by Jenika Snow
“You’re ours, Jessa.” Thayer kissed her hard and broke away. He was still thrusting in her, but they were slow, lazy.
“We won’t let you go, baby.” Deacon growled the words as he sank into her once more. Both brothers stilled inside of her, their erratic breathing matching hers. They had sounded so feral and animalistic, and she couldn’t help but picture a set of wild animals stalking nature on their hunt for their next conquest. She felt like their prey, and that they had their sights set on her.
Chapter Twelve
“Yeah?” Paul pushed the woman currently draped over his chest away and sat on the side of the bed. Balancing his cell phone between his shoulder and neck, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He gritted his teeth as his head pounded from the sudden movement. Clasping his temple as it throbbed in pain, the image of fierce Jessa charging him brought a grin to his face. So the little bitch had finally grown a spine? He couldn’t deny he found it extremely arousing.
“Um, is this the man who put the ad in the paper? The one looking for the missing woman?” The girl on the phone sounded young and a little unsure. It was just the way Paul liked them.
“Who’s asking?” The woman beside him groaned, and he pushed off the bed and stalked into the bathroom for some privacy. He had a hard-on, but not because of the naked woman lying on his bed. His was hard because the thought of actually finding Jessa after weeks of searching for her might finally come to an end.
“I—” She cleared her throat, and he forced himself not to snap that she get the fuck on with it. He wasn’t a man known for his patience, and this one really tested his. “My name is Rosie.” She hesitated before she spoke again. “The girl in the paper looks a lot like the one I saw in the coffee shop I work at. She lives with a man. He has a cabin there that he shares with his brother.”
Paul stared at himself in the mirror. Even after weeks of healing and the stitches being removed, it still looked like someone hit him with a fucking fireplace poker. So that little slut was shacking up with two guys? Well, looks like he’d just have to go and take his property back. If Jessa thought he would let her walk out of his life and hide away with some assholes, she must not remember his belt very well.
“How sure are you that the woman in the paper is the same one you saw?” He made sure to place a missing person’s ad in the local and a few of the surrounding cities’ newspapers. He didn’t doubt that someone was bound to recognize her. Besides, Jessa had been a homebody the whole time he had known her. She hadn’t gone far. That much was certain.
“I’m pretty sure, or I wouldn’t have called you.”
His reflection showed his flash of teeth at her smart ass comment. “You think you could show me where this cabin is?”
“I mean, why are you searching for her?”
Forcing himself to remain calm, he said, “She’s my wife, and I have reason to believe she has been kidnapped, possibly even hurt.” Her sigh of defeat let him know she believed his full of shit lie.
“Yeah, I can show you where it is.” A long pause succeeded his words, but before his irritation came through in his voice she spoke. “The reward you offered … is it really that much?”
He grinned wider. “Yeah, as long as she is safe and unharmed.” They scheduled a time to meet up, and he ended the call. Staring at himself in the mirror, he felt his cock grow harder knowing Jessa was within his reach. Her anger was like an aphrodisiac, and he wanted more of it. She hits him; he hits her. Their relationship could be so much more potent. He would punish her for the shit she pulled on him before she ran, but it would make them grow closer in the end.
He gripped his cock and stroked it a few times. What he really wanted to do was have Jessa here to slap around, maybe tie up until she begged him for mercy. A moan from his bedroom had him grinning wider. He may not have who he wanted, but he had a willing female in his bed, and one who was about to understand the kind of submission he really liked.
****
Jessa sat and watched the fire crackle along the logs. The newspaper was strewn across the ground, and so far what she had been looking for wasn’t there. Nothing was mentioned about a manhunt for her, and no mentioning of the FBI searching for a woman who killed her ex-boyfriend. After almost two weeks of looking through the paper, she started to feel a little bit of dread and relief. A part of her didn’t want to have the knowledge that she actually took a life hanging over her head. But there was another part of her that knew if Paul wasn’t dead then she was as good as dead. She tried telling herself that there was no way Paul would ever find her. Deacon and Thayer’s cabin sat in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the thick layer of trees and miles from civilization.
‘How you doing, baby?” She lifted her had from where it rested in her hand and smiled at Deacon. He wore a pair of faded jeans and a black Henley. His dark boots were worn and scuffed, adding the whole “bad boy” look authenticity. She pushed herself onto her knees and lifted her hand. Running her fingers through his dark faux hawk, she felt her arousal grow.
A low growl left him, and she found she positively loved that sound. “You’re insatiable.” He started lowering his head until his mouth came close to hers and she felt his breath tease her lips. “Wasn’t two orgasms enough?” She closed her eyes at the remembrance of what the three of them had done just an hour prior in the shower.
She didn’t question anymore the primal way he acted. It didn’t matter that she felt something wild inside of them, lurking and waiting to be released. Before their mouths could connect, Deacon pushed away. She opened her eyes to see the smug look on her face.
“Why do you tease her, Deacon?” Thayer came walking in, his blue eyes set right on hers. He bent down and cupped her cheek. His lips found hers, and he didn’t tease her as he thrust his tongue in her mouth. When he pulled away she felt drugged. “How can you deny her anything when she looks so delectable?”
Deacon chuckled, and she looked around Thayer’s shoulders to glare at him. “I like teasing her and seeing a rise come out.” His voice dropped to a deep growl. “It makes me hard to know she wants me as bad as she does. And when I deny her, it makes her that much wetter.” He inhaled deeply, and she found butterflies flying around in her belly at the sight.
She stopped wondering about the strange things they did and said. The way they inhaled, like they could smell her arousal, didn’t make her confused any longer. All she found was a deep-seated need. She also found it highly arousing at the way they spoke about her, calling her mate, and claiming she was theirs. It seemed so primitive and barbaric, but she found it comforting all the same.
Deacon’s smile started off small, but grew, as if he knew where her thoughts had gone. “You want to go into town with us, baby?” She watched as they grabbed their coats. It was strange how quickly she became comfortable around them. They had a routine, and it felt like it had always been the three of them. It didn’t make sense logically, but after years of living in the dark, she finally saw the light, and she wasn’t about to let it go.
Deacon admitted that the only thing mechanically wrong with her car had been the radiator, and he had gotten the part for that within a few days of her being with them. He had admitted to dragging his ass on getting it fixed, and she couldn’t help but feel her heart swell because of it. They had wanted her here from the very beginning, and she realized, deep down, she had wanted to be with them also. Nearly three weeks after he found her and she felt like she belonged, like she had a home. A heady feeling brought her to the brink of tears on more than one occasion.
“No, I think I’ll stay here and cook some dinner. You guys won’t be too long, will you?” She pushed herself up.
“Why, you gonna miss us?” Deacon’s cocky tone had her fighting her smile.
Snorting, which was so not ladylike, she walked past him to start dinner. Before she was clear of his path he snagged her around the waist and pulled her into his body. His arm snaked around her waist, and he dipped her back. He held her o
ff balance, but she knew his strength was immense.
“Don’t let me fall.” She said breathlessly as she stared into his eyes. She still saw some of that edginess behind his eyes. It was a presence inside of him that reached out, wrapped around him, and threatened to take him under. He still left for his runs, and when he returned, sweaty and exhausted, she showered with him, and the three of them went to bed. It was on those nights that Deacon clung to her, made love to her like an animal. He was rough, but in the good way, like he had been in the garage.
“I’ll never let you go, Jessa.”
She knew his words held more than one meaning. He kissed her deeply, giving her everything. It was just as good as Thayer’s, and made her toes curl. He pulled away and helped her now weak body stand upright.
“We won’t be long, baby. Just going to get a few supplies.” She turned to head into the kitchen and squealed when Deacon tapped her on the ass. His and Thayer’s chuckled followed them as they left the cabin.
An hour later the chicken simmered on the stove, the mashed potatoes were mashed, and the green beans were taking a boiling bath. She was back in front of the fire on her belly, scanning the headline news. Nothing stood out to her, but when she skimmed over the personals her heart stopped. Leaning in to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her, Jessa stared at herself. The picture was several years old. That had been during a time when she actually believed the lies he spewed. Her hands shook as she gripped the edge of the paper and lifted it.
Family seeking any information on the whereabouts of Jessa Taylor Malone. Jessa suffers from mental illness and can be unstable. She may be confused as to who she is. The family offers 5k for any information that leads to her reunion with her loved ones. Jessa may be confused and agitated. Five-foot-three and weighting one hundred and ten pounds, she has long dark hair and brown eyes.
She re-read the ad over and over again until every word became ingrained in her head. She wasn’t surprised that Paul searched for her, but surprise filled her that he offered five thousand dollars for information on her whereabouts. If she hadn’t skimmed over the personal section for all those weeks she might have seen it. She had been so focused and sure that she would see headline news on her being a murder suspect that she had never contemplated the lengths he would go to.
Tears filled her eyes, and she blinked them away. Paul’s cell number was listed at the end of the ad. Those ten digits made her tears flow harder and faster.
The paper crumbled in her hand, and she threw the ball in the fire. Black smoke billowed from the burning trash, and she laughed sardonically at the image. That was the story of her life: black and burning until there was nothing left. Part of her whispered that Paul wouldn’t be able to find her at the cabin, but the louder side of her said it was possible, especially when Paul was determined. The fact he claimed she had a mental illness and others should be wary of her had a hysterical laugh leaving her. The bastard was a sociopath, and she vowed he would never have control of her life again.
She needed to speak with Thayer and Deacon, needed to tell them what was going on, to warn them. If she left now she could make it into town before she missed them. Yes, she needed to leave now because who knew how soon Paul would come for her. Leaving them was not an option, not when she loved them. She stopped in her tracks and squeezed her eyes shut. She loved them, so much it hurt at times. She had no doubt in her mind the Uncia brothers could handle themselves, but Paul was the very devil himself and wouldn’t stop, no matter what. That was why she needed to tell them the storm that was about to descend upon them all.
She raced to the door and grabbed her coat, purse, and the keys to her car. Memories of her night spent between Thayer and Deacon washed through her mind. She let herself think about those times, about the soft moans, whispered words, and pleasure that brought her to the brink of heaven. A fat tear slowly slid down her cheek and collected in the corner of her mouth. All she wanted was for things to be simple, but of course life didn’t work that way. Hard, body consuming sobs wracked her.
After she put her coat and boots on she gripped the door handle and felt the cold seep into her body. She threw the door open and came face-to-face with the epitome of evil. Paul stood on the other side, his smile wide, his eyes filled with all kinds of crazy.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my little whore.” He flicked his eyes behind her, and a scowl took up his expression. “I heard you’ve been shaking up with not one, but two men?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “If you wanted two cocks I could have made that possible. Maybe shared you with some of my buddies?” The way he said it left no doubt in her mind that the thought of him watching her with his friends excited him.
The sound of her blood rushing through her body was deafening as it filled her ears. Her car sat in the garage. If she could make it there she could lock the turns and try to make a run for it. What she knew with certainty was if Paul got her in his car, she would not be able to escape. He would make sure that never happened again.
“Now, are you going to come home with me like a good girl, or do I have to drag you drag you kicking and screaming?” His grin had chills racing up her spine. “Because I’ll tell you what, Jessa, the idea of you screaming turns me on.” He held his hand out for her, and she eyed it. Just the thought of touching him repulsed her. She could see his SUV parked close to the garage. Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she slipped one of her hands into her coat pocket and felt her keys. She swallowed and placed her other hand in his. It took everything inside of her to keep the bile down.
“Good girl, Jessa.” His hand tightened on hers to the point that pain shot up her arm. “It’s lucky your little bastards aren’t here, sweet thing.” The way he grinned looked like a starving wolf in the darkness. “We’re going to deal with the little stunt you pulled before you left. He raised his hand, and she flinched. His laugh was low and deadly. He brushed the pale hair away from his forehead, and she could see the nasty looking damage the fire poker delivered. “You’re going to get punished for this, darlin’.” He pulled her forward so hard she stumbled and slipped on the slick ground. It was hard to keep up with him, and when he opened the passenger door and shoved her in, she knew she couldn’t let this happen.
She didn’t fight him as he pushed her onto the seat, but she was ready to bolt as soon as he started walking around the front of the car. The garage was behind them, and she had her keys in her hand. When he started to make his way around the car she knew this was her only chance. Adrenalin and endorphins pumping a mile a minute, Jessa threw open the door and ran to the garage. She knew he kept the side door open, and if she could get to it she could lock it once inside. The bag hanging off her shoulder fell to the ground in her haste to escape. Her breath sawed in and out of her, and she pumped her arms, trying to eat up the distance in the on the slippery ground. The sound of Paul’s curse and then the heavy fall of footsteps behind her filled her ears. Lungs burning, she ran because her life depended on it.
The spotlight over the garage showed her the way, but when she rounded the side the darkness cloaked it like the dead. She ripped open the side-door and slammed it shut behind her. Hands shaking uncontrollably, she turned the lock just as Paul threw his body against the door. A scream left her as she watched the frame rattle. Sprinting to the car, she fumbled with her car keys, before slipping inside and shoving them in the ignition. She could hear Paul slamming his body against the door. He called her every name in the book, and promised her he would beat her until she turned black and blue once he caught her. His words weren’t just a threat; they were a promise. The car purred to life, and she sent up a silent prayer of thanks.
“Shit!” She stared at the closed garage door and then whipped her head to the right. The door practically bowed forward as Paul continued to muscle his way inside. She had to give Deacon and Thayer credit, because their craftsmanship was sturdy and strong. The garage door opener was on the wall right by the freaking door that Paul tried to get th
rough. She knew she wasted valuable time, so pulling up her courage she darted out of the car and ran toward the opener. She knew she would have to be quick, because once Paul knew what she was doing he’d attack with a vengeance.
She reached out and slammed her hand on the opener, but just as she turned to make a mad dash for the car the door burst open, and Paul grabbed a chunk of her hair. She screamed and reached back as he tugged hard enough to have fierce pain slamming into her skull and her body flying backward. Her ass landed on the cement ground, and a burning agony climbed up her spine. Tears of pain, fear, and frustration pricked her eyes as she stared up at Paul. A dark look crossed his face, a look she had seen so many times. It was the expression right before he hit her. Bracing herself for the blow, she saw his hand swing toward her right before it connected with her cheek. Her ear rang, and floaters flashed before her eyes. She felt her lip split open, and then the tangy, metallic taste of blood filling her mouth.
“That was just a sample of what I’m going to do to you.”
Before he could say anything else, or move for that matter, two bright headlights filled the driveway. She felt the floodgates open up as she cried hard and powerfully. Deacon and Thayer were back.