by Aven Jayce
THE
LAIR OF JACK
Long Shot Love Duet Book 2
AVEN JAYCE
Copyright © 2016 by Aven Jayce
A&M Michigan Editing
Cover & Design by Triple J Marketing
Cover Image © mrcats–stock.adobe.com
Published by Beautiful Dirty Press in the United States
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to, events, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book can be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, reviews, and email, without written permission from the author.
Purchase only authorized editions.
DEDICATION
This is a work of fiction. It is an act of creative invention dedicated to the author, who may, herself, be fictional.
Welcome to The Lair of Jack
Long Shot Love Duet Book 2
This novel is intended for mature audiences due to strong language, explicit sex, drug use, and violence.
CONTENTS
Dedication
Welcome
Trapped
Once a Jameson...
Mind Games
Two Girls, One Fuck
Turning Point
Querulous?
Not in Kansas Anymore
Wild Horses
Luck
Emma
What Defines Us
Full Circle
Epilogue
Music Playlist
More Jack
Jameson Hotel Prologue
About Aven
Chapter One
TRAPPED
SHE’S PUSHING ME DOWN, trying to crawl onto my shoulders. I’m sinking. I can’t get up. I can’t see. I can’t see the surface!
Her weight overpowers me. There’s no way I can fight her off. The resistance of the water slows my swinging arms. I can’t punch. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe!
I grab the knife from my pocket, trying to open it in the dark, not wanting to lose it in the turbulent river. It’s my only chance to survive.
My lungs are squeezing tighter. God, I don’t want to die!
The blade flips open and I thrust upward, needing air, needing air now! I power into her, awakened when the blade pierces her flesh. I stab again and again, my hand immersed in her warm blood... fuck, I feel it. I can feel her blood.
I’m free... kick! Get air. Kick!
I break the surface with mammoth breaths.
“No!”
She’s clawing at my jeans, climbing up my body.
We’re terrified, both of us battling to be the one who survives.
“Mom!”
I no longer know up from down. My lungs are crushing... I’m descending into a murky tomb. She’s gonna kill me... my mom’s gonna kill me. I’m gonna die... I’m gonna die...
I clasp the handle of the knife—there’s no rationalization, no thought or planning to what I’m about to do—I just do it.
My arm lowers and the blade pierces the top of her head.
The freedom’s instant.
Her arms straighten, reaching for me as she descends to the bottom of the merciless river.
“Mom!”
• • •
“Wake up, Addie. Wake up.”
I gasp, kicking the covers away in a state of panic.
“It’s okay. Shh. It was just a dream. You’re okay.” Quinn rubs my forearm and cradles my head, pressing his lips to my temple until I calm down.
“A nightmare, not a dream... about my mom.”
The image of her face vanishing into the cold, dark water sends shivers down my spine.
“Why the fuck does Jack think I killed her? How could he say such a monstrous thing? It’s bad enough I can’t stop thinking about the real fights we had, but now, because of him, I’m gonna have fictional fights with her, too?”
“That’s how people like him stay in control. It’s a way to break you down, makes you question yourself so you’re no longer on top of your game.”
“A power trip.”
“Exactly. He called me a momma’s boy. That got to me. I can’t compare it to your situation, but it’s on my mind.”
I place my hand over my chest, feeling sweat on my breasts and the rapid thumping of my heart. Nightmare or not, it felt real.
“What I did was wrong. I shouldn’t have killed that woman.”
“Addie—”
“My thoughts got all jumbled.”
“What are you taking about? How could you think straight in a situation like that? You had one thing on your mind—survival.”
“There’s a way out of every situation. I just didn’t have enough time.” I turn, wishing a light were on so I could get lost in Quinn’s soothing amber eyes. I caress his warm earlobe, noticing how soft and full it feels, then trace the hairline of his crew cut before skimming my fingertip down his nose to the deep, well-defined “V” on his upper lip. Unfortunately, even the beautiful heart shape pressed against my finger isn’t suppressing my dream. “I should’ve let her push me down.”
“Addie—”
“No, listen. If I hadn’t tried to fight her and I dropped down, I could’ve grabbed her legs and turned her so she was facing away from me. Then I could’ve inched my way up her back until I was high enough to get my arm around her neck, keeping her confined while I swam to shore.”
“While towing her along? Fuck that.”
He releases a drawn-out sigh and I take it as a hint to change the subject.
I sit up and search in the dark for my ponytail scrunchie, finding it next to his shoulder. “This is what I do. I replay shit over and over in my head. And not to sound too twisted, but it would be great if I could focus only on the night at the river so I could have a break from always thinking about my mom... it doesn’t seem like that’s gonna happen, though. Sorry, I don’t mean to keep rambling on about it,” I say, tying my hair back.
“I don’t mind. I’m just as lost as you.”
I kiss his cheek and roll to the edge of the army cot, placing my feet on the splintery plywood floor. “Can you check the time on my cell while I pee?”
“Use the utility sink.”
“What? To pee? No, yuck.”
“Okay, but if you go outside the mosquitoes will bite your ass when you squat.” He lights a candle and checks my cell as I pick my underwear off the floor and walk over to the sink. “It’s only one in the morning. I thought we were asleep for longer than that.”
“Don’t watch me go, okay? And don’t listen either. It’s embarrassing.”
He’s puzzled by my request. “You’re kidding, right? My cock and tongue have been all over you and inside you. I’ve heard you moan and I’ve watched you cum, but you’re embarrassed by the sound you make when you take a piss?”
“Men piss, I pee. Just humor me, okay? Sing or whistle while I go.”
“Is that like whistling while you work?” he teases as I stare at the white, plastic utility sink. “I saw you go at the gas station, remember?”
“That was different, you couldn’t hear it on the soft ground. The pee hitting the plastic will patter and echo.” I boost onto the front edge and balance on my knees, waiting for him to create some background noise. “This is making me self-conscious. Whistle so I can get this over with... pleeease.”
; “No. Just do it.”
“Quinn.”
“Where’s my badass woman? Go already. What if we were living in a studio apartment? Would you make me leave our place every time you had to piss... I mean, pee? And what if...”
Finally. My bursting bladder is relieved while he continues with his wordy response. Talking or whistling, I don’t care which it is, as long as he’s occupied with something other than me doing my business.
No, he stopped. It’s too quiet... okay, now he’s humming an upbeat tune... he must be happy viewing my ass.
I finish and run the water, sending my waste down the drain.
The humming gets louder, closer, until I sense he’s right behind me. His warm breath unites with the tip of my ear and prowls down my neck, making me ache for that long, broad, indulging dick to deliver another whopping orgasm. I don’t care if we just did it a few hours ago—I need him again.
I turn and sink two fingers down the front of his boxers, guiding his six-foot frame and sculpted abs closer to my small, naked body.
“Slide it inside me,” I say, tossing my underwear back to the floor.
He leans in for a kiss, but a pounding fist on the barn door destroys the moment. He spins toward the sound then places a finger over his lips, signaling to keep quiet.
Yeah, like I’m gonna open my mouth when someone’s ten feet away.
“If it’s flappy but it’s growing, cup a tit.”
Jack’s deep, stoner voice fills the room. He gives the door a solid kick as he sings.
“If you’re hard and your woman’s near, make her stroke your dick. Stroke. Stroke. If you’re hard and she knows it, and you really want her to blow it... you better open this fucking door and let me in. In. In.”
He shouts like a crazed beast, trying to pry his way inside. An axe appears between the top of the door and the metal track as he works to slide it open.
“Shit.” Quinn scoops me off my feet and dashes over to the cot. I’m rolled underneath with my duffle bag, shirt, hoodie, underwear, and sneakers all crammed by my side. He pushes the items back, sending me toward the wall.
Fuck, my face is in a spider web!
I start to wriggle, pushing all the items down to my knees and feet so I have room to crawl out, but the thunderous beating on the wooden door drives me back in.
“No matter what happens, stay under here,” he whispers.
“Little pig, little pig, let me in, or I’ll light the fucking barn on fire and turn you into a goddamn pork roast,” Jack shouts.
The plank securing the door rattles and hits the floor, allowing him entrance into the shadowy, candlelit barn.
I freeze and hold my breath while everyone is silent.
Even flat on my back, I barely fit under the cot. My head’s turned, facing Quinn’s feet, and a metal spring is an inch from my cheek—any movement could cause me to knock into it, producing a squeak. And Jesus, I think a spider’s crawling up my neck... headed for my ear. If only I had enough room to swat it away. Bugs have been harassing me for days, biting, crawling, stalking their way into my life. What gives?
With one ear to the floor, Jack’s heavy footfalls thunder through my head. He stops next to the workbench, and says, “Two beers, one plate.” There’s silence for a minute and he repeats, “Two beers, one plate. Funny. You ever see that video? Two girls, one cup?”
Quinn takes a step back and says, “No, I haven’t. And one beer’s not enough with dinner. I should’ve had a third.”
“I suppose one cup isn’t enough, either,” Jack says.
“What do you want?”
The spider halts when vibrations from Jack’s colossal feet pass through the plywood and into my body. He stops in front of the bed, three feet from my face.
Crap, I think there’s a second spider on my forehead... maybe it’s just the web or a strand of hair... please be my hair... please be my hair. Oh, for God’s sake, something’s inching along the back of my neck. I’m in a nest of spiders. How many are under here? Help me!
“Quinn, my friend, buddy, pal... it’s interesting that I’m holding an axe and you’re asking me what I want. What do you think I want?” He lowers it to his side, the blade swinging before my eyes. “Tell me why the fuck you’re out here. The room I thought you were in at the retreat was empty, so I had to interrupt Dylan sticking it to Roxanne to find out where you went. She said this is your usual spot. So what’s this place all about?” His voice is low like a southern blues singer, steady and confident. The words roll off his tongue in such a seductive way that he sounds like he’s making love to himself. “What’s eating away at you? It must be pretty big if you don’t enjoy socializing with the rest of the Afterglow workers. Roxanne said you spent most of last year in this little barn, and that was before you had a chick, so it can’t be about your girl up and leaving. Are you embarrassed about those scars on your leg?” The axe disappears, then swings back down into view. “You think you’re hiding the real reason behind those scars from the rest of us? That’s why you stay out here... alone.”
The axe head disappears again and Quinn takes a leap back.
“Don’t.”
“Oh, come on. I can’t help it if this long, hard, thick, wooden handle wants to play with your head.”
“Tell me what you want and get out so I can get some sleep.”
Listen to him, Jack. Leave before I freak out that you’re tormenting my man... and I can’t sit still much longer with these fucking bugs. The spider reached the summit of my neck, crept along my jawline, and is now finding it’s way to my nose. I can see it out of the corner of my eye.
“We’re having an intervention, me, you, and your brother. We can start as soon as he busts a nut inside that wench and gets his ass out here.” Jack sits on the bed, his weight trapping the spider between my cheek and a bedspring, causing its legs to reel in search of an escape.
“I have nothing to say.” Quinn sounds nervous as he speaks.
“Yeah you do. The three of us need to discuss your sex life. You can start by telling me if you’re gay, bi, or straight.”
“Get the fuck out. You’re high, my girlfriend just left me, and all I want to do is go to bed.”
“How about I join you? Sit down.” He slips back and pats the thin mattress. “I promise I won’t bite... unless you enjoy getting a good grip of a man’s teeth on the back of your neck when you’re getting a stiff one in your ass.”
“That’s not... it’s not... you know what? Fuck you, asshole.”
He laughs and dangles his feet over the side of the bed. “Since you obviously don’t dig foreplay, I’ll get down to business. I saw those scars on your leg yesterday morning at breakfast.”
“So.”
“Interesting pattern. They’re lines, one after another. Some are crossed through the rest. Such deliberate markings. What’s the total count?”
“It’s none of your goddamn business. Besides, you’ve got scars. Everyone does. I’m lucky I don’t have more. So what?”
“I’m not buying that. Your dad fucked with you, he was abusive, same as mine, and I’m here to let you know he was wrong.”
“Who cares what you have to say? He’s a shit, and you’re full of it.”
“To some degree, that’s true.”
He shifts on the mattress and... no... did, did he just pass gas inches from my face? Oh my God, he stinks. And he’s laughing, too. Not funny. Not funny, Jack!
“Your dad is a piece of shit, but I’m certainly not full of it. A little gassy, maybe, but I do know what I’m talking about.”
“It’s hard to believe you’re this obnoxious.” Quinn takes another step away while I’m stuck in Jack’s deadly fumes.
“What’s so hard to believe? Men are dirty, foul-mouthed pigs.”
“Stop staring at my scars and get out.”
“No, you’re gonna listen to me. We’re the offspring of two fucked up men who expected us to grow up
to be just like them. But when they realized we were stronger, smarter, and not afraid to do our own thing or tell them to fuck off, they did everything in their power to take us down.”
“Oh yeah?” Quinn says with a sneer.
“My dad was quick to reign over my world, and I was quick to knock that golden crown off the top of his head and put him in his place. But you haven’t made it as far, so I’ve decided that I’m gonna steer you in the right direction, let you know it’s okay to break away from what your bastard father did to you.” His dangling feet disappear as he changes positions, the spring sinking further into my cheek. “Quinn Ellis, I came to tell you that you can be whoever the fuck you want. You’re the king, not your dad. If you want to let one rip, do it. And if you want to kiss or fuck a man, do it. Now, why don’t you undress and show me what you’ve got?”
“Shut the hell up, and quit looking at my leg. I got into trouble a lot as a kid and it was punishment. That’s all.”
He’s sliding into his jeans with haste, agitated and breathing heavily. He needs to remember what he just told me—Jack’s breaking him down to gain control.
“You’re hiding out instead of being the person you want to be. The expression on your face when I wanted to fuck you and your girl was one of total curiosity. Don’t think I didn’t notice the effort you put into acting standoffish—biting your lip so you wouldn’t smile, leaning back with your arm over the top of the chair in that manly pose, plus the nonstop headshake. What a fucking tease.” He laughs, then takes a break from his pitiless comments to light a cigarette. The scent and smoke snake under the cot and tickle my nose. “I saw your cock rising in your shorts, so fess up, you were considering it. Daydreaming about jerking your dick while I rub one out on top of you. My thick cum landing on your tan chest, all while Addie licks you clean.”
The spider’s floppy legs on my cheek are nothing compared to hearing this verbal abuse. If I had a knife, I’d ram it through this mattress, straight into his gassy ass.
