No Shame: The Complete Series: Including exclusive bonus materials and deleted scenes

by Phoenix, Nora

  More teasing, probing, circling. Fuck, didn’t the guy realize what he was doing, that he was driving Josh crazy?

  Finally, finally, Connor’s finger slipped in, only to disappear just as quickly. Josh let out a frustrated groan. He opened his eyes, turned his head sideways and aimed a get-the-fuck-on-with-it look to Connor, who didn’t seem inclined to speed things up.

  “You’re a needy little bottom, aren’t you?”

  Josh whimpered again, couldn’t seem to stop the desperate sounds coming out of him. “Yes, Connor. Please, Connor, please,” he added, not too proud to beg.

  “Please, what?”

  “Please fuck me. Please, I need you.”

  “Jerk me off. I want to see you covered in my cum.”

  Later, Josh realized that was the moment his mind found complete peace. He stopped thinking as there was nothing to think about. All he needed to do was obey. His only thought was what Connor wanted.

  He came up on hands and knees and turned around. Connor’s cock was thick and quivering. Josh grabbed some lotion, used it as a lubricant and fisted Connor.

  “Harder. I like it rough, remember?”

  “Yes, Connor.”

  He jerked him off with one hand. It barely fit around the thick member, and he used his other hand to cup Connor’s balls. He squeezed, jerked, fisted. Hard. Connor came with a roar, shooting his fluids all over Josh's face, chest, and hands.

  “Clean me up.”

  “Yes, Connor.”

  He opened his mouth, let his tongue out and licked him clean.

  “On your knees, ass toward me and high in the air. Spread those legs wide.”

  Josh turned, assumed the position, letting his head rest on his hands, still sticky with cum.

  “Whatever I do, you cannot come, you hear me? I don’t care what you have to do, but you are not allowed to come.”

  “Yes, Connor.”

  A heartbeat later, Connor’s face was in his crack, his tongue deep inside his hole. Josh howled in pleasure, reaching for his cock and jerking it once, twice. Then he remembered Connor’s command. He would obey. No matter what it cost him, he would not disappoint Connor.

  He pulled the skin forward over the crown of his cock, pinched so hard tears sprung to his eyes while his body shivered at the same time with delight at the sensation of Connor’s tongue. Every time he felt himself come close, he pinched again. Pain and pleasure, they tormented him while Connor was eating him out like a death row inmate devoured his last meal.

  Connor let go of his hole with a loud smack. “You’re doing good, baby.”

  Balm for Josh's tormented body. He melted into the mattress, let go of his dick for now.

  A cap opened, a squirting sound. Connor’s fingers returned, pushed inside without hesitation. Finally. Josh relaxed, opened up, invited Connor in. Two fingers, three, then four were asking for entry. He tensed for a second.

  “Let me in, baby.”

  He bore down, accepted them all the way in. Connor spread him wide and didn’t stop until all the pain was gone.

  “Attaboy.”

  Connor pulled out his fingers. A condom package ripped open. More squirting, then the glorious feeling of that monstrous cock against his hole. He pushed down, opened wide. Connor surged in deep, was halfway in on the first thrust. Josh let out a contented sigh.

  Four thrusts and Connor was in all the way, a testament to the care he’d taken in prepping Josh. His body was liquid fire, every nerve burning with desire. His ass felt like it was ready to explode, so deliciously full. Connor’s dick pulsated inside him, demanding he surrender. God, Josh was seeping precum, his cock weeping for attention.

  “Brace yourself and remember: you cannot come.”

  Josh dug into the mattress with one hand, grabbed his cock again with the other, pinched hard. Connor pulled almost completely out, thrust back in hard and deep, hitting Josh's prostate full on. Josh was teetering on the brink, his balls strained and his cock ready to blow.

  Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. He would never make this. It was impossible. His breaths came in ragged gasps as his ass was ravaged, owned.

  He needed to distract himself. Anything but the thought of coming.

  Connor pumped so deep, his balls bounced against Josh. Heat raced up and down Josh's spine. Fuck, he was stretched to his limits, and it felt so damn good. But he couldn’t come. Connor had told him he couldn’t, and he wanted to obey.

  He’d do a field strip, the procedure to disassemble and clean his rifle.

  Connor slammed in, made him almost lose his balance.

  “Dammit, hold on,” Connor snapped.

  Josh let go of his cock, leaned farther forward and rested his face on his arms, braced himself with both hands. “Yes, Connor.”

  Connor surged, plunged, sunk in deeper than should have been possible. Josh made a sound of torment. Oh, God, dammit, fucking hell.

  He disassembled his rifle, cleaned it, reassembled it.

  Connor slammed, rammed, fucked. Josh's body soared. So. Fucking. Close.

  He checked his rifle, tested it.

  Connor grunted, switched gears. His thrusts became more vigorous and shallow. Josh had to hold on with both hands to stay in place. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, bringing tears to his eyes.

  He loaded the ammo, checked to make certain it was in place.

  Connor’s hips jerked, his fingers dug deep into Josh's hips, and with a last desperate shove, he came inside Josh. The long growl of pleasure Connor let out send a wave of emotion through Josh. Oh, fuck, he’d done it. He hadn’t come. He’d obeyed.

  Connor dropped his weight on him, and Josh buckled, his legs sinking into the mattress. Connor kept fucking him lazily, his cock still hard until he slipped out with an erotic plopping sound. Josh stayed where he was, fucked into complete surrender.

  The weight disappeared. Rustling sounds, Connor disposing of the condom. “On your back.”

  He didn’t have the strength to answer anymore but dragged himself halfway up, only to sink down again on his back. Eyes closed, he pulled up his legs, canted his ass to invite Connor back in.

  His eyes shot open when he felt Connor’s slick hand on his cock. That single touch brought him back though his eyes were still unfocused, and he had a hard time concentrating. Connor jerked his cock hard. “Come for me, Josh.”

  That was all it took. Josh cried out, wrenching a moan from his toes and came so hard his whole body jerked and spasmed. He shot his cum all over himself, including on his cheeks where it mingled with the tears that still fell from his eyes.

  Connor sat himself upright against the headboard, jammed a pillow in his back. He pulled Josh towards him, then raised him up on his knees. This time, he rolled a fresh condom on with ease.

  “Open your ass.”

  Josh relaxed, positioned himself above Connor’s cock and sank down, taking him in again. He wrapped his leg around Connor, hid his face against the strong chest. Connor held him while he cried, emptied himself out, meanwhile softly thrusting. The comforting rhythm calmed Josh, brought him back to reality. He shifted, angled his body so that Connor hit his sweet spot. God, his ass hurt.

  “Can I come again?” he asked, his voice hoarse and broken.

  “Yes. Take what you need, baby.”

  Josh rode the Beast until he came again, another violent orgasm that had him collapsing into Connor’s arms. He fell asleep instantly, only waking up when Connor carried him into the bathroom. He lowered them together in a deep bathtub, the water warm and smelling of the ocean.

  Josh could barely keep his eyes open as Connor washed him, ever so tenderly. He shampooed his hair, kneading the last bit of tension out of Josh's scalp, rinsing it out with the hand showerhead. He carried him out of the tub, patted him dry, then wrapped a big towel around him and lowered him back on the bed. Somewhere in between, Connor must have changed the sheets because the linens smelled fresh and clean. Josh sighed, too worn out to move a muscle.

&nbs
p; “I love you,” he said, searching for Connor. When he found his strong body, he cuddled up against him, pushing the towel aside to feel his naked skin. “I love you, Connor,” he repeated.

  “I love you, too, Josh.”

  10

  Indy’s stomach rolled and lurched. It wasn’t the kind of sick where your stomach wanted to get rid of something bad you ate, but the kind of unease that informed you about a spectacularly bad decision.

  He'd taken off.

  Noah was in the hospital, in wicked bad shape, and Indy had split. What did that say about him, about his character? What kind of boyfriend was he if he wasn’t there when Noah needed him the most?

  This is why he’ll choose Josh over you. Well, he would if it wasn’t for Connor. You don’t deserve him, either of them.

  He bit his lip as he drove the I-87 eastward toward New York City, more by chance than by plan. He’d taken off on instinct, and now he had no idea where to go. God, he sucked, both as a boyfriend and as a human being. Who took off like that, without saying anything?

  He’d been so damn scared. When he’d woken up from Noah thrashing in the bed, he’d known something was horribly wrong. Noah had been out of it, so hot. He hadn’t known what to do, except to get Josh. Josh had told him they would take Noah to the ER, that he was way sicker than he’d let on.

  In hindsight, he should’ve known something was off. The stump had been bothering Noah the last few days, more than usual. Noah never took painkillers, and Indy had noticed him take one twice on the paintball range. Afterward, he’d been out of it. Indy recognized it from how he’d felt after the acid attack. They’d sedated him at first to cope with the pain, but after that, he’d been on heavy painkillers. Industrial strength, the treating physician had called them. They worked well to block the physical pain, but they also made you numb emotionally. That’s what he’d seen in Noah, that flat emotional state. Like nothing got through to him.

  They’d had sex, even, the night before. The movie had been nice, with them cuddling on the couch. He’d been careful not to touch Noah’s leg again, but Noah had assured him it was fine. He’d apologized up and down for that morning, had said it was all on him and not on Indy. Indy had believed him, had figured it was a weird fluke with his leg. After all, they’d had sex. But even during the sex, something had felt off. Noah had been performing on autopilot. He’d been emotionally switched off. Damn, he should’ve known then. Should’ve said something.

  When he’d heard Connor call that ambulance, he’d bolted straight out the door. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t watch him die. He’d observed from across the street as Connor carried Noah outside. Noah’s body had hung limp and unresponsive in the cop’s arms, and Indy’s heart had stopped. The way he’d looked, so deadly still, Indy knew it was bad. Really bad.

  Suddenly the thought of something happening to Noah had been too real. Many times he’d feared what would happen if Duncan ever found him, what he’d do to Noah and Josh. And now Noah was dying, or what looked like it, and it was all too real. All he’d been able to think was that he needed to get the hell out of there.

  He’d watched Connor and Josh search for him, call out. He’d stayed hidden until they’d left, presumably to the hospital. As soon as they were gone, he’d gone back to the house, had cleared out his stuff. It was pathetically little, but it had hit him how much more it was than before. Noah and Josh had bought clothes for him, shoes, a new phone, a warm winter jacket. He’d thrown it all in his ratty weekend bag, had added food and drinks. Then he’d changed into his female outfit, and minutes later, he’d taken off.

  He’d left him.

  His stomach rolled again, and he swallowed back bile, his hands shaking on the wheel. He took in a raspy breath, forced it down to his belly. It would be okay. He would be okay.

  Another breath.

  What about Noah, will he be okay, too? You left him. How could you do that? He’ll never, ever forgive you.

  His stomach wouldn’t settle. He yanked the car over to the shoulder, got out just in time to empty his stomach onto the grass. He shivered, both from the cold and from the bitter taste of bile residue in his mouth. His stomach had been empty. He hadn’t even had breakfast yet, for fuck’s sake.

  He placed his hands on the roof of the car, made himself breathe in. Steady, now. He had to keep it together. Otherwise he’d fuck up.

  A plan. He needed a plan.

  New York City was good. Anonymous. He’d take an airport motel. Newark, easiest to get to from where he was. Once he was there, he’d contact Houdini. He needed a new identity, in case this one was compromised and would lead back to Noah and Josh. Noah was helpless in the hospital, so Indy would need to stay away and leave no trace behind. That also meant selling his car and buying a new one as soon as he had his new identity.

  Someplace neutral, this time. Far away from Boston. Unremarkable. The Midwest, maybe? Ohio. Ohio sounded good.

  Okay, that was better. Having a plan eased his stress. Next up was getting something in his stomach. He got in his car, grabbed a health bar, and took a bite while he merged back on the New York Thruway.

  A little over two hours later, he checked into some crappy motel in Jersey. It smelled musty with a faint trace of tobacco smoke lingering. He bolted the door, closed the burgundy curtains that were faded from the sun. His car was parked at the main entrance, not near his door. He never parked in front of his room. It would be too easy to find him if they’d ever made his car.

  The room was outfitted with a tiny microwave and fridge. Perfect for his needs. He heated a cup of water to make tea. That would help him calm down. As soon as it was ready, he settled on the creaky queen-size bed. The burgundy-and-pink flowery bedspread had stains he did not want to know the origins of, and it, too, smelled dusty. Whatever. He’d only be here a day or two, tops.

  He opened his laptop, hoping the motel’s promise of free Wi-Fi would check out. He could make his phone into a hot spot, but it would cost him valuable data. Luckily, the Wi-Fi worked. Not only that, it was faster than he’d expected. Probably not a lot of people here at ten-thirty in the morning. He’d been lucky the motel even allowed early check-in. He’d given the front desk receptionist some story about his flight being canceled, but the man had barely listened.

  He shot off an email to Houdini.

  Need new ID. Female. White, common name. Same pic. Ohio. Different DOB. 21. Including SSN, HS diploma. Pick up NYC.

  Now, all he had to do was wait. Houdini would reply in exactly one hour. That man was a godsend. He wouldn’t have survived without him.

  What felt like ages ago, but in reality was maybe three years before, he’d met an associate of Duncan’s. Associate being a loose term here, as the man was being blackmailed into doing work for the Fitzpatricks. He was a con artist specialized in fake documents that could pass any test. Drivers’ licenses, passports, birth or death certificates, this man could produce anything you wanted for a price. Houdini was his moniker, as he could make people disappear with what he did.

  He’d possessed more morals than the Fitzpatricks had counted on though, and when Duncan had asked him for fake IDs for a bunch of underage girls he aimed to pimp out, Houdini had refused. Being a Fitzpatrick, Duncan didn’t take kindly to the word ‘no’, and he’d kidnapped Houdini’s ten-year-old daughter to get what he wanted and to show him who was boss.

  Stephan had overheard what Duncan had done and had been repulsed. Who the fuck would kidnap a ten-year-old to get to her dad? Pretty sick if you asked him. But when Duncan and one of his lieutenants joked about raping her, he knew he couldn’t idly sit by. It might’ve been brash talk, but who the fuck knew what they would do. Everyone knew Duncan liked them young. Stephan had done some discreet digging, discovered where they kept her and had sent an anonymous text to Houdini with the location. Within an hour, a group of armed men had freed the girl from the house where she was being held.

  A few weeks later, a simple piece of paper had been dro
pped in Stephan’s pocket with an email address. He’d emailed it, curious as he was and had found out it was Houdini, promising him to deliver anything he wanted if he ever needed it. Somehow, Houdini had found out it had been Stephan who’d helped him even though Duncan had never discovered it. Thank fuck for that. Houdini had given him specific instructions on how to contact him. When Stephan had gone on the run and had become Indy, he’d contacted Houdini, and the man had delivered an ID in his new name within forty-eight hours. With his help, Stephan Moreau had become Indiana Baldwin. Without him, Indy wouldn’t have stood a chance.

  He played games on his phone to pass the time. At the expected time, an email came in.

  no prob. 34. tracks. rose & jack.

  Indy exhaled in relief. Houdini would come through. The delivery instructions were coded, but Indy understood without a problem. The handover was always in a Starbucks where he’d order a tall latte macchiato if everything was okay, and a grande espresso macchiato if he knew he was being tailed. Houdini delivered exactly forty-eight hours from sending his reply unless he indicated otherwise in his email. The 34 meant the Starbucks was somewhere on 34th Street, but the tracks narrowed it down to Penn Station, which was on 34th Street. Rose would be his codename, and he’d be meeting ‘Jack’. Houdini had a fondness for movies, always picked duos from movies, he’d told Indy.

  Indy closed his laptop. Two days from now, he’d have a new name, a new identity. A new future.

  Would Noah and Josh be in it? He honestly didn’t know.

  * * *

  When Connor and Josh got back to the hospital, Noah had been wheeled out of his surgery. A nurse told them they could see him as soon as he woke up, which should be in about an hour. They settled in the waiting room again, which was now fuller. They encountered some raised eyebrows when people spotted their entwined hands, but nobody said anything.

  Josh had been quiet since he’d woken up after a two-hour nap. At first, Connor had thought he’d needed time to wake up, or maybe process, but when Josh still had said nothing an hour later, Connor worried. Had it been too much, too soon? Had he gone too far? He’d been winging it, after all, going by sheer instinct and a deep desire to give Josh what he needed. What if he’d fucked up? Josh had said he loved him, but maybe that had been the endorphins talking?