No Going Back (Revolving Door Book 3)

by Dani Matthews

  “You are?” she asks, looking pleased.

  “Yes, and he’s being extremely difficult,” I say sourly.

  “So you’re not getting anywhere?” she asks with disappointment.

  I reach for my soda and arch an eyebrow. “Does sex count?”

  Her eyes widen. “You had sex with Colt?”

  I nod, taking a sip of the soda before setting it aside. “Yesterday.”

  “I thought you weren’t getting anywhere.”

  “He’s still pushing me away, and he told me we can’t have sex again.” I look at her with amusement. “He can’t close the door on what we have, so I plan on seducing him every chance I get.”

  She looks impressed. “You must be doing something right, because I didn’t expect you to get him into bed quite so fast. I mean, I knew it would happen sooner or later with as stubborn as you are, and look at you, you’re gorgeous.” She leans in, her eyes mischievous. “How was it?”

  “Mind-blowing, and that’s all you’re getting out of me,” I say lightly.

  Harper’s expression sobers. “He’ll come around, Quinn.”

  “I hope so, because I’m in deep, Harper.” I decide it’s time to switch the topic. “I hear Gabe’s been looking at houses on his computer.”

  We talk until our meal arrives, and when we leave the restaurant and head home, the sun has sunk low in the sky.

  Colt’s truck is in the driveway, and I wonder if he’ll search me out tonight. Once we’re inside, Harper goes to find Gabe, and I head for my room, leaving the door open as I sit on the bed and begin taking off my high-heeled booties. I’m already bored and contemplating going to bed early. Colt needs a break from me, so I have no intention of tracking him down. Usually, I relieve my boredom by going out, but I know that’s a bad idea—mostly because everyone in the house will give me a hard time.

  I hear movement in the doorway, and I look up to see Colt standing there, a frown tugging on his lips.

  I release a sigh. “I don’t want to hear it. I didn’t go out alone, and I came home before dark,” I tell him before he can lecture me.

  He regards me silently, and I watch as his usual mask of indifference slides into place.

  “What?” I ask, disappointed that this conversation isn’t going to lead anywhere.

  “Just checking on you,” he says after a long pause.

  I stand and look at him with amusement, thinking it might be wise to lighten the mood. “No, you came to yell at me.”

  “A little,” he agrees.

  “It was worth it. Look at these beauties,” I say, flashing my newly painted gold fingernails.

  He just shakes his head and turns, walking away and disappearing from sight.

  I release as slow breath, wishing he would have stayed longer, but I can’t complain. At least he’s not avoiding me like before. I can work with that.

  The rest of the evening goes by at a snail’s pace, and I end up in bed by ten. I’m just beginning to doze when my phone rings.

  I turn and lean over, picking it up from the nightstand. The number is unknown. I calmly turn off the phone and lie back down.

  ***

  I’ve designated Tuesday as ‘laundry day,’ or I’ll literally skip laundry until I find myself with no clean panties. At least it’s something to do.

  After my shift at the salon, I toss my clothes in the machine and reach for the bottle of detergent on the shelf. I’d been worried about what I’d find this morning after my unknown caller—AKA—Slade. Thankfully, my car was spotless, and Colt had decided it was safe for me to drive.

  I can already feel the stirrings of restlessness creeping up on me. This whole staying in and not going out to bars and parties is driving me nuts. I’m itchin’ to get out there, and Friday can’t come soon enough. I’m looking forward to going out and having a good time with those closest to me.

  My thoughts shift to Colt.

  The man is stubborn, but I think I’m beginning to wear him down. I’ll tell him about my phone call last night, and then I’ll see what I can do to loosen him up. My lips curve upwards as I close the lid on the washing machine. I can’t wait to feel him inside me again, and there’s no doubt in my mind that it’ll happen—and soon. I know his weakness now, and I plan to take full advantage of it. As long as I make the first move, he can’t seem to deny what his body wants.

  “Quinn?”

  I release a startled yelp and spin around, coming face to face with Colt—who’s standing in the open doorway. I’d been so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn’t heard him come home.

  He frowns and steps further into the small room. “Did something happen today?” he asks, assuming my jumpiness must have to do with Slade.

  The devious side of me takes over. I quickly move around him and shove the door closed before facing him once more, deliberately blocking the exit.

  Colt’s eyes shift from the door to my face, and his eyes narrow with a hint of suspicion.

  “He called last night, and I turned off my phone,” I inform him.

  His expression clears as his focus shifts back to Slade. “Did he leave a voicemail?”

  I shake my head.

  “So nothing else happened today?” he prods, studying me.

  “Nope.” I grin provocatively. “Though I’ve been very distracted. I keep thinking about your dick.”

  Colt backs a step away and draws in a deep breath before slowly exhaling, clearly trying to pull together some restraint so that he doesn’t give into me.

  Today, I find it kind of adorable. I move closer to him and slip my arms around his neck, which is quite a stretch considering my lack of height. I press my body fully against his and look up into his hazel eyes. “I’ve been fantasizing about you,” I murmur.

  He releases a low, rumbly groan that vibrates throughout my entire body, making my lower belly ache. “This has to stop, Quinn.”

  “Make me,” I dare before my lips press against his.

  The second my lips touch his, he caves. His lips cover mine, and our tongues dance together as I run my hands over his chest while he cups my ass. All I want to do is make him feel good, so I tear my lips from his and drop down to my knees in front of him, my hands quickly unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the zipper.

  Colt’s making no move to stop me, and I lick my lips and push his briefs and jeans down to mid-thigh, releasing his swollen length.

  The door behind me suddenly opens. “Hey Quinn, did you—” Gabe’s voice cuts off as a thunderous silence fills the small room.

  My eyes dart to Colt’s, and the guilt and self-condemnation in his gaze sends a sliver of pain through my heart. I quickly scramble to my feet, my heart thudding with alarm as Colt yanks up his jeans. No one was supposed to find out until I’d had a chance to prove to Colt that he’s the man for me. Damn it.

  I turn to face Gabe, who’s standing in the doorway, his hand still gripping the doorknob. His expression is stunned, but anger is quickly taking over. “What the fuck are you thinking?” he fumes at Colt, his eyes focused over my shoulder.

  I know exactly what is running through Gabe’s mind, and it’s not good. Colt’s track record with women is terrible, and we all know where Colt stands on relationships. I’m the very last person he should be casually fucking.

  Colt is silent behind me.

  Gabe takes a threatening step forward, and I quickly dart in front of him, putting a hand against his chest to stop him. “Don’t,” I plead. Colt doesn’t take shit from anyone, but right now, Gabe caught us in the act of doing something that Colt believes is wrong. He won’t defend himself against Gabe—so that leaves me to try to salvage the situation.

  Gabe ignores me, his angry eyes still locked on Colt. “You’ve crossed a line that should have never been crossed, Colt.”

  “Hey,” I snap, swatting his chest to gain his attention. He reluctantly drags his gaze to me, and his expression twists into concern. “Don’t look at me like that. I did this. Me, not Colt. I�
��m the one who seduced him.”

  “You’re going through—”

  “Who the fuck cares what I’m going through. That has nothing to do with Colt and me. Gabe, we are consenting adults. Our choices are our own,” I say calmly.

  Gabe’s eyes jerk back to Colt. “She’s our sister. Our sister,” he repeats.

  “Not by blood, and you know it,” I cut in.

  Disgust flashes across Gabe’s face, his eyes still on Colt. “Are you really just going to stand there and allow her to defend your ass?”

  “Enough.” I give Gabe a good shove, and because Gabe would never physically maneuver me out of his way, he allows me to push against his chest as I back him into the hall. “Cool down before you say anything further that you might regret,” I advise.

  His jaw clenches, and as his eyes focus on mine, I can see that he’s beginning to calm. Without a word, he turns and strides away, his shoulders tense and his back rigid.

  I turn back to the laundry room and find Colt in the doorway. His expression is cold as ice, and his hard eyes are focused entirely on me. “Don’t ever fucking do that again, Quinn. Stay away from me. I mean it.”

  His words cut deep, but I refuse to back down. “You’re a coward.”

  The look he gives me would make a grown man shrivel. I love him too much to allow him to push me away, so I straighten my spine. “If you want to allow fear to control your life, that’s your choice. But I refuse to allow it or anything else to control me—not even Gabe and Channing.” With that said, I turn and walk away, hoping that for once, what I’d said will stir something inside him.

  Seventeen

  Colt

  I find myself scowling at the punching bag. I’m mad as hell, and I should be demolishing it until it’s no longer hanging from the ceiling. But instead, I’m realizing that beating the shit out of something isn’t going to make me feel any better.

  I’m downright boiling over what had gone down at the house, and I don’t know what to do with all the shit going on in my head. The guilt is eating away at me as Gabe’s face flashes in my mind, and I’m livid that Quinn had dealt with the fallout. She shouldn’t have had to, but I’d stood there like a total dumbfuck—stunned that Gabe had caught us doing something that I knew we damn well shouldn’t be. The thing is, something else had crept up on me during the drive to the gym, and I can’t quite figure out what it is.

  Quinn’s parting words keep echoing in my mind, and I can’t get them out of my head. If you want to allow fear to control your life, that’s your choice. But I refuse to allow it or anything else to control me—not even Gabe and Channing.

  I’m not allowing fear to control me. I know the blood in my veins is made from the stuff of nightmares. My own mother had paid the price for it. Not that she was the kind of mother one would brag about, but she wasn’t all that bad. She didn’t deserve the fate that was dealt to her.

  I’m trying to protect Quinn, but every time I look at her, I feel like I’m doing more damage by pushing her away—as fucked up as that sounds.

  “Everything okay?”

  I blink and look up to see Jude standing there, his brows hovering low over his eyes as he studies me. I hadn’t heard him approach. “Yeah, it’s good.” Fuck it. “No, it’s not.”

  “Thought so. Want to hit up my office?”

  This is where I typically turn him down, because I’m not much of a talker when it comes to personal shit. Back in the day, we’d had a few conversations that dealt with my past, but it’s been a damned long time since I’ve gone to Jude to help get my head on straight.

  As much as I don’t want to spill my shit to him, I think I need to bounce it off someone, because nothing I do is making anything better. The situation just keeps unraveling, and I don’t know what the fuck to do.

  Jude’s patiently waiting for me to make up my mind.

  I give him a tight nod, and without a word, he turns and starts crossing the gym to the stairwell. The steps lead to the second level where the entrance to the indoor track is located. Jude’s office is just down the hall from it.

  We enter the office, and I see that not much has changed. The walls are still gray, and the flooring is a black tile. His desk is large and black with a comfortable gray chair situated directly across it. The wall behind his desk is all black with a flat screen TV and cupboards on each side, and a door in the corner leads to a private bath. A gray sofa with black accent pillows takes up one wall. Upon the opposite wall is a single window facing the hall that leads to the indoor track—the blinds closed for privacy. Two other windows located next to the entrance of the room happen to face the MMA ring in the gym downstairs. In the corner is a small nook with a microwave, and a black refrigerator is located beneath it. Artistic black and white photos of men fighting in the MMA ring are strategically arranged on the walls.

  “Beer?” Jude asks, pausing just inside the room.

  The offer is completely unexpected. I’ve never seen him drink. “You keep beer here?”

  He shrugs. “For shit days. Something tells me you’re having one.”

  That’s an understatement. “I’ll pass,” I tell him. Alcohol’s the last thing I need. One would likely turn into two, and then three, and so on.

  Jude nods and walks behind his desk to settle in behind it, and I drop into the comfortable gray chair facing his desk. “Hit me,” he says.

  I rub my taped hands over my face. “I don’t know where to begin,” I tell him before dropping them.

  “Start anywhere, and we’ll go from there.”

  I’m silent a long moment, and then I keep the details minimal as I explain Quinn’s interest in me and that I keep screwing up by giving in.

  Jude studies me, his gaze watchful. “Why keep turning her down? You just admitted you’re very much into her,” he points out.

  “I don’t want to hurt her.”

  Jude’s face pulls into a frown. “You think you would?”

  I give him a look. “You know my history.”

  Comprehension dawns across his features, and he rubs his jaw. “You think you’ll be like your father.”

  “I already am,” I state grimly.

  “How?”

  I explain what went down with Rosita, and Jude listens intently.

  “She tripped, you just stated that yourself,” he says after I’m finished.

  “She tripped because I pushed her,” I correct in a flat tone.

  He forms a steeple with his fingers, looking relaxed as he asks, “Did you push her with the intention of hurting her?”

  I’m offended that he would even ask, and I give him a black look. “Of course not.”

  “Accidents happen, Colt.”

  “And lessons are learned,” I say cuttingly.

  Jude leans forward, his eyes honing in on me. “Sometimes, the wrong ones, evidently.”

  Irritation stirs. “This was a mistake.”

  Jude shrugs and nods towards the exit. “There’s the door, no one’s stopping you. Or, you can man up and hear what I have to say—that is why you’re here, isn’t it?” he asks deliberately.

  My teeth grind together as I debate whether to stick this shit out or not.

  “Your old man ever worry about your mom?” Jude asks, assuming my silence means this conversation is going to continue.

  The question catches me completely off guard. “No…”

  “Was he ever remorseful?”

  “No,” I say flatly.

  “Was he ever concerned he’d lose his temper again and hurt you and your mom?” he presses.

  I shake my head, scowling at him.

  “Did he blame his actions on others?” he prods, patiently watching me lose my grip on my temper.

  My fists clench. “Where are you going with this?” I ask darkly.

  He looks at me with an impassive expression on his face. “Just answer the question.”

  “Yes,” I retort in a biting tone. “Everything was everyone else’s fault.”

&
nbsp; Jude sits back in his chair, his expression satisfied. “Colt, you’re nothing like your father.”

  His proclamation has me looking at him like he’s lost his mind. “You know I have his temper.”

  “Everyone has a temper—it just takes some people a hell of a lot longer to act on it than others. You have yet to see mine, and you never want to witness that shit. Does it make me a bad person? I don’t think so. I’m going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer them honestly with only a yes or no. Got it?”

  My eyes narrow on him. “When the hell did you turn into a shrink?”

  “Beats the hell out of me. Some of you guys bring it out of me. You worry about Quinn, right?” he asks, getting straight to the point and turning the topic away from himself.

  I really don’t want to do this shit, yet I can’t seem to stand and leave. Jude regards me silently, waiting to see if I’m going to play his stupid game. I release an annoyed sigh. “You know I do.”

  “And you worry about hurting her?”

  “Obviously,” I grind out.

  “Do you take measures to always be in control of your anger?”

  “You know all this,” I say with irritation. He’s the one who’d taught me to direct my anger towards more useful measures, like working out and competing.

  “Answer the question, Colt,” he instructs.

  “Yes,” I growl.

  “Do you blame your actions on others?”

  “No,” I clip out.

  “If you feel you’ve wronged someone, you’re the first to admit it and make things right, correct?”

  “Yes,” I say reluctantly.

  His eyes hold mine. “Do you love her?”

  I blink, and hesitate. “She’s family. Yes.”

  “Are you in love with her?”

  I rub my eyes, already knowing the answer. I’ve known it for a while now. I drop my hands and steadily stare back at him, refusing to answer.

  The relentlessness fades from Jude’s eyes. “You’ll never hurt her, Colt. I’d bet my gym and life on it. You’re so in control of yourself that you hold yourself back with misplaced doubts. You learned something from your father all right. You learned how not to be like him.”