by Liv Morris
“Ow! Dammit that hurt!” I felt the hard chest behind me vibrate as the hand was removed from my mouth. I was not so far gone to recognize that the voice of my captor belonged to either Duane or Beau Winston.
Therefore I froze.
“Who the hell are you, and what the hell are you doing here, and why the hell did you bite me?”
I swallowed, tearing my lip through my teeth. My back was still to his front, my feet were still not touching the ground.
Tentatively, I asked, “Duane?”
He stilled, and I felt some of the tension leave his arms. Slowly, carefully, gently he set me down and turned me to face him. I could just make out a shadow of his features in the starlight.
“Jessica?” he asked, his hands on my shoulders. “Jessica James?”
“Yes. Yes, it’s me.” I swallowed my last word, my knees feeling weak as adrenaline left my body. I was so relieved. Despite our lengthy history of mutual dislike and his trickery earlier in the evening, my chest flooded with warmth at the sight of him. I couldn’t ever remember being so happy to see the outline of another person in my whole life.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and concerned.
Overcome, I lunged forward and threw my arms around him, burying my face in his neck. I knew I was behaving like a lunatic, but I’d spent the whole night thinking about him. I needed him to hold me; even if he didn’t like me, I needed him.
He shushed me, his arms coming around my body, his hand petting my hair. “It’s all right, Jessica. I got you now.”
I had no idea how much time passed as we stood holding each other. I know I snuggled shamelessly closer, eliciting a short, velvety chuckle from him.
And then, just as I was beginning to relax and decide what to do next, he surprised the hell out of me by saying, “Jessica, I have to tell you. I’m not Duane, honey. I’m Beau.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, but before I could react, before I distinguished whether what I felt was joy or disappointment, the screams started.
Part 4: Double Dare
~Duane~
I knew the exact moment I fell for Jessica James. I remember it clear as day.
Even though I hadn’t set my eyes on her for years, time and distance hadn’t dulled the memory. It just made her presence now in Green Valley feel fleeting, like she was slipping through my fingers.
I was sixteen. She was fourteen. I shoved her off a dock into the river behind our house. Instead of screaming or freaking out like a stupid girl, she grabbed my leg on her way down and pulled me under too, dragging me out to the middle.
I was in swim shorts, and she was in her Sunday school dress. While we were struggling under the water, she pulled my shorts down and off then escaped. She was the better swimmer, even in a Sunday school dress, seeing as how she’d been on the swim team since elementary school.
Jessica climbed onto the bank. Her blonde hair was wet, tangled around her face, down her back. Her white dress clung to her body making every young curve visible, and she took off. She’d always been real pretty, but so had lots of other girls. Spitting mad, I ran after her, not caring one lick that I was naked.
I caught her easy enough—I was the better runner—and tackled her to the ground. I pinned her hands above her head and searched them. They were empty.
“Where are my shorts?” I demanded, furious.
Her body shook beneath mine; she was laughing. She was laughing so hard she couldn’t hardly breathe, and I remember thinking she was beautiful.
Then she said, “I threw them in a tree.”
I watched her, again losing her breath to laughter, and I couldn’t stop my smile. “You threw them in a tree?” I asked, feeling a touch of wonder at her cleverness.
“Yeah,” she’d said, her smile wide and crooked, “you think being mean is enough. Being mean and being smart is better.”
That was the moment. That was when it happened.
I hadn’t noticed her, or any other girl, until I was nearly fourteen. By then it was too late. She disliked me. But she worshipped my brother. He didn’t see her, not really. Not like I did. I’d always liked her, but I fell hard the day she threw my swim trunks into a tree.
Presently, I was sitting on the edge of Bandit Lake, staring at the bonfire Beau and I had built hours before and feeling downright sorry for myself. I stood, shaking my head, and pushed the memory aside. I glanced at my cup. It was empty, and I was two vodka shots shy of drunk.
I was refilling the cup when Cletus suddenly appeared at the edge of the bonfire and gave me a fright.
He was a floating head, his body invisible. I was the first to see him, and he scared the butter off my biscuits. I inhaled sharply and jumped about three feet. He also made me spill the vodka.
“Dammit, Cletus!” I closed my eyes, concentrated on slowing my pulse.
Then one of the girls screamed. Then another. Soon they were all screaming. I sighed because they were irritating.
Cattle, I thought. It was an uncharitable thought. My mother would have been disappointed.
I opened my eyes, grinding my teeth, and set about the task of pacifying the screamers. “It’s Cletus, my brother. Tina, listen to me, Tina—it’s just Cletus.”
Tina’s screams continued until I covered her mouth with my hand; her blue eyes were wide and worried as she glanced from me to my older brother. When I was sure she wasn’t going to scream again, I took my palm away.
“Cletus?” she parroted, frowning. Her face was framed by a black and yellow wig; her cleavage was spilling out of the sexy bee costume she wore as she gathered gulping breaths.
“Yeah. It’s Cletus. Just Cletus.” I glanced at him. He wasn’t helping the situation by hovering just beyond the glow of the fire, his eyes eerily wide. I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. He really did look like a floating head.
The other guys had also stood, but were now shaking off the brief fright and moving forward to welcome my brother.
In all, we had about twenty-five people gathered, almost an equal amount of guys and girls. The bonfire had been Beau’s idea, and he’d promised to keep the party small. Twenty five felt like a crowd. The mood I was in, I would have preferred five or six…or one.
Tina wrapped her arms around me, giggling into my chest. She was two vodka shots past drunk, and she was pissing me off. “Duane, baby. Hold me, I’m scared.”
I placed my arm around her shoulders, mostly to keep her from falling into the flames and ruining everyone’s good time, and walked her over to a blanket. My plan to remove her from my person proved difficult, because she seemed to have grown two more arms. Each time I removed one, another three took its place. Too late I realized this was because she was now climbing me with her legs. She made my skin crawl.
“Come on, Tina.” I pushed her away, cursing my brother for inviting her in the first place.
Tina and I had been seeing each other on and off for going on six years until I’d called it quits once and for all four months ago. This was the first time I’d seen her since.
Looking back, six years with Tina was five years and eleven months too long. Sure, she was pretty enough, beautiful even. She had a free-spirited wildness that had been fun for about ten minutes. She also had the body of an exotic dancer—because she was one—and never lacked enthusiasm when we fucked.
But that’s all it had ever been—fucking.
And six years of fucking around was more than enough.
What Tina had in looks she lacked in sense. She was shrewd but ignorant. I couldn’t talk to her about anything, because she didn’t know about anything other than townie gossip, biker gossip, how to work a pole, and how to spread her legs.
Hell, I was ready shoot that horse four years ago. But she’d become a bad habit. She was easy and soft and persistent. And that had been enough to keep me from turning her away.
Until last July.
Until I found out from Jackson James that his sister was moving bac
k to town.
With a firm grip I finally succeeded in removing Tina’s claws, setting her on the blanket and away from me.
“Stay there,” I ordered, then walked around the circle of flames to greet my brother, throwing my cup in the fire. Tina climbing on me was incentive enough to sober up. I heard her call after me, but I ignored it. Two shots shy of drunk was where I wanted to stop, especially since I was still frustrated from earlier events.
“It’s me, your brother Cletus,” he said unnecessarily—as he was prone to do—dropping a canvas bag to the ground at his feet.
I felt my lips tug to the side. He was wearing a black turtleneck and pants; this explained why he looked like a floating head.
“Hey, are you sticking around?”
“Nah, just dropping off the supplies Beau wanted.”
I studied him. He looked cold. “You want to warm up next to the fire before you go?”
“Sure. Maybe for a bit.” He shrugged, glanced at the crowd. “Who are these people?”
“Mostly Beau’s friends.” I scanned several unfamiliar faces. “You know how he is, he has more friends than that tree has leaves. Some are from Merryville, a few came over from the Cades Cove side.”
I knew the moment his eyes found Tina because they turned mean. “What’s she doing here? You two back together?”
“No.” I said, feeling revulsion at the thought. “No way.”
He nodded, frowning in an atypical display of dislike. “Good, cause she’s a crazy bitch.”
I didn’t even have three seconds to register or feel surprise at Cletus’s words before Beau reappeared at the edge of the bonfire, drawing everyone’s attention to him and the girl he had tucked under his arm.
If Cletus’s statement had surprised me, then the sight of Jessica James pressed against my twin nearly knocked me flat on my ass.
Time slowed. I couldn’t breathe. My vision turned red. My throat and chest burned. I wanted to punch something…or someone.
“What the fuck…?” My thoughts escaped on a breath, and a deep, piercing pain twisted in my gut. Thankfully, only Cletus had heard my curse.
“Oh, yeah. Catastrophic engine failure.” Cletus lifted his chin toward Jessica as though Catastrophic Engine Failure was her name. “I’m taking her home.”
I turned my glare to Cletus and snapped, “What do you mean you’re taking her home?”
His stare narrowed, and he openly studied me. I hated it when he did this. When Cletus put his mind to something, he could see everything. I adverted my eyes but then instantly regretted it, because Jessica was looking straight at me. Images of her exposed breasts, her hot looks, bringing my hand to her flimsy panties played through my mind’s eye.
I swallowed so I wouldn’t groan. Again my gut twisted, again I couldn’t breathe. I fought to distance myself from her gaze, but she reeled me in. Jessica was so much more than beautiful.
I hadn’t wanted things to escalate backstage at the community center; that wasn’t my intent or my goal. It was a kiss I was after, a single kiss. I wanted her mouth on mine. I wanted the memory. With Jessica, I wanted so much more than fucking around.
When she’d thought I was Beau, her big brown eyes had been trusting, adoring. She’d never looked at me like that before. It was addictive. I wanted her to do it again. But my prospects were dwindling, slipping through my fingers.
Her skin had been soft, like a petal or silk. I balled my hands into fists and forced my mind to blank. Even so, my eyes were drawn to her lips. They’d always been a little slanted, higher on one side than the other. This imperfection only added to her appeal. It made her look like she was thinking about a private joke, like she was ready to laugh.
My eyes lowered to her neck before I willed them to stop. If I moved them any lower I would be thinking about her naked. I didn’t need that kind of torture. So I brought my eyes back to hers.
She wasn’t looking at me with trust now. I couldn’t read her expression, but it appeared to be founded in unkind thoughts.
I wiped my expression clean. I didn’t want her to see what she did to me. I was caught in her web. Worse, she didn’t even know that she’d caught me. And even if she had known, she couldn't care less.
These thoughts tasted bitter, and I regretted throwing away my cup.
“Everyone, this is Jessica James.” Beau announced with his usual effortless charm. He glanced down at her, and she removed her eyes from mine to look at my brother. He smiled. She returned it. I felt like I’d swallowed rocks. “Jessica, this is everyone.”
People waved. A few stood up to greet her. But I could only stare. I felt like I’d been planted, roots had grown out of my feet. I couldn’t look away. She was wearing a man’s jacket—I suspected Cletus’s by the look of it—but her long, toned legs were still bare to her thighs, and she had no shoes.
“I think we’ll stay for a while,” Cletus announced.
“Fine,” I said, realizing too late it sounded like a growl.
“Good.”
“Okay then.”
“Excellent,” he said, rubbing his hands together. He had the outward appearance of calm, bored even. But I knew my brother well enough to know his tells. Rubbing his hands together meant he was near giddy. My suspicions were confirmed when he added, “In fact, we should all play a game.”
I scowled at him, still wanting to punch something, and he was closest.
“Hey, Beau,” Cletus ignored me, stepping forward. “Duane wants to play Truth or Dare.”
I set my jaw, grimacing. Several people voiced their support for this terrible idea. Before long, someone had placed a cup in Jessica’s hand, the crowd was huddled together, and truths were being shared like STDs and unsolicited advice.
I withdrew to the edge of the group, sitting with my knees up and my elbows resting on them. I couldn’t help but watch my brother Beau with Jessica. It was like rubbing salt on a wound or shoving a hot poker up my nose. Each time she smiled at him was a knife in my heart.
She was sitting close; his arm was around her. They were laughing together. I wanted to gouge my eyes out.
Just when I’d had enough and was thinking about leaving, Tina turned to me and said, “Duane baby, truth or dare?”
She cast me a seductive gaze, her blue eyes flirtatious as she sucked on her index finger. It did nothing for me.
I shrugged and said, “I’m not playing.”
“Come on! It was your idea.” Tina pouted, appealing to the crowd.
I felt myself grimace as I ground out, “Fine. Dare.”
Most people chose truth, but I prefer dare. I couldn’t think of doing a single thing that scared me, and I’d never embarrassed easily. However, talking about myself in front of Jessica felt terrifying.
Tina squealed and clapped. She reminded me of a piglet. “Yay! Okay, good. I was hoping you’d pick dare. I dare you to come over here and kiss me.”
Someone, likely an asshole, called out, “I’ll take that dare!”
I tried not to gag.
My attention moved to Jessica. I don’t know why I did it. Some part of me, likely the asshole part that enjoys feeling like shit, wanted to see her reaction—or non-reaction.
But to my surprise, she wasn’t gazing at Beau. She was looking at Tina, and she was looking at Tina like she wanted to bury her alive. The intensity of her glare, the ice behind it, caught me off guard. Suddenly, kissing Tina didn’t seem quite so disgusting.
“All right,” I drawled.
Jessica’s eyes flickered to mine. Before she was able to hide it, I saw misery. And, if I wasn’t mistaken, I also saw jealousy.
Encouraged by the possibility that Jess might care at all about who I was kissing, I stood and picked my way through the crowd, then knelt in front of Tina. I had a decision to make.
I could give her a quick peck and move the game forward.
Or, I could kiss Tina like I wanted to kiss Jess. I could use her. I could exploit the situation and potentially push J
ess out of her comfort zone, hopefully provoking some response. Something to give me a reason to hope.
Decision made, I grabbed Tina by the neck, and I kissed the hell out of her.
Pretending Tina Patterson was Jessica James was like pretending tofu was steak. Despite the disparity in quality, texture, and taste, I soldiered on. I tapped into a hell of a lot of pent-up sexual frustration and had to restrain her hands when I felt them reach for my dick. Despite all this, I ended it artfully, with lip-biting and sucking flourish.
The crowd had made noises at first, egging me on. But then they grew quiet, and I heard a few whispered, Damn, that boy can kiss and I’m next and Remind me to use my next turn on Duane.
As soon as I finished, I lifted my eyes to Jess, and what I saw made my chest hurt. But this time, it was a good hurt.
Her glare was affixed to mine, her face was bright red. Her usual charming smirk was replaced with a deep frown. Beyond all that, she was giving me a hot look.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stood, holding her gaze, and leaving Tina dazed on the blanket.
“It’s your turn, Duane,” Cletus’s voice broke the silence. He sounded cheerful…for Cletus. “Pick anyone you want, anyone at all.”
I nodded, my eyes never leaving Jessica’s, and gritted my teeth in preparation for what I was going to do next. It would require courage, the kind that risks public rejection.
“Jessica.” Her name on my lips sounded too loud. I had an odd thought just then, that I should only ever whisper her name, and that she should always be close enough to hear it. “Truth or dare?”
Her gaze narrowed. Even beneath the thick coat she wore, I could see her chest rise and fall with her breath. To drive my point home, I allowed my eyes to flicker meaningfully to Beau. I hoped she’d interpret the movement as an implied threat to expose her feelings for him.
For the record, I would never do that. I would have to be a complete idiot to do that. If Beau had any idea, he’d be a jackass to let her go. Also, it would be a betrayal. I didn’t want to betray Jessica. I wanted to cherish her.
