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Zombies Blow

Page 9

by Z. Allora


  “Of course he did. He’s really our… your mate?”

  “He’s our mate. Yes.” Jackson nipped that shit in the bud.

  “Did you like kissing him?” Corey panted out the words as he started writhing against him.

  The mystery was solved when Corey pushed his erection against Jackson. “Yes… it’s different than kissing you. He gives control without me needing to yank it from him.”

  “Speaking of yanking….” Corey purred and moved with urgent need against him.

  Jackson didn’t have to be asked twice. He slid down the bed, taking the bedding with him, and then he took Corey in his mouth.

  Corey gasped and grabbed on to Jackson’s hair. He thrust with an eagerness Jackson hadn’t seen in a while. “I remember… so sweet.”

  Of course he did. No fancy tricks were needed—Corey was heated.

  Jackson sucked until Corey came with a broken moan. He lay next to Corey, trying to catch his breath, but before he could, Corey had him deep in his throat.

  “Goddamn, Corey.” The excitement of a rapid throat fuck had Jackson on the edge.

  Corey pulled back and focused on providing the most delicious suction until he came hard.

  Before he’d recovered, Corey was pushing him. “Go to him.”

  “But….”

  “He needs you.”

  Jackson’s heart squeezed. As difficult as this was for Corey, he was thinking of his mates. “I know, but—”

  “Go cuddle our—him. I’ll be here.” Corey pulled the comforter up to his neck and gave Jackson a brave smile.

  10

  Relying is the First Step in Trusting

  Lying in bed, Corey couldn’t stop from enjoying how his body had pressed flush against Jackson’s during the night. In the beginning, he used to sleep coiled around Jackson, but as the decades slipped by and their mate didn’t appear, that faded. A sadness spread through his heart that separated him from Jackson, but maybe they could recapture that.

  The three of them had been at the beach house for nearly a week. It was counterproductive, but Corey avoided Keith whenever he could, because when he didn’t, he got trapped into playing remember when.

  Remember how Keith would touch my hair and I’d feel like I’d gone to heaven.

  I wonder if his lips are as soft and gentle as they used to be.

  If I gave him a chance, would he talk to me as if no one else in the world mattered?

  Does he still have just the right stroke to bring me off even if—

  The memories of all the wonderful and amazing things about falling in love with Keith Demonico would knock him sideways.

  Then memories of how Keith had ignored him, denied their relationship, betrayed everything they had and pretended Corey was nothing to him—and the pain would rip through him and cut into his soul, opening him up as deep as the hurt did back then. Corey would slide right into judging himself as stupid, forever wanting the things he missed so completely right now.

  He might be a pain slut, but even he had his limits.

  Every night Corey went to bed alone in that big-ass king bed with the million-ass thread count aqua sheets wrapped around him.

  He wanted to give Jackson time to get what he needed from Keith. If he were honest, each night it got harder to walk away from the two of them. But every morning, Corey woke up being hugged protectively by Jackson, who simply refused to sleep in a different bed without him.

  That was sweet, but the disturbing thing was, Corey would find his fingers interlaced with Keith’s, who Jackson also insisted sleep next to him.

  So Corey lay here once again, absorbing the goodness of this moment. Jackson’s sleeping body separated Corey and Keith as he joined them together.

  It was hard to pretend his fingers—of their own accord—hadn’t grabbed Keith’s hand during the night, especially since Corey was always reluctant to release them come daylight.

  Fuck if Keith wasn’t gorgeous. Obviously older than he’d been in high school, but his body had filled out in the best possible way. His long hair fanned out on the pillow like he was Sleeping Beauty. Would a kiss—

  Except Keith was awake, because he gently stroked his thumb across Corey’s palm.

  Corey squeezed his eyes shut and bit back a moan.

  Opening his eyes, he looked over and found Keith staring at him with a raw longing that made his own heart hurt. Closing his hand around Keith’s, he held it tight, but the thought of how he’d have done anything in high school to have Keith’s acknowledgment taunted him, and how stupid he’d been made him release Keith’s hand. Following the path his heart would happily drag him down was too scary. Corey squeezed once and then let go.

  When he slipped out of bed, Jackson grumbled but sleepily accepted Corey’s pillow to snuggle. Corey hit the bathroom, freshened up, and threw on some clothing.

  Each morning, he grabbed a cup of coffee out of Keith’s fancy machine, then headed over to the pier.

  Keith must have jogged down the stairs, because he caught Corey before his feet even hit the beach and fell into step with him.

  “Good morning.”

  Corey ignored the tickle of happiness that tried to make him smile. They hadn’t talked much, and that was probably for the best. “Morning.”

  Folly Beach was quiet at daybreak, especially off-season. There were only a few people scattered on the beach, walking along the water’s edge or sitting. The sun had broken the horizon, painting pinks and oranges in the sky and chasing the dark blue of the night away.

  Corey kicked his flip-flops into the air and caught them, then crunched the powdery sand beneath his toes as he walked across the beach. The salt air breezed through his hair, making it a mess, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking at Keith. The sun sparkled, highlighting the silver and gold strands mixed in with the brown.

  At the wooden steps to the covered pier, Corey slid back into his flip-flops, taking a moment to look at Keith’s feet. Fuck him! Corey didn’t have a foot fetish that he knew of, but goddammit, the man even had beautiful feet.

  Several people fished off the pier. One even had a cart all tricked out, and the bereted person he was with typed on a computer. They gave Corey a nod.

  Corey trudged past everyone and found his favorite picnic table at the very end of the pier. He sat and let the wind ease away his cares. The breeze was like a constant massage, pulling out the bad and only allowing the good to remain.

  Keith sat next to him. After a few minutes, he cleared his throat. “I heard they’re going to redo the pier. It’ll probably be closed down for a couple of years.”

  “Oh?” Lame, but Corey didn’t know what to say. Though he hated himself for it, he couldn’t help craving more of Keith’s voice.

  “Something about marine worms weakening the structure.” Keith stared out at the rising sun.

  Corey sipped his coffee and dug for something else to say. “Will it hurt the rental—”

  “When you vanished after you graduated—”

  “My parents were going to send me to conversion therapy… and I didn’t have a reason to stay.” He wasn’t going to get into how he couldn’t stand to live in that town without the hope of being with Keith. Corey had only tolerated his parents to remain near Keith, but then… that wasn’t an option.

  “I know it’s partly my fault, but it killed me the way you left.” Keith rubbed a hand over his chest.

  No, Corey wasn’t going to let himself feel like shit…. “You had made it clear you didn’t want me. Though it sounds like you got cozy with Jax—I mean Jackson—your senior year.”

  Keith huffed out a breath. “It wasn’t like that. After Perry… Jax stood by me. He was a great friend, but I was too chicken to make a move. I wasn’t brave like you.”

  “I was never brave, just in love.” Corey stared into his cup. Jesus, what’s in this coffee?

  Keith turned to Corey. “Is it bad I wish you were again?”

  What the fuck did he say to that? Yes
! You hurt me. I can’t love you. You need to suffer. No, I don’t want to love you because I can’t get hurt like that again. I hate feeling helpless and out of control.

  Corey said none of these things and simply pointed at his T-shirt, which read Adorable Like a Splinter.

  Keith snorted. “Great shirt. You’re definitely under my skin.”

  Shaking his head, Corey tried to derail this train before it crashed into his brain and convinced him there were second chances that could work. “Nah, I’m like a betta fish. I’m beautiful and want to fight everyone.”

  Keith’s laughter warmed a cold place inside Corey. “You know, I tell the kids in the Rainbow Support Group that anger is the scab that grows over hurt.”

  “What are you, a therapist?” Corey’s therapist had said something to that effect more than once. His anger covered his pain. If he were honest, the fear of feeling the hurt terrified him. What if he were never able to get past it? He’d always done his best to just not to go there.

  “Nah, got my degree in psychology, specializing in counseling, and I had a lot of therapy myself. Working with the kids, you pick up things.”

  “So Storm bragged about how you started the group on your own….”

  “Yeah, I was the one who did the initial registration to set us up as a charity so we could take donations. But there’s so many things to do, it was a group effort.”

  Goddammit! Why did he have to be such a good person?

  The waves kept pushing to shore. Again and again water kept rolling across the sand.

  Corey felt like he was swimming hard against the current and getting nowhere. The tide seemed to drag him and Jax right back to Keith.

  Bumping into his shoulder, Keith said, “You know, Jax loves you so much.”

  “We both loved you first.” Fuck! Corey drank the rest of his coffee, wishing he’d been sipping and not answering before he spilled out his heart.

  Keith’s intake of breath told Corey he hit the mark. But what mark? What was he even trying to do?

  Pointing to the surfers, Keith said, “See that older gentleman in the red wet suit?”

  “I didn’t know you were into daddies.” Corey couldn’t help if he grabbed on to the first available way to get away from the chaos in his head.

  “Ha, at my age some would consider me a daddy.”

  Corey swallowed hard. A beautiful— “You were saying?”

  “Well, he’s ridden three waves to the other surfers’ none.”

  “Okay?” Where was this going?

  “As I’ve gotten older, I stopped waiting for life to give me perfection. I simply try to enjoy what is right in front of me.”

  “So the older surfer is not waiting for the perfect wave.”

  Keith shrugged. “Right, because he knows he’ll be waiting forever, so instead he enjoys the waves he’s given.”

  It made sense.

  Corey covered his face. “And you think I should appreciate the fact I’ve finally gotten my mate and I should forgive you. Do you think I would be selfish enough to screw this up and harm Jackson? Just know that’s not the plan.”

  He didn’t know what the way forward was….

  “I don’t think you’re selfish.” Keith claimed.

  Right. Hell, even he knew he was being an idiot. “Fuck, I don’t know how to do this.”

  He wanted to stop defying logic and reason to give Keith a chance, but he kept getting tangled in his own fear. Why did it feel like he was painted into a corner… and he was holding the brush?

  A strong arm wrapped around Corey’s shoulders. “Me either. But let’s start with me apologizing.”

  Keith had done so every day, and the sincerity wore on Corey. “Again?”

  “As many times as it takes. A sincere apology has three parts. It was my fault. I’m sorry. And finally, what can I do to make it right?”

  Corey tried not to smile, but damn him, Demon was a charming bastard.

  Keith took a deep inhale. “I was a shit in high school. You were so astoundingly incredible and everything I couldn’t be… I wanted you so bad. You didn’t deserve how I treated you. I was scared, but that’s no excuse. I just want you to know it wasn’t because I didn’t love you back… because I did.”

  Well, fuck! His confession was enough to break down the walls Corey had erected around his heart… almost. Maybe if Corey stopped trying to reinforce and rebuild—

  “I’m truly sorry.” Keith’s lovely mouth was marred by a frown.

  No. Corey steeled himself. When in doubt, be a twit or a dick. Right now, he was going with dick… he usually did.

  How big is— Not the time!

  Shit, not the time to become cock focused.

  Sighing, he crossed his legs. He stared out at the dark blue water and the light blue sky. They were both blue, but each very different. “What now, I’m supposed to forgive and forget? Nah, I’m a ‘remember and resent’ kind of guy.”

  Keith nodded and seemed to take Corey’s rejection of his apology in stride. “So Jax said you and he like to go to the BDSM room in Club Zombie.”

  “From apology to BDSM… I like how your mind works. And yeah, I enjoy it.” Then why couldn’t he keep the sigh of discontent out of his tone?

  “What?” Keith was still too fucking perceptive.

  Corey shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

  Keith arched his eyebrow and waited.

  Corey remembered that look. Keith could be a stubborn fucker, and he’d give Corey the eye until Corey broke. Whatever. “Poor Jackson can’t always deal with my needs, and I’m not satisfying all of his.”

  “What are your needs?”

  Well, at least sex was a safe topic. Maybe he could scare Keith off. After all, Corey understood himself much better now than he had in high school. “I require someone in charge. Someone to give me rules and hold me accountable. I need to know who I belong to and if I’m making them proud. I long for someone to not only want me to obey them but to crave it.”

  “Is Jax going too easy on you?” Jesus, Keith didn’t even blink before he got the situation.

  “Yeah, much. If I screw up, there’s no consequences.”

  “And then you feel guilty.” Keith nodded as he summarized Corey’s issue.

  “Yes. If I make a mistake, I want a predefined and clear-cut way to make it better.” He had no clue why he kept spilling his guts, but the confession felt good. Like someone was sharing his load.

  “Sounds like you’re more into head of household than BDSM.”

  Bingo! But Corey shrugged and downplayed the direct hit. “Well, I do like it rough. BDSM is fun.”

  “But you crave more than sex. You want boundaries and guidelines to help you become a better person. You need to have your limits defined and clarified. You need to be taken in hand.” Keith wasn’t asking a question.

  “Taken in hand” was an erotic phrase that fell out of the Domestic Discipline scene. TiH! Yes! Shivering, Corey could barely choke out, “Yes.”

  Keith understood him. The idea of getting what he required and not just settling made Corey heady with the possibilities. There were things, no matter how much he tried, Corey couldn’t give Jackson. Could Keith give Jackson what he needed? In addition, spending time with Keith spoke volumes about what Keith wanted out of life and what he wasn’t getting. Maybe Corey and Jackson could provide what he desired?

  For decades, Corey’s deepest longing was to have Jackson completely satisfied… he never hoped to imagine that maybe he’d get what he truly needed as well… and being able to give Jackson and Keith—

  But still….

  Corey needed to clarify. “It’s not that Jackson doesn’t satisfy me. I just feel like I’m too much for him.”

  “Jax says that’s why you two have a third… why you have… me.”

  Corey’s insides did a backflip while his brain tried to recoil, but his fucking heart wouldn’t let him. “He said that?”

  Keith nodded.

  Confusion
warred with clarity in Corey’s head. There was no lie in those words. “We should head back.”

  When their feet hit the sand, Keith took off his sandals and walked into the water. “It’s warm for this time of year.”

  Corey rolled up his pants and meandered closer.

  “Come here.” Keith yanked him firmly against him.

  Keith’s hard body pressing to Corey made him tremble as the move stole his breath along with his resolve. The tepid water swirled around, shifting the sand beneath his feet.

  In his unsteadiness he relied on Keith’s stability to keep him upright. Keith wouldn’t let him fall….

  “What?” Keith asked.

  “Nothing.” Corey stared out at the waves. Gravity. The moon’s pull could only hold the tide back a little, but the waves still made their way to the shore.

  “What? Tell me.” Keith stood with his arms wrapped around him.

  Pleasure at the gentle embrace wove its way through Corey’s body and soothed his battered heart.

  Corey tipped his head, and he was thrown back in time. To another day when Keith had held him close. Years melted away until only raw potential remained, unscathed by time and hurt.

  Sweet hazelnut whispered across Corey’s mouth. Keith’s lips were so close to his. That soft mouth begged to be tasted again.

  The sun warmed his face. Keith scorched heat against his front, making him hard, with physical need encouraging him to press closer.

  Three pelicans cut across the sky, making Corey wish he could fly away with Jackson and Keith to a place where nothing mattered.

  “What?” Keith was determined to make him answer.

  Corey found the demand exciting. He longed to capture this moment and keep it for himself.

  One kiss didn’t have to mean anything, right? He licked his lips. “I wondered if I remembered what your lips felt like.”

  There was an inevitability to this moment and these actions.

  “Do you want me to refresh your memory?” Keith’s voice invited him into sin.

  Damn him. Why couldn’t he take Corey’s blatant invitation? “Yes—”

  Before the admission was completely out of his mouth, Keith’s lips captured the affirmation. His lips glided against Corey’s mouth. A gentle lick from Keith’s tongue had Corey opening his mouth to beg.

 

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