famous Wives of Los Angeles
—but despite her non-famous status, Auriel Buchanan was one of the most celebrated and top paid for photos of celebrity children; the paparazzi could be ferocious and she did everything in her power to protect her daughter but sometimes it wasn’t enough.
In hindsight, she really couldn’t blame them as five year old Auriel was a beauty. She possessed honey-colored hair with platinum highlights and startling blue-green eyes, creamy skin with just a hint of an olive tint, and like her father, she had more charisma than should be allowed.