“We bumped into each other a few times, and he was always eager to talk to me. He flirted outrageously, and I was massively confused and...” He averts his eyes, knotting his hands as his words die off.
“Flattered and interested,” I suggest, because I might hate that asshole but he’s a good-looking asshole. Brock has that whole “bad boy wannabe rock star with a chip on his shoulder” look perfected to an artform. I hate it, but I understand why Brock flirting with Keaton would intrigue and confuse him.
The thing about guys like Brock is they can usually smell vulnerability from a mile away, and Keaton likes to see the good in everyone, so he wouldn’t have spent too long questioning Brock’s motives.
“Yeah,” he admits, clearly embarrassed.
“Don’t be embarrassed. Pricks like Brock know how to turn up the charm to get what they want. If he was less than truthful with you, that’s on him. Not you.”
“I’m an idiot, Austen, because I should’ve known he was messing with me. I mean, I was super cautious at the start, but the more he flirted with me, the more I relaxed around him. When he finally admitted he was into me, I told him I had a girlfriend and I didn’t cheat. He told me he respected that and he wouldn’t force anything. He let me know he was there if I wanted to act on our attraction.”
A tortured scowl whips across his face. “I couldn’t get him out of my mind,” he sheepishly admits. “And I wasn’t in a good place. Melissa was dropping hints about getting engaged, and I was stressed over my exams, and still hating myself for living a lie. Brock became a lifeline I latched on to without giving him proper thought. I was careless.” His fingers dig into his thigh. “I should’ve thought it through. Then maybe I might not have made the biggest mistake of my life.”
“What did he do?” At this point, I just need to know.
“I went home for summer break and ended things with Melissa for good. One night, when I was drunk, I stupidly texted Brock that I was single. He replied instantly, inviting me to spend the weekend at his place in Malibu. I was undecided until Melissa showed up at a family party at my house and we got into an argument. I was feeling like a piece of shit, which isn’t uncommon around my ex, and I threw caution to the wind. I texted him I would come and booked the next flight.”
Air hisses through his gritted teeth, and he’s so pale he looks like he might throw up. His tormented eyes meet mine. “You know when you get a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach?” he asks, rubbing a hand over his toned abs.
I nod, because we’ve all had those instinctual moments.
“I knew I’d made a mistake when I arrived at his beach house. Place was crawling with people. Most either drunk or high or both. He’d led me to believe it would just be us. Said nothing about a party, and I was immediately on guard. My gut was screaming at me to turn around and go home, but I ignored it. I...”
He hangs his head, his shoulders slumping, and I pull him into my arms, hugging him tight. He clings to me, wrapping his muscular arms around my shoulders, and my heart hurts for him. His entire body trembles against me, and I’m already plotting various ways to murder Brock Jonas before I’ve even heard what he did.
“I was so fucking lonely, man,” Keaton admits, easing back. He swipes an angry hand at his damp eyes. “I just needed a connection. I thought that’s what was building between Brock and me, but I was such a fool.” I brush the tears off his face as they silently roll down his cheeks.
“I won’t go into all the details, but I got drunk, and I let him take me to his bedroom after a while. I let him fuck me, and he coaxed me into blowing his buddy Rod while he ...”
I grind my teeth to the molars, and my blood oozes liquid rage. “Did he force you to do it? Did he rape you?” I have to ask, because that lowlife is capable of anything.
“No.” Keaton vigorously shakes his head. “I consented to everything, but I shouldn’t have. It was my first time bottoming, and it fucking hurt.”
“He didn’t prepare you,” I surmise, anger crashing through me like a wave.
He shakes his head. “He lubed the condom, but that was it.”
More tears leak out of his eyes, and I hug him to my chest again, pressing kisses into his hair. “He’s an even bigger asshole than I thought. I’m so sorry, Keats. No one should’ve treated you like that.”
“It gets worse.” He swats his tears away as he shucks out of my arms. “The whole thing was a setup. I didn’t know he had a hidden camera in his bedroom until he played the video for me the next morning. I vomited everywhere while he and Rod pissed themselves laughing. When I stopped puking, he told me I had to pay up or he’d stream it on the internet.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Austen
“He’s still blackmailing you,” I say, working hard to keep my anger in check. Right now, Keaton needs compassion and support, not aggression and murderous rage.
“I paid him off, and he handed over the recording, but he kept copies, and now he wants more money.”
“How much did you pay him last week?”
“Fifty thousand.”
A string of expletives leaves my mouth. “Jesus Christ.”
“It’s never going to end, Austen. He’s going to keep coming back, asking for more and more. I don’t know what to do.” Keats buries his head in his hands, and I smooth my hand up and down his back.
“Recording someone without their permission is illegal. Extortion is illegal. You could report him to the cops and get him arrested.”
He lifts his head. “I don’t trust that he hasn’t planned for that. I’m assuming Rod is in on it, though he hasn’t shown his face around me since, and I gave the cash to Brock both times. But I’m guessing Rod has a copy. That he’s the backup. I can’t risk going to the police because if that tape is made public, my life is over, Austen. I will never live it down. I could never show up on campus again, and I would never be able to look my parents in the eye ever again.”
Silence descends, and it’s smothering. Anger mixes with frustration and pain in my gut, and I circle my arm around Keats, offering him the only comfort I can.
“We need to get those copies. Then we’re going to nail that bastard to the wall.”
Keats looks at me curiously. “You’re not disgusted with me?”
I’m not surprised he thinks that. Keaton is so hard on himself sometimes. “Of course not. The only mistake you made was trusting the wrong guy.” He slants me with a skeptical look, and I stare deep into his eyes. “You’re the victim in all this, Keats. What Brock did to you was wrong on so many levels.”
When Dax drove a stake through my heart, I quickly realized how fine the line between love and hate is. I remember spending nights wishing him dead. But that pales in comparison to the thoughts racing through my mind now. I want to punch the living daylights out of Brock Jonas until he doesn’t exist, but I have a feeling the dude would get off on that. Jonas is a slippery snake, and taking him down requires a carefully laid out strategy.
“I’m so unworthy of you,” Keaton says, his eyes glassing over again.
“Hey. Stop stealing my lines.” I fuse my mouth to his in a hard kiss. “Thank you for telling me, and we’re going to fix this.”
“How?” Keats asks.
“I’m not sure yet, but we’ll think of something.” I kiss him again, and he clasps my shoulders, pulling me flush against his body.
“Thanks, man,” Keaton says when we eventually rip our lips from one another. “I’ve been going out of my freaking mind since all this went down. It feels good to tell someone. To share the burden.” It’s easy to see he’s telling the truth, because his features have softened and his body language is more relaxed. He looks relieved, and I’m glad I could give him that.
“We’re in this together. In every single way.” I mean every word.
***
Stepping out of my en suite bathroom, with a towel slung low on my hips, I’m pleasantly surprised to find Keaton waiting on my bed. He is only wea
ring white Hugo Boss boxers, looking far hotter than any man has a right to. His hair is still damp from the shower, curling around the backs of his ears, and his skin is mostly dry save for a few beads of water stuck to the curves of his abs. My cock surges to life, as blood pools south in my groin.
“Can I sleep in here tonight? I don’t want to be alone right now.”
I sit on the edge of the bed beside him. “Sure.” I plant a tender kiss on his lips. “I assumed we’d be sharing a bed from now on anyway.”
Dark heat flashes in his eyes. “I don’t want to impose or expect anything.”
“Your innocence is such a turn-on.”
He pins me with a fierce scowl. “Glad to be such a source of amusement.”
“Keaton.” I plant my hands on his head. “I was speaking the truth. It’s refreshing to be with someone so good. Someone who has no agenda but to be with me. Don’t ever change.”
He threads his hands through his hair. “God, I’m such a mess. I don’t know how to be. I—"
I silence him with a kiss, plunging my tongue into his mouth and wiping all trace of his self-doubt away with every stroke of my tongue and every brush of my lips.
I rest my forehead against his. “Just be yourself.”
“You say that like it’s easy,” he mumbles.
“With me, it is. That’s what makes this special.” I push him down flat on his back, holding my body over his, leaving a tiny gap between us. “Within these four walls, we can always be ourselves. No pretense. No lies. Just truth and authenticity.”
“I can do that,” he says, gripping my hips and pulling me down flush against his body.
We kiss for eternity, crushing our erections against one another, and I get lost in him.
Keaton pulls my towel off, and I remove his boxers, and we reposition ourselves, lying side by side, at opposite ends of the bed, so we can suck each other off at the same time. His warm mouth on my cock feels like heaven, and I moan against his dick as I graze my teeth lightly along his shaft while I play with his balls. When I sense he’s ready to come, I release him and pull my dick out of his mouth before kneeling. “Come on my chest.” My hand wraps around my straining erection and I pump myself quickly, feeling the tingle spread up my spine.
Keaton mirrors my position, jerking his dick in his hand as we face one another, edging closer to the ledge together. We shoot our loads within seconds of one another, coating our chests with each other’s cum, and it’s hot as fuck.
Leaning in, I kiss him hard, pressing against him, enjoying the way our chests stick together. “Hmm.” I move my lips from his mouth to his jaw to his ear. “I love tasting me on your tongue.” Swiping one finger along my cum-slickened chest, I bring it to my mouth, sucking his seed off my flesh in a deliberately slow, seductive fashion. “But I really love tasting you.” I flatten my hands on my chest, rubbing my fingers in his cum and bringing them to my lips. “So fucking addictive.”
“Fucking hell, Austen.” Keaton grabs me to him, kissing me passionately. “You’re so dirty, but I love it.”
“Good,” I say, rubbing my cum into his chest before pulling us both down under the covers. “Because dirty is my middle name and I can’t wait to do all sorts of dirty things to you.”
We fall asleep facing one another with our arms and legs entwined, sporting matching cheesy grins.
***
“I need your help again,” I tell Colton the next evening when we’re walking through campus after practice has ended.
“Shoot,” he says before popping a piece of gum in his mouth.
“Can you find out where Brock Jonas and his bandmate Rod live?”
Colton slams to a halt, tugging on my arm to stop me too. He eyes me curiously as he loudly chews his gum. “Do I even want to know?”
“Depends on how involved you want to be.”
“Shit, dude. The look on your face right now is scaring me.”
I arch a brow, unsure what emotions I’m showcasing. As I held my sleeping boyfriend in my arms last night, my emotions veered between red-hot rage and anguished torment. Any time I think about what Brock did to Keaton, I just want to wrap protective arms around my boyfriend and shield him from any further pain.
Which is why I’m taking action without telling Keaton.
I get that it’s hypocritical, because I was supposed to be coming up with a well-thought-out plan, and I shouldn’t be going behind Keats’ back, but if I tell him what I plan to do, he’ll just tell me not to do it and then worry himself sick overanalyzing every single thing that could go wrong.
So, it’s better he doesn’t know.
I’ll fess up afterward, because I agreed there would be no secrets, but I need to do this, because I have to do something to keep him safe.
“So, don’t ask.” I shrug. I can do this alone although I’d rather have Colton as my wingman.
“Scaring me because that wild, reckless expression you’re wearing excites me more than it should,” he explains, rubbing his hands together. “Whatever you’re planning, I’m all in.”
I slap him on the back. “Knew I could count on you. How long till you can get the intel?”
“I’ll have it for you tomorrow.”
“Don’t make any post-practice plans and bring a change of clothes with you. Non-branded, and wear dark colors.”
“On a scale of one to ten, how illegal is this?”
I’m not sure where breaking and entering fits on the scale, but either way, that won’t be Colton’s job. “Minus one.” I slap him on the back. “I’ll be doing the heavy lifting.”
“That’s not disappointing at all,” Colton deadpans, looking genuinely upset.
I shake my head, grinning. “I’ll make it up to ya,” I promise, because if I can’t find what I want in Rod’s or Brock’s place, we’ll be paying a little visit to both assholes, and I already know how that’ll go down.
***
“You’re sure this is the place?” I ask Colton the next night, looking over at the shabby gray-bricked apartment building across the street with wary eyes. I know the dude is estranged from his family and he’s lost his trust fund, but I was still expecting him to live somewhere nicer. This place was built in the nineteen seventies, and you can tell. At least it doesn’t have security cameras, which is a major plus, because I intend to get in and out of his apartment undetected, leaving no trace.
Turns out, Rod, whatever his name is, is no longer in the band and no longer at Berkeley. Apparently, he OD’d at the end of the summer, and he’s in some expensive rehab in SoCal, so I’m guessing he’s no longer involved in this, and we can eliminate him as an immediate threat. He’s got his own shit to deal with by the sounds of it.
“Hundo P. My source is reliable.” Colton leans back against the wall, and I turn on my side, pressing my shoulder into the red-bricked building.
“Who is your source anyway?” I’m wondering how he knows so much about Brock.
“This girl from my hometown is one of the band’s groupies.”
“If she’s a groupie, why is she helping us?”
She gave Colton a key to Brock’s studio apartment, which makes this a lot easier. Colton has also befriended the cute blonde behind the desk in the lobby, so when it’s time to make a move, he’ll distract her so I can sneak into the elevator. I’ve got to say, as wingmen go, he’s fucking outstanding.
“Because A. She’s had a massive crush on me for years.” He flashes me a blinding-white smile. “Like it’s a giant-sized crush-slash-obsession.” I roll my eyes and shake my head. “And B. Brock screwed her one time and then publicly humiliated her. She’s wanted revenge ever since.”
I probe the empty space above Colton’s head with my gloved hand, and he stares at me like I’m crazy. “What the fuck are you doing, man?” he asks, frowning.
“Performing an ego check.” I pat him on the head. “Don’t worry, yours is still overinflated and growing exponentially by the minute.”
He flip
s me the bird. “Ego check that.”
I chuckle, loving our easygoing friendship. “You didn’t tell her anything, right?”
He thumps me in the upper arm. “What kind of wingman do you take me for? Besides, you told me jack shit, so it’s not like I had anything to pass on.”
I glance across at the building, willing the asshole to hurry up. Colton has it on good authority the band is playing at some dive bar tonight, but Brock has yet to emerge from his place, and it’s getting late.
“It’s better if you don’t know.” I slide my hands into the pockets of my black cargo pants.
“This is still about Kennedy,” Colton says, and it’s not a question.
I nod, because I owe him that much.
He stares at me for a few semi-tense beats, and something shifts in the air. Clearing his throat, he says. “So, are you two officially together now or what?”
I blink profusely, just staring at my best buddy. I’ve suspected Colton had guessed about me, but I’m still shocked he’s gone there. Now that he has, there’s no reason to deny it. I choose to trust him. “How did you know about me?”
“Your girlfriend has only visited you once in over two years, and I’ve overheard enough of your phone conversations to know something wasn’t adding up.” He scrubs a hand along his prickly jawline. “My best buddy back home is gay. We’ve been friends since we were little kids. I’ve watched him struggle with his sexuality. There’s something about you that’s always reminded me of Jon.” His earnest eyes pierce mine. “But I knew for sure last weekend at the party. I saw the way you and Kennedy were checking each other out.”
Well shit. We’ve got to be more careful in public in the future.
“This is new for Keaton, and no one knows,” I explain. “You can’t tell anyone.”
Colton slaps me on the shoulder. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“It honestly doesn’t bother you?”
His shoulders relax against the brick at his back, and his smile is genuine. “Nope. You love who you love.” He shrugs, his smile extending. “I’m just glad you admitted the truth.”
Adoring Keaton: A Stand-Alone Friends-to-Lovers MM Romance (The Kennedy Boys Book 9) Page 10
