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

by Phoenix, Nora

  Blake cleared his throat. “Brad has something he would prefer others did not know, let’s leave it at that.” Thank you, big brother. The guy was a fucking saint, saving his ass all over again, even when he didn’t deserve it.

  “What did you do?” Miles wanted to know.

  Brad shrugged. “Told him to go fuck himself. He knew I had way too much dirt on him for him to ever sell me out. I would’ve fucking buried him.”

  Was that admiration he saw in Miles’ eyes? Sure looked like it.

  “He’s a nasty piece of work,” Blake said. “But for some reason, Charlie loves him.”

  “He’s known Zack since he was fourteen,” Brad said. “He fucking idolized him. The guy did some volunteer work in the community center Charlie was a part of. Charlie’s parents didn’t want much to do with him, so he was looking for a father figure, I guess. They kept in touch, became friends, then more the minute Charlie turned eighteen.”

  Brad caught a meaningful look between Connor and Miles.

  “I’m on it,” Connor said, then Miles nodded.

  “Thanks for letting us stay here,” Brad said.

  Indy sent him a warm smile. “Sure thing. We love having you guys here.”

  “We’re running out of rooms, though, so let’s not take in any more strays, okay baby?” Noah said, kissing Indy’s head.

  “I can sleep on this couch if need be,” Miles joked. “It’s pretty nice.”

  Indy grinned, then laughed out loud as Noah shot him a look. “What? He’s right, it is a damn comfortable couch.”

  “Yeah, and thank fuck it has washable covers,” Josh muttered.

  Brad looked at the couch, then at Miles. “Holy shit, and here I thought I was a horny fucker,” Miles quipped.

  For one second, everyone seemed to hesitate, not sure if he was serious or not, but then they burst out laughing.

  “I’m telling you, if that couch could talk…” Indy said, laughing.

  “If it had a camera built in,” Josh added. “That would make for some serious heavy porn.”

  Those two were now rolling against each other, laughing, while Noah and Connor shook their heads.

  “Come on, Josh, we’re embarrassing Blake and Aaron. They’re not as kinky as the rest of us,” Indy finally managed.

  Brad’s mouth ran off again. “You’re talking about the puppy, right?”

  The second he said it, he froze. He hadn’t meant it in a derogatory way, but it sure could be perceived as such. Fuck, no, please let Aaron and Blake be okay with it. He’d already made them feel like shit about their relationship once, and Blake had rightfully called him out on it. Nothing hurt him more than Blake being angry with him.

  He looked at Aaron, all but pleaded with his eyes that it had been a joke. Blake’s eyes were on Aaron to see how he would respond. Aaron seemed to search for words for a second, then threw his head in his neck and barked. He fucking barked! Max lifted his head up, looking around in confusion, as if wondering where that other dog had come from all of a sudden.

  More laughter ensued, and Brad exhaled in relief. He found Aaron’s eyes, and the man nodded at him as if to say he’d gotten it. Aaron smiled, seemed genuinely grateful to be included in the group. Maybe he had been, Brad realized. Aaron always seemed to be at the fringes, much like himself. Maybe he had actually appreciated Brad’s attempt at leveling the playing field. They were all kinky in some way, right?

  Blake petted Aaron’s head, and Aaron turned his head. He first kissed Blake’s hand, then licked it. It was incredibly cute, in a weird way, and the first time Brad had seen him be so open about his puppy-play. He’d been weirded out at first, but there was no denying how happy Aaron made his brother. Blake’s eyes shone with love for the man, and that was all Brad needed to see to accept him wholeheartedly.

  He smiled, turned to check in with Miles, found the agent’s eyes fixated on him. His eyes dropped, lower, to where Miles was sporting an erection. Brad widened his eyes on purpose in pretend shock. Miles shrugged. Brad held up four fingers, shook his head. He was rewarded with that same sexy grin he loved so much.

  “What are you guys signaling about?” Indy asked.

  Brad loved that about Indy: much like himself, the guy seemed to lack a filter. He was unabashedly curious and said whatever the fuck he wanted. Still, he wouldn’t embarrass Miles, so he bit his tongue.

  “Oh, Brad was a little surprised that after all his hard work this morning, I’ve still managed to get a boner.”

  Brad almost gasped. Wow, Miles was really putting himself out there. He had to feel mighty safe in this group to say something like that. Then again, there was no one here who didn’t know already what he was dealing with.

  “Did the four fingers mean that you…”

  Brad nodded, smiling at Josh's question.

  “Wow. Sweet. You and I need to swap strategies, friend,” Josh said.

  “Joshua!” Connor said sternly, but the snickers around the room signaled they all knew how fake this threat was.

  “Yes, Connor?” Josh asked innocently.

  “Do I need to take you to the bedroom to show you what happens when you embarrass me?”

  “Erm, yes, please?”

  Indy’s hand clamped down on Josh's leg. “Hell, no. You’re not going anywhere. We’re all fucking hard, but you’ll have to suffer through it, like the rest of us. Now, Brad, if you want to share, feel free.”

  “Ew, TMI,” Blake said, his eyes dancing. “That’s my brother, dude.”

  Indy snorted. “Don’t go all prude on me now, man.”

  Brad pondered Indy’s words as the others switched topics. How could Indy be so open about sex, joking about it even, after everything he’d experienced? He didn’t understand. He was doing everything to keep his trauma a secret—though he was hesitant to even call it that since it was nothing compared to what Indy had been through. And Josh, too, he surmised. How could these two joke about sex, be so open about it?

  Maybe talking was a strategy he could try. Aside from his brothers and Charlie, no one knew. He gently scratched Max’s head as his eyes traveled to Miles, who’d fallen asleep on the couch, amidst all the talking. Would he be a safe place to start?

  He’d been pleasuring Miles for almost two weeks now. He’d kept him at a distance, obviously, but Miles kept asking questions, chatting him up, indicating he wanted more than mere sex. Which was ridiculous considering sex was the whole point of their relationship, for lack of a better word. Miles needed to get off, and Brad, well he got his freak kicks satisfied.

  He loved being here, though, loved spending so much time with Charlie and being in this house. These men were something else indeed. They were unapologetic about sex, and how they enjoyed it. When Connor was spanking Josh—or whatever the fuck he was doing—it was audible in the entire house, but nobody batted an eye. Brad had seen the pure bliss on Josh's face afterward and had concluded this was as consensual as it got.

  Being open and joking about sex might help Indy deal with his trauma, but maybe that was because he was a people person in the first place? Brad was anything but. Teens, he had no problem with, funny enough, but adults? His tongue got all tied into knots at every attempt at small talk. He always said the wrong stuff, offended people, or plain pissed them off. And sooner or later, people always left him, rejected him.

  He’d never found anyone he trusted enough to be himself with, not even Charlie. He knew more than most, but even Charlie didn’t know everything. If Brad told him what he wanted, what he so desperately craved, Charlie, too, would walk away from him.

  No, Brad would do it his way. He’d keep his distance from Miles. A few more days and Miles wouldn’t need him anymore, wouldn’t want him anymore. Then Brad would walk away with his head held high and his dignity intact.

  8

  Miles groaned as he pushed himself up to a sitting position in bed. Recovery was frustrating as fuck, since his mind wanted to go way faster than his body could handle. He could be u
p for about an hour, two if he pushed it, but that was it. He was still spending way more time napping and resting than he wanted to.

  Noah had told him this was normal, especially considering his injuries. It had taken a while for Miles to realize just how lucky he had gotten that Indy had called Noah and asked for medical advice. If he’d left him as Miles had told him to do, Miles would have died from internal bleeding. It had been a sobering realization.

  Wells, his boss, had contacted him several times to check up, and his latest call had been a not so subtle reminder that his mandatory counseling would start as soon as he was fit enough. They’d send a trauma shrink to him if necessary, his boss had told him in no uncertain terms, but the sooner he’d start, the better.

  He knew it was the right thing to do. A trauma like he’d survived was not to be taken lightly. They had shot both Nunez and Fisher at point blank. He still didn’t know if he’d been spared simply because they’d gotten to his room last, or because Crouch had somehow chosen him to be interrogated. He liked to think the first, because the second made him sick to his stomach.

  Crouch. Now there was a depressing thought. He hadn’t even told Indy, but Wells had informed him they’d found Crouch’s body a few miles from the farm. He’d been executed with a single shot, the bullet matching the one used to kill Nunez. They’d simply shot him when he’d outlived his usefulness.

  Turned out his sixteen-year-old daughter had been kidnapped the day before the raid on the farm, thus ensuring Crouch would cooperate and not alert his boss. She’d been held in an abandoned warehouse in her hometown of Rockville, Maryland, but had managed to escape, much to everyone’s relief. She had survived, but her dad hadn’t. It was an unimaginable tragedy for the family.

  The FBI had caught the men who attacked the farm—but only because of the shooting in Boston. They’d made the mistake of contacting lower level lieutenants already in police custody because of the raids the Boston PD had done for days after. Their informant had delivered them a ton of solid intel on the Fitzpatrick’s organization on a silver platter, and they’d used it. There was nothing left of the empire.

  The FBI was still trying to figure out who had tipped off the Fitzpatricks where Indy was held, though, and how they had known Crouch was the agent in charge. It smelled like an inside job, and that was deadly dangerous.

  They were also still investigating the shooting in Boston, in cooperation with the Boston PD. They had zero leads. Zero. Sure, they’d had a ton of tips on the crime tip hotline, but none that had proven useful. Wells had reported the shooter was a fucking ghost, and he’d said it with equal amounts of admiration and exasperation. Technically, it was a job for the Boston Field Office, but since it was tied to the Fitzpatrick case and thus to the murder on that Boston DA Merrick, FBI headquarters had gotten involved.

  Miles was intrigued and had asked Wells to keep him posted, even though he was off-duty while recovering. There were so many questions surrounding both the raid on the Kansas safe house and the shooting in Boston, that Miles had a hard time letting it go.

  A timid knock sounded on his door, interrupting his thoughts.

  “Yeah, come in,” he called out.

  Charlie walked into the room with Max on his heels. “I didn’t wake you?”

  Miles smiled as he pushed himself up farther, leaned back against the head board. Charlie’s face broke open in a happy smile that made Miles’ belly weak. God, Charlie was so fucking gorgeous, but hardly aware of it himself, it seemed. “Nope, I was awake already. What’s up?”

  Charlie seemed to hesitate for a second, then climbed on the bed and faced Miles, pulling his legs up. “I’m bored.”

  Max gave them both a long look, then decided that the floor looked appealing and plopped right down. He had to be the easiest dog Miles had ever seen, always content as long as there were people to hang out with.

  “No one home?” Miles asked.

  “Noah has classes, Indy is teaching a jiujitsu class, Brad won’t be home for another half hour, and Josh and Connor have a session with Master Mark, a Dom.”

  Miles’ eyes widened. “They have a what?”

  Charlie’s eyes gleamed. “That got your attention, huh? Apparently, they visit a local Dom regularly and he teaches them more skills, I guess? Josh said they’d do something today called shi..shibatsu?”

  “Shibari,” Miles supplied. “Bondage. It’s an artful way of tying someone up with ropes.”

  “Yup, that’s it. Josh was really excited about it.”

  Miles cocked his head. “You okay with all of that? I mean, they’re quite the over-sharers here in this house.”

  Charlie shrugged. “Sure. I mean, I don’t know half of the stuff they’re talking about, Josh and Connor I mean, but I can see how much they enjoy it, so why not?”

  “It doesn’t embarrass you, this open talk about sex or hearing them go at it?”

  “Nah. Well, maybe the first week or so with Noah and Indy, but after that, I got used to it. They’re so open about it that it’s hard to feel embarrassed. It’s not like some dirty little secret or something.”

  Miles hummed. That made sense, actually.

  “But it must be harder for you, I guess?” Charlie added.

  Miles grinned at the unintentional innuendo. It took a second for Charlie to register his own pun as well, and he giggled. It was a beautiful sound that filled Miles’ heart with joy.

  Miles swallowed back the joke that was on the tip of his tongue. He still didn’t know Charlie that well, and he didn’t want to hurt him, or trigger bad memories with an ill-timed quip.

  Charlie’s smile dimmed. “You’re doing it again,” he said.

  “Doing what?”

  “Treating me like I’m breakable. You wanted to say something. I could see you hold back.”

  Miles sighed. “I wanted to make a stupid joke and then thought better of it. I don’t want to hurt you, Charlie. That has nothing to do with me thinking you’re fragile or some shit and everything with not knowing you well enough to be aware of where you’re sensitive.”

  Charlie’s jaw set. Miles was pretty damn sure that wasn’t supposed to make him look even more adorable, but it totally did. “I’m not sensitive,” Charlie said between clenched teeth.

  “Sure, you are. We all have our trigger issues. Doesn’t mean we’re weak or fragile.”

  Charlie scoffed. “Bullshit. If that’s true, then where are you sensitive?”

  Miles kept his face neutral. “Holidays, for instance, especially Christmas. I can’t stand it when people complain about how busy it is, or how they don’t like their family coming over, or whatever. I would do anything to celebrate Christmas with my parents and sister one last time. They were killed in an accident years ago, and I still miss them like crazy.”

  Charlie’s face fell. “Oh, god, I’m sorry. I’m a horribly selfish person at times. Brad says so, too.”

  “I don’t believe that,” Miles said. “I don’t think you’re selfish. I think you’ve been dealing with so much that your brain was too occupied with coping with your own shit to have the mental capacity to invest yourself in other people’s shit. You’re not selfish. You’re a survivor. Big difference.”

  Charlie’s eye grew big. “Is that how you see me? Not as weak and fragile? Everyone always does.”

  “Charlie, there’s nothing weak and fragile about you, other than maybe your body in comparison with, say, Connor. You’re not delicate china. You’re like one of those tin cups that come in all kinds of colors. Really pretty, but strong as fuck. Unbreakable.”

  It started with a sob that escaped Charlie’s lips. “He tried to break me.”

  “I know. But he couldn’t, could he?”

  A bigger sob tore through the slender body. “He beat me. Who the fuck beats someone he claims to love?”

  Miles knew what was coming, had seen it enough in witnesses and crime victims. He mentally braced himself, could only hope Charlie would trust him enough to seek c
omfort. “I know, love.”

  “He cheated on me, did Brad tell you? All the time. Who does that?”

  “I know.”

  One more big sob, and then he broke. Miles saw him crumble, right before his eyes. He watched as the dam burst that had held back Charlie’s emotions, witnessed as it shattered into pieces, was washed away by the avalanche of emotions.

  Charlie let out a blood-curling scream, then another one, and another one, until his voice broke and it turned into sobs. Big, body-wrecking, angry sobs.

  Miles held out his arms, and without a second doubt, Charlie crawled toward him, took shelter in Miles’ arms. Miles kissed his head, held him close as he broke into pieces.

  The door to his room opened, and Brad came running in, coming to a sudden halt when he saw Charlie bawling his eyes out in Miles’ arms. Miles’ eyes met Brad’s, and they filled with tears. Underneath his prickly exterior, he was such a softie. And he really cared a lot for Charlie, if not more. Miles had seen him look at Charlie in a way that suggested way more than friendship, but as always, something was holding Brad back.

  Miles gestured with his chin that Brad could hold Charlie from the other side. As much as Miles loved being here for Charlie right now, maybe Brad was who he really needed. Brad nodded, then climbed on the bed and took position behind Charlie. Charlie grabbed his hand and pulled it around him, but he made no indication he wanted to let go of Miles, so he kept holding him. Brad hugged him tight from behind, while Miles held him from the front, and Charlie kept crying until he hiccupped one last time, and promptly fell asleep.

  After a few minutes, Brad whispered, “Thank you. He really needed that release.”

  How could he be so sweet when it came to Charlie and be so defensive toward Miles? Miles didn’t understand. “I don’t mind.”

  “I can move him to our room?”

  Miles studied Brad, his pale cheeks and the dark circles under his eyes. “He can stay here. I don’t mind. I need to nap myself as well.”

  The relief on Brad’s face was palpable. Then his eyes traveled south. “Do you need a release?”