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The Devil's Lair by A.M. Madden (1)


If you had said to me a few years ago that I would find and marry the love of my life, have a few kids, and watch as every band mate found and married the love of their life, I would have called bullshit. No way in fucking hell did the Jack Lair of a few years ago think any of this would have happened to any of us. Why would I think it? Speaking for myself, I wasn’t looking for it. I was living the fucking life. We all were. We were having the time of our lives. Our vision was limited, of course. We only knew what instant gratification felt like. We were twenty-somethings with a line of vision that extended to the end of our cocks. I stole that line from my wife’s friend, Lori, but it’s true.

Show me one good-looking rock star on the rise that doesn’t act that way.

What happened to the members of Devil’s Lair was an onslaught of mind-blowing events that none of us could have ever predicted. Fuck, Trey Taylor is married. If that isn’t mind-blowing, I don’t know what the fuck is.

Such is life, right? To always expect the unexpected, embrace change, and grow as a person?

I can honestly say grow is what we all did. We grew up. Sure, we still fuck around like a bunch of teenagers when the environment calls for it. For instance, when we are hanging out backstage after a show, coming off the high we always feel after performing. Gone are the random, meaningless hookups. Gone are the groping, touchy-feely groupies who would spread their legs for a smile. In their place are our wives, our friends, and our crew.

And I can honestly say we laugh harder. We don’t miss the debauchery we all participated in. We’re all fucking happy and most importantly thankful.

Leila and I thank God every damn day for what we have. We have plenty of money. We’re young. We are blessed with a huge support system of friends and family who would kill for us. We have two little perfect people that take my breath away on a daily basis. I suddenly have a lot to lose and don’t take one second of it for granted. It’s easy to get lost in it all. The fame, the money, the cars, and the homes make it all extremely surreal. Leila keeps me grounded. She is always giving back, generous to a fault. Obviously she ensures that her dad, her stepmother, her brother, and my family all have whatever they need. More importantly, she gives to strangers in need, children’s charities, art programs for schools…the list goes on and on.

She’s remarkable.

The more time we are together, the more she stuns me with her beauty, her kindness, and her ability to love completely and honestly. She makes me a much better person. It’s all her. She’ll argue that fact, going as far as telling me that I am the reason she is who she is. Prior to me, she was much more introverted, much shier. This Leila lives hard, loves even harder, and enjoys every minute that’s given to her. She says we make a great team. It’s the combination that makes a perfect mix. I’ll give her that. We do make a great team, two pieces, two halves, and two sides of a golden coin.

Her side is a bit shinier and a bit more vibrant. I don’t know how she does it all. Rock star, wife, mother, friend, daughter, sister, and even mentor are all roles she juggles effortlessly. We all see it. Everyone in her life is in awe of her, yet she’s the only one who is blind to her endless list of exceptional qualities. This woman can bring me to my knees with a smile. She can stop my heart with a kiss. She can swell my cock with a simple swipe of her touch.

The first instant I saw her, she took my breath away. Was it love at first sight? Hell no. I didn’t love. I lusted. I lusted after Leila Marino. The very first moment I saw her I wanted to add her to my long list of sexual conquests. She was stunning to look at, but she was also awkward, clumsy, and funny without meaning to be. She was adorable in so many ways. She was insecure in her talent. She was naïve in her experiences. The more time I spent with her, the more time I wanted to spend. My conscience teetered on the “should I / no I shouldn’t” debate for weeks. I was her fucking boss for Christ’s sake.

Thank fuck I ignored my conscience.

Once we connected, there was absolutely no reason for her to stay with me. Put aside my sordid past in regards to my sexual partners and lack of commitment, the argument that she was better off without me is an understatement.  There were two specific, nefarious acquaintances that should have sent her running.

My ex-girlfriend was the first of the two. She did everything in her power to break us up. That evil bitch tried to ruin us. Yet, Leila stood by me through it all. Even when we both believed her lies were true, Leila’s love for me never waivered. She had me believe it did by breaking up with me, but even then it was to protect me. Everything she did when Jessa was deliberately trying to take me down, she did out of her love for me. She did it to protect me. She put her own misery and anguish aside just to protect me.

Who does that?

My wife. My perfect, beautiful, brilliant wife does.

Jessa with her psycho-bullshit wasn’t even the worst thing we had to endure as a couple. Sure, Jessa wanted to hurt us, but only in the emotional sense. It was my ex-bass player, Danny, who actually tried to kill Leila. That moment when he took her from me physically and then later when he tried to take her from me permanently completely altered me as a person, more than any moment in my entire life. Even more so than when I became a successful rock star, or a husband, or a father. Those long, torturous minutes when I thought she was dead at his hands, left scars on my heart like nothing else ever has.

During those dark days, I realized I had so much to lose. So, just like my wife, I don’t take one minute that we are together for granted. She’s a gift that I will always be eternally grateful for, among many other things that I’ve been blessed with since meeting her.

My list is long.

I’m a lucky son of a bitch. Glancing around my plush, five-star suite at the Olivia Balmes Hotel in Barcelona confirms that fact. We arrived yesterday. This is stop number one on our The Devil’s Lair-Blow Our Minds World Tour. For the next five months, we are traveling around the world, hitting up twenty-five locations that most would kill to see. This is all amazing! It’s hard to wrap my brain around it. Our gratitude has been our good luck charm. The more grateful we are, the more we receive to be grateful for.

My wife says it’s all about putting it out in the universe and the universe answers. She read some book called The Secret where it details that theory. I don’t know if it’s all happening simply because we wished it. I sincerely doubt that it is. I told her so. All I know is that for whatever reason, people like us. Some say it’s our music and others say it’s our looks. Either way, they want to see us in concert. They want to buy our music. They are the reason that all this is happening right now. Because of them, we’re famous.

So, where my wife gives back in her own ways, I do so with our fans. I won’t tolerate any of us dissing them. We are stalked and it can get crazy scary at times, but whenever we can, I encourage pictures, or autographs, or even gifting random free tickets to our shows. For instance, we just arrived, yet news already spread that we’re here. There’s a cluster of fans out front, hoping to catch a glimpse of DL coming or going. Where most see it as a nuisance, I see it as the truest form of flattery. Therefore, I see to it that we gift several hundred tickets at every stop we make. If they already hold a ticket, I gift them with merchandise. They appreciate it. It’s the least we can do.

The only things off limits are my kids. I won’t be rude about it. I’ll politely thank them and leave with security surrounding us. Oscar now runs a very successful security firm and we are his priority. We always have at least one of Oscar’s men with us now. When we’re out with the kids, it’s security on crack. It’s not going to be easy acting the role of rock stars with toddlers in tow. Leila is stressing over it. I can’t blame her. What I can do is make sure every tour stop we hit contains all we need to make our time there comfortable. Success has made it easy to demand such things as the best hotels, or the corporate jet at our disposal, even luxury tour buses when driving is necessary. What our success has also helped with is to ensure Madden and Siarra have every single thing their hearts desire.

Our suite looks more like a daycare center than a rock star’s lair. Our nanny travels with us, but when we aren’t working, she’s off duty and reserved only for the nights we need a babysitter while out with the gang. Beverly is a sweet older woman who the kids adore. She has her own room, which Leila insisted on. My wife is determined to make the next five months of our lives as normal as humanly possible. I’m determined to ensure it is.

Where most rock stars demand their suites be stocked with Patrón, gourmet food, or massages at their whim, The Lairs demand toddler toys, baby monitors, and high chairs. The guys think it’s fucking hilarious, and it is. It’s comical what my life has become. I still wouldn’t change one thing, not even with the constant worrying or the exhaustion that we feel. I’d change nothing.

Traveling always makes me wired, and it takes me days to settle down. My family, on the other hand, crashes the minute we arrive at our destination. While my mind races with the events that will unfold over these upcoming months, the suite is quiet as Leila and the twins nap. She’s been so anxious to start this tour. We have no idea what to expect. Having had three successful U.S. tours gave us some perspective. I can only imagine it’s nothing compared to what we are about to face. It’s most definitely going to be intimidating, stressful, and exhausting. I’ll try to take one day at a time and enjoy the ride. I do know that we are going to need a vacation once this is over, alone…no one but Lei and me. I’ll kidnap her if I have to, and I told her so.

She sleeps peacefully beside me. Her chest rises and falls with each breath. Absentmindedly, I skim my thumb over her parted lips. She opens them at my touch. When her eyelids flutter open, I should feel guilty that I woke her…but I don’t. I may have changed, but there still is a lot of that selfish, horny bastard I once was deep down inside. I’ll make it up to her. We have nowhere to be, and our kids are fast asleep. When opportunity calls, I need to pay attention and bring her on board.

“Hey,” she says with a lazy smile.

I pull her closer, sealing my lips over hers. Her smile grows against the invasion of my mouth. “Can I help you?” she asks against my lips. She knows me well.

“Well, as long as you’re awake.”

“Hmm. It seems I am. Wonder how that happened?”

I shift so I am over her, aligned perfectly from head to toe. “Not my fault that you’re a light sleeper.”

She runs a hand through my hair. “You look tired, Babe. You should have been sleeping, too.” Her eyes are once again veiled with concern. She always worries about the kids and me. She worries about everyone but herself.

“You know it takes a while for me to get on a schedule. I’ll catch up. Are you upset I woke you?”

She shakes her head, smiling warmly. “No, I’m glad you did. I miss you.” Her comment makes me chuckle. “What?”

“I love that we both recognize fourteen hours is too long.”

Now it’s her turn to giggle. “Do you know the minutes too?”

“Fourteen hours and eleven minutes, going on twelve. Entirely too long to wait to be buried balls deep in you.” Her hand stills at the back of my neck, and a blush tinges her cheeks. I shrug at my comment, “It is.”

“You have such a way with words. You’re so romantic.” I know she’s teasing. I do try to keep romance in our marriage, but sometimes I forget and my cock does the talking for me. It’s not just about fucking and getting off. It’s about needing her. I need her surrounding me. It’s a necessity and I refuse to live without it, even for fourteen hours. I once promised I would tell her I loved her every day of her life. I’ve kept my promise. I also promised to make love to her every chance I can get. This is just me keeping that promise as well.

“You know I love you, Mrs. Lair.”

“I do.”

“I can’t help that Jack Junior lacks couth.” I press my hardness into her to prove my point.

She skims her hand down my body until it reaches Jack Junior. While leveling me with her gorgeous topaz eyes, she says, “Jack Junior is lucky that I love him as much as I love you.”

“Should I be jealous?”

She shakes her head slowly while saying, “Yes.”

“Tease.” I bury my hands in her hair, holding her head to hold her gaze. “I adore you.”

“I know.”

“Can I make love to you?”

She slips her hands into my briefs and says, “Babe, you never have to ask me that.”

“Well, I feel bad I woke you up and I…”

“Enough talking.” She kisses me passionately to shut me up. My minx of a wife takes control of the situation. It drives me fucking wild when she does. She knows it and uses that to her advantage. I would no doubt agree to anything she wants just from having her hand wrapped around my cock and her lips sucking on my neck, just as she is doing now. Can you say pussy-whipped? It’s true. I’m completely whipped. Trey is absolutely right.

She pushes me onto my back, skimming her hands down my chest and into the waistband of my briefs. As she shimmies them off, her lips slowly follow the path. A wicked smile plays on her lips when she pulls them off my legs and throws them at my face.

“Um, I was running this show. What the hell happened?” I ask as she positions herself between my legs, her fingers tracing my cock from base to tip. It jerks beneath her touch, practically begging for more.

“You lost it.” With that, she holds Junior in her hands and lowers her mouth over me. Her eyes never leave mine. Her smile never wavers. My moan tells her I’m at her mercy. If there was an award for best blowjobs, my wife deserves it hands down. She gives me the best head I’ve ever had, and I could definitely be considered an expert at judging.

Although this feels fucking fantastic, I force myself to stop her. I want to be inside her. I need to be. The kids could be up at any minute. I need my fix to get through the next stretch of time, not knowing how long that could be…carpe diem.

“What?” she asks when I lift her up onto my body.

“Straddle me.”

Without hesitation, she moves her panties aside to slide over my throbbing cock. My eyes lock on her exposed pussy as she accepts every inch. “Lei, I’m almost there. You need to hurry.” I skim my thumb over her clit to move her along. Knowing my wife as I do, she will and sure enough she does. It’s less than a minute later when she tightens around me and milks me for every drop I have.

“Oh fuck!” I call out a little too loudly.

“Shh, Jack. The kids,” she whispers, never breaking her stride. When she clamps her teeth down on her bottom lip, I know she’s there. She’s desperately trying to remain soundless while coming apart. I sit up, and the change in position causes her to gasp. The next puff of air is expelled directly into my mouth as I drive my tongue deep to stroke along hers. She clings to me, her fingers digging into the flesh on my back until her body relaxes.

“Mmm,” is all she says once she returns to Earth.

“Mmm is right.”


A smile spreads across her face. “You woke her up. It used to be me, now you’ve become the loud one.”

“You’re a bad influence.” She swats at my chest as she releases me.

“And you’re impossible,” she touts while pointing to my cock.

Of course I’m still hard. “Mind of his own, Babe.”

“Yeah, yeah. Can you grab her so I can clean up? Hurry before she wakes up Madden. And put on some clothes, please?”

“Yes, dear.”

I stand dazed as I watch her cute ass hurry into the bathroom. Siarra calling for her again snaps me back to reality. As I search for my shorts, she pokes her head out of the bathroom to give me a dirty look.

“I’m going. I’m going.” I can’t help but laugh at the look on her face.

The minute I slowly slide their bedroom door open, one look at me and my princess beams from ear to ear. “Dada! Dada!”

“Shh, Princess, you’re going to wake up your brother,” I whisper as I lift her out of her crib and quietly carry her out.

Madden can usually sleep through an explosion, so I’m not really that concerned. If he were the one up first, Siarra would most definitely follow. Madden has already figured out how to scale his crib and escape. The noise of his little feet hitting the ground wakes her up without fail. We now leave the side of his crib off, giving him an open gate to freedom. At home it hasn’t been a problem yet, he can’t venture far. It will be interesting being here in foreign hotel rooms. I predict my little man will be squirming his way between his mommy and me every night. He loves his mommy.

Siarra burrows her face in my neck, still drowsy with sleep. My response is to smell her head. God, she smells so good. She’s part baby smell, part Leila. It’s intoxicating. The heaviness of her body tells me she may have fallen asleep again.

Motioning with my finger over my lips, Leila nods when she sees me holding our daughter. Instinctively, my body rocks back and forth. It’s funny, I find myself doing that now, even if I’m not holding them. With my princess in my arms, I watch my wife well up with tears as she watches us from across the room. I just smile and shake my head, causing her to shrug. It’s a common occurrence, often making me wonder when the sight of me holding our kids will cease to make her so emotional.

Then again, I’m such a fucking hypocrite because the sight of her doing the same often squeezes my heart with overwhelming emotions.




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