by A. R. Barley
“She did the right thing, you know?” Kelly loosened his tie. “All staff are encouraged to report any potential impropriety.”
Ian would go back to thinking Marcy was a good person in the morning, when he’d stopped worrying that his entire life would be yanked out from under him based on an unfounded—and untrue—rumor.
“You could have warned me,” he said. “A phone call or something. When you started talking, I thought you’d lost your mind. I thought I was going to lose my job.”
“You didn’t break any rules.”
“And now?” Ian stood up and walked around the side of the table. He bent down to skim his fingers across Kelly’s cheek, tilting his chin upward. “Is this against the rules?” The kiss was soft but insistent. “And this?” The next kiss was harder; he would never be the submissive partner in their relationship but maybe they could finally be equal partners.
“Yes, oh...” Kelly’s fingers twisted into Ian’s shirt. “I mean...there’s no rule against faculty dating administrative staff. I checked before I took the job. Twice. Then I double-checked with Aldridge to be sure.”
“Good to know.” Ian would do anything for another chance. He leaned forward to press Kelly into the chair, his weight locking him in place. “Does that mean we can start over again?” Kiss followed kiss as he flowed downward. “A clean slate.” His tongue tasted the soft skin above Kelly’s collared shirt. He sucked hard, wanting to leave his mark. “Like none of it ever happened?”
“Oh, God.” Kelly writhed against his mouth, letting out those soft noises Ian had grown to love so much. Ian added a gentle nip and earned a gasp in response. “Oh...bluebird.”
One word. Two syllables. Ian slumped back on his feet in surprise. Had he misheard? Or had Kelly finally said his safe word...at exactly the wrong moment.
“Bluebird,” Kelly repeated. “I need you to stop.”
Chapter Thirty
Bluebird. Ian’s body stilled. He slid down until he was on his knees in front of Kelly, his shoulders slumped under his tweed blazer. His eyes were dark with hurt and sorrow. “You don’t want me. I—” He glanced up, beseeching. “Thank you for saving my job. I won’t bother you anymore.”
“No!” Kelly was louder than he’d meant to be. He took a deep breath, swearing under his breath. His fingers curled around the familiar curve of Ian’s head, stroking his shaved scalp. “Did I do it wrong again?” He swallowed. “I don’t want to start over. I love you—”
“Thank God,” Ian said gruffly. “I love you too.”
“But there are things we need to talk about first and we can’t do it here. We can’t do this here. There’s no rule against university employees dating each other, but I’m pretty sure they don’t want us fucking on the furniture.” Kelly checked the time on his watch. Damn. He needed to get moving. Not that he could walk out the door with his erection jutting out like a third leg. “And I wasn’t kidding about the filing. Plus, I’ve got another one of these meetings in an hour. One of the philosophy professors is sleeping with a student in one of his classes.”
Ian shifted back onto his heels. He was still close to the ground, but it somehow felt like they were on equal footing. “Aldridge really trusts you with this sort of thing?”
“Absolutely.”
There was a pause. “The good professor’s not going to get off with a slap on the wrist and a letter in his file.”
“Not a chance.”
“What are you going to do to him?”
“Nothing.” Kelly couldn’t keep the wolfish grin off his face. President Aldridge had been more than happy to have his input on the issue—punishing professors wasn’t exactly his favorite part of the job. Unlike Ian, the philosophy professor really had abused his power...with a freshman. Kelly had talked to the girl himself. She’d cried. He’d been inclined to get creative. “I’m just going to lay out his options.”
He stood up, smoothing his shirt and his adjusting his pants. He placed his palm against the base of his cock, reciting the alphabet backward until his erection started to go down. There was nothing he could do about his bruised lips. Anyone who saw him would know he’d been thoroughly kissed, but he could still do his best to look presentable.
Looking at Ian, it hurt to breathe, hurt to think. Kelly just wanted to sink to his knees beside Ian and get back to the kissing.
Kissing they could do.
Talking was hard.
But if they didn’t talk, then they’d end up right back where they’d started. Alone. Drifting. Two ships passing in the night. Kelly didn’t want to be a ship. He wanted to be a fucking iceberg, stopping Ian in his tracks.
He wanted a long-term relationship with love and commitment and limits that they talked about in advance. When they met, he’d been spiraling out of control, pounding against the rules of polite society that had felt so suffocating after his parents’ deaths. He’d grown up since then. Setting limits wasn’t just about following rules. It was about establishing boundaries and trusting that his partner would respect him...would still want him...
Would Ian still want him? If he knew that the whip was off-limits—forever—would he still think Kelly was enough? The doubt ate at Kelly’s insides, but he didn’t let it show on his face. Either way he needed to know.
“Come to the house for dinner tonight?” He issued the invitation with his heart in his throat. “Around seven?”
“Of course.”
“And bring an overnight bag.”
“Yeah.” Ian pushed himself up onto his feet, suddenly taking up all the space in the small conference room. “I can do that.”
And then they were kissing again. Ian’s fingers wrapped around his wrists and his lips were on his, taking him, devouring him, until he forgot about schedules...and talking things out...and breathing...
For the rest of the day Kelly could feel Ian’s kiss on his lips and his firm grip on his wrists. It followed as he filed paperwork in the president’s office, attended two more meetings on Aldridge’s behalf, and finally slipped into the shower after work so he could be squeaky clean when Ian showed up for dinner.
He palmed his half-hard dick under the hot water, enjoying the scrape of his fingers against the tender skin, but decided against taking the edge off. He wanted to be ready for anything Ian might have planned.
Dinner was lasagna and a fresh salad. He was never going to be a gourmet chef, but after a phone call to his aunt he was confident no one would end up with food poisoning. The lasagna was in the oven when the doorbell rang.
Had Ian ever come to the front door before? Kelly couldn’t remember. He wiped his hands clean on a kitchen towel and padded barefoot down the long hall to the foyer. His heart slammed against his ribs as he opened the door and grinned. “You’re early.”
“I didn’t want to wait.” Ian took a step inside and dropped his duffel on the hardwood floor.
“Dinner’s another forty minutes.”
“I’d suggest going upstairs while we wait, but you wanted to talk.”
“Yeah.” With Ian standing in front of him, it took Kelly a moment to remember why they weren’t going upstairs. He adjusted the soft black sweatpants he’d thrown on after his shower, suddenly aware of how little they hid. Fuck, what was it about Ian? Less than a minute in the same room—breathing in Ian’s leather and sex scent and watching the sunlight play across his skin—and his dick was already standing eagerly at attention.
He turned and started to lead Ian back into the kitchen, until he remembered exactly what they’d done the last time they’d been in that room together. Shit. He paused in front of the door to the big formal living room with its antique furniture. Maybe they should talk in there? But he’d never felt comfortable in that space—it had always been very much his parents’ domain. Better to go into the kitchen where he knew every l
ine in the granite and crack in the tile.
Ten more quick steps and they were standing beside the island. At least in here the rich scent of tomato sauce and melting cheese worked to hide whatever cologne Ian wore.
“Going to the Roadhouse was a mistake. I was running away from my problems, and I put people in danger.” His gaze lifted slightly to meet Ian’s steel-gray eyes. “I’m sorry for that.”
“We both made mistakes. The whip...” Ian let out a long sigh. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“You thought I’d use my safe word, but I was too caught up in the moment. In taking the punishment I thought you wanted to give me. But that’s not the point, is it?”
“Not for me.”
Kelly nodded. He’d thought as much. He took a deep breath. “If we’re going to do this again...for real...I need to establish some boundaries. I’m making whips a hard limit.”
“I think we can put a pause on all impact play for a while.” Ian nodded slowly. “You’ve been talking to someone in the life.”
“Yeah.” Chi-Chi’s friend had been more than happy to fill Kelly in on the basics. He’d talked about the importance of safe words for almost an hour before explaining the difference between hard and soft limits. “Chi-Chi recommended a few web sites, told me about a club in Albany where I could find other dominants to play with if you weren’t interested anymore.”
There was a long pause, like Ian was waiting for a judge to pass verdict.
“I don’t want another dominant,” Kelly said. “The websites...the things they said a proper submissive should do—sitting on the floor, contracts and collars, following every freaking order—that’s not what I’m interested in. But the whip—if that’s what gets you off—it’s not something I’m going to be able to do. If you need it, then maybe we’d be better off apart.”
“I’ve had that kind of submissive,” Ian said. “It’s not what I’m interested in either.” His shoulders slumped forward. “I told you about my friend David? The one with the blindfold. We were partners—at least, I thought we were. Then I was at a club one night and I saw him with another dom—a group of other doms.” His voice wavered slightly. “Things got rough, but he never used his safe word. I offered to take him out of there, and he laughed.” His jaw clenched and a single vein throbbed on his forehead. “I couldn’t watch someone I cared for be hurt like that, so I left. The whip’s just a tool—a toy. Some men like it. I like knowing that I can make my partner happy. That I can leave him sated and satisfied and panting for more. You think I was hard on you before? I’ve had a lot of practice. I can make lines on your back that you’d feel for weeks, but my kink has less to do with the scars I can make on a man’s skin and more to do with the marks I can leave on your soul.”
“Good to know.” Kelly let out the breath he’d been holding. If Ian had wanted a more traditional dominant-submissive relationship then he would have tried, but he just didn’t think he had it in him. “This morning I told you that I know exactly what I want. That’s you.”
“Whatever it takes,” Ian promised. “Whatever limits you need to set. Whatever you want. The things we did together—that was my kink. It was everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I’ve ever needed, and if you never wanted to do it again then that would be okay too. I love you.”
That was all Kelly needed to hear. Things had gone wrong before because they weren’t communicating—because he wasn’t making his desires known—but now they knew. They could change. They could learn. They could grow. They’d try new things together and set new limits.
They’d love each other for the rest of their lives, until they were gnarled old men sitting together on the front porch harassing the college hotties walking through the neighborhood.
The O’Connor Home for Old Gay Lovers. They could throw a luau every Friday night, complete with a stuffed pig and hot cabana boys.
“That’s not all.” Kelly took a deep breath. “I want you to move in with me, here. I’m keeping the house. The job at the university is a good one—Aldridge needs someone who already knows the territory. He’s from California originally. He still doesn’t understand all the university politics, but I know the entire faculty and most of the staff. I’m related to half the town. It’s not going to take me six months to get up to speed. I can step right into the job, and I’m going be good at it.”
“You’re going to be Aldridge’s enforcer?”
“I’m going to kick ass, take names and still have time to work on my novels. The job will cover most of the costs, but I’m also going to rent out some of the other bedrooms.”
He’d had a lot of time to think over the past week while he was sorting out his life. He’d started by talking to Carly and Emma, telling them to butt out of his life.
That hadn’t gone over very well.
His aunts loved him—really—but they also thought they knew what was best for him, and for almost a year he’d listened to them.
Not anymore.
Then he’d talked to Nick and Jesse. That conversation had taken a little more time and a lot more alcohol, but they’d finally understood what he was offering. They’d already started moving their things into one of the Victorian’s bedrooms.
Of course, that wasn’t the only decision he’d made. He wriggled underneath his thick gray Henley. “Well?”
“Sounds like you’re making some big changes.”
“Absolutely.” Kelly was tired of being an onlooker in his own life. He was ready to take control. “It works out pretty well. I’ve spent the last few years working as a housing assistant. This won’t be much different—except I’ll get to choose my renters and kick out anyone who starts a fire. Of course...I’d be willing to negotiate a discount for you in exchange for cooking and sexual favors.”
“The sexual favors are free,” Ian replied instantly. “Two guaranteed dinners a week, Saturday breakfast, and I pay half whatever you’re charging everyone else.”
“Four guaranteed dinners a week, two breakfasts, and you have to make something to take to family dinner with my aunts.” Kelly bit back a laugh as Ian’s eyes widened. “But we’ll only go twice a month...at most.”
There was a long pause as Ian considered the offer, turning it over in his head to examine it from every possible direction. They both knew he’d say yes, but that didn’t make the negotiations any less important...or fun.
“Done,” Ian finally said, and he sealed it with a kiss.
Chapter Thirty-One
Opening the back door, Ian let Lola in from the yard while Kelly pulled the tray of lasagna out of the oven. “Missed you, little bit.” He bent to scratch the little dog behind the ears. “If I’m moving in here, can we get a real dog? Like a Rottweiler.”
“The vet says she’s a Phalene.”
“What’s that in English?”
“It’s a Papillon with droopy ears.”
“You mean she’s not getting any bigger?”
“The vet says she’ll probably end up close to eleven pounds—large for her breed.”
“Unbelievable.” The pasta was slightly messy, with sauce spilling out around the sides of the dish, but it smelled like heaven. “Homemade?”
“I wanted to do something special.” Kelly’s ears flushed a deep pink. “It’s not every day I invite the love of my life to move in with me.”
“The love of your life, huh?” Ian nodded toward the pasta. “Will it keep?”
There was a slight pause and then a nod. “Hell yeah.”
Kelly set up the small gate between the kitchen and the hallway, barricading Lola in the kitchen, and Ian followed him down the hall.
Soft black material pulled over Kelly’s tight ass, clinging to firm round globes. Ian never thought he’d be here again, about to bury himself deep inside his lover until he couldn’t tell where his
body began and Kelly’s ended. That’s what he wanted. To be one body with one breath and one beating heart.
Ian let out a low breath as they turned in to Kelly’s bedroom. The sheets and blankets were tangled on top of the bed, like he hadn’t been sleeping well.
Never again, Ian thought as he stripped his shirt off over his head. He’d never leave Kelly alone—wanting and in pain—again, not if he could help it.
He kicked off his shoes and shoved his jeans down over his hips, suddenly aware that Kelly was still fully dressed in dark sweatpants and his worn gray Henley. The shirt was a little heavy for the weather, but the soft color brought out the brilliant blue of Kelly’s eyes.
Had he ever been naked in front of a fully dressed Kelly before? They’d done things the other way around—definitely—but this was something new. Ian’s hands slowed as he reached for his briefs, smiling when Kelly’s gaze dropped to his waistband. He slid the silky underpants down over his hips, inch by inch, slowly revealing his lean hips, trimmed pubic hairs and thick erection.
Kelly gasped as the briefs fluttered to the ground.
Oh, yeah, this could be fun.
Time to put on a show. He stalked forward until he was standing less than an inch away from Kelly—close enough to scent the lemon and sugar body wash that always left him salivating. “This is your night,” he said. “What do you want?”
“Me?” Kelly squeaked. Pale lashes fluttered against his skin as he glanced down at the thick erection poking against his belly. When he spoke again, there was no doubt in his voice. “Take me. Fuck me.”
“I’m going to make love to you.” Ian captured Kelly’s mouth in a bright kiss, demanding but never harsh. He tasted sunlight and sugar, pure unadulterated bliss, and felt a zing of electricity shooting through his body. His teeth bit down, nipping at Kelly’s tender bottom lip and drawing out an eager whimper in response.
“Just because we’re making love, don’t think I’m going to be gentle.” He paused long enough for Kelly to use his safe word if he wanted.