Jet
The second book in the Marked Men series from Jay Crownover - a sizzling story of love, lust and longingWith his tight leather jeans and a sharp edge that makes him dangerous, Jet Keller is every girl’s rock and roll fantasy. But Ayden Cross is done walking on the wild side with bad boys. She doesn’t want to give in to the heat she sees in Jet’s dark, haunted eyes, but even his touch sets her on fire.Jet can’t resist the Southern Belle with mile-long legs in cowboy boots who defies his every expectation. Yet the closer he feels to Ayden, the less he seems to know her. While he’s tempted to get under her skin and undo her in every way, he knows first hand what happens to two people with very different ideas about relationships.Will the blaze burn into an enduring love… or will it consume their dreams and turn them to ashes?
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JET
Jay Crownover
Copyright
Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
77â85 Fulham Palace Road
Hammersmith, London W6 8JB
First published in Great Britain by Harper 2013
Copyright © Jennifer M Voorhees 2013
Cover photograph © Getty Images
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2014
Jennifer M Voorhees asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
Source ISBN: 9780062302410
Ebook Edition © June 2013 ISBN: 9780007536306
Version: 2014-06-30
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authorâs imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Ayden
Jet Keller was all kinds of temptation wrapped up in too-tight pants and with too many personal demons hidden in those dark, golden-rimmed eyes. He was every girlâs rock-and-roll fantasy, with an edge that made him just sharp enough to be hard to handle. And boy, oh boy, did I want to handle him in every way possible.
The trouble was that I was supposed to be making better decisions and walking a clean and much narrower path now. There could be no stops for the kind of things Jet inspired along the way, and no detours for the spontaneous combustion he brought with him. Unfortunatelyâor fortunately, depending on who was looking at the situationâit was a two-against-one battle, with my brain coming up short and my body and heart repeatedly overruling my better judgment.
Jet
Ayden Cross was a puzzle that, every time I thought I was close to solving, proved to have five extra pieces and no corners. For a long time, I thought she was a Southern belle, complete with mile-long legs in cowboy boots, but then she would turn around and do something that knocked me on my ass.
I had the feeling I didnât know the real Ayden at all. I would gladly spend the time it took to unravel it all, to undo her in every way I could. But I knew firsthand what happened when two people who had opposite ideas of what a relationship should be tried to force it to work. I wasnât up for that, even if she made all the parts of me that scorched and blazed manageable in a way no one else ever had.
So It Begins
Ayden
It was totally against everything I was supposed to be doing in my new lifeâto ask a really cute boy in a band to take me home. There were rules. There were standards. There were simply things I did now to avoid ever going back to being the way I wasâand sticking around to wait for Jet Keller was right on the top of the no-no list. There was just something about him, watching him wail and engage the crowd while he was onstage that turned my normally sensible brain to mush.
I knew better than to ask my bestie what was wrong with me.
She was all about boys covered head-to-toe in ink and littered with jewelry in places the Lord never intended boys to be pierced. She would just say it was the allure of someone so different, someone so obviously not my type, but I knew that wasnât it.
He was entrancing. Every single person in the packed bar had their eyes on him and couldnât look away. He was making the crowd feelâI mean really feelâwhatever it was he was screeching, and that was amazing.
I hated heavy metal. To me, all it sounded like was yelling and screaming over even louder instruments. But the show, the intensity, and the undeniable vibe of power he was unleashing with just his voiceâthere was just something about it that drove me to drag Shaw to the front of the stage. I couldnât look away.
Sure, he was good-looking. All the guys who Shawâs boyfriend ran around with were. I wasnât immune to a pretty face and a nice body; in fact, at one point those things had proven to be weaknesses that had gotten me in more trouble than I cared to think about. Now I tended toward guys who I was attracted to on a more intellectual level.
However, one too many shots of Patrón and whatever crazy pheromone this guy was emitting right now had me forgetting all about my new and improved standards in men.
