Nothing Between Us by Roni Loren
Keats had pressed his fingers over her mouth, a tender, sad smile on his lips. “Don’t. Please. I get it. Let’s not ruin tonight over it. I’m going to be fine. I just want to be with you tonight and leave the rest of the stuff outside the door.”
She’d nodded and he’d cupped her face and kissed her. Kissed her like he wanted her. Kissed her like he loved her. Kissed her like it was good-bye.
And when all three of them had made love, she’d wondered if Colby had somehow sensed the cracks appearing in the foundation as well, because he’d left the kink to the side. They’d taken their time and had indulged in the freedom of touching and making each other feel good. It had been sweet and sexy. It had felt amazing. It had broken her heart.
Because in those moments, looking at the faces of the two men as she took them inside her body, she’d known that she couldn’t keep doing this—to them or to herself. They’d all broken the rules. They’d gotten attached.
And there was only one way to fix it.
It was time.
Georgia reached out and ran the backs of her fingers along Colby’s bearded jaw. He inhaled deeply and his eyelids fluttered open, dark lashes blinking over sleepy hazel eyes. He turned his face toward her and smiled a lazy smile. “Mmm, good morning, gorgeous.”
She drew her hand lower and let it linger on his chest, feeling his heart beating steadily beneath her fingertips. God, how she’d enjoyed waking up next to him these last few weeks. “Morning.”
He tucked an arm behind his head, his gaze tracing over her and becoming more focused. “Everything okay?”
She rubbed her lips together, hoping her voice wouldn’t shake. “I just wanted to let you know I was heading out.”
He turned his head to glance at the clock. “This early?”
“Yeah. I’m behind on everything. I need to . . . do stuff.” It sounded lame to her own ears, so she could only imagine how it sounded to his.
His brows knitted, and he reached out to take her hand. “You sure that’s all it is? You’re wearing your serious face.”
She tried to muster up a neutral expression even though her heart felt as heavy as an anvil in her chest. “I just need some time.”
Something flickered in his eyes—the ever-vigilant counselor not one to miss much. His voice was soft when he spoke again. “What kind of time, Georgia?”
Her lungs squeezed tight, and she let her hand curl into his. What could she say to this beautiful, wonderful man who’d turned her world inside out, who’d helped her find herself again? She couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t face the finality. She was such a fucking coward. She forced a facsimile of a smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back for Thanksgiving dinner. I would never deny you cheesecake.”
He didn’t smile back, but he didn’t push. He gave a little nod. “Whatever you need, Georgia.”
“Thanks.” She leaned down to give him a quick kiss, but when she moved to sit up again, he grabbed the back of her neck and tugged her down.
“We can do better than that.” He kissed her long and slow until she was breathless and on the verge of tears. Everything poured into the kiss—the need, the sweetness, the heat, the sadness. When he finally released her, her insides felt like they were folding in on themselves.
She swallowed back the tears that were trying to break free and climbed out of bed, a painful smile frozen on her face. She grabbed her jeans and sweater off a chair and tugged them on, her hands trembling so much that she struggled to get her button fastened. “Well, I better get going.”
He propped himself up on his elbow, the sheet sinking low on his hips, and gave her a long look. She took a snapshot in her mind, never wanting to forget the sight of him like this.
What they’d had was short.
But what they’d had was beautiful.
“See ya, Georgia,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers.
Good-bye, Colby.
“See ya.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
December
Colby sat in his living room, staring at one of the Die Hard movies on television. He hadn’t paid enough attention to know what the hell was going on, but the booming sound of things blowing up certainly fit his mood.
He flipped over his cell phone. No calls. Neither Keats nor Georgia had bothered to respond to his invitation to grab dinner together. That seemed to be the case a lot lately. They always had good excuses, but he wasn’t dumb. Everything had changed.
He wasn’t sure exactly how it had happened or what had triggered it, but he’d felt the shift as sure as the cold front that had rolled through overnight. One day, it’d been the three of them, having a good time, falling into this exciting, oddly comfortable relationship. Things were turning around for them all. Colby had his job back. Georgia had made massive progress with her anxiety. And Keats had landed a gig that excited him.
Colby could’ve taken a photo and labeled it perfect. But the moment had been as fleeting as the click of the camera. Because after that, he’d felt the tug of the inevitable, the unraveling. Georgia, who’d been so open and up for what they were doing, had pulled away—spending more time at her place in the name of making a writing deadline. She was still pushing herself to get out of the house, but she wasn’t asking him and Keats to come along anymore. And Colby’s bed had been cold since before Thanksgiving.
Then if the writing hadn’t been all over the wall already, Keats had come home one day with apartment brochures. That had really punched Colby right in the gut. He’d known that Keats couldn’t stay here forever. They’d done their relationship backward, moving in together first. And that had made things more intense and intimate for the start of something. Keats was a young guy who was just discovering a big piece of his sexuality. Of course he’d want some freedom and independence. He wouldn’t want to shack up with a guy in his thirties and play house indefinitely. But Colby had to admit, part of him had imagined that scenario. And he’d imagined Georgia in that mix, too.
The days he’d walked into his place and had both Keats and Georgia hanging out there, waiting for him, happy to see him, had been some of the best of his life. He loved the way being around them dialed him up to rattle-and-hum mode. It was like everything was sweeter when he had those two to share it with. And though he’d tried to convince himself it was just the amazing sex that was making him feel so damn good, he knew that was bullshit. Because some of the best nights he’d had with them had involved no kink or sex at all.
He liked being with them. Period.
No, he loved being with them. He loved them. Both of them.
And now he suspected he was losing both for good.
The sound of a key in the door drew his attention away from the TV. Keats hurried through the front door in a gust of frigid air and dry leaves. He shut the door with a bang. “Goddamn, it’s cold out there. Did someone forget this is Texas?”
Colby lowered the volume on the TV. “They said we could get snow.”
Keats slipped out of his coat and hooked it on a peg by the door. “I have no idea why George is so anxious to get back to Chicago. If it’s this cold here, I can’t imagine what it must be like there.”
“Picture this thirty degrees colder with wind that will make your bones hurt.”
“Fuck that.” He plopped down in the armchair across from Colby, looking windblown, red-cheeked, and damn fine in his dark green sweater. “You should use that in your argument to get her to come back here after the trial.”
He frowned. “I don’t think weather’s going to convince her.”
“You want her to stay, though, right?”
Colby sighed. “I do.”
“Have you asked her to?”
“No. She told me where she stood up front. It was her hard limit—no pressure, nothing serious. I’m not going to break my word on that.”
He blew out a breath.
Colby’s brows lifted. So that was what had happened. “I’m guessing she said no.”
“She said no to me. Not to you.”
“Saying no to you is as good as saying no to me, Keats. All three of us are in this together. Or were in this together. She’s got to want to be here on her own. And this is still so new to all of us. It’s a lot to ask her to give up her life in Chicago for that. It’d be a huge leap of faith.”
“And what if I weren’t involved?”
Colby frowned. “What do you mean?”
“George told me what she wants. She wants to get married, have kids one day, do the family thing.”
Colby sat forward. “She told you that?”
“Yeah. The day I asked her to stay. And I’m guessing that’s what you want, too. I mean, I know you’ve done this bachelor gig for a long time, but I’ve seen how you are with kids. And I see how you look at Georgia. You could offer her what she wants if she comes back and gives your relationship a shot. You’d make a great husband and dad, Colby. You know you would.”
Colby wasn’t going to deny that a big part of him wanted those things in his life. He hadn’t always, but at his core, he knew there was no going back to the way he lived his life before. He’d already put in his resignation for his position at The Ranch. Those impersonal hookups held no appeal anymore. But he also knew a triad relationship didn’t exclude the possibility of having a family. And he didn’t like where this was going. Keats had that look in his eye. “Why are you even saying all this?”
Keats pulled something out of his back pocket and set it on the coffee table. A key. “I got my own place today. I can move in right after Christmas. You can tell Georgia before she leaves how you feel about her. And that you just want to be with her. That will make her come back to you when she’s done with the trial. I know it will.”
Colby stared at the key, trying to process Keats’s words and logic, cold moving through him. “So you’re just going to walk away?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged, though he wouldn’t meet Colby’s eyes. “I mean, it was going to have to happen eventually, right? Three’s fun, but it’s not real life. Someone was going to have to step back at some point. You two can have what you want together.”
“That simple, huh?”
Keats plucked a piece of sweater fuzz off his jeans. “Yep.”
Colby’s teeth clenched, and he reached out and thumped Keats on the thigh. “Look at me.”
Keats, ever the good submissive, lifted his gaze. Something heavy sat there in those green eyes.
“So you’re ending things with me?” Colby clarified.
“It’s not like that. It’s just . . . you two are great together. Y’all don’t need me in the way.” He pushed his hair behind his ears. “Me being involved complicates things for no reason.”
Colby fought the urge to find his riding crop and snap some sense into Keats. “Is that right?”
Keats shrugged again—like it was no big thing, like it was a foregone conclusion.
Colby leaned forward, pinning Keats with a hard stare. “Keats, you listen to me because obviously you need to hear this. If you’re walking away from me because it’s gotten too serious too fast or because you want to explore this new side of yourself with other people or because you’re not ready for a relationship, then by all means, take that key and go start your new life. I wish you well. Truly.
“But if you’re doing this because you think you owe me something or because you think you’re in the fucking way, then pay attention to what I’m saying.”
Keats’s jaw flexed.
“I’m falling for Georgia, yes. If I could get her to come back and be in a relationship, I could see myself marrying her one day and having kids who have those pretty dark eyes and curls of hers.”
Keats closed his eyes like it made him ache to picture that.
“But outside of how I feel about her, stupid me has already fallen in love with you. The twenty-three-year-old kid who I should be pushing out the door because he doesn’t need to be stuck with some guy in his thirties who’s ready to settle down.”
Keats lifted his gaze and stared at him, expression going slack.
“So if you walk out on this, do it because you want to be free, because you’re not ready for a commitment, or because you don’t want to be with me. But don’t you dare do it because you think you’re doing me some solid. Because all it’s going to do is rip my fucking guts out.”
—
Keats couldn’t get his brain to kick in or his mouth to work. All he could do was gape dumbly at the man across from him. The man who’d just admitted he was in love with him. In love. Colby Wilkes loved him.
A thousand thoughts raced through Keats’s mind at once. What Colby wanted—commitment, long term, settling down. Those were words that should scare the ever-living fuck out of Keats. But somehow he couldn’t grasp onto the fear. After that afternoon in the kitchen with Georgia, he’d made an effort to separate himself from the situation, to find his own way. He’d started going out to clubs and bars here and there after work. Straight ones, gay ones. He hadn’t gone out to hook up with anyone, but he’d done it trying to wean himself off the intense feelings he was having about Colby and Georgia, to get a taste for what the single life would be like for him now. And to give Colby and Georgia some alone time.
But though he’d danced with beautiful girls and hot guys and had been flirted with, propositioned, and even kissed by one dude, he hadn’t been able to muster up any real interest. As he watched people play the mating game, he’d wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in bed with Colby and Georgia. He didn’t crave variety. He craved them. They felt like home. Maybe more than anything had in his life.
And Colby wanted him here. He wanted him. For real. Not because this was part of some fun threesome. Not because Colby was training him. And not because he was doing Keats a favor. Colby loved him.
Keats pushed to his feet, feeling as if he were filled with helium. All the heavy shit that had been weighing him down for weeks seemed to fall away. He grabbed the key he’d plunked down and walked around the coffee table. His pulse pounded at his temples, so many emotions running through him at once, but he managed to take Colby’s hand, unfurl his fingers, and place the key in his palm. Colby’s hand closed around it. Then Keats lowered himself to his knees.
All felt right in the moment. The restless energy that had been plaguing Keats quieted as soon as he was there at Colby’s feet. He lifted his head and met Colby’s gaze. “I don’t want to be free.”
Colby’s throat worked. “No?”
“No. I love you, too. So goddamned much.” The steel fingers that had gripped his chest for the last few weeks loosened, letting him finally take a full breath. “I’m starting to think I always did.”
Colby smiled a smile that threatened to crack open Keats completely. The guy could break someone with that smile. “So you’ll stay?”
“Looks like you’re stuck with your stray now. You should’ve never fed me.”
Colby shook his head and cupped Keats’s chin. “You were never a stray. You’ve always been a guy who needed to make his own way. I’m just lucky that you found your way to me.” He lifted Keats’s chin higher. “But maybe it’s time I get you a collar so that you never doubt again where you belong and who you belong to.”
Keats closed his eyes and breathed that in. His heart felt like it was trying to climb out his throat so it could hand itself to Colby. Goddamn, he was turning into a sap. But he knew what a collar meant in Colby’s world. No, not Colby’s world. Their world. “I would love that. I want to belong to you.”
And to Georgia. But Keats knew you couldn’t always get everything you wanted. He and Colby could be happy together. He would do everything he could to make sure of it.
Colby pulled back, meeting Keats’s gaze. “I think it’s time for bed.”
“I’m all yours, sir.”
Colby nodded, that steely dominance coming into his eyes—a look that made Keats’s bones liquefy. “Good. Because I’m taking everything tonight.”
Keats shuddered at the promise of what that meant, but it was pure anticipation at this point, no fear. Up until now, Colby hadn’t pushed Keats to move to that final step in the bedroom. He’d told Keats he wouldn’t fuck him until he knew Keats was ready. They’d touched, they’d played, Colby had used toys on him. At points, Keats had been so turned on, he’d begged Colby to take him. But at the root of it, he hadn’t been ready, and Colby had picked up on that.
Now, he had no doubts. He wanted to give Colby everything. He wanted to surrender it all.
They made their way to the bedroom, Colby’s hand on the back of Keats’s neck, and Colby ordered him to get undressed. Keats got to work as Colby disappeared into the closet. Keats’s eyes lingered on the closed curtains for a moment, wondering what Georgia was doing. He wished he could open them and see her standing in that window, looking down at them. She’d probably love this kind of show. Keats smiled to himself. Dirty, dirty George. Damn, he missed that woman.
He shook free of the wistful feeling and unbuttoned his pants. He couldn’t worry about what ifs tonight. What is was far too good to let anything spoil the mood. He finished undressing and set his folded clothes on a chair by the door. He’d learned the hard way that Colby didn’t like his submissive’s clothes thrown around the floor.
When Colby stepped out from the closet, he was rolling a riding crop between his fingertips. “I think we’ll keep it simple tonight, which isn’t to say it won’t involve some suffering on your part.”
Goose bumps pricked Keats’s skin. This was the part he might like best. Before this, he would’ve never thought of himself as a masochist, even though he’d always enjoyed getting his tattoos. But he couldn’t deny what a dose of pain did to him now. And Colby had gotten increasingly more aggressive in dishing it out with him. Keats knew Colby went a little easier on Georgia because, though she was generally up for anything, she didn’t seem to be a dyed-in-the-wool masochist. She liked the shifting power dynamics and the adventure of it all. She’d even had fun taking a little control herself. Somehow, Colby seemed to instinctively know what each of them responded to best and set it up to provide maximum enjoyment for them all. He wasn’t a one-size-fits-all dominant.