The Land of Rabbits (Long Shot Love Duet #1)

by Aven Jayce

  “I-I didn’t realize. I’ve only pictured slutty women coming here for sex. I also got the impression the guys were all whores and the place was seedy.”

  “That’s not far from the truth.”

  “Even so, you’re different,” I whisper. “You seem sweet.” My hands touch his broad shoulders then skim down to his ripped abs. His skin’s smooth and covered in oil. “I didn’t peg you as a nice guy at first.”

  “Not allowed.” He acknowledges my touch, but is slow to back away.

  “Why do you stay here? What’s the attraction?”

  His fingers circle my stomach before prowling toward my chest, stopping under my chin.

  “Why?” I repeat.

  “I stay because life before this was hell.” He pauses, then lowers on top of me in a rapid lunge, consuming my clit with a teasing slide of his dick. “None of that matters anyway.” He pulls back.

  “Wow...”

  “You like that?”

  “Yeah... wait. It does matter. People matter to me.” I ignore his flirtatious bait. “And how am I supposed to learn more about you if you can’t answer my questions? It’s frustrating.” I sigh, reaching out in the dark to find him again. “Start with your last name and where you’re from.”

  “Quinn! Stick to the massage!” Roxanne shouts.

  I drop my arm and use my softest voice. “This is better than what you had before? What about being abused? I saw what happened with the hose.”

  “I figured.”

  “It was sickening. At least tell me why.”

  He leans closer to whisper in my ear. “Roxanne gets to sample us before anyone else, those are her rules. But I haven’t fucked her. And I don’t plan on it. I’ll endure the job in exchange for her free room and board, but I’m not sticking my dick inside that woman.”

  “Jesus.”

  “And until I submit, I can’t kiss or screw anyone, and no one can touch me either. She’s first.”

  “Are you serious? So all the guys here have slept with her?”

  “They still do. It’s not once. It’s whenever she calls for you.”

  I can’t help but groan.

  “You’d be surprised how quickly the guys jump into this life, like Tyler. We came here together, picked up from the same place, only I haven’t advanced like him. It’s not what I was expecting.”

  “How is it better then? Where did you come from?”

  I hear loud footsteps coming this way. “Don’t answer that,” Roxanne snarls, entering the room. “Don’t you dare answer that.”

  He rushes off the table and I remove the facemask, seeing him grab a towel to cover his waist. His arms are crossed in a defensive stance as he bows his head—a mix of protest and obedience.

  “This isn’t a date, it’s a rubdown. My men don’t need to be harassed with a string of personal questions.”

  “I don’t mind. My answers have been discreet.”

  “Shut up, Quinn. I mind.” She points a spindly finger at him then at me. “Can you finish this without interrogating him? Or should I send in someone else to finish the job?”

  “I didn’t pay for anyone else.”

  “I’ll finish up,” he says. “We’re good.”

  With my hands covering my tits, I give her an appalled look, but she tosses one right back before walking out.

  Nasty wench.

  I tie the strings of my bikini then recline, giving the ceiling a good stare.

  “How am I doing?” he asks with a half-grin, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Great. The massage is great... but the lack of privacy sucks.”

  “Well, let’s talk about you instead.” His hand streams up my arm then floats down to my wrist. “Tell me why you’re depressed.”

  “That’s not an easy subject.”

  “Then you decide what you’d like to say about yourself. How ‘bout a quick bio? If I found you on Facebook, what would be on your page?”

  “Good question. You’d find a lot of posts about the mistreatment of animals, political issues, e-cards and gifs with foolish quotes, photos of my mom and me before she... died.” I take a deep breath. And another.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah... lots of selfies when I’m drunk, and pictures of my uncle’s dog, Baxter... bits and pieces of my life. Although, I’m really just a nobody.”

  “You’re pretty hard on yourself.”

  “No. My mom used to say we’re born nobodies and become a somebody after we’ve fulfilled at least five life goals. So I’m still a nobody. I’m not hard on myself, it’s the truth.”

  “That’s an odd thing to say... for your mom to say. Was she serious?”

  “She was a high school guidance counselor and an overachiever who wanted me to be just like her, she was damn serious. We loved one another, but she’d be disappointed in what a failure I’ve become.”

  “You’re only twenty.”

  “Twenty is supposed to be a big year. I’m an adult and should be living on my own by now. She made me come up with a four-year plan when I started college and now I’m off course, way off course. Everything’s fucked up.”

  “You can’t follow a fabricated plan. That’s not how life works.”

  “It did for her.”

  “Did it?”

  I close my eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to buffer his words. It worked for her. It did.

  “What about your dad?”

  “Never knew him. My parents were divorced before I could even walk. And no, I have no siblings. My aunt and uncle who I came here with are my only family.”

  “Friends?”

  “Back in my hometown, but not in Albany where I’m living now. That will change once school starts in the fall. I’m transferring to the college where my uncle’s the head football coach.”

  “Major?”

  “Social Work.”

  “Employed?”

  “This reminds me of my college interviews, and no, not since last summer.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Hmm, what?”

  “So what do you do? If you’re not in school, don’t work, and have no friends...”

  “I reflect. I dream. I get angry about life. Fucking furious about life... sometimes... sometimes I drive to New Jersey to an area where a body was found. I spend hours sitting there, listening, watching, waiting.”

  His hands stop on my neck and my pulse thumps his fingers. I stay silent as he tries to get a grip on what I just said.

  “What are you waiting for?” he asks with care.

  “I don’t know... a change, maybe. A sign. A voice.”

  “Your mom?”

  “Yeah, my mom.”

  “Sorry.”

  My head tilts toward the glowing candles when a timer chimes. He helps me to an upright position, resting his hands on my upper thighs and taking a moment to stare. The corners of his lips rise high. I’m finding him more and more likeable—a guy I could see myself dating.

  “Five minutes to go.” He leans closer, moving my hair behind my ear. After wetting his lips and embracing the side of my face with his palm, he speaks soothing words into in my ear. “There’s a place I like to go at night. It’s in the woods behind the pool. Find me there around two. I want to introduce you to someone.” His hand travels down my torso, landing over my clit. The motion’s tender, causing my head to drop to his chest and a long exhale to leave my mouth. Damn it, it’s been such a long time, and I can tell he’s cautious, knowing he’s breaking Roxanne’s rules. “You fascinate me... I want to get to know other parts of you... sneak away with me tonight so we can have some fun together.” He steps back and raises his voice so she doesn’t get suspicious. “I have one last surprise for you before this ends. Please put the mask back on and get comfortable.”

  I recline and wait, lost in the thought that his dick was pressed against my body, and his hand was on my clit, all before experiencing the pleasure of his lips.
I want them, and I hope he notices I’m mimicking his action by wetting mine. I bet we can slip in a kiss without Roxanne noticing.

  “Again, don’t hesitate to tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable.” He traces my bikini top, placing a finger underneath the fabric and lifting it to my shoulders. I hold my breath, expecting his hands or lips to caress me. Craving him. Tempted by him.

  A feathery brush floats above my nipples, fluttering down to my feet. I’m intoxicated by the airy play and never expected to feel like a spoiled princess.

  “What is that?”

  “Honey dust. A powder that’ll make your skin glow, if it isn’t already. I’m applying it with a makeup brush.”

  “And I thought paying for this would be a mistake, but what you do in here... this... this is amazing. I’m so comfortable, with you and with my body. I can’t believe I’m on my back with my arms spread wide and my top off. It’s like I’m weightless, if that makes any sense.”

  “I told you, my job is to provide pleasure.”

  “You just never get to experience it yourself.”

  The brush pats my forearm, producing small tremors that shoot down to my toes. My waist drops and squirms in a hopeful rocking motion. God. I want to touch him. I want him to slide inside me. Forget his last name and his past. I want this man. I want us to fuck.

  “Did it work?” he whispers.

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you lusting over me? Do you have urges you can’t control?”

  “Quinn, room twelve,” Roxanne says, her voice coming from the doorway. “The next one’s sixty-two, her name’s Patricia. Paid for an hour and said she wants you to use your feet instead of your hands. Think you can do that?”

  “My feet?” He sighs. “I’ll try.”

  “And fix your hair, it’s a fucking mess from the pool. Clean yourself up.” Her steps fade as she heads back to her room.

  I’m so relaxed that I didn’t even try to cover my tits when she walked in.

  “Stay on the table for as long as you’d like. Take your time. Enjoy the scent of honey, the warmth of the room, and the sounds of the water. There’s no rush.” The back of his tender hand brushes my cheek. “Enjoy the rest of your night, Adlyn.”

  Chapter Five

  GRACE

  BLADES OF FRESH-CUT GRASS stick to my feet as I slog through the yard behind the pool. My pinky toe breaks free from my sandal and I twist my ankle on a pinecone while making my way toward the woods. I should’ve asked Quinn to be more specific. We’re in the Adirondack Mountains for fuck’s sake. Miles and miles of trees and brush, and he wants me to meet him back here? Where?

  I gaze upward at tall pines silhouetted by the moon, then back down toward the darkness of the forest. A mosquito bites my ankle while a second one buzzes near my ear. Dumb fuckers. I swat them away and unroll the cuffs of my jeans to cover my flesh. With my hoodie pulled over my head, I start my hike, looking for any sign of him.

  My cell’s flashlight app has a bright enough beam to keep me from tripping over any sticks or rocks, but it’s not helpful for seeing at a distance. I can’t scan the woods with it or use the damn thing for what it’s intended for... to call him. I don’t even know if he has a cell. I haven’t seen any of the workers here with one, which seems unusual.

  A dead branch breaks under my foot and the mosquitos have called out their entire clan to swarm my head. Bet they’re after my sweet honey-scented skin.

  “Quinn?” I whisper, checking the time on my cell.

  2:05 a.m.

  The temperature’s lower amid the trees, producing a cold, sticky moisture in the air. My hands and feet are chilly and decaying leaves have hitched a ride alongside the blades of grass. Soon my feet will resemble a squirrel’s nest.

  “Quinn,” I say louder.

  “Phweeeet,” he whistles.

  I tilt the light, seeing a dark figure ahead. He waves for me to follow, weaving in and out of trees before disappearing from sight.

  After getting scratches on my hands from the underbrush, and slipping on the vegetation covered in condensation, I manage to find my way to a clearing. The figure waits in front of small barn, sliding a double door open when I approach.

  My cell rises in his direction, revealing a handsome smile as he holds up two bottles of beer. He uses his foot to open the door further then motions to join him inside.

  I brush my feet free of debris while standing in the doorway. The building’s obviously used for storage, full of garden equipment—lawn mowers, rakes, and shovels—and upon further inspection, a bedroom.

  An army-style steel cot is alongside the back wall. It’s about the size of a twin bed and reminds me of the uncomfortable furniture in my freshman dorm room. A stack of books is next to it and a cardboard box is being used as a nightstand.

  “Is this where you sleep?”

  He puts the bottles on a workbench and takes off his shirt, turning his back for a moment. The red marks from the hose are still noticeable and make my heart ache. I’m sure his skin’s sore. And why isn’t he talking?

  “You’re quiet.” I walk closer and place my hand on his forearm, experiencing a strange shift in time.

  Life feels like it’s decelerating into half-speed. His turn is measured. An unhurried hand reaches to cradle my jaw, causing my lips to separate as I’m consumed by the desire in his eyes.

  Conquered.

  He leans in, his mouth barely touching mine... playing... flirting... it’s so affectionate.

  I rest my hands on his chest, feeling his tense muscles. We breathe deeper... louder... until my head starts to spin in expectation. A kiss. I want a kiss.

  His tongue grazes the outline of my lips, ending the curved path with a nibble and a tug. Such disciplined caresses cause my insides to melt. Shit, and that grin on his face. What a tease.

  “Fuck.” I take a step back and place my cell on the workbench. “That was the best non-kiss ever.”

  “I wanna show you something special.” He drinks while lighting a candle, acting nonchalant.

  “Answer my question first. Do you sleep here?”

  “Most of the time, unless it’s too cold. Employees have beds in the basement and can stay in the suites when guests aren’t around, but I enjoy my privacy and I like it better out here. It’s quiet in the woods and easier to read.”

  “And full of bugs.”

  “That doesn’t bother me.”

  He sets his bottle on the makeshift nightstand and stares toward the corner of the room. With a careful step on the plywood floor, and a finger gesture to remain quiet, I follow him in that direction.

  “Do you see her, yet?” he asks in a low voice.

  I shake my head and he leads me closer to a wooden antique box, the size of a small suitcase. Four Victorian era girls frolicking in a garden and the words FLOWER SEEDS are lithographed on top. I look further down and see brown fur partially hidden under twigs and clumps of dried grass.

  “She’s a peculiar cottontail.”

  “Peculiar how?”

  “I’ve seen plenty of snowshoe hares, but this is the first cottontail. And she should be sleeping underground. They burrow. I’d expect to find a hare in a nest like this, not a rabbit.” He motions for us to move away so we don’t disturb her.

  “So this is who you wanted me to meet? Cool. Can we pet her?”

  “She’ll freeze if she sees us coming, then she’ll take off into the woods if we get too close. I don’t like to scare her so I tend to let her be.” He sits on the cot, untying his sneakers to get comfortable. “So why weren’t you afraid to walk through the woods to meet a guy you hardly know? I’m surprised you came. Excited, yet shocked. You’ve got balls.”

  “No. No balls. I have fears like everyone else.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’m afraid of memories and the night... not the darkness, but having to spend time alone. And people tend to be alone late at night.”


  “Yeah, I can relate.”

  “I’m anxious during the moments before I fall asleep... I think too much and search for distractions. And I’m afraid of sleep itself—not knowing what I’ll wake up to the next day and whether or not the people I love will still be around... trust me, I jumped at the chance to meet a creepy guy in the dark woods.”

  He laughs. “So I’m your distraction for the night?”

  I give him a tight-lipped nod, looking back at the rabbit. “She must feel safe here,” I say.

  He pats the cot and I sit down, facing him cross-legged.

  “Maybe, but she’s alone. I’ve never seen her with another rabbit. Makes me wonder if she used to be someone’s pet.”

  I take another sip of beer, listening to the outside sounds of crickets while examining the room. The books next to the bed are how-to guides for giving great massages, with a handful of crime novels and one book on surviving drug addiction.

  “It was practice,” he says.

  “What was?”

  “I’m good at my job because of all the practice I’ve had, not from Roxanne’s books. They didn’t help a whole lot. I got better by paying attention to how people reacted to my touch. But I was awful at it the first month I got here.”

  “I’m sure the women didn’t care.”

  A breeze causes the barn door to sway and the candle to flame out, leaving us in the dark.

  “Nope, the women didn’t care.”

  My heart’s sprinting.

  “I’ll relight that.”

  “No, don’t.”

  I touch his leg, keeping him next to me. My fingers tiptoe to his knee... then higher... higher... a vigorous breath... holy hell, here we go.

  He moves forward, following my lead. Our lips meet and our depraved tongues swirl—at last, awakened from a dormant sleep. Fuck, it’s good. The man can kiss.

  We collapse side-by-side, our hands crossing one another’s bodies in an erotic chase. He bites my neck, making me whimper as I stroke his stiff dick through his jeans. My smile’s so wide and tight that my cheeks hurt... it’s the type of smile that reaches my ears... a smile that happens when I sense the moment’s so fucking right, even though my practical side tells me it’s so fucking wrong, but I snub the latter, not giving a shit.