Licentious

Home > Other > Licentious > Page 1
Licentious Page 1

by Jen Cousineau




  LICENTIOUS

  A NOVEL

  JEN

  COUSINEAU

  Copyright © 2014 Jen Cousineau

  Licentious

  By Jen Cousineau

  AISN: TBD

  Formatting and Editing by

  Rogena Mitchell-Jones Manuscript Services

  Cover Design by

  Kari Ayasha of Cover to Cover Designs

  Cover Photo Credit:

  http://www.123rf.com/profile_jalephoto

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights.

  All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  The author and editor have taken great effort in presenting a manuscript free of errors. However, editing errors are ultimately the responsibility of the author.

  Contents

  Playlist

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Epilogue

  Note from the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Coming Soon

  About the Author

  Connect with Jen

  Playlist

  Bad Things by Jace Everett

  Human by Christina Perri

  Can’t Breathe by Leona Lewis

  Over You by Miranda Lambert

  Beam Me Up by P!NK

  Slipped Away by Avril Lavigne

  All of Me by John Legend

  Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran

  Hey Brother by Avicii

  Angel by Sara McLachlan

  The Great Escape by P!NK

  I Won’t Give Up by Jason Mraz

  Say Something by A Great Big World & Christina Aguilera

  Let Her Go by Passengers

  Searchlight by Phillip Phillips

  Bennie and The Jets by Elton John

  Breath of Life by Florence and the Machines

  Breathe Me by Sia

  Demons by Imagine Dragon

  The Monster by Eminem & Rhianna

  Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men

  Lemme See by Usher & Rick Ross

  Slow and Steady by Of Monsters and Men

  Stay by Rhianna

  God Gave Me You by Blake Shelton

  Click here to listen to the Author’s Playlist for Licentious.

  Licentious by Jen Cousineau

  To true love.

  Licentious līˈsenSHəs/

  1. lacking legal or moral restraints; especially: disregarding sexual restraints

  2. marked by disregard for strict rules of correctness

  Prologue

  I never had a mother. Well, technically, I do, but in reality she’s a total bitch who couldn’t remember to take a pill regularly, and… well, here I am. Surprise!

  I love my Dad, though. He tries his hardest to make up for my mother lacking on all levels. My brother, Aedan, is seven years older than my sister Eve, and I, but he’s never treated us as ‘annoying little sisters.’ In fact, if you take my Mom out of the equation, we’re a tight-knit family who truly are best friends. Cliché? Maybe. But, fortunately, for us it’s pure truth.

  I wish I could tell you my life is all rainbows and butterflies, but then I’d be giving you complete bullshit. One dream. My dream broke everything. It destroyed my family, my best friends. It destroyed me. It tore me down, causing me to defend myself the only way I knew how. I just simply stopped caring. Until I met a man who tried to change all that I felt. Until he believed in me, to make me see how beautiful life can be if I just let life in. I started to believe. He helped me see what I was missing, that is until I discovered who he really was. How dark and dangerous he truly was. How believing in him meant turning my back on everything that I believed in.

  I won’t promise you butterflies and rainbows. Shit, I won’t even promise you a happily ever after, simply because I don’t even know how this is going to end.

  I’m Joey. Welcome to my hell.

  Chapter One

  Nine Years Earlier

  “So… what’s the plan for tonight?” Eve asks me. I spare a glance at her and see her bright, cerulean blue eyes twinkling and her smile showcasing her deep dimples.

  “Well… there’s this contest…” I start to tell her. I really hope she’s game for it. It’s our eighteenth birthday today and being that it’s a Friday, we don’t have school tomorrow—works perfectly. The only downfall is if she doesn’t want to go. I mean, it’s our eighteenth birthday. It’d be wrong to not celebrate it together. We’re best friends, in spite of being sisters. Identical twin sisters. Maybe it’s selfish of me, but this could be it. This could be the break I need to make my dreams come true.

  “Hello! Earth to Joey!” Eve is nearly yelling beside me, making me jump back to reality. I hear cars honking from behind me.

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m going,” I mutter. “Sorry, I zoned,” I tell her and then going back to our conversation.

  “So what contest? And why didn’t I hear about it before now?” she asks me as she takes out her file for her nails from her peach Coach purse that Daddy gave to her last night for her birthday.

  “Well, it’s a songwriting competition. All participants have to be eighteen to enter, and they have to perform their own songs. Music and all,” I tell her as I start to chew on the corner of my bottom lip. A nervous habit I picked up years ago. I don’t like performing. I’m talented and gifted with a decent voice, but the idea of doing it in front of a crowd of people makes me want to vomit. I just want to write music.

  “Tonight? Hell, yeah, baby! This could be it, Joey! I mean, like, it it,” she shrieks as she starts bouncing in her seat like an excited toddler.

  “Jesus, Eve, simmer down.” I laugh. “Yes, tonight. And I know. Trust me, I know.”

  “Oh, Joey, don’t be nervous. You’re incredibly talented! Your music is amazing, and you may not believe it, but you really do have a beautiful, soulful voice,” she tells me as she pets my head as if I’m a dog.

  I roll my eyes at her as I swat her hand away from me. “Thanks,” I mutter and then turn left down our road leading home.

  “So where’s it at?” She beams. “Can we drink?”
r />   “You can since we have a fake ID, but if I’m registering for the contest, I want it all to be legit. So… I’ll be just your average eighteen-year-old underage in the club,” I roll my eyes regretfully. “It’s at Monsoon.”

  “Well, being that you’ll be eighteen, and we’re identical and all, I doubt they’ll buy the fake.” She pouts and crosses her arms over her chest and slumps down in her seat.

  Now I feel bad. I knew this would be a deal breaker for her, but can I really pass up this opportunity? I mean, this could be it.

  I pull into the driveway and turn the key to shut off the engine. Unbuckling my seat belt, I turn toward her and wrap her hands in mine.

  “Eve. The winner of this contest wins three guaranteed meetings with the top three music labels in the industry, $10,000, and the song they perform will be bought by the top leading label. Bought, Eve! Please, Eve.” I start to beg, “Please don’t make me pass this up. I promise, as soon as the contest is over, we’ll take our fakes and go party somewhere else that we can use them. You can call the shots for the rest of the night. Please, Eve.”

  A huge grin spreads across her face. “Deal!” She giggles before flying out of the car and practically running inside. Following her lead, I sigh and get out of the car. As soon as I walk through the door, I stop in my tracks as I take in the current reprimand that’s happening now. Never fails. I shut the door behind me and make my way to the middle of the living room to stand beside my sister.

  “So nice of you to join us, Josephine,” my mother snarls. “As I was telling Evelyn, there is a list of chores for the both of you to accomplish. We are having friends over for a barbeque tomorrow. I expect the list to be completed by tonight and for both of you to be present and well rested tomorrow.”

  “Um, you do realize that it’s our birthday, right?” Eve snaps with disgust clouding her face.

  “And? You live in this house, my house,” she starts to yell, “you each have responsibilities for being in this family.

  “It’s our eighteenth birthday! We don’t have to listen to you anymore,” Eve fires back. Anger flushes her cheeks.

  “If you don’t like it, then pack your bags and leave. But,” she hisses as she stands from her seat on the ugly 70’s style paisley sofa, “if you decide to stay, you will abide by my rules.”

  “Then why doesn’t Aedan ever have to?” I cut in, forcing my anger down and my keeping voice soft and steady.

  “Because Aedan is a grown man with a full-time career with the police department, who basically only sleeps here, she replies sternly, but sadness clouds her coffee colored eyes.

  “Whatever,” Eve sighs as she rips the list from our Mother’s hands. “But you know, Mom, a ‘happy birthday’ would be nice to hear. At least once!” she says as she turns for the stairs that meet the front entryway.

  I turn to follow just as Mom stops us as bitterness laces her voice.

  “And what? I suppose you’d want a birthday cake, too? You girls have enough trouble keeping your figures. If it were up to me, you’d never be allowed sweets of any kind. And your father definitely wouldn’t be taking you out every year the night before your birthday for dinner. Empty calories are all that is. The one hour of daily exercise I require of you both definitely is not enough,” she rolls her eyes. “You’re dismissed.” She purses her lips and waves her hand as if we are trash.

  Bitch. I roll my eyes and lightly shove Eve to make her move up the stairs leading to our room. My Mom has always been like this. As far as I know, she’s hated Eve and I since she found out she wasn’t carrying boys. Our bodies are never good enough. Our talents are worthless to her. Our grades are never good enough, even if we have straight A’s. We aren’t pretty enough. Basically, we aren’t good enough. I don’t know what we ever did for her to hate us, but it royally pisses me off.

  My father, on the other hand, I love dearly. He tends to be bitched at by Mom a lot when it comes to us. Sometimes he cowers and gives in, and other times, he stands up for us to her. Eve and I are both total daddy’s girls. Always will be.

  “God, she’s such a bitch!” Eve vents as she throws her backpack on her bed before flopping down beside it. We live in a remodeled cape-cod home with four bedrooms and four baths if you include the remodeled basement. Eve and I share the upstairs as our own little sanctuary. We could revamp the floor to give us each our ‘own’ space, but what for? We are together all the time anyway.

  “And you’re just realizing this now? Really, Eve?” I ask her as I make my way over to set my bag next to the foot of the bed. I take off my shoes and start to strip my clothes to change into my workout gear.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Joey?” she asks me in disgust.

  “Um… we have an hour workout to complete and that stupid Cinderella chore list. I can’t miss tonight, Eve. So get up, let’s do this.” I spin toward her, place my hands on my hips, and shoot her my most determined look I can muster up.

  “Joey. We. Are. Eighteen. That means we don’t have to work out,” she reminds me.

  “Yes. I know technically we don’t have to, but do you have a place for us to stay when she decides to kick us out?”

  “No. And we don’t need to. You know Dad won’t allow her to kick us out,” she says without doubt.

  “I hope not,” I mutter.

  “Let’s get ready for tonight. We’ll talk to Dad when he gets home, okay?” she asks as she places her hands on my shoulders. “Okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah. All right.” I sigh.

  Chapter Two

  Eve and I are both jammed into our tiny box of an en suite to finish the final details of our look. Eve went all out wearing a skin tight, form fitting, deep red bondage dress with a V neckline and off the shoulder straps, the hem hitting mid-thigh. She curled her shiny black hair and left it loose to cascade down her back and shoulders. She went with a dark smoky eye to maximize our cerulean blue eyes and paired the look with a red lip gloss to match her dress.

  I decided to stick to being me, and dressing it up just a tad. I chose to wear a dark red tulip skirt hitting mid-thigh, and paired it with my black lace capped sleeve tee and a pair of black suede booties. I left my long, black hair straight and down and kept my makeup to a minimum with a light smoky eye and nude lip gloss with just a hint of bronzer to accentuate my cheekbones.

  I just finished clasping the white gold Celtic cross diamond necklace that my dad, Aedan Sr. and my brother, Aedan Jr. gave me last night during our birthday dinner celebration. He and my brother Aedan went in on our gifts together this year. I have to say, they did good!

  A loud whistle sounds from the bedroom forcing our attention from the mirror.

  “And where do you ladies think you’re going?” my father asks as he crosses his arms and fights the smile that threatens to cross his face. My dad is mostly an Irishman, but since he was born and raised here in the states, unfortunately, there isn’t a hint of an accent. He’s a tall, pale man with balding blond hair. Eve, Aedan, and I have all repeatedly tried to talk him out of the ‘comb-over’ but failed at every attempt. He just isn’t ready to let go and grasp the idea of not having hair. I personally think he should rock that shit.

  Eve and I look mostly like mom, Alannah. We’re tall with thick, straight black hair, naturally tan and curvy, with heart-shaped faces, straight nose, and a small but full pout. We’ve never been ‘fat’, but we were never the societal ‘skinny’ either. Fit and curvy. The way we should be. Even though we resemble Mom so much, we do get some of our best features from Dad. Like his cerulean blue ‘doe eyes’ and his dimples. Whereas Aedan is almost a spitting image of Dad, he did inherit Mom’s coffee brown eyes and naturally bronzed skin.

  “Hey, Dad!” Eve says slyly as she glides to stand next to him before wrapping her thin, sculpted arms around his midsection. “How was work?”

  “Hi, princess, and good. You’re not really… wearing that, are you? I mean, out in public. Where men will see you?” he asks nervously. He kno
ws that this is what we plan to wear, but I don’t think he’s ready to see us as ‘all grown up’ yet.

  “Yes, Daddy. We are planning to wear this. Not to change the subject, but we need to talk to you,” she says sweetly as she leads him to my bed, sits down, and pats the empty spot next to her.

  “Uh, oh. This can’t be good,” he says softly, running a hand over his face as he sits down next to Eve.

  Joining on his other side, I decide to start it off. “Mom’s acting like a bitch again,” I say quietly.

  “Joey, it’s not nice to call anyone, especially your mother, a bitch,” he scolds. Exhaling, he continues. “What’d she do now?”

  “Well, besides calling us fat, again, she gave us a huge chore list when we got home from school. And it has to be done by tonight for her stupid barbeque tomorrow,” Eve whines. “Daddy, it’s our birthday!”

  “I understand that being a part of this family means that we have to help out, but Dad, it’s not fair that she makes us do everything, and Aedan never has to lift a finger. He’s her golden boy, and we’re her flippin’ Cinderella,” I vent.

  “Tell me what your plans are for tonight?” he asks.

  “Dad, are you even—”

  “Tell me what your plans are,” my dad says sternly, cutting Eve off.

  “There’s a songwriting contest tonight at Monsoon. Each participant in the contest has to perform their own songs and music. I’m entering. I refuse to miss it, Dad,” I tell him slightly shaking my head.

  “A songwriting contest, huh?” he asks. “What does the winner get?”

  “$10,000!” Eve nearly shouts.

  “And,” I laugh, “the song the winner performs will be bought by the leading record label in the industry, and they’ll be guaranteed a meeting with three of the top labels in the country.”

  “Wow. And you’re confident that you’ll have the guts to actually perform?” he teases.

 

‹ Prev