by A. R. Barley
He rolled his head, stretching the stiff muscles in his neck as he considered. It shouldn’t be this hard. Stealing was wrong. Stealing puppies was a sin up there with pinching babies and licking all the free donuts at an academic conference. Completely unacceptable.
But there had been extenuating circumstances...
Kelly had to follow the rules—he had to enforce the rules—and there were no puppies allowed in the dorm. Ian turned the details over and over again in his mind before letting out a long sigh. He didn’t know what he’d have done in the same position, but it hadn’t been his choice.
Kelly had acted quickly and competently to solve the problem at hand. And now he was going to find a long-term home for the puppy.
“What did you decide her name was?” Ian asked.
“The puppy? Lola.”
“It’s a good name.” Anything bigger and it might overpower the tiny dog. Ian took Kelly’s hand in his and squeezed tight. “We’re fine.”
“Good to know.” Kelly nudged his door open. His hand slipped from Ian’s. They both got out of the car and walked into the restaurant.
Inside, the place was exactly as requested, intimate and romantic. Ian gave his name to the hostess, and she hustled them over to a small two-man booth near the back.
“Specials are on the board. Your waitress will be with you in a minute.” The girl was a thin brunette, probably still in high school. She chewed on her bottom lip as she looked at Kelly. “If there’s anything else you need, please let me know.”
Ian waited until she left before grinning. “Another cousin?”
“Never met her.”
The laughter that bubbled out of Ian’s throat was warm and assured. At the Bluebird things had been new and uncertain. If Kelly had responded to the little barista’s friendliness with a line or two then Ian would have stepped back and given them space. Things had changed. Kelly’s text message from a few days earlier was still saved on his phone: You’re taken.
Those two words had filled Ian’s chest with a sense of pride and warmth. His relationship with David had been open and free-form. He wasn’t interested in doing that again. He wanted to know he was the only man in Kelly’s life...and if the flirty hostess got out of hand, he wanted to be able to handle it without wondering if he had the right.
He reached out and took Kelly’s hand in his above the table, biting back a laugh when he heard a squeal of indignation from the front of the restaurant.
Blue eyes twinkled in the shadows. “Forceful.”
“You like it.” Ian didn’t let go as he opened the menu with his other hand and peered inside. “I don’t share—not anymore.”
“Good thing we’re both out, or this could be awkward.”
Crud, he hadn’t thought about that. In Los Angeles he was used to dating men who were out and proud. Moving to upstate New York with its more staid atmosphere had been a complete culture shock. In Halston there was one gay bar, and on long weekends most of the guys decamped to Albany or New York City.
“Do you want me to drop your hand?” he asked.
“Never.” Kelly leaned forward. The sudden motion must have jostled his ass because his mouth twisted in a low grimace. His lips parted. He let out a soft noise that had Ian hard and panting for more.
He hadn’t been lying about liking the aftermath. Ian’s heart stuttered as he considered all the tools locked up safely back in his apartment. The pain they caused and the marks they made...nothing too rough for Kelly—the bullwhip was still out of the question—but the tawse left a colorful imprint.
Maybe next time he’d mark Kelly somewhere more visible—nothing excessive, just a slim line across his shoulder or a bite mark he’d have to work to cover.
It wasn’t a collar, but the thought of Kelly wearing his marks made his gut clench and his heart beat faster. Forget holding hands. He wanted to take his lips in a rough kiss that left no question in anyone’s mind as to the exact nature of their relationship.
But then the waitress was there asking for their orders. When Kelly tried to order the baked chicken, the middle-aged woman chuckled. “This isn’t prom night, O’Connor. You don’t have to worry about getting sauce on your shirt. Order the ravioli special.”
“Fine.” Kelly laughed. “The ravioli special and a glass of the house red, but if I get a stain on this sweater, you have to explain to Carly.”
“Your aunt’s a calm, reasonable person who never speaks out of turn. I’m sure she’d understand.” The waitress’s cheeks flushed. There was a moment’s silence and then they both burst out laughing.
The wine at Valentino’s was full-bodied and fruity. It was locally grown in one of the vineyards near Lake Ontario, and Kelly could almost taste last summer’s sunshine in the glass.
“Was she telling the truth?” Ian asked, easing back in his seat with a bottle of craft beer. “You came here before prom?”
“Everyone comes here before prom,” Kelly explained. “It’s a town tradition. All the guys and dolls get dressed up in their finest, and everyone comes over to take their pictures.”
“Cute tradition,” Ian said, and for the first time all night the smile on his face was relaxed and genuine. Thank God. He sipped his beer. “I bet you looked hot in your rented tuxedo. Was it powder blue? Did it have wide lapels?”
“No, I wasn’t an extra on Saturday Night Fever. It was prom.” Kelly had bought a slim-cut tuxedo jacket to go with his suit pants and coated his hair in musky gel. He’d taken someone else’s boyfriend and danced half the night away...before finally ending up at a bonfire on the banks of Lake Halston.
The next morning his father had been waiting at the front door when Kelly finally made it home. “You stayed out all night.”
“It was prom.”
“You worried your mother. She hasn’t been feeling well, and...” He’d sighed. “Tell me you used condoms.”
Since his date had left halfway through the night with another man, it hadn’t really been an issue. But Kelly hadn’t bothered to tell his father that. Instead, he’d crossed his arms. “I know what I’m doing.”
That comment had earned him a generous scolding, two weeks spent doing the dishes after dinner every night and a month of escorting his mother to university events. But the punishment had been worth it to wake up on the lakeside with sand in his pants and smoke still curling upward in the predawn air.
It was the first time he’d really felt free.
“What did you do for prom?” Kelly asked.
“I didn’t go.”
“Let me guess, you didn’t want anyone to ask why you weren’t taking a girl.”
“Nope,” Ian chuckled. “I told my parents I was gay the morning I turned sixteen—they weren’t exactly enthusiastic, but they handled it—but prom wasn’t a big thing at my school. There were a thousand people in my graduating class; probably half of them went to the big dance. I went to Boystown.”
“That a real place?”
“In Chicago? Sure. The realtors call it Lakeview, but it’s where all the clubs are. I was seventeen with a good fake ID and a great ass. I practically lived there.” The memory made Ian grin. “Prom would have been a disaster anyway. My brother—” Sorrow pierced his eyes. For a moment it looked like he wasn’t going to continue. He took a deep breath. “My brother was prom king two years earlier. The first black prom king in school history. Hard to compete with that, especially if you’re the queer mathlete.”
Kelly winced. “Yeah, you probably made the right decision.”
Their food hit the table a second later. Kelly cut into a large hand-shaped ravioli, dipping it in the creamy red sauce and taking a bite. There was a reason Valentino’s was the best restaurant in town. Mushrooms, homemade pasta and rich vodka sauce all came together in a symphony of flavor.
The
food was piping hot and delicious, but Kelly hadn’t expected anything less. They’d catered his mother’s fiftieth birthday party and his Aunt Emma’s wedding anniversary. He’d been there at least a dozen times over the years with family and friends...but never on a date.
This was a date. His stomach churned. A real date. Had he ever been on a real date before? He’d gone out for pizza with Nick—they’d definitely ordered food to the dorms—but had he ever gone on a real grown-up date with wine and cloth napkins? Not really.
He put his fork down. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m your—” Boyfriend wasn’t quite the right word. They hadn’t been going out long enough for that kind of title. Kelly forced himself to take a deep breath and calm his rattling nerves. “I don’t need a fancy meal to put out.”
“And if I said I was doing this just for me?” Ian asked.
Kelly considered for a long minute. He’d seen the inside of Ian’s kitchen. He definitely cared about his food. “Is it just for you?”
“No,” Ian said. “It’s a little out of my price range, if I was just looking for a night out. This is for us...because I want it to be more than just putting out.”
Right. Ian wanted a relationship, more than just sex—even exclusive sex. Kelly’s heart pounded. Could he make that kind of a commitment? He wasn’t sure, but part of him really wanted to find out. There was a long pause and then the sexy professor nodded, like he was aware of the conflict his words had caused, and he started talking about something else entirely.
Kelly took another bite of ravioli. It really was good. In fact, with Ian telling a story about his move from Los Angeles to Halston—a story that involved a cute delivery guy, two misplaced boxes and an unfortunately shaped cactus—everything was just about perfect.
Chapter Sixteen
The weather had finally moved from ice planet status to depressingly chilly, so Ian waited outside Ale Mary’s pink doors for Kelly to arrive. Prince Charming’s horse must have thrown a shoe because he was ten—Ian checked his watch—no, fifteen minutes late and he was getting more frustrated all the time.
“They here yet?” Nick asked, poking his head out the door.
“Not yet. Jesse’s driving over with Kelly?”
“They were going to get dressed together and walk over.”
“What happened to Kelly’s car?”
“Not sure.” Nick shrugged. “It’s only a few blocks anyway.”
Which meant they weren’t walking from campus. Halston University was less than two miles away. It was a nice enough walk in good weather, but no one would describe it as “only a few blocks.”
Ian bit back a snarl. Where the hell were they walking from? He almost asked Nick, but then he’d have to admit that his wayward lover hadn’t filled him in on his plans.
He was thirty seconds from giving in and demanding answers when bright laughter split the air. Kelly and Jesse turned the corner loaded for bear and dressed to kill. Jesse had clearly chosen to suffer for his beauty. It couldn’t be more than forty degrees out, but he was dressed in a long-sleeved white button-down and a pair of dark Wayfarer sunglasses. His dark hair was slicked back against his head. His legs were bare and shivering. His feet were stuffed into a pair of heavy work boots, wool socks peeking out over the top in a nod to the weather.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” Nick demanded.
“Don’t you l-like it?” Jesse’s teeth clicked together audibly. His cheeks were bright pink. His nose was red. “I’m Tom Cruise from Risky Business.”
“Uh-huh.” Nick wrapped his arms around his boyfriend in a big bear hug. “I’d like it better if you weren’t trying to freeze your bits off. You better hope you defrost before we go home.”
The pink doors swung behind them as they hustled into the crowd.
“I tried to convince him to wait until we got here to take his pants off,” Kelly said. “But I think he pregamed back at the dorm.”
Unlike his friend, he was dressed in a pair of stonewashed jeans that clung to his slim hips and a gray plaid flannel shirt that his accentuated broad shoulders. His sky-blue eyes glowed in the pool of light near the entryway. His cheeks were flushed. His square jaw clean-shaven. Some kind of product in his hair made it stand out like a halo around his head, tinting it a few shades darker.
Ian wanted to twist his fingers through that hair and mess its overly styled perfection. He wanted to hold on tight as he fucked Kelly into the mattress.
His smile broadened as he continued his perusal. “Care to guess my inspiration?”
“Not Tom Cruise.”
A soft chuckle raced down Ian’s spine and warmed his belly. “I was going for Rob Lowe.”
“I see it.” Kelly was definitely an all-American heartthrob. Ian glanced down at his own outfit. “Sorry to say I don’t have a specific inspiration.”
“In those pants? You don’t need one.”
“Nice to know you approve.” Ian took Kelly’s arm and escorted him into the entryway where a large man in an Ale Mary’s T-shirt was collecting covers.
“ID?” the doorman said.
“Seriously?” Kelly quirked an eyebrow in his direction.
“This isn’t high school, O’Connor. You can’t use your pretty face to get out of following the rules here.”
“But you do think my face is pretty.” Kelly flashed his driver’s license. “Nice to know.”
“Fuck off. Just because Nick said to let you back in for the night doesn’t mean I have to be nice,” the doorman snarled. “That’s you, how about your boy toy?”
“Now you’re just being mean. Ian’s nobody’s toy.”
“Does he have ID?”
Ian produced the required identification, biting his lip as the doorman checked it carefully with an ultraviolet light. “Was that really necessary?”
“Probably not, but I sure liked it.” He took the cover fee from Ian and waved them through.
Ian put a hand on Kelly’s waist, claiming him possessively as they walked into the nightclub. The place was packed, men, women and those who had yet to make up their minds all gyrating eagerly on the dance floor.
Jesse wasn’t the only one who’d decided to dress like Tom Cruise. Half the gay men in Halston seemed to have gone for the Risky Business look, and there were more than a few Top Gun aficionados thrown in for good measure.
The Clash’s “Should I Stay or Should I Go” was pounding through oversized speakers.
“Want to explain what that was about?” Ian asked.
“Carlos and I went to high school together. He was the captain of the football team.”
Great. Ian had half a mind to turn around and slam the jock up against a wall. “So, that makes it okay for him to be a dick? High school’s over.”
“Not quite.” Kelly snorted. “He was the closeted captain of the football team, and I was out and proud.”
“Oh yeah?” That changed the dynamic slightly, although Ian wasn’t exactly sure how. “Was he jealous?”
“We moved in different spheres. He probably didn’t even notice me...until I asked Trevor Martindale to Senior Prom.”
“Let me guess, Trevor was his secret crush?”
“Trevor was the guy he was blowing in the supply closet before practice.”
Ian winced. “Really?”
“Sure, Trevor was a nice guy.” Kelly waggled his eyebrows. “I think he ended up at UC Berkeley. He looked damn fine in a tux.”
“You’re not blowing someone in a supply closet?”
“Not unless you ask me nicely.”
Gossiping about Carlos’s unfortunate high school romance wasn’t how Kelly wanted to spend the night. Especially not when Ian was wearing those leather pants. Damn, he’d be
en dreaming about those pants since they’d met, fantasizing about dropping to his knees and mouthing the supple leather before pulling the zipper slowly down.
In his fantasies he opened the pants just enough to reveal the goodies underneath. When he finally took Ian’s cock deep in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the thick erection, his fingernails dug into the leather covering Ian’s taut ass.
Fuck. His cock filled at the thought. At least his outfit—eighties pants and enough layers to keep warm on the walk over—hid the sudden show of desire.
He wanted to press Ian back against the nearest flat surface, twist his fingers in Ian’s slippery red shirt and capture his mouth—
Better, Kelly wanted to be the one against the wall with his hands pinned up above his head and his jeans down around his ankles. He wanted to wake up the next morning with bruises on his wrists to match the one that was already fading on the back of his neck.
It probably wasn’t the sort of thing Nick would appreciate. Kelly had promised to be on his best behavior at Ale Mary’s, and he wasn’t about to screw up his chance now. “You want to get drinks or hit the dance floor?”
“I have to choose?” Ian’s powerful hands wrapped around him, manhandling him toward the dance floor.
Two minutes later they were pressed up against each other, hip to hip, groin to groin, thrusting in time to a song that had come out long before Kelly was born. The slight difference in their heights was just enough to provide some much needed torque, otherwise their bodies fit together like they were made for each other.
Every breath brought with it the rich scent of leather and sex. Kelly’s fingers curled against the slippery material of Ian’s bloodred shirt, the sleek texture a nod to eighties couture. Firm muscles moved underneath his hands, bunching and flexing in time to the beat.
Damn, he was built.
Kelly sucked in a breath, bringing their bodies even closer together. He wasn’t the only one hard now. Ian’s thick erection thrust against him, and he rode the hard ridge. Fuck. His asshole fluttered. He wanted that cock buried inside him, thrusting so deep he could feel it in his teeth.