by Nora Phoenix
Table of Contents
Publisher's Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Meet Nora Phoenix
Acknowledgments
Coming Soon
Excerpt from No Fear
No Limits
No Shame Series Book 2
Nora Phoenix
No Limits (No Shame Series Book 2) by Nora Phoenix
Copyright ©2017 Nora Phoenix
Cover design: Sloan Johnson (Sloan J Designs)
Proofreading: Tanja Ongkiehong-Maas and Jenni Lea
All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form by any means without the written permission of the copyright holder, except in case of brief quotations and embodied within critical reviews and articles.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The use of any real company and/or product names is for literary effect only. All other trademarks and copyrights are the property of their respective owners.
This book contains sexually explicit material which is suitable only for mature readers.
www.noraphoenix.com
Contents
Publisher's Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Meet Nora Phoenix
Acknowledgments
Coming Soon
Excerpt from No Fear
Publisher's Note
This novel depicts mature situations and themes that are not suitable for underage readers. Reader discretion is advised. Please note there’s a trigger warning for mentions of sexual abuse and sexual violence, including rape.
1
The house was blissfully quiet, and Josh released a slow exhale. He was curled up on the couch with a gay romance, snuggling under a velvety soft fleece blanket. December in New York, what a fucking nightmare. Wind cutting straight through your clothes to creep into your bones, flurries whipping around the house, with the forecast predicting more snow to come in the next few days—and winter hadn’t even started yet. Couldn’t Noah have found a hospital in, say, Florida to work at? Josh pulled the blanket up high, sighing as he dove back into his book.
The doorbell rang, and Josh almost jumped up. He took a deep, steadying breath before getting up to the hallway. He recognized him through the glass in the door, and his hand froze on the doorknob.
Connor.
The cop was not in uniform this time, but sported olive-green cargo pants underneath his snow-dusted black winter jacket, a gray beanie protecting his head. Connor raised his hand in an awkward wave when he noticed Josh behind the door. What did he want now?
Josh slowly opened the door. “Officer O’Connor,” he said, his tone formal even though his pulse was totally speeding up.
The man was so fucking gorgeous, but Josh wasn’t making a fool out of himself by assuming anything. Even if Noah and Indy were convinced the cop was gay and into him, Josh wasn’t buying it. It had been three months since the robbery. If he’d been interested in Josh, Connor would’ve stopped by sooner. Josh couldn’t blame the cop. No one would want to date a fuck-up like Josh, let alone a man as perfect as Connor.
“Call me Connor,” the cop said. “Can I come in?”
Out of habit, Josh opened the door wide and let the man step inside. With Connor’s massive body next to him, the hallway seemed small and crowded. Connor stomped his black boots to get rid of the snow, then took off his beanie and zipped his jacket open.
“How are you?” Josh asked, not quite able to keep the concern out of his voice. “Noah said you got hit by shards of concrete two months ago. Are you fully recovered?”
Connor blinked a few times. “I’m fine. They were minor cuts that healed quickly.”
“Oh,” Josh said. “That’s good. And your partner?”
Something flashed in Connor’s eyes. “Thanks to Noah, he’s alive. It’ll be a spell before he’s back on the job, but that’s not important.”
A silence followed. Josh sighed inwardly. Was he supposed to say something? God, he sucked at social interactions like this. “Erm, Noah and Indy aren’t home,” he offered. Connor thinks Indy is a woman, he reminded himself. He’d better not fuck that up.
Connor jammed his hands into his pockets. Is he nervous as well? “That’s okay. Actually, I wanted to talk to you.”
“To me?”
“Could we maybe sit down?”
The confidence the cop had displayed in the previous two meetings had vanished. It was disconcerting, somehow. What was going on? Still, Josh nodded.
Connor took his jacket off, hung it on a coat hanger in the hall way closet. Stupid, you should have taken his jacket, Josh berated himself. He was always too slow. Connor quickly unlaced his boots, leaving them on the doormat.
Wordlessly, Josh gestured to the living room and followed Connor as he walked in. He was wearing a tight, black long sleeve shirt that accentuated every one of his powerful muscles. Josh couldn’t deny himself a quick look at the guy’s ass. Damn, the cop was packing a perfect, firm butt in those cargo pants. Well, everything about the cop was muscular and toned. Was he really gay, or had Noah and Indy been yanking his chain?
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, more out of politeness than expectations. “I have homemade lemonade?”
“You make your own lemonade?”
Josh shrugged. “Sure. Beats the overly sweet store-bought stuff.”
“I’d like to try it.”
Josh frowned as he poured two glasses of lemonade in the kitchen. The cop was obviously off duty, so what the hell was he doing here, and what did he want to talk to him about?
He put one glass on the coffee table in front of O’Connor who had found a spot on the sofa. Josh sat in one of the reading chairs and waited, clutching his own glass.
“Did Noah say anything?” Connor finally asked.
“About what?”
“About me, or what he and I talked about in the hospital?”
“No. He only told me you were hurt, but that it wasn’t serious, and that your partner needed surgery. Noah takes the privacy of his patients seriously.”
“Oh, okay.” Connor dragged a hand through his hair, avoiding Josh’s look. His hair was high and tight, though a tad longer than he would have worn it as a Marine, probably. “I’d hoped he’d talked to you.”
Josh's stomach was doing twists that were acutely uncomfortable, and his palms were getting sweaty. “You wanna maybe get to the point? You’re making me nervous, and that’s not a good thing for a guy with PTSD. Spit it out.”
O’Connor looked as if he was in front of a firing squad. What the hell was bothering him? “I wanted to ask you out,” he finally managed.
Josh barely avoided dropping his glass of lemonade, instead plunked it down on the table. Good
thing they had thick, solid glassware. “You want to ask me out,” he repeated stupidly.
“Yeah. Noah said it would be okay.”
“You want to ask me out,” Josh said again, his brain simply not able to come up with anything else.
Connor got up from the couch, stuffed his hands back in his pockets. “Look, I get it, okay? Apparently, your boyfriend has a nasty sense of humor. He told me you guys weren’t really together, and that he wouldn’t mind me asking you out. Joke’s on me, okay? Very funny, haha. I’ll leave now.”
Josh's brain was frozen, unable to react. Connor wants to ask me out? What the fuck? Why?
When he finally came to his senses, Connor was gone, closing the front door with an angry bang.
I’ve fucked it up. This gorgeous man apparently was interested in him, though heaven knew why, and he’d fucked it up because his brain had been slow as shit again. And what was worse, Josh didn’t even have his number.
Josh slowly sagged backwards in the chair. Why on earth would a man like Connor be interested in him? The guy knew he had PTSD, that he was basically a fuck-up, right? And what the hell had Noah been thinking, talking about him to Connor, telling him they weren’t really together. Couldn’t he at least have given Josh a heads-up?
He buried his head in his hands. He’d never find anyone. Not like Noah loved Indy. God, the two of them were amazing, if equally sickening at times. He wanted that, too.
Noah had changed—he was less angry, happier. And witnessing Indy’s transformation from a frightened, skittish guy into a more relaxed, confident person was nothing short of amazing. Josh loved Indy with all his heart—how could anyone not love this sweet man? Noah and Indy made every effort to include him, let him still sleep with them, and Noah had fucked him a few times even after he was together with Indy. When Noah was tired or in pain and his control was thin, he chose Josh over Indy. Indy couldn’t handle rough sex, and Josh, well, he got off on it. Which, of course, was completely embarrassing, but between the three of them there was no judgment. They each came with emotional scars.
Josh wanted that for himself, someone he could love and who loved him. Someone who would accept him being fucked up and would be okay with it. Someone who wouldn’t judge his sexual desires…maybe even satisfy them?
He’d done some research on the whole Dom/sub thing after what Indy had said, and boy, had that blown his mind. Most of it was too kinky to even consider or downright freaky. But some of the videos he’d watched had exhilarated him. He’d been completely turned on, had jacked himself off hard. Afterward, he’d felt like crap, though. His chances of finding someone who would do that with him, within a loving relationship, were practically zero. How the fuck would he ever find someone, sitting at home, scared as he was of going out? And who the hell would love a damaged fuck-up like him?
Connor is interested. Was. There was no way he’d still be, not after Josh had basically ignored him. Maybe if he explained that it wasn’t intentional? But how the fuck could he manage that if he didn’t even have his phone number?
Being a cop had definite positive sides, but damn, Connor hated the shitload of paperwork involved. He sighed as he started filling out an arrest report on his computer. He and his partner had caught a guy driving with at least three times the legal amount of alcohol in his system, plus some other as of yet undetermined substances. It had been a fucking miracle the guy had even been able to put his keys in the ignition. Thank God he’d hit a tree before crashing into another car, or worse, killing someone.
“O’Connor, visitor,” Lucky shouted.
Connor looked up from his screen. Who would come and visit him here? He debated asking Lucky for a name, then shrugged. He might as well go see who it was. He rose from his chair, stretched his back and cracked his neck, before making his way to the front waiting room.
Lucky, the station’s receptionist, indicated his visitor with a jerk of her chin, and Connor followed her gesture.
Josh.
His faded Pats cap hid most of his face, but Connor would recognize him anywhere. He was sitting ramrod straight in one of the chairs, his eyes trained on the ground, a crumpled magazine in his hands.
Connor’s heart skipped a beat. What was Josh doing here? Was he upset about the way Connor had left four days ago? It had been wicked rude, Connor admitted to himself, but he’d been so fucking humiliated. Disappointed, too, in Noah Flint. He’d thought the guy had morals, but apparently not.
He jammed his hands into the pockets of his uniform pants. “Josh,” he said simply.
Josh's head shot up. He fumbled with the magazine in his lap, almost dropping it before putting it on the chair next to him. Avoiding Connor’s eyes, he rose. “I was wondering if we could maybe talk somewhere? In private?”
“Yah. Sure. Lucky, is there a room free?”
Lucky checked her list. “Room 3, for about half an hour.”
Connor nodded. They’d be done way before that, was his guess. After all, what was there left to say? “Thanks.”
“Follow me,” he said to Josh. Damn, he sounded way too professional, too emotionally closed off. Like Josh was a citizen who came to file a complaint. What else could he do? He refused to let Josh break him again.
Josh had been so shy and flustered, yet so adorable in that store. Connor had barely been able to do his job, too shaken to concentrate. All he could think of was please, let this guy be gay. He’d thought Josh was, but the dynamic between Josh and Indy had thrown him off. And when Indy confessed to kissing Josh, and he hadn’t seemed like he minded, Connor had been convinced he’d been wrong. Josh had to be straight.
But even after that, he had to see him again, had to know for certain. And when he’d come to his house and Noah had claimed him as his boyfriend, Connor had been sure everyone would have been able to hear something break inside of him. Still, he’d tried again, had stupidly believed Noah when he’d told him Josh was available. How Josh had gotten under his skin that fast, he had no idea, but he was done. His heart was too damn fragile to handle another rejection from this man.
He led the way to the interrogation room, which was a fancy word for a small room with a table and four chairs. Out of habit, he made sure the recording equipment was turned off.
“Grab a seat,” he said. “Do you want coffee?”
Fuck, he hoped not. His stomach swirled uncomfortably even thinking about the smell.
Josh lowered himself in one of the chairs. “No. I don’t drink coffee.”
Connor mentally shook his head. Why does Josh have to be so damn perfect? He took a seat across from him, let out a long breath. “What can I do for you?”
Josh winced. Was Connor’s professionalism bothering him? Connor’s heart softened. He had to take it easy on the guy. It wasn’t his fault, and besides, he had PTSD. Not something to trifle with.
“What’s wrong, Josh?” he asked more friendly.
For the first time, Josh looked up to meet his eyes. “You left,” he said, sounding shocked, then jerked his head as if to shake himself out of something. His eyes cast down again.
“Are you okay?” Connor asked, his voice even warmer.
Josh clenched his fists, then released again. “Yeah. Sorta. I wanted to know why you walked out.”
Connor sighed. He should not have left like that. It was rude, cowardly, and considering his issues a nasty thing to do to Josh. He should’ve had the balls to face him, talk it out. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was mad, but I shoulda given you a chance to say something.”
Josh raised his stunning blue eyes to meet Connor’s, and it took Connor’s breath away. Damn, the guy was so beautiful. Handsome, would be the manlier word, but it didn’t fit Josh. He truly was beautiful, pushed all kinds of protective buttons inside Connor he hadn’t even been aware of possessing.
“Because of either the PTSD or the meds I take, my brain is slow sometimes, especially when I’m surprised or shocked. It takes me a while to respond,” Josh said, his eyes al
l but pleading with Connor to understand.
Connor winced inwardly. Damn, he should have known. He’d been a complete asshole. God, what a Charlie Foxtrot. “I’m really sorry. I should’ve given you the opportunity to respond. I thought you were making fun of me or trying to find a way to let me down gently.”
Those blue eyes never left his. “I wasn’t. I was shocked.”
“Why?”
Josh was quiet for a bit, but Connor gave him time. “You’re gay,” Josh said. It wasn’t a question, so much as a statement.
“Yes.” Connor’s tone was defensive. Did Josh realize how momentous this occasion was? He’d never admitted this to anyone, ever.
“Is that why you came to the house when you were looking for Indy, instead of calling? Because you liked me?”
What, were they playing twenty questions now? Wasn’t it obvious? “I wasn’t sure if you were gay.”
Josh snorted. “Dude, your gaydar is worse than mine.”
Connor relaxed, a smile tugging at his lips. “That’s what Noah said.”
“Nothing wrong with Noah’s gaydar.”
“Is he gay?” Connor asked, finally daring to broach the topic they kept avoiding. “Are you together or not?”
“He’s with Indy now.”
Connor managed to keep the shock off his face. Noah and Indy were together? Was Noah bisexual? Interestingly enough, Josh didn’t seem upset about it. He’d said it factually, with love, even. “And you’re okay with that.”
“Mostly.”
Connor needed to know. “But you are gay, though?”
“I am.”
“That’s good,” Connor said, then cleared his throat. So much for playing it cool. Oh, fuck it, that ship sailed long ago. You might as well go all in. “Look, before we continue this conversation, can you at least say something?”
