Against the Rules

by A. R. Barley

And if he couldn’t? He’d be stuck three thousand miles away with no support system and sand chafing his ass.

  Leaving Halston wasn’t an option. He’d rather take the job at the university than leave town. Even if he had to sell the house eventually—property taxes didn’t pay themselves—he’d find an apartment nearby. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Good to know.” Long lashes framed steel-gray eyes. “You never told me about your family. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

  “Just cousins like Nora.” Kelly nodded toward the counter so there’d be no mistaking who he was talking about. “But Aunt Carly’s got six kids and Aunt Emma and Uncle Matt have four. Then there are the more distant relations. Our delivery boy last night? His girlfriend is some kind of cousin. I think our grandmothers were cousins.”

  A blink of surprise. “You weren’t kidding when you said there were a lot of them.”

  “Nope.” Kelly chuckled. “And the ravening part’s not too far off either. Last Christmas we ate two twenty-pound turkeys and ten pies. No leftovers.”

  Sunday dinner was a little more self-contained. It would just be his aunts, his uncle and a handful of cousins. Still, they’d spend half the time checking to make sure he was all right, and the rest of the time telling him what he needed to do next.

  He’d rather get a colonoscopy. From a doctor with cold hands.

  Maybe he should ask Ian to go with him—at least that way Aunt Carly wouldn’t get on him about not having a boyfriend—but it seemed less like a date and more like cruel and unusual punishment.

  Still, if he played his cards right, maybe he could arrange to meet up with Ian afterward.

  It would give him something to look forward to.

  Chapter Nine

  Grading papers wasn’t hard. Ian pointed out incorrect spelling, gave points for a well-developed argument, and wrote a note for students who didn’t understand the topic to see him during office hours. After two years teaching the same class he could do it almost by rote, but it still didn’t leave him much time to talk with his companion.

  Luckily, Kelly seemed happy enough to work quietly across from him.

  Kelly’s workspace was as tidy as his dorm room. His posture could have been cut from stone, unyielding. His fair hair was neatly brushed. His cheeks were flushed a delicate pink. His sapphire eyes were narrowed in concentration. His fingers moved skillfully, playing the keyboard like it was a musical instrument. Every once in a while he’d let out a happy hum like he was particularly pleased with a bit of phrasing.

  Fuck.

  How was Ian supposed to concentrate with half a hard-on? He was supposed to be the one in control—the dominant partner—but there was something about Prince Charming that had him panting like a schoolboy.

  Not that he’d ever let Kelly see his sudden rush of emotion. He took a deep breath, schooling his features as the redheaded barista materialized at the table with another cup of coffee. Her gaze was curious and appraising, her sky-blue eyes familiar and distinctive enough that he might have recognized their relationship if he’d been paying attention.

  Instead of acting like a jealous asshole.

  Nora gave her cousin a less than subtle thumbs-up before heading back to the counter.

  “Your cousin doesn’t mind that you’re gay?”

  “Nope.” Kelly snickered. “The whole family’s Irish Catholic—it comes with the last name—but like Aunt Carly says, ‘Just because you get down on your knees doesn’t mean you can’t think for yourself.’”

  Ian sputtered in surprise. “Sounds like good advice in any number of situations.”

  “Oh, yeah. Carly’s full of advice.”

  Kelly had mentioned aunts, uncles and cousins, but he hadn’t said a word about his parents. The realization made Ian frown. Was it a simple oversight or had something happened between Kelly and the happy couple in the picture on his desk? Were they not as accepting as his Aunt Carly?

  Ian’s own parents hadn’t exactly been all unicorns and rainbows when he’d sauntered out of the closet at sixteen. These days they mostly spoke to him on birthdays and holidays—or if his brother was in trouble—and his sister wasn’t much better. The only member of his family who’d been completely accepting from the beginning had been his brother, Andrew.

  The thought made Ian’s brain itch, reminding him that he still owed Andrew a telephone call.

  Hell. He was a shitty brother, but he didn’t want to feel like a failure. He couldn’t have another fight about money. Andrew was a gambler. An addict. He had a disease. He’d pushed too hard, gone too far, and lost everything. Not even a six-month stint in the county lockup and losing his position as an associate at one of the best law firms in Chicago had been enough to help him regain control.

  By the time the last paper had been graded, the gathering dark had pooled against the windows and the evening crowd had descended on the little coffee shop. College students with laptops and headphones littered every flat surface, typing away merrily at papers or—more likely—social media updates.

  Ian leaned forward. “You want to get out of here and grab some dinner?”

  Kelly checked the time on his watch. “It’s early for dinner. Why don’t we skip straight to dessert? You mentioned something about your apartment?”

  “You want to get your car and follow me over?”

  “Where do you live?” Kelly started putting his things in his bag. He nodded when Ian named one of the larger apartment complexes in town. “I can get back from there if you don’t want to give me a ride home.”

  “Never said I wouldn’t give you a ride. Some guys just like having their own wheels.”

  Kelly shrugged. He finished packing up and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Doesn’t matter to me. Like I said, I can get back from there if I need to.”

  Ian would definitely be giving Kelly a ride back to campus when they were done, even if it was just for the peace of mind that would come from knowing he was tucked up safe and sound at home instead of wandering the streets at night. Or, maybe he’d just have to keep Kelly tied to his bed until daybreak. “Are you working tonight?”

  “Yeah, my shift starts at ten o’clock. I traded to get next Friday off. Not that it will do me much good.”

  “What’s happening next Friday?”

  “Eighties night at Ale Mary’s. It’s going to be a blast. I had my costume all picked out, but Nick probably won’t let me through the door.”

  “Go with me,” Ian said. Sure, he hated the nightclub, but maybe it would be more fun going with someone else. He pictured himself walking through the pink doors with Kelly on his arm dressed in a pair of skintight silver pants a la David Bowie, and his dick twitched. “We can go together. I’ll get you through the door.”

  “Yeah, that’d probably work.” Kelly shoved his hands into his pockets and followed him out to where he’d left the BMW two blocks away.

  The drive to Ian’s apartment was more than twenty minutes, just a little too far to walk even when the weather was nice out. They didn’t say a word the entire time, but that didn’t mean Ian wasn’t aware of every move Kelly made. Every breath—every heartbeat—filled the small car. Then there was the heat coming off his body and the way his fingers splayed out across his firm thighs.

  When they finally pulled into the building’s parking lot, Ian parked but didn’t get out of the car. There were a few things he needed to know before taking Kelly upstairs to bed. “What are your limits?”

  “I don’t have any—”

  “I warned you about lying to me, baby,” Ian growled. Without limits he wouldn’t know when to stop. There was a hitch in his breath. He wouldn’t be able to keep Kelly safe. Not in his apartment and not on the dance floor at Ale Mary’s. “You just earned your first punishment. Now, tell me about your limits bef
ore your mouth writes a check your ass can’t cash.”

  “My ass is ready, willing and eager.” There was a long pause. “My personal motto is there’s no such thing as too much lube. Other than that...no blood, no bodily fluids except the obvious, no lasting scars. Condoms for anal, of course. I’ve never actually thought about the rest of it before.”

  And how many times had Kelly played without imposing limits. Ian took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning to do anything too extreme tonight.”

  “You know I like it rough—”

  “You also said it wasn’t about the pain. It’s about the feeling afterward—serious players call it subspace. I’m going to see if I can get you there without causing too much damage. Of course, I can’t guarantee you’ll like all of it, but you’ll be able to stop anything before it goes too far.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Kelly grinned impishly. “You going to give me a safe word?”

  “Eventually, but for tonight why don’t we stick with ‘no means no.’” Ian took a deep breath, mentally adjusting his plans for the night. They had a little more than three hours before he needed to drive Kelly back to campus, plenty of time to do what he wanted. His cock bobbed eagerly. “We’re going to get out and walk into my apartment. When we get inside, I want you on your knees. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The honorific was unasked for and—in the casual scene Ian was setting up—completely unnecessary, but that didn’t stop his heart from thump-thump-thumping away. Damn, it sounded good on those bowed pink lips.

  “Come on.” Ian got out of the car and led Kelly up the stairs to his second-floor apartment. He hadn’t bothered to put on his gloves, and his fingers were numb by the time he managed to turn the key in the lock.

  The door popped open and he stood aside to let Kelly in first. His ears were bright red from the cold and the wind, but that didn’t stop him from walking ten feet into the living room and settling gracefully to his knees. His posture was absolutely perfect. Every breath was even. He was in complete control of himself and his surroundings.

  Ian frowned at the thought. He didn’t want Kelly in control. He wanted him off balance, unsure of what was coming next and desperate to find out. He wanted his trust...to be the one he turned to at the end of the night. He needed to be the man who kept him safe. “I’m going to get some supplies.” He took off his wool coat and hung it on the hook by the door before walking into his bedroom. “Don’t move a muscle. Keep looking straight ahead.”

  Kelly let out a hum of acknowledgement, the noise going straight to Ian’s groin. He unsnapped his jeans as he went, not stripping down to his boxers but giving himself room to breathe while he opened the chest at the foot of his bed and found what he wanted.

  Living on a grad student’s—and then associate professor’s—salary meant he’d never had the money to invest in larger pieces of equipment. He didn’t have a Saint Andrew’s cross or a sling, but what he had was quality. His fingers lingered over the buttery leather of cuffs and straps, the cat o’ nine tails he’d commissioned from a friend in Chicago, and the tawse. His hand hovered over the well-conditioned bullwhip he’d been known for in the clubs in Los Angeles.

  The whip had been his favorite toy once upon a time. He liked the weight of it in his hand and the way it caught men’s eyes as he walked through a crowded club. He stroked the long wooden handle, considering, before moving on.

  There would be plenty of time to get out the whip if things worked out between them.

  For now, Ian wanted to prove that Kelly could achieve his desired result without putting himself in danger. He found what he was looking for near the bottom of the trunk. He took them out and carried them into the living room, careful to keep out of Kelly’s line of sight.

  He placed his treasure carefully on the coffee table, then went to get himself a cup of water with plenty of ice.

  “Want anything?” he asked.

  “A quick orgasm. Yours or mine, don’t care, but I want to get on with it.”

  Ian choked back a laugh. “Greedy brat, or is it just that your legs are getting tired?”

  “I could sit like this for hours.”

  Too bad they didn’t have the time to test out that theory.

  “Take off your shirt,” Ian ordered.

  “And the pants?”

  It wasn’t necessary for this stage of play, but Ian didn’t see the harm if it meant skipping steps later. “If you can do it without turning around.”

  Kelly pushed himself back onto his feet in one easy move. His jacket hit the couch followed quickly by his T-shirt. Apparently when sex was in the offering, tidiness was less important.

  Lean muscles bunched and pulled under creamy skin and the palest dusting of hair as Kelly reached down to take off his boots and unbutton his jeans. Long fingers tugged at the zipper, the sound of metal teeth separating audible in the quiet room. He shoved the heavy denim down over his narrow hips, kicking the pants off onto the ground.

  The clever fingers that had moved so effortlessly across the keyboard paused at the waist of his charcoal boxer briefs.

  Ian smiled. He’d given Kelly permission to take off his shirt and his pants, but he hadn’t said anything about the boxers. It would be interesting to see what his boy did next. And since when was he thinking about Prince Charming as his boy?

  It was too soon, but Ian couldn’t stop himself from grinning at the thought. For the first time since Los Angeles he found himself wanting a relationship—yearning to keep a man for more than a few days or weeks. Even if he couldn’t be trusted to keep him safe long-term.

  Then those soft cotton boxer briefs hit the ground and Ian’s breath caught in his throat. Damn, he was perfect.

  His naked body was strong and pale without being overly defined, like Michelangelo’s David come to life in Ian’s poor excuse for a living room.

  Kelly’s cock was hard and throbbing, flushed a deep pink against the pale skin of his thighs. It was perfectly proportioned for his lean body, just the right size to fit in Ian’s hand...his mouth...with full heavy balls and a slick streak of pre-come decorating the thick head.

  And then he knelt back down. “Will this do, sir?”

  Fuck, yeah.

  Chapter Ten

  Ian’s dark complexion almost hid the rosy blush on his cheeks. Either the dominant was less of a badass than he liked to pretend or he was out of practice. Kelly would bet money it was the latter. There weren’t a lot of clubs in the area that catered to those whose tastes were less vanilla and more double fudge brownie.

  “Good boy.” His gaze was open and hungry. His mouth was open, like he was tasting the air. He was still fully dressed except for his jacket. His ruby-red T-shirt skimmed his broad shoulders and warmed his complexion while dark jeans clung to muscular thighs. He took a long sip of water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

  Kelly couldn’t drag his gaze away. A small whimper flooded the room. It took him a moment to realize the noise had come from him. He wanted to lick his way across that muscular body, losing himself in the taste of skin and the musk of sex.

  But that didn’t stop his heart from fluttering anxiously when Ian walked out of sight, moving around behind Kelly’s back. The ugly green carpeting muted his booted footsteps, but it couldn’t hide the clink of a glass being left on the coffee table or a distinct rustle of cloth.

  Was Ian taking off his shirt? Drawing that soft red cotton up over his shoulders to reveal acres of dark skin and the six-pack abs he’d been teasing Kelly with all afternoon.

  Or, was he removing his pants to show his growing erection? Kelly hadn’t seen Ian’s cock yet, but he’d felt it. He knew it was bigger than his own, thicker. It would feel like heaven in his ass or his mouth.

  His head twi
tched. He wanted to turn around, to drink in Ian’s body. He needed to see—

  “Don’t move,” Ian said. Long fingers reached out to twist in Kelly’s hair, holding his head firmly in place, while his other hand moved to rest gently on his shoulder.

  “I want to see you.”

  “Not until I give you permission.”

  “Please—”

  “Do you trust me?”

  Trust? Kelly barely knew Ian, but he liked what he’d seen so far. He nodded slowly. His gaze never shifted. He never turned. He just waited to find out what was going to happen next.

  Fingers trailed across his spine. “Now, we’re going to talk about your punishment.”

  “A spanking,” Kelly murmured happily. He wanted to feel the heat of Ian’s hand against his skin, warming him up with a soft slap before putting some muscle behind it. He’d have to work all night with his jeans rubbing against sore skin, and he’d wake up in the morning with bruises in the shape of Ian’s hand. His body shivered happily in anticipation.

  “When you clearly want it so badly?” Ian chuckled. His breath was hot against the delicate skin at the back of Kelly’s neck. His grip never loosened in Kelly’s hair. “Now, I believe in letting the punishment fit the crime. You told me you didn’t have any limits. You didn’t know better, but it was still a lie.” His lips grazed Kelly’s skin with every word, nuzzling against him. “So, I’m going to show you one of the limits you could have set.”

  There was a short pause where the only thing in the small apartment was silence and then...

  Strong teeth chomped down at the base of his neck, quick and hard. Pain ripped through his body as Kelly flinched in shock and surprise, but there was no escaping, not with Ian’s fingers still curled tight in his hair and his other hand still firm against his shoulder.

  Fuck. Adrenaline seared its way through Kelly’s veins as panic and desire warred inside him. It wasn’t just the pain—although there was a lot of pain—it was something primal and electrifying. Fear. Vulnerability. He wanted to twist away, to bend forward and throw his hands up over his neck, but he couldn’t move away from the reassuring hand on his back.