Carlos E-Book

L.J. Diva

• Herausgeber: Royal Star Publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: The Porn Star Brothers Series
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 213

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

This series is dedicated to…

Jackie Collins is the biggest inspiration in my life when it comes to writing, if not the only inspiration. She had the passion; the brains, the ballsy rollicking attitude, and the kind of life that made me want to be her.

And to the three Stefanovic brothers, Carlos, Pedro, and Tomas, without whom I would not have had names for my porn stars.

In the tradition of the bonkbustingly good Jackie Collins comes L.J. Diva’s Porn Star Brothers series.

Follow the meteoric rise of '70s Porn Star, Carlo Stefan, and the rocky path he took to find the life and love he craved in the Porn Star Brothers series.

Carlos Stephanopoulos is the eldest of three brothers. Australian born and Greek Island raised, he loves women, sex, and money, and not necessarily in that order.

He lives the good life, screwing women of all ages morning, noon and night until one night the good life comes to a screeching halt.

On the run with only a suitcase and money, he winds up in Hollywood working in porn movies, with a new name and new look, only to become the biggest porn star around. But the drama follows him wherever he goes, from stalkers to his girlfriend being drugged and killed, to two dramatic kidnappings.

And it all comes down to one person…

One person who’s out to end the life of Carlos Stephanopoulos…

Carlos is the first novella in the Porn Star Brothers contemporary romance series featuring the sizzlingly sexy elder Greek Australian bad boy brother.

If you like family sagas, heartfelt romances and dancing to ’70s disco, then you’ll love the first instalment in L.J. Diva’s page-turning series.

Unlock The Porn Star Brothers Series to start the romance today!

***If you think the story ends abruptly, or without a conclusion, that’s because part 4 of the Porn Star Brothers series, Retribution, is the conclusion to all three Porn Star Brothers books.

**** In order of reading – Carlos, Pedro, Tomas, Retribution (or the Porn Star Brothers box set or collector’s edition paperback novel), Forever, Love Never Dies, Stefan: The New Generation, DeLuca, Spiros & Jenny, And Always.****

Leseprobe

CARLOS

Porn Star Brothers Book 1

L.J. Diva

TIMELINE

June 1977

August 1977

September 1977

October 1977

About The Author

Other Titles

Dedications

Copyright

June 1977

“Ohhh, Carlos, you’re such a stud...ugh…ugh…ugh.” The blonde Australian girl groaned as she lay underneath the five-foot-ten frame of the man fucking her. She was losing her mind. No man had ever made her orgasm this way before. In fact, no man had ever made her orgasm; period.

Carlos Stephanopoulos made one final thrust into the young girl beneath him and casually rolled off, running his hand through his silken shoulder length golden-brown hair that was as thick as any stud’s hair should be. Sweat trickled from his brow as he leant back against the pile of pillows behind him, and he grabbed a bottle of beer from the bedside table and took a swig.

“Oh, Carlos.” The blonde snuggled up to him, stroking his manly golden chest. “That was so good.” She pulled his arm around her but he pulled it back.

After flinging the sheet back from the bed, he grabbed his shorts from the floor and pulled them on. “Glad you think so.” His accent was a healthy mix of Greek and Australian, having been born and raised in the land down under.

His father, Spiros, had immigrated to Australia in 1950 where he met Jenny, the young Australian girl he would later propose to and marry. They had Carlos nine months after the wedding with his brothers soon following, and they led a very Australian life in a small town inland from the coast of New South Wales.

When Carlos was fourteen, his father packed them up and moved them all to Greece because his father had died, leaving Spiros Stephanopoulos the family business.

At first, Carlos and his brothers hated being wrenched away from the only home they’d known, but while the hankering for Australia stayed with them, they had grown to love Greece, especially the islands of Mykonos and Santorini where they spent their summers, with Carlos getting it on with every bit of skirt he could get his hands on. Oh, yes, their Greek island home was certainly providing a bountiful plethora of young, tanned and incredibly gullible beauties.

Carlos slid on his tank top with the resort’s logo on the left breast. He worked at the biggest resort on Mykonos as a summer fill-in and fill in he did. He filled all the girls he could and enjoyed himself immensely. No commitment, no worries. Just summers filled with hot blaring sun and hot horny women.

Of course, sometimes he dipped into the pool of older female tourists and, of course, they insisted on paying him for his time and energy. The first time that had happened he’d been shocked that a woman was offering him money for services rendered. But after hearing the other workers at the resort say the older ladies liked to pay for extra services, he had dipped his cock more frequently, and now older women were a regular thing and it paid well. The young ones…well, they were just a bit of fluff on the side.

Ah, the Greek islands…so full of beautiful, wealthy women. It was a great place to live!

“Carlos,” purred the girl who was young, lithe and full of bounce. “Let’s do that again.” She knelt on the bed behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, sliding her hand into his shorts.

He grabbed her hand, removed it, and gave it back to her. “That’s enough. I need to get back to work.” He stepped into his sandals and headed for the door to the holiday apartment she shared with her friends.

They were on holiday from Australia and Carlos had liked chatting with them to get word from back home, hearing how things had changed since he’d been there. But sometimes, younger girls could be clingy, and this one was being clingy right now.

“Carlos…”

He stopped and turned in the doorway.

She stood naked at the end of the bed. “Don’t you want more of this?” Her left forefinger was on her lips while her right hand slid into the bushy thatch between her legs.

The sight of her doing that turned him off. “Nah, I’m done.”

Why do so many girls try so hard? he thought as he strode down the cobbled walkways of Mykonos. They come off so desperately needy, yet the older women always have so much more confidence. Not necessarily as much stamina, but far more confidence than he’d ever seen in any of the young girls he bedded.

He made it back to the resort just as his lunch break was over and took his position at the spray booth. He always had long lines of beautiful women waiting to be sprayed down with coconut oil before baking to a crisp in the sun. At two dollars a pop, he kept half of what he earned, and it was a thriving business all on its own. Like now, there had been no one waiting at the tent when he’d walked up, but now people, mainly gorgeous women and a few gay men he recognised, were swarming into a line that weaved down the beach waiting for his magic hands to do their work.

“Who’s up for a spray?” he called out and received cheers in return. “Well, hello lovely lady, step right over here and turn around slowly.” He led his first customer to the left of the tent where everyone stood on a round mat on the sand. He sprayed her down as she turned and accepted her two dollars with a kiss on the hand when they were done.

“Thank you so much, Carlos,” the pale redhead from England said and sighed. “Will you be giving massages later?” She eyed off his golden tanned Adonis body, licking her lips, or at least trying to, in a seductive way. All it did was make her look like the child she was.

“I’ll be in the massage cabana tonight.” He led her out of the tent. “Next.”

“Oh, Carlos.” A voluptuous Colombian woman known as Connie stepped onto the mat. “Will you save a special massage for me later?” She stood straight with her shoulders back so her large breasts were front and centre.

And they were quite delightful breasts as Carlos had found out two nights ago when she’d come for a massage and showed him exactly where and how he should massage her. And he’d massaged her all the way to an orgasm for which she’d paid extra.

“Connie, my Luv.” His Aussie accent was strong this year as his grandparents had come over for a month. It was winter back in Australia and they’d wanted to see their grandchildren. Desperate for anything from back home, they’d spent so much time with each other that their old Australian speech pattern was in full force. Not that they’d ever completely picked up Greek, but it had influenced the way he and his brothers spoke. His bright blue eyes twinkled. “Do you want me to take you to heaven tonight?” He sprayed her down as she turned.

“Oh, yes, Carlos.” Her Colombian accent came thick and fast as black tendrils of hair gently hung down from the riot of curls captured on top of her head. “I want you to come and massage me tonight. I pay well.” She handed over her money. “For golden stud like you, I pay very well.” She wandered off leaving him blushing furiously.

Not that a man should be blushing, but when you’re twenty-four and have the world at your feet, having older women hit on you was quite a learning curve. Especially since it was older women who’d taught him most of what he knew.

He’d sprayed down three more women and accepted their money when the dirty old perve, Leon Spenter, stepped onto the mat.

“Hello, Carlos,” Leon purred.

Carlos looked at the sixty-something man in his tiny leopard swim briefs, wrinkled and sagging over-tanned skin, and grey thinning hair. “Leon, how are you today?” he asked as he sprayed, keeping his facial expression neutral.

“Oh…delightful.” Leon licked his wrinkled burnt lips. “All the more for seeing you, my Greek Adonis.”

“Only half Greek,” Carlos reminded him, holding out his hand for the money.

Leon pretended to hand it over, but snatched his hand back. “Half Greek or not you’re still an Adonis, Carlos.” He eyed the hard, muscled, tanned body of Carlos Stephanopoulos; his long, swept-back golden-brown hair, bright blue eyes, kissable lips, and a light sprinkling of chest hair underneath his tank top. “Carlos.” He licked his lips again. “You’re spraying oil on people and yet here you are wearing clothes. Shouldn’t you be shirtless too?”

Carlos sighed. The fags could be the worst, especially when they thought he swung both ways, even though he told them he didn’t. However, they kept insisting he should and didn’t like paying for anything until they got what they wanted out of him. Which they didn’t. So they always left disappointed. “Pay up, Leon, or don’t come back,” he snapped. “You’re holding up the line.”

Leon saw the Greek temper flare and reluctantly handed over the money. “Just having a little bit of fun, my dear, is all.”

“Go have your fun somewhere else,” Carlos said, waving the next person into the tent. “I have a business to run.” He turned his back on Leon and kept working. God, what is it with some of these people? he thought and went into robot mode. He saw, he sprayed, he collected money, but now he didn’t care for what he was doing and couldn’t wait for the afternoon to be over. Sure his reputation for being a stud had gotten all over the island, and sure he enjoyed most of it, especially the getting paid well part, but the rest of it could be so mundane.

At five o’clock he closed the tent flaps and put up the closed sign, much to the disappointment and murmurs of the line that was still going strong with a few repeat customers. But it was knock off time. He turned off his sprayer and shut up for the night then proceeded to count the day’s takings. Two thousand two hundred dollars; not bad for an afternoon’s work. He slipped one thousand into a bag for the resort manager, one thousand into a bag for him to take to the bank, and slipped the two hundred into his pocket. He always kept the leftovers, and there were plenty of them, but he never told the boss about them. They were the little extras he kept for himself.

It was a great life, working and living in Greece. He worked in his father’s meat shop late fall through winter and into early spring, and lived it up on the beach for the rest of the time. Six months in the shop slicing up raw meat, and six months of sunbathing and hot women wanting hot sex. It was a great life all right, and a great job. Bartending in the morning, spraying in the afternoon, and massaging all night. It was a career he’d had for the last six years since his eighteenth birthday, and it paid so well, much better than his father’s shop, that he’d saved up plenty from all the extracurricular activities.

And, of course, what the tax man didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. After all, what would he put on his tax form? Sex worker? Prostitute? Lover? Fighter? Resort worker and butcher shop assistant were all he put. The tax man didn’t need to know anything else.

Carlos made it home by five-thirty for a shower and a change of clothes. Pedro and Tomas, his brothers, were already there doing the same thing, and all were waiting for their father to get home from the shop.

“Hey, Mama.” After kissing his mother on the cheek, he popped a cherry tomato from the salad on the kitchen counter into his mouth. “Grandma.” Bending down to kiss her at the table, he asked, “So, what did you guys do today?” before sitting down himself.

Pedro came into the kitchen in his usual white pants and tank, having slept all day after working all night. He was four years younger than Carlos and had the best of both heritages; sharp blue eyes from their mother, and jet-black hair from their father. A lethal combination on a well-muscled young stud and all the girls knew it. So did Pedro.

“Is dinner nearly ready?” Pedro asked high-fiving Carlos and then kissing his mother and grandmother.

“Just waiting for your father,” Jenny replied, checking the lamb in the oven.

Pedro grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge. “Carlos, want one?”

Carlos looked in his brother’s direction. “Yeah.”

Pedro got out two and handed one over before sitting down next to him on their side of the table. Whenever there were guests, the boys all sat on one side of the table while the guests had the other.

Tomas strolled in from his shower and joined them. The middle son, he looked just like their father; tall, lean, but well-muscled, with jet-black hair, piercing black eyes, and a spread of jet-black hair across his well-toned chest that trailed down to his navel. He was also the quiet one in the family.

“My, how you all look so much like your parents,” their grandmother, Sarah, said.

At that moment Spiros Stephanopoulos walked through the door carrying half a frozen lamb on his shoulder. “Is there room in the freezer?” he asked Jenny before walking down the hall into the laundry slash extra kitchen where they had a small walk-in freezer. He’d installed it when he took over the family business and they’d moved into his parents’ house. He dumped the lamb on a shelf and walked back into the kitchen. Everyone looked at him in disdain. “What?” He looked down and saw his apron and clothes were meat- and blood-soaked.

“There is no way you’re sitting down to dinner like that.” Jenny pushed him toward the bedroom. “Go take a shower, dinner’s nearly ready.”

With a cheeky flick of his wife’s behind and a wink to his three manly sons, Spiros went to shower. He was still a fine-looking man at the age of fifty-two, and at fifty-two he still couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have met such an amazing woman in Jenny. And still he couldn’t believe she’d taken a chance on him; the immigrant Greek boy who’d sailed the seas in 1950 to a little country on the other side of the world known as Australia.

He’d landed in Sydney by himself, being the only one in his family to make the trip to a new promised land, and had met her within minutes as she was one of the helpers at the dock directing strangers to the places they needed to go. And it had been easy to direct him as the distant relatives he was staying with lived right next door to her.

Over the next year, she had taught him English and fallen in love with him, accepted his marriage proposal, and married him after he’d set himself up in a butcher’s shop. Meat was all he knew; having grown up in his father’s butcher shop, and so he quickly took over this new one, becoming the manager within a year which was good because Jenny gave birth to Carlos and the extra money was helpful.

He was also eternally grateful that she had agreed to move halfway around the world when his father died. It meant he needed to take over the family business and Jenny had urged him to go. Now, here they were ten years after moving back, and she still stuck it out with him, and he made it up to her every year by inviting her family members to stay for the summer. It also helped the boys keep in touch with their Australian roots.

Spiros quickly dried off and dressed, making it to the table just as the lamb came out of the oven. “Smells good.” He watched Jenny place the pan in front of him and carved it up. “Let’s eat.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes before getting into a review of the day.

“You boys have a good day at work?” Jenny asked.

Carlos and Pedro exchanged wicked grins, but Tomas just sat quietly.

“Absolutely,” Carlos said. “This resort thing is paying well.”

“Better than the shop?” Spiros asked, spearing a piece of lamb with his fork.

All three boys glanced at him. This routine was nothing new. He asked every time their mother did, and they answered the same way every time.

“Yes, Papa, it pays better,” Carlos replied.

“Much better,” Pedro added. He was becoming a bit of a stud in his own right, and was earning as much money DJing four nights a week on Santorini as he figured Carlos did at the resort.

“Well, I hope you’re saving that money for your own home one day,” Spiros went on. “And not wasting it on frivolous things like women.” He knew his sons had his Greek blood in them, and the stories that made it back to him made his hair curlier than it already was. Especially the stories about Carlos. Although, he was secretly proud of having a stud for a son, the things he heard he could sometimes do without hearing.

“Yes, Papa.” Carlos and Pedro knew not to wind him up as he had a temper when the need arose.

“Good. You’ll be able to look after your parents when they’re old then.” Spiros grinned wickedly, the same grin his sons had.

The boys rolled their eyes.

“In your dreams,” Pedro said. “I’ve got my life to live and the rest of it to pay for. I need all the money I can get. Carlos can look after you, he’s the oldest.”

“Geez, thanks,” Carlos drawled and finished off his beer.

They chatted their way through dessert and then the boys left for their night shifts. All three worked hard. While Pedro did only night shifts, it was still a gruelling eight to twelve hours long. Carlos and Tomas worked all day and then worked a night shift until midnight.

Mykonos was great that way. People swam and sunbaked all day while the sun was up, but when the sun went down all they wanted to do was party. Money flowed, beer flowed, drugs flowed, sex flowed, and Carlos was off to the resort to be masseur for the night and make sure the sex and money kept on flowing.

He strolled into the cabana to find Gary, the hot young Australian, finishing off for the day.

“Glad ya made it, mate,” he said with a flick of his blond locks. “I’m pooped, gonna have a drink and hit the sack.”

“With a woman?” Carlos got a pile of towels ready.

“Or a man.” Gary winked and strode off into the night, all six foot five and tanned and ready for anything.

“Oh, Carlos,” Connie sang through the curtain.

“I’m not open yet, Connie, you’ll have to wait a few minutes.” He laid out the new sheet on the bed.

“Well, I am open Carlos and ready to be massaged by your long, strong…fingers…”

Carlos frowned and grinned at the same time. As much as he loved getting paid for his job, and loved bedding women each and every night, sometimes it was a bit overbearing.

“You’ll just have to wait, Connie.” He spread rose petals on the bed, lit candles, and made sure the thick curtains were closed. He couldn’t have people catching him in the act of servicing all of these women or he’d be out on his rear.

Checking his watch he let Connie in, marking her off the booking sheet. Every massage had to be booked in so they knew how long for each, and so customers weren’t just waiting at the curtain ready to come in. That’s why the cabana was in a private area of the resort, only frequented by guests when they were let in. Few staff came and went, so Carlos had not been caught.

Yet.

He closed the curtains after checking to see if anyone was around and found Connie naked on the bed. “Connie,” he admonished. “You know we start off slow and build up to the crescendo.”

“Oh, I know.” She bent her knees and spread her legs. “But I’ve been waiting for you all day.”

He stood between her legs and closed them. “On your stomach first.”

She groaned. “Do I have to?” The Colombian woman was full in every sense, from her voluptuous bosoms to her voluptuous thatch, curved hips, strong thighs, and an even stronger vagina.

Clearly, she did her Kegels every day.

“On yer stomach,” Carlos said and crossed his arms. “Time’s money and you’re wasting precious moments.”

Connie quickly rolled over, and Carlos mounted the table, sitting on her ass to massage her shoulders.

“Oh…Carlos…” She groaned, gripping the sides of the table.

He slowly ran his fingers up her spine and across her shoulders to loosen the muscles, doing this for several minutes before making his way down her legs until he was standing at the end of the table, massaging her calves, her ankles, her feet, hitting the pressure spots of pleasure.

“Oh, God, Carlos, take me, fuck me.”

Carlos knew she was ready, and so was he. Pushing down his shorts, he set his erection free and allowed it solace in the one spot it awaited. Snapping on a condom, he grabbed Connie by the ankles, yanked her down the table until her lower half was barely hanging off the bed, and proceeded to fill her aching soul.

“Oh, Carlos, oh, God yes,” she groaned, burying her head in the bed and grasping the sides of it until her knuckles went white.

His hands continued their massage, his penis joined in. Up her spine his fingers went while he matched the movement inside her. Down his fingers came to her backside as he withdrew. Up her spine again, and down her spine again. Over and over.

“Oh, God, Carlos, now, now oh, God now,” Connie panted.

His thrusts became fast and furious, grunting into her until he was done and she was screaming his name.

They collapsed on the table, still entwined, but Carlos soon pulled out and cleaned up. Sweat trickled down his face and he pushed his hair back.

“Oh, Carlos…”

He turned to see Connie sitting on the end of the bed.

“Come, my darling.” Her arms were outstretched and her bosoms inviting. Carlos was enveloped into her embrace as she pushed his tank top over his head and let it fall to the floor. His shorts followed. She pulled him close and rubbed herself over him. The feel of his hot Adonis body against her no longer youthful one felt refreshing. Her breasts remained hardened against his chest, and his hard-on came back. “Carlos, oh, Carlos,” she whispered. “Take me, take me again.”

He took her on the edge of the table, with hard grunting thrusts until he was done and she was on her back, remaining inside as she grabbed his hands and placed them on her breasts.

“Squeeze.” He squeezed. So did she and he hardened again. “Squeeze.”

They played the game until they both came and both stopped squeezing.

“No more.” Carlos stumbled back, panting. He was done, and she was only his first customer. Checking his watch, he saw her time was up and quickly dressed, saying, “Time to go, Connie,” before brushing his hair back.

“Go, Carlos? Oh, no, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve booked you out for the whole night. Come to me, Carlos, let’s see if you have the stamina to please Constance DeLuca all night. If you can, there is big money in it for you.”

Looking at her open arms and open legs he cocked a brow. “Big money?”

“Very big money.”

He stripped off. “All right then.”

*****

Carlos could barely walk the next morning when he turned up for bartending duties.

“Whoa, dude,” Antonio said when he spied Carlos. “What happened to you?” He finished making the drink and handed it over to the sexy young thing at the bar.

She winked and waved her fingers at Antonio and then saw Carlos. Her eyes went wide and she stopped sipping her drink which was just as well since she wasn’t looking where she was going due to her attention being diverted to the hot bartender that had just arrived. She tripped, her face went into shock, and she fell face first into the sand.

“Oops.” Antonio raced around the bar to help her to her feet. “Are you all right, miss?” Antonio picked up the glass once she was standing.

“Oh,” she cried in a British accent. “I feel so stupid.”

“No, no,” Antonio soothed. “Women lose their mind when they see Carlos. I’ll get you another drink.” He helped her to a bar stool and quickly made another margarita. Taking it back to her, he saw her eyeing Carlos off who was serving another customer. “Here you go…ma’am.”

She finally noticed he was there and blushed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you…” Accepting the drink her eyes travelled up and down his muscular frame.

“Most women don’t,” Antonio replied dryly.

“How much?” she asked.

“For what? Carlos?”

She blushed harder. “The drink.”

“Oh.” Now it was Antonio’s turn to blush. “It’s on the house. Since you had an accident and all.”

“Oh.” The redness deepened and her eyes became hooded. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.”

“I’ll just…” She moved and pointed to her friends who all stood wide-eyed and giggling.

“Right.” Antonio smiled and waved at her friends whose eyes grew wider and they all blushed.

“Um, thanks.”

“No problems.”

“Um, bye.”

“Bye.”