Against the Rules

by A. R. Barley

  When Kelly finally sent his last message of the night from the local emergency room—where he was holding the hand of a sophomore who’d jumped off a third-story balcony and landed poorly—Ian was more than just impressed. He was damn proud.

  Kelly might be a submissive in the bedroom, but out in the world he was strong and competent. Any man would be lucky to have him as a partner.

  That is...if Ian ever decided to let him go.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sunday night dinner was a longstanding tradition. Back when Kelly’s mom had been alive it had rotated between households, but since her death it was always held—rain or shine—at Aunt Carly’s mammoth dining table with its lifetime of dings and scrapes. “Kelly O’Connor.” Aunt Emma cheered as he settled into a seat beside her. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

  “Just late.” Kelly gave her a peck on the cheek.

  “Probably trying to avoid your sister’s sermon, Emma.” Uncle Matt grinned from across the table. “Too bad, kid, Carly’s still pulling the ham out of the oven.”

  “Hush.” Emma wiggled her fingers at her husband. “You know she finds strength in her faith.”

  “She finds strength in being a pain in my ass.” Matt snagged a biscuit from the bowl on the table, earning glares from everybody at the table under the age of thirty. The last time one of Kelly’s cousins had tried to eat before Carly said grace they’d ended up doing all the dishes for a month straight, but Matt had always enjoyed flouting the rules.

  He broke the biscuit in two and handed half to his youngest son. Colin was a high school football player; he could use the carbs.

  “Better finish that quick.” Emma straightened up as the kitchen door swung outward and a large ham walked out dragging a tiny woman.

  Aunt Carly might not be more than a hundred pounds soaking wet, but it was all grit. “Kelly.” She beamed when she saw him at the end of the table. “You made it, finally.”

  “I’ve been busy working on my senior project.” And playing kinky sex games with a university professor. Kelly flushed at the thought. He probably shouldn’t tell his aunt that. She’d have a heart attack, right after she called President Aldridge and accused Ian of everything from perversion and corruption of innocents to mass genocide.

  “Right.” Nostrils flared as she slammed the ham down on the table. “The great American novel. You know my Kenneth’s just finishing his second year of law school? He’s clerking for the summer with a judge.”

  “Good for him.”

  Utensils rattled as serving dishes began to make the long parade around the table. “Sorry,” Nora mouthed silently as she passed him a bowl of mashed potatoes from where she was sitting on the other side of her mother. She was dressed in a bright green dress that clashed with her hair, but it didn’t change facts—she was a carbon copy of Emma...and they both looked like Kelly’s mother back when she’d been young and healthy.

  Then had come the diagnosis: breast cancer. It had seemed like a joke at the time. Kelly had been starting college, too busy getting his books and classes together to join his mother at appointments. He hadn’t understood the treatment options until later—and he definitely hadn’t known about her battle with the insurance company. Halston University had an excellent employee insurance plan, but it still didn’t cover everything she needed.

  And she’d grown smaller and weaker...she’d worn knit hats even in the middle of summer to hide her bald head and keep her warm. There’d been no more dancing, no singing, but she’d still laughed with him long into the night. She’d still smiled, even through her husband’s car accident and funeral.

  She’d smiled right up until the day she died.

  “What are your plans for the summer?” Carly asked.

  “I’m going to poke out my eyeballs with a spork.”

  The table went silent. Nobody moved. At the far end, Carly’s cheeks blistered a deep red. Her gaze narrowed.

  “What’s a spork?” Colin interrupted before his aunt could start breathing fire.

  “You know—” Matt nudged his son in the shoulder “—that fork-spoon thingy they make you use at school.”

  “Right. Fucker always breaks on me.”

  “Don’t swear in front of your mom.”

  “Please.” Colin rolled his eyes. “The woman’s a truck driver.”

  “Shit, don’t say that in front of your aunt,” Emma hissed.

  “Emily-Anne!” Carly snapped. “I should wash your mouth out with soap.”

  “I’m not twelve anymore, big sister.” Emma stuck out her tongue. “Try it and I’ll bite your fingers off.”

  With Carly’s anger refocused on her sister, food went back to moving around the table. There were only nine people at dinner—Kelly’s aunts, his uncle, Nora, Colin and three of Carly’s daughters—so things went fairly quickly. When everyone had finally been served, everyone held hands and bowed their heads. “We give thanks to the Lord for he is good,” Carly said, repeating the same clipped phrase she used to open every grace. “And his love endures forever.”

  Aunt Emma squeezed Kelly’s hand tight, adding an extra bit of reassurance to her grip. It didn’t help. All Kelly could do was feel the hollow space inside of him grow and expand until every beat of his heart echoed like a drum. Fuck, he didn’t want to be here.

  “We thank you for this dinner and for the fine company around us. We thank you for bringing Kelly back to his family after so many months of distraction.” Carly’s voice grew thin, “We hope you guide his hand and help him to make the correct choices for his future.”

  “For fuck’s sake,” Matt swore under his breath, the harsh words giving Kelly the strength he needed to stay at the table.

  “We hope you watch over and protect those of us who are not at this table, both the living and the dead, and we trust in your wisdom in taking our loved ones before their time.”

  Aunt Emma never let go of his hand. Not when Carly finally closed her prayer with a wholehearted amen and not when forks and knives started to clatter around them. “I miss your mother every day,” Emma said under her breath. “We all do. Carly just doesn’t handle it well.”

  “She’s a bitch,” Matt corrected.

  Emma gave her husband a dirty look, but she didn’t disagree. When she finally let go of Kelly’s hand, it was so she could pass the ham back down the table. “Now, Nora tells me you’re dating somebody new. She says he’s cute.”

  “Super cute.” Kelly picked at his food.

  “Studly,” Nora interrupted. “I believe I said studly. Those cheekbones? That voice? Fuck, I’d jump him if you hadn’t gotten there first.”

  And wasn’t that just adorable. Kelly bit back a laugh. “Sorry, sweetie, but he doesn’t play for your team.”

  “A girl can always dream.”

  Hysterical. Kelly dug into his food, taking a solid bite. Damn. Buttery potatoes melted in his mouth. Carly might not be his favorite aunt—Emma had claimed that position years ago—but she definitely knew what she was doing in the kitchen. He sliced off a bit of ham. Hickory smoked with a tang he couldn’t quite place. Freaking delicious.

  Buzz. He was chowing down on roasted asparagus with lots of garlic and pepper when his phone sounded. Phones weren’t technically allowed at family dinner, but that didn’t stop him from fishing his out and taking a look.

  It could be from work.

  Except he wasn’t on duty, and the only reason they’d reach out on his night off was if North Dorm burned to the ground.

  And if that happened he’d get a call, not a text.

  It could be one of his friends, but when he saw Ian’s name on the screen his heart beat double time. How’s your family dinner going?

  My cousin thinks you’re hot.

  He cute?

  Kelly snickere
d. It’s Nora, and you’re taken. He regretted it as soon as he’d typed out the words. They hadn’t come to any arrangement about exclusivity. Hell, they’d only really been out two times. There was no reason for the spike of jealousy to flare inside him.

  Good to know, Ian finally texted back. And I’m the only one who gets to spank your ass.

  A thrill of excitement ran down Kelly’s spine. They never had gotten to the spanking the other night. Can I come over after dinner?

  “Is that him?” Emma elbowed him in the side, breaking his concentration. “Tell him to send a picture.”

  “Who are you talking about?” Carly called down from the far end of the table.

  “Kelly’s new boyfriend.”

  “Really?” There was a long pause. “I hope this one’s an improvement on the last one.”

  Kelly frowned. “There was nothing wrong with Nick.”

  “He works at that bar—”

  “He’s getting a business degree. He’s going to manage that bar.”

  “Yes,” Carly sniffed. “Well. I certainly hope this one is more respectable.”

  In his aunt’s world, university professor was definitely a step up from bouncer, but Kelly didn’t need to start an argument about whether or not Ian was too old for him—he wasn’t. Instead, he shrugged. “I like him.”

  “Hopefully he’ll convince you to take a serious look at your future.”

  Here it was again. Kelly’s eyes squeezed shut.

  “You need to be applying to jobs, graduate school.” Carly rattled on. “You’re such a smart boy, Kelly. You could really make something of yourself if you just applied yourself.” There was a short pause. “Are you paying attention?”

  “Yes, Aunt Carly.” His eyes popped open. He reached up to put a hand on the back of his head, blinking in surprise when a sudden burst of sensation slammed through his body. The throb from the bite mark was a sharp reminder of everything he’d done the other night. His breathing came a little easier as he focused on the memory of Ian’s hands against his, steadying him, calming him. Firm lips moving across his skin. Sharp teeth digging into his flesh.

  Carly continued for a few minutes before leaning forward. “I want you to think about selling the house.”

  “Damn it.” Emma stood up this time, her chair clattering to the ground. “Carly, we weren’t going to bring that up tonight.”

  “We?” Kelly blinked in surprise. “You’re in on this too?”

  Emma’s cheeks turned red with embarrassment. She didn’t bother trying to defend herself.

  It was a conspiracy. Both of his aunts were against him.

  Kelly dropped his fork. His throat was dry. It felt like he’d been chewing on sand. The one person he’d counted on to be in his corner was preparing to stab him in the back.

  Even Uncle Matt and Colin were staring down at their plates, cheeks red. They’d known this was coming and they hadn’t warned him. Assholes.

  Carly sniffed. “I’m a single mother. You really think I’d have the money to buy your parents’ house myself? Real estate is expensive. That’s the whole point. I don’t want the place to be an albatross around your neck.”

  “It’s my home,” Kelly said.

  “And do you have a job to pay for it?”

  He could if he wanted to. The job at Halston University—executive assistant to President Aldridge—wouldn’t quite cover all the bills and his living expenses, but with the insurance payout from his father’s crash and his inheritance, he’d more than scrape by.

  Of course, telling Carly that would mean taking the damn job and Kelly still wasn’t sure whether he wanted it.

  “You haven’t lived there all year. I went by last week and all your mother’s lovely things were covered in dust.”

  “I’ve been busy—” Arguing wouldn’t help. Kelly forced himself to take a breath. He reached up to massage the back of his neck. The bite mark was a not-so-subtle reminder that he wasn’t a kid anymore. He was man enough for Ian and man enough to face up to his aunt. Pain radiated out from the bruise, giving him something to concentrate on besides his sudden sense of anger and betrayal. He turned toward the only other person at the table who looked as surprised as he felt. “Nora, you still want to use my car?”

  “Friday night,” she said. “I’m going to a concert in the city.”

  She was going to fuck up his mirrors. No doubt about it. “Clean the house and you can borrow it.”

  “Done—”

  “Don’t help him!” Carly snapped.

  Nora rolled her eyes. “I’ll go over there tomorrow and give it a tidy.”

  “You need a key?” Of course she didn’t. His mother had given out keys by the dozen even before her illness, and then in those final months—when she’d needed a constant rotation of caretakers at her bedside—Kelly had given out even more. He really should change the locks.

  On the table his phone buzzed. If you’re a good boy I’ll even make waffles in the morning.

  Kelly grabbed the device before someone else could swipe it. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Warm up your hand.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ian blinked in surprise when a late-model sedan pulled into the parking lot and Kelly got out. The car was nicer than the usual college student four-banger, too new to be a hand-me-down and too expensive for him to cover the payments with a housing assistant’s wages. Yet another piece of the puzzle.

  Booted feet pounded up the stairs. He threw open the door before Kelly could knock. “Does it ever get warm around here?”

  “May to September.” Kelly stripped off his coat as he walked through the door, revealing a deep blue Henley that complemented his eyes.

  This time he didn’t throw the jacket on the ground, hanging it over the back of one of Ian’s kitchen chairs instead. His movements were jerky and awkward. His natural grace was missing. He paced back and forth. His hands tugged at his shiny blond hair.

  Then he took a deep breath.

  His body went still as he managed to gather all his misspent energy, coiling it neatly inside him. From the outside it looked like everything had returned to normal. Kelly was in complete control.

  But Ian knew better.

  He could see the tension in his shoulders and the pain in his gaze. The lips he’d been fantasizing about kissing were pressed together in a thin line. What the hell had happened?

  He forced himself not to ask. Kelly seemed strung out. If pushed he might leave and if he left...who knew where he’d go or who he’d end up with. It didn’t matter. Once he left the apartment Ian wouldn’t be able to guarantee his safety. “Can I get you something?”

  “Whiskey. Neat.”

  “I’ve got bourbon.”

  “Good. Grab the fucking bottle.”

  Ian walked into the kitchen and got the bourbon down from the overhead cabinet. He poured two generous glasses and handed one to Kelly. The glass went to his mouth full of amber liquid. It came down empty. His tongue darted out to catch the last glistening drop. “Give me another.”

  He couldn’t push but maybe a little nudge would be okay. “Want to tell me about it?”

  “My aunt’s a Bible-thumping bitch.”

  “Is she a bigot?”

  “Fuck no.” Kelly slumped back, leaning against the kitchen table. “Hell, she’s the one who convinced my mom to join PFLAG when I came out. They all used to drive down to New York City for the pride parade.”

  “So, what happened tonight?”

  “Nothing I wasn’t expecting.” Blue eyes stared out cold and harsh. “Except this time Aunt Emma agreed with her. Like I’m some kid who can’t be trusted to make my own fucking decisions.”

  Twin emotions warred inside Ian’s chest. He wanted to know more about what was happening in Kelly’s li
fe—and what his aunts had done to upset him—but he needed to find a way to center him first before he splintered into a million tiny pieces.

  “Where’s the bourbon?” Kelly demanded, waving his glass.

  “Right here.” Ian picked up the bottle. “But you need to consider your options. You can drink yourself into a stupor—I’ll even join you—or we can go in the other room and find a more productive way for you to work off this energy.”

  “Why didn’t you fucking say so?” The glass slammed down on the table and Kelly pushed up onto his toes. He turned and walked to the bedroom without any more prodding, his hips wiggling suggestively every step of the way. He ripped his shirt off over the head as he walked through the door, the soft cotton forming a puddle on the ugly carpet. “You coming?”

  “Yeah.” Ian took a quick sip of bourbon to steady his nerves before leaving the half-empty glass on the kitchen counter. He’d come all night if Kelly was good enough.

  He stood up straighter, adjusting his jeans, and followed his lover into the bedroom.

  It was almost exactly like his fantasy from the other day. Kelly was naked and sprawled out across his dark comforter, with so much soft skin on display it had Ian’s heart beating double time. His mouth was half-open, pink lips glistening in the dim light from the living room. His knees were spread apart. One hand was down between his legs, cupping his balls, stroking his hard erection.

  The only thing wrong was the expression on his face. Hard, challenging and so damn lost Ian wanted to pull him into his arms and never let him go.

  Not that Kelly would let him.

  He’d probably knee him in the balls and hightail it out to the nearest biker bar, searching for the violent release he claimed to need.

  “You come without me and I’ll tie you to the bed for a week.”

  “Kinky.”

  “Isn’t that what you’re interested in?”

  Kelly’s hand stilled. “I can get kinky anywhere.”

  If that was the case, what were they doing together? Ian shucked off his T-shirt. Despite his attempts to take things slow, they’d gone out less than a handful of times and now they were jumping straight into bed. Except, if Kelly could get kinky anywhere, maybe it wasn’t just kink he was looking for with Ian. Maybe they had a shot at a real relationship—even if he didn’t deserve one.