Ross
Belladonna Mansion
Jonah’s Room
Virginia Beach Oceanfront
A fatherless, broke kid with the ragged shoes, split to the soles.
The stinky one who showed up to school with matted, unwashed hair because the water in their run-down apartment was off more often than on.
His face had been a battlefield of acne, his frame too thin from meals that were often skimpy if not missed.
His old clothes were infused with a chemical tang from the kerosene his mom used in the heater to warm them when the electric had been disconnected.
He used to loathe the expressions in his teachers’ eyes—he preferred outright disdain over the pity.
Ross remembered when his mother had remarried, sacrificing herself to a man with money so her children wouldn’t starve anymore.
For the first time in fourteen years, he could eat without begging and focus on catching up in school instead of falling further than the three grades he was already behind.
But even in that shiny new neighborhood, Ross had felt average at best—unremarkable features, awkward, still gangly, and convinced no one would ever be interested.
No one except Jonah. Jonah, who had seen past the poverty, past the acne, past the hand-me-down rags, and made him believe—for three blissful years—that he was worth something.
Jonah gazed at him as if he were made of starlight and treated him as if he hung the moon and stars when no one else gave him a second glance. Jonah had met his emptiness with compassion.
Steam curled around them, veiling the walls of the shower like a dreamscape.
It was after one in the afternoon, and Ross still couldn’t believe this was real. Jonah was back in his arms, warm and solid, his broad back pressed against his chest under the hot water.
Six years. Six goddamn years of emptiness, of trying to fill a void with work, with men who could never touch his heart. Now, the missing part of him was here, slippery and wet, sighing into his touch.
Ross’s throat tightened as he ran the loofah over Jonah’s shoulders and down the expanse of his back.
Soft muscles and smooth skin quivered beneath his palm.
His sweet man wasn’t as comfortable in his nakedness as he’d once been.
Ross could feel the hesitation, every stiff breath, every twitch of insecurity.
Years of abuse and shame had carved deep trenches inside his Jonah, but he was determined to fill them with nothing but tenderness and admiration.
He leaned forward, kissing Jonah’s damp neck, inhaling the faint scent of soap and heated skin.
“You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he whispered against his pulse, letting his lips linger.
“Stop it, Ross,” Jonah sighed, lowering his head as if he just couldn’t believe those words…not even from him.
He wrapped both arms around Jonah, locking him inside a circle of his truth, and slowly began to grind his cock against his plump ass. The friction was maddening as he slid back and forth between his cheeks.
Jonah whimpered.
God, those little sounds. They shot down Ross’s spine like electricity, setting his groin on fire.
He pressed his lips behind Jonah’s ear, his voice rough with need and devotion.
“I’ll never leave you again. I don’t care what it takes. I’ll find a way for us to be together, Bear. You’ve always been the one I wanted. Always have been, always will be.”
Jonah shuddered as he tipped his head back onto Ross’s shoulder.
“But your mom…she still relies on you.” His words were hesitant on his trembling lips. “I don’t mind, um, I can…I can put in a transfer to the Charlotte division.”
Ross stilled for a beat, his heart cracking wide open all over again. This was his Jonah—the boy he’d loved, the man he still loved. Always thinking of him, always willing to sacrifice. His throat burned with emotion. He kissed the side of Jonah’s head, whispering fiercely, “You’d do that for me?”
“I know how important your mother is to you, and if you still want me, then I’ll—”
“Christ, that’s why I could never love anyone else. Because no one loves like you do.”
“I’ve never loved anyone else because no one can make me feel as good as you do.”
Ross slid his hand lower. He needed to make his Bear feel everything he was feeling in that moment…times ten.
He braced Jonah with one arm, keeping him tight against him, the other trailing down so he could wrap his fist around Jonah’s cock.
Jonah jerked in his arms, his dick already stiff and leaking.
“That’s it,” Ross groaned, grinding his own cock harder against the swell of Jonah’s ass as he stroked him with long, steady pulls. “Let me remind you how good it feels when it’s just us.”
The water pelted their shoulders, steam rising, as Jonah’s soft whimpers broke into needy moans.
Ross rocked faster—he couldn’t help it—slipping and sliding, stroking him in time with his thrusts.
“So fuckin’ sweet. I can’t wait to be inside you again, Bear. Been dreaming about it for years.” His words were half-growl, half-groan as he nipped against the shell of Jonah’s ear.
Jonah braced one hand on the tiles, the other came back to clutch Ross’s thigh, his whole body shaking.
Ross stroked harder, grinding deeper, until their cries echoed off the walls.
Jonah came first, his release hot and wet over Ross’s hand, trembling as if it were their first time all over again. Ross followed immediately, grinding out his orgasm against Jonah’s back with a hoarse shout, muscles straining as he spilled between them.
He sagged against Jonah, chest heaving, arms still locked tight around him. He pressed gentle kisses into the crook of his neck, over his wet hair, and down the slope of his shoulder.
“Mmm, my sweet teddy bear,” he whispered.
They stood there a long time, catching their breath under the hot water, bodies sated, souls still reeling from being reunited.
Ross reached past him to turn off the water.
“Get dressed, handsome,” he murmured, brushing a gentle kiss against Jonah’s wet temple. “I’m taking you to lunch. We’ll eat, talk, and figure out the rest. Together.”
Jonah smiled up at him, eyes wet, cheeks pink.
He’d never seen anything more perfect.
Jonah
Their footsteps echoed on the marble floor in the cavernous foyer.
Jonah was still buzzing with post-orgasmic bliss as Ross kept his hand pressed comfortingly against the small of his back.
It was a safety he hadn’t felt in years.
They were almost to the door when Thorn emerged from the side hall leading to the east quarters of the mansion.
Unlike him…he wasn’t smiling.
This wasn’t the gracious host of Belladonna, not the patient mender of hearts Jonah had come to know.
He stood there with a black file folder clutched in his hands, his gaze razor-sharp on where he and Ross were connected.
“Mr. Matthews,” Thorn said, his tone so stern that Jonah’s warm and cozy feeling grew cold. “Can I see you and your gentleman in my office?”
Ross bristled. “Can it wait?”
Jonah swallowed.
Thorn’s eyes narrowed. “No. Now.”
The finality in that word left no room for argument. Jonah’s suspicion tangled with dread as he followed Ross down the hall.
Every step felt as if he were walking over quicksand.
Thorn’s office door clicked shut behind them with a sound that felt too much like a lock turning. The room was dimmer than usual, shadows pooling in the corners, darker than the man standing near the window.
Tall. Broad. Trench coat sweeping his boots. His fedora shielded half his face, and while Jonah couldn’t see his eyes, he could still feel the weight of them—cold, unblinking, the kind that saw all. He was like a character from a black-and-white film.
As if Ross could sense his unease, he wrapped his arm around his shoulders.
Thorn didn’t bother with pleasantries. He stormed behind his desk and slammed the file on top of it.
Jonah flinched as if it’d been a gunshot.
“Why have you deceived me?”
The words cracked through Jonah’s chest, leaving him frozen. His stomach bottomed out. Thorn knew. Somehow, he knew.
Ross slid in front of him instantly, shielding him with his body.
“We never lied about anything,” Ross said firmly. “Neither of us.”
Thorn’s eyes burned, a rare blaze of fury in a man usually so controlled. He stabbed a finger at the man in the trench coat.
“That’s Mr. Kavanaugh, my lead investigator. He digs until there’s nothing left hidden. And he tells me truths that my own residents should have told me first .”
Jonah’s throat worked, but no sound came out.
“We never lied ,” Ross gritted.
“Omission of the truth,” Thorn said coldly, “is still a lie, Arnold Williams. That is the name you gave me, yes?”
Ross’s voice was steady, though Jonah could feel the tension rippling through him.
“Arnold Williams is my legal name now. And the fact remains that I came for Jonah. That’s the truth. The rest…I didn’t tell you because you didn’t need to know.”
For a long moment, Thorn just stared with fury swarming in his dark eyes. Then, slowly, through clenched teeth, he spoke, “You also didn’t tell me you were brothers . Jonah and Ross Matthews .”
Jonah’s heart stopped before his world tilted on its axis.
Jonah
Thorn’s voice was like ice as he placed both palms flat on the desk.
“I cannot, and will not , condone or accept this kind of pairing,” he said, his tone curt and sharp in its finality.
Jonah stiffened at Ross’s side.
Ross squared his broad shoulders, his arm still wrapped tight around Jonah’s waist.
“You’ve got it wrong,” Ross said, his voice steady, and jaw tight. “You don’t know the whole story. Jonah and I—we’re step brothers. There’s no blood between us. My mom married his dad when I was fourteen. That’s all, and it’s the truth.”
Thorn narrowed his eyes as if he didn’t believe Ross’s confession.
Jonah’s voice cracked as he added, “And my father…he was an abusive man. He beat my mother until she left. He lost her because of it. He tried to get sober, but after marrying Ross’s mom, he started using again.” Jonah’s eyes shimmered with old pain. “It got too bad for her. She had to run.”
Ross tightened his hold, pulling Jonah against him.
His throat burned, but he pushed through. “She took Ross and his sisters and disappeared. Changed their names. Hid them.” Jonah glanced into Ross’s green eyes, “And I lost him.”
“But I’ve finally found him now,” Ross stressed.
“And I am not losing him again. Not to circumstance, not to secrecy, not to anyone’s damn rules.
He belongs with me. Not with some stranger you might’ve paired him with, who would’ve surely loved him because Jonah is love.
But no one you find will love him like I will. ”
The PI shifted in the corner, but Ross didn’t break Thorn’s gaze.
“You don’t have to condone it,” Ross said, his voice fierce but raw. “I appreciate what Belladonna wanted to give him. But Jonah’s coming home with me. And I swear to you, Thorn, I’ll love him harder than any gentleman you could’ve chosen.”
For a long, aching moment, Thorn was silent. His jaw worked, his expression unreadable.
Jonah trembled in Ross’s arms, as Ross pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, whispering against his hair, “I love you, sweet Bear. Always.”
Finally, Thorn exhaled and leaned back in his chair as his sternness softened, the hard lines of his face easing into something gentler, something almost like relief.
“That,” Thorn said quietly, “is all I’ve ever wanted for Jonah. He deserves it.”
Jonah’s eyes welled as he broke free of Ross’s hold and went to Thorn. He wrapped his arms around him in a fierce hug. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice thick with tears.
For the first time since they’d walked into his office, Thorn smiled. It was small, but it was genuine. He patted Jonah’s back, his eyes flicking to Ross with something like respect.
Ross again laid a protective hand on the small of Jonah’s back.
“We’ll make sure you get an invitation to the wedding,” Ross said with a grin.
Jonah turned to him, his eyes blazing—bright, beautiful, radiant. Ross smiled the kind of smile he’d dreamed of seeing again every night for six years.
The joy he felt was overwhelming.
His life was finally about to begin.