Nothing Between Us by Roni Loren
“Want me to go in with you?”
He leaned back in his seat and turned to look at her. “George, I can’t ask you to do that. My dad can be ugly and angry and mean. I’ve already asked you to do too much by dragging you so far from home.”
She peered at the house, then turned back to him. “I want to go with you. You and Colby have backed me up when I’ve had to face difficult things. Let me back you up for this. I’ll be more worried sitting out here.”
He blew out a breath. Part of him wanted to tell her no, to handle it on his own because God knows he didn’t want Georgia to see the version of himself that his dad brought out in him. But the other part was damn relieved to not be facing it alone. Because he didn’t get scared of much. He’d taken on much bigger guys in fights and hadn’t flinched. But there was something about facing his father that made him feel helpless and small again.
He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the top of it. “Thank you, George.”
“Anytime,” she said, that warm smile giving him the last burst of confidence he needed.
“Okay, let’s do this.”
They climbed out of the car and made their way to the door. The grass needed to be cut. His dad would’ve never let him get away with letting it go this long. Get your ass out there and clean that yard up. Can’t you do anything useful? Keats had a moment of panic right at the last second, hearing that familiar angry voice rattle through his head, but managed to lift his hand and knock. Seconds passed, and Keats began to wonder if they’d gotten the wrong house or if maybe his dad was at work. But right when he was about to turn away, he heard heavy footsteps on wood floors. Keats’s spine went stiff.
The door swung open and all the breath rushed out of him.
The man on the other side was still broad and intimidating in size, but his blond hair had grayed at the temples and there were more lines in his face than Keats remembered. His dark eyes met Keats’s, and Keats couldn’t move. His father blinked rapidly a few times, his attention shifting between Keats and Georgia. But when his gaze settled back on his son, Keats knew that his dad recognized him.
Keats’s throat felt like a fist was closing around it. “Hi, Dad.”
His father coughed, though it sounded more like a horse chuffing, and glanced back over his shoulder like he was considering shutting the door and walking away. Finally, he looked back to Keats. “What are you doing here?”
The question didn’t sting as much as it probably should’ve. Keats hadn’t exactly expected a warm reunion. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
He made a sour face, looking fully put-upon by their presence. “Do you need money? Because it’s not like I have—”
“Excuse me,” Georgia said primly, stepping forward from where she’d been hovering behind Keats. “Did you ask him if he’s here for money? You just found out your son is okay and alive and that’s your first question?”
“George,” Keats said, reaching out to touch her elbow. “It’s fine.”
“No, excuse me,” his father said, narrowing his eyes at Georgia. “But I don’t know you and you’re on my porch. I can ask damn well what I want. And if my son didn’t bother to find me for the last however many years it’s been, then why should I think he’s looking me up for any good reason now?”
Nice. His father didn’t even know how many years it’d been since Keats had left. Glad he was so concerned.
“Well, most people would be happy to know their kid is alive,” Keats offered in Georgia’s defense.
His father’s lip curled. “I knew you were alive. They told me when you went to the cops.”
“What?” That punched the starch out of Keats. “They told you?”
“Yeah, I told them you owed me my best gun and the money you stole from me, but they didn’t do a damn thing about it.”
The news that his father hadn’t bothered to come look for him shouldn’t have surprised Keats. Alan Keats wasn’t the kind of man who chased. He would’ve been waiting for Keats to crawl back and admit he couldn’t make it on his own.
That was probably what he thought this was. Keats coming back to admit defeat and ask for help.
“Can we come in?” Keats asked, holding his ground.
“Why?” his father groused.
Georgia made a little noise of disbelief, and Keats almost smiled. She was kind of cute when she was pissed on his behalf.
“We need to talk. It’s not about money. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
His dad didn’t look pleased at all. “And who is this, anyway? I don’t let strangers in my house.”
“This is Georgia, my—”
“His girlfriend,” Georgia said, taking Keats’s hand and surprising the hell out of him.
His father’s heavy eyebrows shot up. “You into women now?”
Keats knew that Georgia was posing as his girlfriend to help him out, to let his dad see he was wrong about Keats’s preferences. But Keats found that he no longer gave a shit what his father did or didn’t think. “I date both.”
His father’s face twisted in disgust. But he opened the door and let them in, muttering to himself the whole way.
The house was simple on the inside, utilitarian. His father had never had much of an eye for nice things. It was as if he wanted to live his life like he was still in the Marines—neat corners and neutral colors.
They all sat in the living room, his dad in a worn brown recliner and he and Georgia on the couch. The room had a stale smell, like microwaved soup and faded Pine-Sol. Keats had the intense desire to be anywhere but there.
But the urge to leave wasn’t about fear anymore. As Keats watched the man sitting across from them, he no longer saw the larger-than-life football coach who could make him cower with his booming voice and intimidating presence. Instead, he saw an aging man with a toxic personality in a lifeless house. A man who didn’t know how to love anyone.
Maybe his father had been different once upon a time. Keats’s mom had died when he was three, so he didn’t really know if his dad had loved her. But whatever the case, this man was a bitter and miserable person now and would die that way. So Keats could only muster up one emotion for his father now—pity.
“So what is it you want?” his father said finally. “I don’t have all day.”
Keats’s anger flared at that, all that resentment bubbling to the surface. “I want you to shut your mouth and stop lying to lawyers about Colby Wilkes.”
“Now, wait just a minute,” his father said, leaning forward. “If you think you can walk in here and talk to me like that—”
But Keats wasn’t going to stop. He’d shut up at his father’s request too many times. “No, you need to hear this. You have no business stirring up shit for Colby. That lawyer is grasping at straws and you know it. Colby Wilkes never did anything wrong to me.”
“Right. ’Cause two gays hanging out after school every day was all about the guitar lessons. That school needs to own up to its negligence.”
Keats’s fists balled against his thighs. “Are you serious? Is that what this is about? You’re trying to get a court case going for yourself?”
“They put that man in charge of children and look what happened.”
Un-fucking-believable. This was about money? Keats had read in the news stories after he went missing that his father had threatened to bring a suit against the school, but there hadn’t been enough there for him to go through with it. Now the guy was looking for a new angle. “Colby Wilkes was the only decent adult I knew back then. I sure as hell couldn’t count on you.”
“He put those disgusting ideas in your head.”
Keats scoffed. “You think he turned me bisexual? Come on, Dad. Even you can’t be that dumb.”
“I’ve heard enough. I won’t be insulted in my own home.” His dad’s voice was going in
Keats quickly glanced at Georgia to make sure she was okay and not getting panicky. But he shouldn’t have worried. Her jaw was set, her eyes blazing with anger. She looked ready to take down his father on her own.
“I’m not leaving until you promise to drop the thing with the lawyer. Tell him that I came to talk to you and that if he has any questions about what happened, he can call me. I’ll tell him the truth. I had a crush on Colby. But he never crossed a line. And when I tried, he turned me away.”
His father stood. “You have some nerve coming here and ordering me to do anything. Get out of my house, Adam. And don’t bother me with this shit—”
“Adam?”
The voice came from somewhere behind Keats, and he swung around. Georgia turned with him. The shocked face that greeted Keats made him lose all his gumption. “Justin.”
Keats’s brother stood frozen in the doorway, leaning on crutches. Keats’s gaze traveled down to the spot where Justin’s right leg used to be. His pant leg was neatly folded up at the knee joint. There was nothing below it anymore. Jesus.
“Adam,” Justin repeated, his eyes going glossy with tears. “It’s really you?”
Keats stood, not sure what to do with his big brother’s tears. He couldn’t remember ever seeing him cry. “Yeah, it’s me.”
“He was just leaving,” Keats’s father bit out.
Justin’s attention snapped to his father. “What the hell is wrong with you? It’s Adam, Dad.”
“I know damn well who he is.”
His brother swung himself on his crutches with what looked to be practiced ease toward Keats and pulled him into a crushing one-armed hug. Keats didn’t know what to do but hug back. “Hey, big brother.”
The embrace only got tighter and Justin’s chest bounced with silent sobs. “You’re okay. I can’t believe you’re okay.”
That was when Keats realized Justin hadn’t known. His dad hadn’t bothered to inform him that Keats was alive. For Justin, his little brother had just come back to life.
And he cared. His badass Marine big brother was sobbing.
Emotion welled in Keats as he hugged Justin back in a fierce embrace. And before long, his face was wet, too. Because he was happy to see his brother. But also because he realized how much pain he must’ve put him through when he’d run away. He’d wanted to hurt his dad. But he’d never intended to hurt Justin, too.
Justin finally leaned back, eyes red, and smiled. “I’m trying to convince myself that I’m not having some weird medication reaction or something.”
Keats laughed and swiped at his eyes.
“I’m so freaking happy to see you,” Justin said, shaking his head. “I never believed what they’d said about you. You had too much fight in you. But after all these years passed, I started to lose hope.”
“I’m so sorry,” Keats said, the guilt weighing heavy on him now. “I never wanted to put you through that.”
Justin grabbed Keats’s shoulder, his grip strong. “I know why you left. I don’t blame you.”
They both looked toward the empty recliner.
During their hug, Keats had heard the front door slam shut and the rumble of an engine. Keats glanced down at Georgia, who was watching him and Justin with shiny eyes. “So he left.”
She folded her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” Keats said, putting his arm around Justin, careful not to knock his crutches. “Now we can relax and catch up. Georgia, I’d like to introduce you to my brother.”
She smiled and stood, putting her hand out. “So nice to meet you.”
Justin took her hand to shake it.
“Justin, this is my girl.”
And even though Keats knew that wasn’t exactly true, right then he wanted nothing more than to make it so.
THIRTY-FOUR
Georgia hadn’t made it two steps into Colby’s house before Keats’s hands and mouth were on her. He’d seemed wrung out by the time they’d wrapped up visiting with his brother, and she’d figured the emotional day had taken its toll. But as soon as the front door had clicked shut, his whole demeanor had shifted.
Her back hit the wall of the living room, and Keats pressed his body against her as he kissed her hard. She grappled for a hold and latched onto the back of his shirt, loving the feel of him taking what he needed. He was usually her kinder, gentler lover. But she liked seeing this side of him, too.
She gasped when he slipped his hand beneath her shirt and cupped her breast. “God, George, I need you right now. Tell me this is okay.”
“It’s definitely okay,” she said, letting her head fall back against the wall. Whatever he needed, whatever demons he was exorcising, she was on board. After the day they’d both had, she craved that oblivion, too. “I’m all yours.”
“Thank God.” He tugged her shirt up and over her head and unhooked her bra, leaving her bare from the waist up. He tapped the waistband of her jeans. “Lose these.”
She almost said, Yes, sir, but then caught herself. She worked at the button on her pants, and Keats lowered his head to suck and tease her nipples. Kiss. Suck. Kiss. Bite. Good Lord, he was going to undo her before they even made it to the bedroom.
She kicked off her shoes and shimmied out of her jeans and underwear, pieces of clothing landing in a haphazard pattern around them. Late-afternoon sunlight slanted over them from the front window, and Keats’s blond hair was painted in pinks and oranges as he got to his knees and spread her open with his thumbs. His mouth was sweet fire against her, licking and nibbling every tender, aching part. She moaned his name and slid her fingers into his hair. He hadn’t tied it back today, and she loved how cool and silky it felt around her fingers.
Keats looked up at her, eyes making promises she knew he’d keep, and breached her with two fingers—stroking, stroking, stroking. “I never get tired of this, George, hearing those sounds you make, my name on your lips.”
“I can’t help it,” she said. “You and Colby make me lose my mind.”
If I’m not careful, you’re going to make me lose my heart.
His thumb found her clit, sending a dart of swift pleasure up her spine and chasing the worry from her mind. “Best job ever. Making a beautiful woman mindless.”
“Or man,” a voice behind them said.
Georgia lifted her head, finding Colby leaning against the entryway from the kitchen with a lazy smile and predatory gaze.
“Welcome home,” Georgia said, half gasping, as Keats went back to pleasuring her with slow, torturous glides of his tongue.
“I can’t say there’s any better sight to come home to after a hard day than my favorite woman naked and spread out for my favorite guy. If I had known this was waiting for me, I would’ve driven faster.” He headed to where they were and leaned over Keats to kiss Georgia. His hand found her breast and teased as he deepened the kiss.
She moaned into the kiss. The combination of Colby’s rough fingers against her nipple and Keats’s talented tongue against her clit had her ready to go over already.
Colby pulled back from the kiss and ran a thumb over her mouth. “Make her come, Keats. Looks like she needs one now.”
“Gladly,” Keats said, his gaze meeting hers as he angled his fingers inside her. “Want to join me?”
Colby grinned at Georgia, somehow playful and threatening at the same time. “Turn around and plant your hands against the wall.”
Georgia did as she was told, her feet squeaking against the wood floor and her heart pounding.
Colby’s hands spanned her waist. “Now slide your hands down and bend over, legs spread.”
“Goddamn,” Keats said from behind her as she got into position. “I’m starting to see the appeal in Colby wanting to restrain us. I wish we could cuff you to the wall just like this. You should see how fucki
Georgia felt flush all over and her knees wobbled. She wasn’t sure she’d ever felt quite so exposed.
Colby ran a hand over the back of her thigh. “Don’t lock your knees, baby. Relax and let us make you feel good.”
She loosened her limbs a little and planted her feet, almost bracing for a hit of some kind. But that wasn’t the mood Colby was in. Because before long, she felt hair brush against her leg. She peered down to find Keats slipping into the space she’d created between her and the wall. He gripped her outer thighs and situated his mouth against her, then resumed the languid, luscious circles he’d been making with his tongue before. She let out a soft moan, her head dropping forward.
At the same time, big, warm hands coasted over her backside. Colby’s touch was light but confident as he teased her. And she could hear him shifting into position behind her. He was going to the floor. Oh, God. Even though she suspected what was coming, when a finger buried inside her channel and hot, wet kisses landed right along the curves of her ass, the arches of her feet lifted off the floor.
She groaned a groan that came from someplace deep and forced her eyes open, needing to see the two men working in tandem on her. But she couldn’t keep her eyes open for long. Because Colby was spreading her for more than kisses. The hot wet tip of his tongue teased close to her back entrance and he bit one of her cheeks. Oh, God. It was all so much. The feel of two mouths burning hot along her most private, sensitive spots had her fingers pressing so hard into the drywall, she worried she was going to push right through.
Colby’s fingers dug into her ass cheeks, adding a snap of pain to the already overwhelming sensations, and spread her wider for him. She braced herself for it, but there was no preparing. His tongue traced a path around her rim, slow and sexy, the scruff of his beard tickling her tender skin, and she nearly lost it. She’d never had anyone put their mouth to that forbidden place before, but hell if it didn’t feel like the most sinfully erotic thing ever. Knowing that he wasn’t afraid, that nothing was off-limits for him when it came to her body, did something to her. Like full-out acceptance. I am turned on by all of you. Every bit is mine to explore and pleasure.