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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, Pedro Stefan, and the rocky path he took to find the life and love he craved in the Porn Star Brothers series.
Pedro Stephanopoulos is the youngest of three, Australian born and Greek Island raised brothers. He loves music and being a Dj on Santorini.
He lives the good life Djing four nights a week in a great job, gets a great girl, and then finds himself on the run from her over-protective father who takes matters into his own hands.
Finding himself in New York, he gets the Dj gig at the hottest new club in the city and is living the high life, until it all comes crashing down with a stalker, creepy gifts, a beating, and a kidnapping.
And it all comes down to one person…
One person who’s out to end the life of Pedro Stephanopoulos…
****Pedro is the second novella in the Porn Star Brothers contemporary romance series featuring the sizzlingly sexy youngest Greek Australian bad boy brother. If you like family sagas, heartfelt romances and dancing to ’70s disco, then you’ll love the latest 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.
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Seitenzahl: 235
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018
PEDRO
Porn Star Brothers Book 2
L.J. Diva
TIMELINE
June 1977
July 1977
September 1977
October 1977
About the Author
Other Titles
Dedications
Copyright
June 1977
Thumping music reverberated through Santorini’s biggest and most popular dance club and into the night. The crowd was high on life and bouncing up and down with an energy seen only in addicts. The floor shook with the momentum of their fervent dancing and was slick with five hours of sweat and lust.
Club owner, Andros Poulos, looked on from his private enclosed balcony above the dance floor. Night after night the place was packed to the rafters with frenzied club hoppers and party goers. Night after night they bought his drinks, his women, his blow. And it was all because of one man.
Pedro Stephanopoulos.
The hot twenty-year-old stud had become a DJ sensation the year before on Mykonos and Andros had been able to get him this summer. Because word had gotten around, all the tourists from all the islands came to Santorini every night. And it was only the first month of summer.
He gazed across the electric scene before him; Pedro dancing on stage throwing the beats together, women gyrating and thrusting down the front trying to get his attention. So were some of the men. The rest of the crowd was an eclectic mix of men, women, locals, tourists, gays and straights, all blending like an exotic cocktail of spice, lust and sex.
Andros watched Pedro. The hot stud had everything going for him. Six feet of rock-hard body and jet-black hair with locks hanging over his bright blue eyes. His toned chest glistened with sweat under the lights, and his white shirt hung open, plastered to his body. White pants were slung low, allowing everyone to dream of what he held there. Waving his arms in the air, he encouraged the crowd to yell and scream.
Yes, Pedro Stephanopoulos was a very good investment indeed.
“Papa.” Angelina, Andros’s daughter, came up beside him.
He was so proud of his baby girl. At eighteen she had finished high school with top honours and had a scholarship to Juilliard in New York. It was not that he couldn’t afford to send her, as he was one of the wealthiest men on the island, but she had earned her seat all on her own. Now she was spending the summer with him before leaving in the fall. “Angelina, how do you like the place?” It was her first visit to the club and he wanted to make an impression.
“Noisy,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “The bright lights are giving me a headache.” The petite girl with her long black hair, big brown eyes, and perfect complexion stood beside her father shielding her eyes.
“Come, come.” He ushered her into his office and closed the door. The noise dropped away and the air was almost silent.
“Ah, that’s better.” She sat on the sofa. “Too noisy for me.”
“And yet you’re moving to New York, a city that never sleeps,” her father argued. “And attending a music school. And yet this…” He waved an arm toward the club. “This is too noisy for you?”
She smiled. “Papa, it won’t be so noisy at the school, and I’ll be staying in a quiet part of the city, so I’ll get plenty of peace and quiet.”
“Do you have to go?” Andros sat beside her and placed a hand over hers. “Do I have to lose my little girl?”
“Papa.” She patted his hand. “You’re not losing me. I’m going to further my education.”
“Of course I’m losing you.” He kissed her hand. “It’s not as if you’re going to the mainland to school. You’re going half way around the world for God’s sake. I won’t be able to see you unless I fly there.”
“And what’s wrong with that?”
He sighed. “Nothing. Not if it means my little girl is getting the best education she can.” Andros paused and then leant toward her. “Are you sure you want to go?”
Angelina laughed. “Of course, Papa. I’m going, and that’s final.”
He got up and wandered over to the balcony door. “Well, if there’s nothing more I can say,” he said lightly, half joking. “Then you should go. There’s nothing here for you, only too much noise, too much light.”
She smiled at his attempted joke. “Okay, Papa. I still have another month before I go. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She kissed him on the cheek and left. Stopping at the bottom of the stairs she gazed toward the stage where Pedro was, admiring the tall, bare-chested stud. He barely glanced in her direction, but she still felt the thrill of that glance go down to her soul. He wouldn’t be the first man she’d bedded, but he was definitely going to be the one before she left for college.
Pedro waved his arm in the air, drawing cheers from the crowd. It was a hot night. A steamy 100 degrees created a lot of sweat and a lot of drinking. He slowed things down with another track and took a few moments to down a bottle of water. “Ladies and gentlemen, I wanna see you get your groove thang on, slow it down now.” He danced behind his console, gave his headphones a wipe and downed another bottle of water that Mikos, the bartender, had brought him.
Mikos hovered by the side of the stage. “You need anything else, Peds?” he yelled.
“How ’bout a bottle of juice and something to eat?” Pedro yelled back. “I need to keep my energy up and I’m sweating out the water.”
Mikos nodded and hurried away. Part of his job that summer was to make sure Pedro had everything he needed to do the job he had to do. It was his first job and he wanted to make an impression on the boss. At eighteen, and fresh out of school, he needed the job and the money, and he got paid extra for taking care of Pedro. So why would he mind? He minded because Pedro got all the girls. Not that he was overly interested in them, but Mikos knew that by hanging around Pedro that maybe he’d get a few girls coming his way.
He grabbed a large jug of juice and poured it into a glass bottle, added a basket of mini burgers and fries to the tray and took them back to the stage, leaving them on the small table behind the DJ booth.
Pedro noticed and waved before turning his attention to the girls down the front. His fingers did a little wave and he winked, sending them into a screaming frenzy, waving their hands back at him. One even bared her breasts.
God, life was good as a DJ!
That girl was still there three hours later when he finished, and she cornered him outside as he was taking a breather.
“Oh, Pedro, you’re so hot.” She sidled up to him and ran her fingers across his chest. “I want you.”
A part of him was surprised, even though the rest of him wasn’t. It was something he’d been getting for the last month. Women wanting him, men wanting him, it was turning into a summer frenzy of sex, love and holiday romance.
“That’s nice,” he said, finishing off his juice and trying to be polite. “Glad you enjoyed yourself. I’m off home.” He left the bottle at the back door and took off for the beach. After the night he’d had he needed a swim to cool off, and peeling off the sweat soaked shirt that was plastered to his body, he dropped it on the sand. His pants were stiff and dry against his skin from hours of sweaty dancing, so he dropped those as well and stood in his bare flesh.
Summer time on the islands, middle of the night, no one was going to care that he was naked.
He ran for the water and dived in, relishing the coolness on his hot flesh. He did a few strokes to the left, a few strokes to the right, and floated on his back looking up at the sky. It was as if he was part of it, floating in blackness surrounded by stars. He felt himself drift off but pulled himself back. Not a good place to fall asleep. Swimming for the shore he saw a white figure on the sand where his clothes were, and stepping out of the water he noted the figure was a woman.
“Pedro,” she sing-songed.
He walked over to her and saw the woman from the club, stark naked and voluptuously curvy. He stirred. “You followed me?”
She noticed the stirring. “Yes. I want you.” She threw herself at his chest, and he caught her by the arms. “Take me, I want you, I’m yours.” She flattened her body against him and her hot flesh melded with his.
He stirred more, hardening between her open thighs.
Her lips hovered below his, and her hand reached down to guide him, pulling him down to the sand and inside of her, groaning as he entered, cocooned in her warmth. She arched into him, and his mouth inhaled her breast, sucking, licking, biting, teasing it into submission. She came, and he kept thrusting.
“You need to put your clothes back on.”
Her eyes opened, and she saw him doing his pants up. “What?” She was confused. Wasn’t he just inside of me making love to me? “What are you doing?”
“Getting dressed. I just took a swim and now I’m going home. You need to put your clothes on.” He nodded at her dress on the sand. “I’m flattered, but not interested.” He picked up his shirt, shoes and bag and headed for the dock. He was taking the ferry home to Mykonos for some good food and good sleep.
“What do you mean you’re not interested?” she screamed and ran after him. “I’m offering you my body.” She jumped in front of him and grabbed her breasts. “I’m offering you these, this, on a platter and you’re turning me down? What?” She cocked her top lip. “Don’t like pussy? What are you, a fag?”
Pedro gave her a dirty look. “No, I’m not. I’m just not interested in you.” He continued on his way, but she attacked him.
“How dare you,” she screamed and pushed him down from behind. He fell to the sand and she pounced, planting herself on him, rolling him over and ripping at his zip. “How dare you refuse me?” He grabbed at her hands, but she’d already pulled his cock out and was trying to sit on it. “How dare you.”
He got her by the arms and threw her off, sending her rolling across the sand. Getting to his feet, he grabbed his things and ran, pulling up his zip along the way. Making it to the ferry as it pulled in, he reported the woman to the ferry master, who called over a wharf officer.
“What happened?” the officer asked.
“She attacked me because I wouldn’t have sex with her.” Pedro put his shoes on and examined the red marks on his torso and arms. “I’m a DJ at SantorPoulos, the club owned by Andros Poulos. She was there all night and followed me down to the beach. Then she attacked me when I told her I wasn’t interested. She followed me. She’s crazy, crazy man.” He saw they weren’t taking him all that seriously, although, at the mention of his boss, they had perked up. “I seriously doubt my boss is going to like the fact his patrons are attacking his staff.”
“Of course, of course,” the officer said. While he didn’t know Andros Poulos personally, his chief did. “Tell me, a description of her.”
“Average height, a mop of brown hair, curvy figure.” Pedro shrugged. “That’s about it. Don’t know her name. She wasn’t Greek, so probably a tourist.”
The officer took notes. “Of course. So many tourists on this island. It will be hard to find her. We will keep a lookout for a woman matching that description and see if she attacks other men.” He nodded. “Mr Stephanopoulos.”
Pedro sighed. He knew he wasn’t going to get any help from the police whatsoever, so he jumped on board the ferry and headed home, watching the sun rise over the horizon, sending the sky into a rainbow of colours. After a nice hot shower and an equally hot breakfast, he was going to sleep all day.
He got off the boat and walked home, arriving to find his house in an uproar. “Mama, Papa, what’s wrong?” He saw Tomas sitting on the sofa next to his grandparents, stunned into silence.
“Wrong?” Spiros yelled. “Wrong! What’s wrong is your brother has gone and shot someone and raped two women.”
Pedro turned Tomas. “Tomas, how could—”
“Not him,” Spiros roared. “Carlos.” He paced back and forth across their small lounge room.
Pedro stared at his parents. “What? Wait, are you saying that Carlos…no…he wouldn’t.”
“And now he has disappeared and no one knows where he’s gone,” Jenny said, tears sliding silently down her face. “The police were here last night. They ripped the place apart looking for him. I’ve only just finished tidying everything.” Her eyes went around the room.
Pedro shook his head. “No…I can’t…no…he wouldn’t.” He looked at his brother. “Tomas?”
Tomas finally looked up, a desolate expression on his face. “What?”
“Do you know what happened? You work at the same resort.”
Tomas inhaled slowly then exhaled, his head moving from side to side. “I have no idea. I was on the other side of the resort. I heard there had been gunshots and that the masseur was involved. Nothing else.” His mind wandered off again.
Pedro ran a hand through his hair and felt the sand and grit in it.
His mother saw him. “You go,” she said. “Go and have a shower and I’ll make you some breakfast.” She waved him toward the boys’ private quarters. “Go freshen up and I’ll make your favourite. Go.” Looking around at nothing, she finally moved from her spot in the middle of the room.
Pedro saw the scene around him and took off, seeking refuge under the spray of cold then hot water. He alternated between the two as he soaped himself down and washed off the dry sweat and salty grit. He thought about Carlos.
What in the hell had he gotten himself into? Were the cops really after him for rape and a shooting? It was well known that Carlos loved women and was paid to please them; he didn’t need to force a woman into sex. And shooting? Carlos had never held a gun in his life. None of them had. Not even back in Australia when they were kids. Their parents had wanted nothing to do with guns, so they’d never learned how to shoot.
He turned off the taps and stepped out. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he wondered what this meant now. Are the cops hunting him down? Where is he? What really happened? Is he still on the island? What if they catch him? Who were the women? Why was there a shooting? And most importantly, who got shot?
He quickly dressed in the shorts and tank he slept in and started feeling the effects of needing sleep, barely making it into the dining room just as breakfast was ready.
“Eat up.” Jenny placed a plate of eggs, bacon and sausages in front of him and lovingly slid her hand over his hair. “You’re still a growing boy, you need your strength.” She planted a kiss on his forehead.
Tomas sat down morosely and picked at his toast.
“What’s wrong with you?” Pedro wasn’t sure he could down so much food just yet, so poured himself a tall glass of juice.
Tomas gazed at him. “Huh?”
“Jesus, you’re out of it.” Pedro finished his drink and dug into his food.
Tomas shrugged a shoulder and went back to picking at his toast.
Spiros finally made it to the table. “Our son may have ruined his life, but he will not ruin ours. We will try to stick to our normal routine. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Meat shop, home. He will not ruin our lives too.”
“Do we actually know what happened?” Pedro asked as his mother and grandparents sat down with their own food.
“He raped and shot, enough said,” Spiros spat.
“Except, Carlos wouldn’t do that, none of us would. You raised us better than that,” Pedro argued. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“Well, he did.” Spiros slammed a hand down on the table. “He did, end of story. Eat your breakfast.”
“Well, I don’t believe it,” Pedro replied, defying his father. “We know Carlos, you raised him, he wouldn’t rape a woman any more than me or Tomas would. And why would he shoot anyone? Who did he supposedly shoot and why should we believe anything the cops say? They’re just as corrupt here as on the mainland.”
“Because he ran away like a gutless coward after he did it. That is not a son I raised.” Spiros’s face was as black as thunder. “That is no son of mine.”
“How do we know he ran away?” Pedro demanded. “He could be hiding out until he can tell his side of the story.”
“Because he left us a letter,” Jenny said quietly.
Pedro zeroed in on her. “What?”
She looked up. “He left a letter on the table. I found it before the police got here.”
“What does it say?” Pedro asked eagerly. “Read it.”
She slipped it out of her dress pocket and handed it to him. He read it out loud. “If you’re reading this then I’ve gone. I’ve been planning to leave for some time, using my twenty-fifth birthday as the date I travel overseas to a new land. But if I’m not twenty-five then something has happened to make me leave. I’ve left some money toward expenses and hope all is safe and well with all of you as it may not be with me. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine, love Carlos.”
“Sounds like he already had that prepared,” Tomas finally piped up.
“Sounds like he has no idea what’s going on,” Pedro replied. “No mention of the current problem. Look…” He gazed at his parents. “Something is clearly wrong and we need to find out what actually happened.”
“No.” Spiros banged the table as he stood. “No more talk of him. No more.” He shoved back his chair and stormed out of the house.
“But, Mama—” Pedro started.
“Stop,” she said sadly, patting her son on the hand. “Just finish your breakfast and get some rest. You have work again tonight, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“Then finish up and rest.” She went back to eating her own food.
Pedro exhaled loudly and returned to his food, finishing what he could before hitting the bed in his room. He was physically tired, but his brain was racing. He needed sleep and needed to calm down. Breathe in slowly, and out slowly. He thought about being attacked and how it must have gone down with Carlos. Breathe in slowly, and out slowly. He thought about his parents and wondered what the hell was with Tomas. Breathe in slowly…breathe out slowly…
His alarm went off at six p.m., and his eyes flew open. “Oh.” He took a deep breath, jumped out of bed and changed. Walking into the lounge room, he found his mother wringing her hands.
“Don’t worry, Mama, it will all work out. Carlos will come home. This will be sorted. We’ll all be together again.”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
He kissed her cheek and left for the ferry, sailing across the water and making it to Santorini by seven-thirty.
“Mikos,” Pedro greeted. “I’m going to need a bodyguard tonight, as well as lots of food and drink.”
“What’s this about a bodyguard?” Andros questioned as he patted Pedro on the shoulder. “Does my resident DJ need protection?” He took the seat beside Pedro at the bar.
“I’ll say,” Pedro said. “Some crazy woman from last night followed me down to the beach and was standing naked for me when I got out after my swim. Then she started screaming when I told her I wasn’t interested and ran after me, pushed me down and scratched me.” He showed the red marks on his skin. “Then she pulled my cock out of my pants and tried to sit on it. I pushed her away and ran for the wharf to tell the officer what had happened. Unless I see her again and point her out they probably won’t catch her.”
Mikos shook his head. “Dude, that was some wild cat. She was buck naked waiting for you?” He could only guess what Pedro Stephanopoulos looked like in the downstairs department, but if his brother Carlos was any indication of the family genes, then Pedro was packing heat as well. Not that he’d intentionally set out to see Carlos naked, he’d just happened to be sneaking around the masseur’s cabana and heard a woman screaming out ‘more, more’ and had been curious enough to take a peek. There was Carlos in all his Greek Australian glory of ten inches of thick, strong muscle. Mikos had watched him enter the woman over and over, pleasing, pleasuring, making her groan and writhe on the massage table. It had turned him on so much he had to relieve himself in the bushes before leaving. It was not as though he had a girlfriend to take it out on, so the bushes and his hand had to do. He wondered if Pedro did the same things.
“Well, my boy, we’ll just have to hire a guard to walk you to the ferry and back. Can’t have any more women attacking my star attraction,” Andros said. “The club opens in a few minutes; why don’t you go and get ready?”
Pedro took his water bottle and clambered up on stage. He already had his set list ready, as he planned them a week ahead, so he gathered the records together ready to play. He hadn’t mentioned anything about Carlos, and didn’t even know if the news had travelled, but Greek islands were like Greek villages; news got around pretty damn fast.
He set up the first record, an extended 12 inch that was going to play for a good twenty minutes. He always started with something simple as the doors opened at eight, but the place wasn’t really going until eight-thirty when his gig started, so they played music while people settled in and got warmed up.
The doors opened and he set the needle on it.
This time also gave him a few minutes to eat and psyche himself up. And tonight he needed psyching. He loved music and desperately wanted to be a world-renowned DJ, but whatever the hell was going on with Carlos had got him out of sync.
Finishing his food, he swallowed the last of his juice and stood to get himself limber. After shaking his shoulders and stretching his arms above his head to stretch his back out, he swung his arms around in circles and jumped on the spot, loosening up every muscle he had for the onslaught of his performance. He needed to get all thought of everything, and everyone, out of his brain, preferring to start each show with a clear mind and body.
Last night popped into his head. What in God’s name had possessed that woman to follow him, get naked and expect sex, then attack him and try and sit on his cock? What the hell was in her head that she wanted to sit on him and was going to assault him for it? He shook his head. He didn’t know, but he didn’t like it, and he hoped she didn’t turn up tonight. He peered through the curtain and saw her front and centre.
“Shit!” He thought for a moment. “Hey, Mikos,” he yelled and waved the bartender over. “Tell Poulos that crazy woman from last night is here again and ask if I can get one of the bouncers to keep an eye on her.”
“Sure thing.” Mikos walked off, and ten minutes later, just before Pedro was set to go on stage, one of the bouncers came behind the curtain.
“Mr P said to guard you against some crazy woman?”
“She’s crazy all right.” Pedro pointed her out to the bouncer. “Keep an eye on her for me.” He took to the stage and grabbed the mic. “Ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to Club SantorPoulos. I am Pedro Stephanopoulos your DJ, are you ready to rock tonight?” He waved his arm in the air. A chorus of screaming came back at him. “Then let’s get down to the funky beats of The Trammps and Disco Inferno.”
The night went from there, and he finished up ten hours later with a resounding rendition of Thelma Houston’s Don’t Leave Me This Way that had the whole club singing at the top of their lungs and wildly, drunkenly, waving their arms in the air.
Pedro set up the system to play a 12 inch to take them out for the rest of the morning until the club shut, then left the stage.
“Here.” Mikos handed him a burger and bottle of juice. “Rehydrate.”
Pedro took the bottle and swallowed half the juice before taking a breath. “God I am so hot,” he whooped. “Everybody loves me.” He waved his arms in the air and did a little dance. “Everybody loves me, yeah, yeah,” he sang. “Everybody loves me, yeah, yeah.”
Andros came backstage. “They certainly do. The club is full every night that you’re here. Are you sure I can’t convince you to work seven nights a week?” He straightened his suit and eyed the stallion before him. Thank God Angelina didn’t come to the club.
Pedro shook his head. “Nah, man. I need time off to party and have some fun. Four nights is enough for me.”
“Yes. I’m sure it is. Especially now.”
Pedro stopped dancing. “What? Why now?”
“Well, with your brother and everything…” Andros gave a slight shrug. “Do you need time off?”
Pedro licked his lips. “What do you mean? What about my brother?”
Andros checked his watch. “Well, it’s just that…” He waved a hand. “It’s gotten out that Carlos assaulted two women and shot one.”
Pedro’s temper flared and he grabbed Poulos by the collar. “Don’t you dare talk rubbish about my brother like that, he did no such thing. He would never hurt a woman like that. We were raised better than that.”
Andros’s bodyguard pulled Pedro off his boss and twisted his arm up behind his back.
“Ow, get off me.”
“It’s all right, Magnus, let him go. Clearly the whole deal about his brother has him upset,” Andros said and waved his bodyguard off. “Clearly Mr Stephanopoulos is close to his family and very upset by the current events, but if he ever,” he stepped close to Pedro, “touches me that way again, with violence in his mind,” his eyes flashed, “then he will need a lesson in etiquette. Has he got that clear?” The threat in his voice made it very clear.
Pedro glared darkly at him and brushed down his shirt. “Yeah, things are very clear now.” Grabbing his bag, he stormed out the back door and down to the beach for a swim.
Stripping off, he waded into the cool calming water and swam out to the platform that was for tourists to lie on. He climbed up and spread out, flat on his back, looking up at the sky. Yeah, he got Andros’s message loud and clear. He didn’t mind using you but if you crossed him, look out.
After a few more minutes in which he formulated a plan, Pedro swam back, collected his things, and headed for the ferry.
*****
Pedro had the next three days off, so he went in search of Carlos. He went to the resort and spoke to all of his co-workers.
Antonio had no idea where he was, but had noted that his mother had disappeared without a word at the same time. She had since called to let him know she was back in Los Angeles dealing with some things.