by Roni Loren
“No escape for you yet, gorgeous,” Colby said from behind her. “You’ve still got six more minutes.”
“Six?” He had to be kidding. Surely she’d been standing there an hour. Already every part of her back and ass was throbbing and tight. Not necessarily in a good way. Maybe she wasn’t a masochist after all. Maybe a spanking was as much as she could handle. But she also wasn’t going to back down. She’d endure.
The leather strips came down again, and she cried out with the biting sting. Keats’s grip tightened on her ankles when she tried to shift forward. Goddamn, Colby wasn’t going to be shy about it. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to catch her breath.
But Colby didn’t let her. No more one hit and pause. The flogger was coming down again already, a figure eight of fiery pain lighting her up. Wham. Wham. Wham.
Blood was rushing through her head, and a buzzing started in her ears. But Colby didn’t let up. He was in a steady, focused rhythm. Her vision began to blur a bit, and vaguely she registered that she might be crying. But her mind was fuzzing around the edges.
“Put your tongue to use, Keats,” Colby said, his voice terse. “I know she can take more, but she may need a little added motivation.”
Before Georgia could line the words up in her head to process them, a hot mouth was sucking and laving at her pussy. Oh, yes. Her knees softened and a shudder of relief chased up her body. She whimpered as the next hit landed but it wasn’t from the sting. No, her skin was going tingly and fever hot, her body converting the pain into something other, ethereal and erotic, as Keats lapped at her.
The two men seemed to be in sync somehow. The rougher Colby got, the more lovingly sensual Keats got. Soon, she found herself anticipating the next swing and teetering on the brink of another release. Instinctively she knew coming was not allowed right now. This was supposed to be punishment. But with the next blow, she came anyway—the rolling power of it impossible to fight.
Colby didn’t even pause, and Keats just rode her orgasm with his mouth, softening his assault but still pushing her higher. Another hit came and sensation cracked wide open, spilling over her, making her near-delirious.
God, it was so . . . she couldn’t even find words. She let out a choked laugh, which sounded hysterical to her ears, as she imagined her writer brain being emptied of words, letters soaking into the floor. Yep. They’d officially hijacked her mind and shipped it to another place.
Another hit came.
She let her eyes fall shut and fell into that lovely, floaty space. Time passing without a desire to mark it.
—
Keats couldn’t help but gaze up and be awed at the transformation in Georgia. She wasn’t flinching away from anything anymore. In fact, she’d pitched her body more toward Colby in full surrender. Keats knew what it meant to be masochistic—suspected he had a strain of that, too, since he’d been known to get hard while getting inked—but he’d never expected to see someone look downright high from it.
Colby set down the flogger and peeled off his shirt, a faint sheen of sweat marking his brow. He looked like some wicked god, standing behind Georgia and admiring his handiwork. He stepped up and pressed himself to Georgia’s sure-to-be-burning back, laying a kiss on her shoulder. “Beautiful.”
“Please,” she murmured.
“What do you need, baby?” Colby asked. “Ready for me to get you down?”
A quick shudder went through her. “I just . . . I don’t know. I need . . .”
Colby closed his eyes and inhaled against her bare shoulder like he was savoring the words. “You need a break.”
She shook her head, but it was erratic, like a horse shaking off a fly.
Keats sat back on his calves when Georgia seemed to sag fully into the bindings. “Is she okay?”
Colby smiled down at him. “I like that you’ve got her back, that you want to watch out for her.”
“I’d do the same for you.”
“I know you would. You’re a good man, Adam Keats.”
The statement was simple but for some reason it filled Keats up in a way that made his chest ache. “Thank you.”
“And yes, she’s fine, but we need to get her out of these ropes and onto the bed. Stand up and put your arms around her waist to hold her up while I untie her.”
“Yes, sir.” Keats rocked to his feet and wrapped his arms around Georgia, careful to not cause any undue pressure on her tender back.
Her forehead sank to his shoulder. “Lethal,” she murmured.
Keats smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Shh, let us get you down before you flatter me profusely about my skills in the sack.”
She snorted against his shoulder.
Colby made quick work of the ropes and lifted Georgia into his arms to carry her to the bed. He settled her on her side and pulled a blanket over her. “I promise we will give you what you need, but you need to come down a little first and hydrate. Keats is going to lie here with you while I get you some water. Just rest for a minute. You did great.”
She smiled softly but didn’t open her eyes. Colby nodded at Keats, and Keats didn’t need him to say more. He stretched out behind Georgia, propped up on his elbow, and spooned her. She made a quiet sigh of satisfaction as he stroked his fingers through her curls, then down along her arm.
“I can’t even tell you how amazing you looked tied up for him, George,” he said, keeping his voice low and soothing. “I know I’m still figuring out a lot of stuff, but no one will ever be able to tell me there’s any shame in submission. You looked like a warrior princess up there, so tough and sexy. Thank you for letting me see that side of you.”
She rolled over and snuggled into him, brushing a quick kiss over his collarbone. Her voice was low and lazy when she finally spoke. “I can’t wait to see your warrior side. You’re going to undo him, Keats, unravel him completely.”
Keats sniffed. “I think you’re still flying high, George, and got that one backward.”
“Nope,” she said without hesitation. “I’m the fling. You’re the guy he’s falling in love with.”
Keats stared at her, unsure he’d heard her right, a tight, anxious feeling curling in his stomach. “You really are out of your mind right now, aren’t you?”
She didn’t have time to answer because the man in question strode back into the room. “She say something?”
“Nothing,” Keats said. “She’s not making much sense.”
Colby sat down on her other side, gave her a few sips of water, then ordered her back down. He traced the back of his hand along her hip and thigh in a slow, soothing motion. Soon, Georgia’s breath evened out and she was fast asleep.
Colby looked up and smiled. “Having heavy thoughts over there, Keats, or is the cock ring just cutting off your circulation?”
He smirked. “Nah, I was just thinking she’s pretty spectacular when she lets go. It was like all that crap that smothers her every day just blew away for a few minutes. It was like seeing the real Georgia for the first time.”
“Yeah,” he said, glancing down again and looking at her with a tenderness that proved Georgia was dead wrong. Colby didn’t see her as a fling at all. “That’s the beautiful and dangerous part about kink. It cuts away the husk and exposes the tender center. It can show you the truth. And sometimes it’s scary to see. Or feel.”
“For the dom, too?”
Colby nodded, looking pensive. “Maybe even more so. We don’t have subspace as an excuse.”
The truth. Keats swallowed hard, Georgia’s words running through his head. You’ll undo him, Keats. Was that what she was talking about?
The thought of seeing Colby’s truth, Keats’s own truth, was damn terrifying. He should probably get up and walk back to his room, leave these two alone. They were all getting too deep too quick. But no one had ever accused him of being wise.
&nbs
p; Keats lifted his gaze to Colby’s, then let it slide downward, knowing his intent couldn’t be mistaken. “So what now, Teach?”
Colby’s easy expression darkened.
“Because it looks like everyone in the room has come except the guy we’re supposed to be serving.”
Colby’s smile was slow and sinister. “I like your initiative, kid.”
Keats got up, careful not to jostle Georgia, and walked around to the other side of the bed. He climbed between Colby’s knees and reached for the button on Colby’s jeans. “I’m not a kid anymore, Colby. But I’ve always been an excellent student.”
The deep groan he heard as he closed his mouth over Colby was worth any price Keats would pay for forgetting to ask for permission.
THIRTY-ONE
Colby stared at the ceiling, watching the morning light track across it. He hadn’t planned to wake up this early, but once his eyes had opened and he’d felt Georgia curled up next to him, all the memories from last night had rushed up and he hadn’t been able to fall back asleep. Last night had been beyond all his expectations. When Keats had gone down on him, they’d made enough noise that Georgia had woken up a few minutes into it. Her wide-eyed surprise had switched quickly to interest as her gaze had zeroed in on the spectacle.
“I think we have an audience,” he’d told Keats.
Keats had paused, fleeting panic appearing. Sucking a guy off and doing it in front of someone else were two different things. Keats had turned toward Georgia as if to measure her reaction, but there was no mistaking the desire on her face. That had settled Keats. See, we’re all okay here. Colby had gripped his hair and guided him back down. Keats had found that submissive headspace again and had given himself over to it.
“You don’t have to just watch,” Colby had told Georgia, reaching out for her and cupping her cheek.
She’d nuzzled his hand. “But it’s such a pretty view.”
“Always the voyeur, huh? Come ’ere.”
He’d drawn her over to him and kissed her. She’d sunk into the kiss immediately and had reached out to stroke Keats while he worked Colby over. Then they’d all gotten into a tangle, switching positions and rotating who was pleasuring whom. Somehow they’d found a rhythm where no one was left out. Everything had felt organic, natural. In the moments that followed, Colby had lost track of time passing. They’d each ridden their edges as long as they could, drawing out the pleasure.
Georgia had declared that she could last in this game way longer than they could, so both of them had taken that as a challenge and gone after her simultaneously. She’d shrieked and had tried to run away. But Keats had caught her by the waist, dragging her down to the carpet. Colby and Keats had attacked Georgia with mouths and tongues and roving hands. She’d given them a fight, playfully swatting at them and crawling away, swearing she didn’t have another go in her. But she’d been fun to capture.
She’d tipped over into a laughing, shrieking orgasm in record time. And she’d kindly returned the favor, taking both his and Keats’s cocks in her hands and stroking them against each other. They’d all collapsed into a sticky, sweaty heap at the end, and when Keats had declared the throw rug a complete loss, they had all started laughing again—overtired, overstimulated, and overwhelmed.
It’d been nothing like Colby had ever experienced before.
He’d had more than his fair share of threesomes but never like that. Never had he ended up belly laughing with a partner. Or experienced that contented, all-is-right-with-the-world warmth going through him when he looked at his lovers, that unshakable need to see these two people wake up next to him the next day. And when Georgia had agreed to try to stay—to spend her first night outside her house in over a year—the feeling had turned into a twisting ache in his gut.
He was so deep in the shit it wasn’t even funny.
If his friends could see him now, they’d be laughing their asses off. Colby Wilkes, the dom no sub could pin down for more than one or two sessions, was having the feelings. God help them all.
His cell phone buzzed on the bedside table. He rolled over and grabbed for it before the noise woke his bedmates. His boss’s phone number flashed on the screen. On a Saturday? This couldn’t be good. He quickly rolled out of bed and hit Talk. “Hi, Rowan. Can you hold on one sec?”
“Sure, I’m at your front door. I can wait,” Principal Anders said.
“What?” Shit. “Okay, be there in two minutes.” Colby hit End on his phone and grabbed a pair of sweats and a T-shirt from a drawer. He tugged them on as quickly as possible and quietly made his way out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. There was no time to do anything else but scrub a hand through his hair to make sure it wasn’t standing up on end. What in God’s name was his boss doing at his house at seven in the damn morning on a weekend?
He pulled open the door to find her wearing her serious face. “Hey.”
Rowan gave him a quick head-to-toe perusal. “I’m really sorry to pop in on you like this on a weekend, but I wanted to talk to you . . . not at work. And you’ve said you’re an early riser.” She glanced at his driveway, where Keats’s bike was parked. “I was going to knock, but I was afraid you might have company.”
“I do, but that’s okay. We can talk in the kitchen.”
He led her inside, an unsettled feeling moving through him. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good news. No need to make a house call for that.
“Coffee?”
“I’ll never turn that down,” she said with a little smile.
“So what’s going on?” he asked, getting the coffee started. “Is Travis okay?”
She sighed and slid onto the stool at the island. “Yes, he’s okay. He’s in an inpatient facility for a few more days while they get his medications right. But his parents are getting more and more determined to find someone to point the finger at. That’s what I’m here to talk to you about.”
Colby set two mugs on the counter and turned around. “Lay it on me.”
She frowned and met his eyes. “Their lawyer dug up information on you from Hickory Point. I guess he Googled the old news stories or whatever about Adam Keats’s disappearance.”
Colby’s stomach flipped over.
“So they’re chasing that trail. And even though you were never accused of anything, it’s enough of a flag that their lawyer can make himself feel useful.”
“Jesus,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “What the hell good is it going to do to ruin my career? Their kid needs them dialed into him, not distracted by some wild-goose chase.”
Empathy crossed her face. “I know. But they don’t know how to deal with Travis, so they’re doing this instead. But I wanted to come and tell you what was going on. I know how hard that whole thing was on you. I remember you telling me about it when you first came to Graham. They plan to interview teachers you worked with and talk to the family of the kid who ran away. The father lives in Burleson now, so they’ll probably go out there to see him on Monday or Tuesday.”
Colby had been reaching for the coffeepot, but his whole body went cold at that. He lowered his hand to his side. “They’re going to talk to his family?”
“Do you think anyone is going to say anything that would reflect badly on you?”
Colby just stared at her. “Adam Keats’s father hated me. He thought something was going on. So yeah, he’ll give them all the nasty accusations they could want.”
“And nothing was going on,” she said, making it sound like a statement, but he knew it was a question.
“Of course not.”
She nodded and rubbed the spot between her eyes. “I’m sorry. I had to ask, even though I’ve never seen you be anything but professional, and I know you’re great with the kids. I’m beyond frustrated that this is going so far. I need you back at school. Dr. Guthrie has his strengths, but there are too many kids to be s
een, and many of them connect better with you. I don’t like witch hunts. It’s hard enough to find counselors who want to work with this population of kids. But the school board doesn’t like scandal, so I’m afraid that if this keeps getting bigger, it’s going to cause problems for you.”
Colby set her coffee in front of her and took a long draw off his, trying to stay calm. “What can I do to help?”
“Be cooperative. The school board wants you to give a written statement and to do another interview. Be prepared to answer questions about that day with Travis but also about Adam Keats.”
“Dude, what the hell are you doing up so damn—” Keats froze in the doorway to the kitchen, hand on the waistband of the boxers he’d probably just pulled on. “Uh . . .”
Rowan’s eyes went round. “Oh.”
Alarm bells blared in Colby’s head, but he forced himself to not outwardly react. He didn’t give a shit if Rowan knew he slept with men, but if Keats introduced himself . . .
He strode over to Keats and put a hand on his shoulder, hoping he was conveying the don’t-say-a-damn-word warning with his eyes. “Hey, can you give us a minute? This is my boss, Principal Anders. She stopped by to talk about some stuff going on at school.”
Awareness flashed over Keats’s expression. “Yeah, sure, sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Keats sent Rowan an apologetic smile and slipped back down the hallway. Colby thought his heart was going to pound right out of his chest. He could see trying to explain how the kid who went missing all those years ago was now standing in his kitchen half naked.
When Colby turned back to Rowan, there were patches of pink high on her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have stopped by like this. I should’ve called and asked if it was okay and—”