Sweet Downfall
Authors: Eve Montelibano
COPYRIGHT
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
LOVE MATCH DIGITAL
A Division of
Lovematch/SD&M Publishing
Philippines 9500
SWEET DOWNFALL Copyright © 2015 by Eve Montelibano
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Cover designed by LM Digital
FOREWORD
Love is universal. It knows no bounds.
PROLOGUE
WAKING UP ON A BLOW JOB
was like getting hot-wired in his dream. Someone turned his engine on without his permission, hijacking his will. His body started running, the speed escalating way too soon, the sensations reaching his consciousness like a rushing flood.
Then he really woke up, on the verge of coming.
The feeling morphed and he was on a plane. Someone pushed him out into the void without a parachute and he was free-falling to his death. The end was waiting for him with open arms. He was plunging helplessly, the gravity, pulling him down hard and fast and he was powerless to stop it. There was no other way to go but surrender as he reached the point of inevitable. But it didn’t matter. He needed to die. It was the only way he could live.
He hit the ground hard, exploding into a million pieces. And then he was back in the sky, floating like snow flakes…melting away…dissolving into nothingness.
Eight seconds of death.
“Fffffffuck,” he sighed as his breathing returned to normal.
Surreal.
He opened his eyes to gaze into the blue eyes of a blond goddess.
Gwenna James, the babe who had figured in every horndog’s fantasy since she’d strutted her naked ass for a full minute as one of Leonardo DiCaprio’s mistresses on screen last year smiled at him, licking her fingers dripping with his cream.
He shook his head to activate his sluggish neurons. How in hell did she end up in his bed?
Hazy memories came back. He was already dozing off in his RV at dawn when he heard a knock at the door. Groggy, he opened it and there was Gwenna, the super-sexy supporting actress of his latest movie giving him a can-I-sleep-with-you-tonight look. It was more likely a can-I-fuck-you-tonight look but he was not inclined to read her body language.
He let her in and immediately went back to his bunk bed. The next thing he knew, he was lured back to reality by her impressive ‘lip service’, his entire length deep in her throat. Now THAT was more impressive as he was not short in that department.
He’d groaned in half-protest, his mind too tired but his body was instinctively responding to her expert ministrations. “Gwennie, I can’t…I’m beat…”
“Shhh, just lie back and relax, darling. I’m doing this for myself. I missed you. Mmm, you have the most gorgeous cock, Jaq Montero. I so love this big, bad, angry wolf.” She giggled.
Sweet Jeez, who was he to complain? His dick sure wasn’t. He flopped back on the pillows and let her have his way with him. After blasting his load in her sweet mouth, he went back to snoring. He was a selfish bastard but she came uninvited and he really didn’t have the energy to romantically indulge any woman at the moment.
His full concentration was on his movie. It was huge. DreamWorks put in a 150-million dollar budget. Expectations were high. The studio was projecting it to earn double than his last movie.
As it was, he was pressed for time to meet the première date. One of the big bosses in LA called him yesterday to remind him he had to wrap up his Asian location shoots within two months and proceed to pre-production. Like he would forget.
Bam-bam-bam!
The RV’s door vibrated, sending shock waves straight to his skull. A blow job waking him up was always preferable to that racket unceremoniously rousing him from the dead like a bomb blast. He had wrapped up one difficult scene last night at way past midnight and he didn’t appreciate such an early disturbance. Whoever was outside would get an early demise.
He covered his head with a big pillow and ignored the door but the fuckwit had a death wish. Who could it be? No one who valued his job would dare break his few rules on set. They were all fucking sacrosanct! Rule number one: never wake him up before the time plastered on the door unless it was a life and death situation.
“You’d better get that,” Gwenna mumbled lazily.
Swearing under his breath, he got off the bed and walked toward the door.
“Might be paparazzi eager to get a pic of your morning glory,” Gwenna reminded him. “It will sell every tabloid, I bet.”
Swearing again, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his hips. He opened the door with a scowl. “This had better be good!” he snarled.
Joey, his cousin, a 26-year old dyke was the fuckwit. She was his Personal Assistant. His PA must be a female because generally, women were efficient and detail-oriented, BUT she had to be a butch.
“Uhm, cuz…” Joey started, scratching her nape.
Joey was a real piece of work. She had more tattoos than an ex-con. He used to have sexy PAs but they all ended up infatuated with him, which was bad for business. A man would normally not decline a free-fuck offer, but after the action, it suddenly wasn’t free anymore. They’d start making demands. He wasn’t the ‘together forever’ type of guy and to be fair, he would always emphasize that before hooking up with a woman. They all shrugged it off, but they all sang the love songs afterward when the deal was only hard, fast rock ‘n roll.
He complained about this to his publicist Lulu and she shared some interesting tidbits about women psychology. According to pseudo-shrink Lulu, a lot of women had the Sleeping Beauty Syndrome AKA ‘Prince will be awakened from commitment phobia by deep, pure love’. Well, he had no problem with a babe lovingly waking up his ‘Sleeping Beauty’ but really, a man could shoot his load several times in a woman’s generous orifices without disturbing his cardiovascular system. Unfortunately, women had this gross misconception that since he was an artist and he made highly charged music and high-octane movies, he was an emo guy, too.
Wrong. The only thing that responded to a woman in his anatomy was his jack-in-the-box. So now, he had a hard-core lezbo for a PA. No complications since. They both preferred chicks and even went to strip clubs together. But he got sidetracked. “What is it?” he demanded again.
“Sorry, cuz, but it’s an emergency,” Joey said, her face serious.
“Not with the cameras or the crew, I hope?”
“Nah.”
“Is anybody hurt? The cast?”
“Worse.”
Now, he was concerned. “Someone died?”
Joey smirked. “Maybe it would be you.”
His scowl was back. “Joey, I have one hour before shoot starts. Don’t fucking waste it.”
Joey took out her hand from behind her and slammed several tabloids on his chest.
He immediately grabbed them by one fist.
“You’re headline, dude. Enjoy,” she said and turned around.
He heard her snicker as she hurried away.
Puzzled, he looked at one of the tabloids.
The headline made him freeze.
EXPOSED! CELEBRITY SEX VIDEO!!!
Everything in him and around him seemed to stop moving except for the sudden, heavy slamming of his heart. He stared in shock at the photograph that dominated the front page of the most popular tabloid in this country.
It was an old photograph of him and a woman. He recognized the still shot right away.
The woman was Angelina Yulo, eldest daughter of hotel magnate Manolo Yulo. She was also the fiancée of media and advertising mogul Jordan Lavega.
Angie.
His first love.
PAST
EIGHT YEARS AGO
DESTINY
JAQ WAS DESPERATE.
He was head over heels in love. But his girlfriend was pledged to marry another guy. Not HIM. A guy who belonged in their social class. Elite. Blue blood. Aristocracy. Rich as Croesus.
Everything that he was not.
He was a by-blow. Bred by a sexy star turned serious theater actress and adopted by her action superstar husband. His blood ran with showbiz fuel, red as the controversies and scandals that used to headline the tabloids making money out of his famous celebrity parents. The only claim to greatness he had so far was being the lead guitarist of the hottest rock band in the country today.
But he loved her. She loved him. They belonged together.
So, what was he to do when her folks were trying all their damnedest to break them up?
Kidnap her.
Yes, that was exactly what he did.
He drove them out of there.
Jaq’s gut was still churning with anger and fear of getting caught but his nerves had calmed down considerably. Angie was with him now. Not with Jordan.
He still couldn’t speak. He wanted to rant at her for making a big fool out of him but he reined in his temper. His need to take Angie away from Jordan was more important than his injured ego.
She’d been so quiet, too while he navigated the vehicle at a speed short of violating high traffic limit.
“J-jaq…” she started.
He didn’t answer.