Against the Rules (15 page)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Levering himself up onto his feet, Kelly forced air down into his lungs. The weight of what he’d just done pressed down on him like a solid ton of steel blocks. He wanted nothing more than to call Ian back and curl into the warmth of his chest, but he couldn’t. Not tonight. Not ever. He’d trusted Ian—twenty minutes at a time—and Ian had betrayed that trust. There was nothing safe about what they’d just done, nothing erotic, just pain and anger and desperation.

His hands fumbled as he gathered up discarded clothes. He considered pulling them on—giving himself some kind of armor against the coming storm—but he had enough sense to know that putting rough cotton on over fresh lashes wasn’t the best idea. It was about the only sense he had left.

The whip was still lying there on the ground where Ian had dropped it a few minutes—had it only been minutes?—earlier. No pretty toy or agricultural tool. It was a well-made thing with a heavy handle wrapped in dark leather and a thin braided thong. The leather had been carefully tended. It was buttery to the touch. He toed it across the wide kitchen space, tucking it under the bookcase full of cookbooks, trying not to remember how he’d laughed the first time Ian had mentioned his whip.

He’d thought it was a joke.

He should have taken it as a sign.

They didn’t belong together—no matter how safe and secure Ian had made him feel over the past weeks. They came from different places and they wanted different things. If the whip was any indication as to just how deep Ian’s kinks went, there was no way Kelly would be able to satisfy his desires. He’d thought he was kinky—with his rough sex and occasional forays into bondage—but what he’d just experienced went beyond his most fucked-up imaginings.

With the whip disposed of, he hauled his sorry ass across the length of the old Victorian and up the sweeping staircase. He went straight into his bathroom with its blue and white motif. The octagon tiles on the floor were original to the house, but the rest had been updated. He stepped into the shower, suddenly grateful that the old claw-foot tub with its stand-up shower had been removed during the house’s renovation. The wide shower stall with its frameless glass door might not be an accurate restoration of the house’s original character, but at least he could lean against the subway-tile coated walls for support.

Pipes rattled as he turned the shower on and stepped under the stream. Hot water slammed into the damage on his back. “Damn—” The oath choked his throat and exploded across the room. He sucked down one deep breath after another, but it wasn’t enough. His entire body convulsed against the pain, and tears began to pour down his cheeks. He broke out into angry sobs, unsure what hurt more: the fact that Ian had broken his trust or the certain knowledge that he’d only felt four strokes land against his back.

He hadn’t even been able to take the full punishment.

Kelly stood under the shower until the water ran cold. His back stung and every time he moved he could feel his fresh gaping wounds. When he was finished, he wrapped a towel lightly around himself—winced—and walked the few short steps into his childhood bedroom. The action figures still populated the top of the dresser, but the sheets were a plain blue color. He’d been sleeping there every night he wasn’t on duty at Halston, and both sides of the bed were rumpled from where Ian had woken up beside him that morning.

Lola hopped up on the bed, circled twice and looked expectantly at the door. Like she was waiting for someone else to come in.

Ian.

When was the last time he’d slept in the bed without Ian? Before they’d gone to eighties night at Ale Mary’s. He sat down on the edge of the bed, letting the towel slip down around his naked ass. It hadn’t started out as an everyday thing, but somehow his small bedroom had turned into their place. A place where Ian could hold him tight and where Kelly could sleep all night long without the nightmares that had plagued him for so long.

Every breath brought with it the familiar scent of Ian’s body wash and the reminder that he was finally—irrevocably—alone. He turned his head, blinking away tears, and a flash of color caught his eye. The frayed ends of ties still clung to the bedposts where Ian had tied him down on their first night in this bed. Kelly’s breath caught at the memory. At the time Ian’s attention had been everything he’d ever wanted, centering him and bringing him back to earth after so many months spent spiraling out of control.

He’d give anything to be lost in that haze again. At least then his chest wouldn’t ache thinking about might have been. Some men liked the whip, he was sure. They got off on the sensation. He just wasn’t one of them. It was better that he found out now before he got even more invested.

Before he fell in love.

He turned off the light and tried to make himself comfortable. When he finally got to sleep it was on his stomach, stretched out on the clean sheets in his childhood bed, with Lola tucked against his side. His cheeks were streaked with tears and his head was pounding.

It was too late. He’d already fallen for Ian—hard—and this time he might never recover.

Ian sent the first text as he walked out the door:
I’m sorry.
The next one went out a little over an hour later, but it was no less heartfelt:
Don’t contact me.

Every hour without Kelly hurt. It wasn’t like the ache in his gut when he left Los Angeles. It was like someone had gone over his body inch by inch with a ball-peen hammer, breaking every bone and laughing.

It didn’t get any easier. Not the next day when he taught his sophomore class and saw Jesse in the front row and not the day after that when he caught a glimpse of thistledown hair across the cafeteria. He watched carefully, holding his breath, but when the figure turned around it was a whey-faced coed who’d taken one of his classes the year before.

It was for the best.

Ian had gone too far, he’d pushed too hard, he’d lost control...and Kelly hadn’t told him to stop.

For the second time he’d allowed a lover to be hurt, but this time he hadn’t just stood to the side. He’d been the one with his hand on the whip, delivering a punishment he knew Kelly couldn’t bear. It was every dark nightmare he’d ever had—the worst week and a half of his entire life.

And then a letter arrived on official Halston University letterhead. Someone had reported him for having an inappropriate relationship with a student. There was going to be an investigation.

The letter was written in formal language, harsh and stilted, but the intent was clear. Ian was going to get kicked out on his ass.

After the end of the semester, of course.

It was three days until finals started and the administration didn’t want to upset any of the students. The hearing was scheduled for the day after graduation. President Aldridge would attend and Ian could bring a witness to testify on his behalf, if he’d like.

His hand squeezed shut, crushing the letter into a paper ball. If he did nothing, his career was over before it had really begun. He’d be lucky if he could find a job teaching freshman at the nearest community college for two thousand dollars a section. His salary would barely cover the rent on his crappy one-bedroom apartment—it definitely wouldn’t cover his student loans—and the next time his brother came calling, he’d be screwed.

The charges were bullshit, of course.

He’d checked the faculty handbook, twice. There were rules against dating a student in one of his classes—even rules against dating a student in his department—but nothing against him dating Kelly.

He smoothed the letter out on his desk, double-checking to make sure he’d read it correctly.

The words were still there in black and white.

The fastest way to refute the charges would be to tell the administration exactly who he was dating. He’d need a witness.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Eventually Kelly dragged himself to school. He couldn’t stay in the house. Not when every corner brought a fresh burst of memory—Ian’s laughter, his smile, the life they might have built together. He went to work. He covered the cut on his shoulder with gauze and dressed in a lightweight T-shirt. He tried to forget about Ian and the look of horror on his face when he’d finally realized what he’d done.

It didn’t work.

Kelly couldn’t sleep, he barely remembered to eat, and—really—he didn’t care.

“You might enjoy smelling like an outhouse, but the rest of us are over it.” Nick hauled him out of his dorm room and down the hall. The man was a fucking ogre. It was one of the things Kelly had liked about him back when they were dating. Now, he barely managed to get his cell phone out of his back pocket before Nick shoved him fully clothed into one of the dorm showers. “I know your boyfriend broke up with you—for being a dumb ass—but maybe it’s for the best.”

“I broke up with him.”

“Oh.” Nick took Kelly’s phone, then reached past him to turn on the hot water. “Sorry I called you a dumb ass.” He took a step back and slammed the curtain shut. “You better be squeaky clean when I get back. Jesse’s got his Spanish final tomorrow, and he needs to be studying...not worrying about you.”

That explained some things. Nick was a friend, but they weren’t exactly best buddies. Performing an intervention was above and beyond the call of duty, unless it was to ensure his boyfriend’s peace of mind. The big lug freaking doted on Jesse.

Kelly bit back a curse as he stripped off his shirt. The cut had finally closed a few days earlier, but it still hurt like hell. He took off the rest of his clothes, luxuriating under the hot water. Someone had left a bottle of shampoo and conditioner in the stall. It wasn’t his preferred brand—the lemon-scented shampoo that always left Ian panting for more—but that didn’t stop him from stealing a few pumps.

It felt good to be clean.

He was rinsing off the last of the suds when Nick tossed a towel and some clean clothes over the curtain. “Get dressed and come down to our room. I ordered Thai food—your favorite. We’re going to watch a movie while Chi-Chi helps Jesse with his Spanish.”

“Chi-Chi and Jesse?” Kelly winced as he pictured the two younger men together. “You’re sure that’s a good idea?”

“Chi-Chi speaks the language.”

“Yeah, but the two of them together? What if they make a plan for world domination?”

Nick chuckled. “As long as it’s in Spanish, I don’t give a flying fuck.”

“Poetic. You kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?” Kelly turned off the water and gave himself a quick towel dry. He dressed quickly. The clothes he’d been handed were clean and easy to climb into, a white T-shirt and heather-gray sweatpants.

It was the same thing he’d been wearing when Ian came to the dorm to check up on him right after they met. The memory made his muscles tighten. His breath was coming faster. He tugged the pants on over his hips.

He missed Ian.

The sex had been fantastic—the best he ever had—but their relationship had never been just sex. It had been soft kisses and stolen moments walking the dog together after dinner. It had been sitting next to each other at his Aunt Carly’s house—holding hands under the table—and splashing into Lake Halston.

Kelly pulled on his T-shirt, his teeth slicing into his lip. It didn’t matter how many good times they’d had together or if he was freaking in love. Ian had crossed a line with the whip. Kelly couldn’t trust him anymore. It was over.

Finished.

Forever.

When he got to Nick’s room, the door was open and the happy couple was inside splitting up an order of Thai food. Chi-Chi was already there, swanning around on the queen-size bed like a pig in mud.

“This is spectacular.” The drag queen had dressed down for the night in a pair of denim cutoffs and a pastel pink tank top with
Drama Baby
written on the front in silver sequins. “Like floating on air.”

“I just hope it fits in our apartment,” Jesse said. “We still haven’t found a place for the summer.”

Nick frowned. “We can always—”

“We are not living above Ale Mary’s,” Jesse interrupted, preempting what was clearly a familiar argument. “I don’t care how cheap the rent is. I like to sleep occasionally.”

Kelly bit back a laugh. Nick might have a good eight inches on Jesse, but the kid could clearly hold his own. “You’re looking for a place for the summer?”

“For as long as we can get it,” Jesse said. “Nick’s promotion starts after graduation, and I’ve still got three years until I get my masters.”

“Let me know if you find something,
guapo
,” Chi-Chi purred from where he was still making love to the crisp clean sheets. “The landlord’s raised the rent on me twice.” Perfectly groomed eyebrows waggled conspiratorially. “Bigoted fuck would have tossed me out on my frou-frou ass a year ago if he wasn’t afraid of my brother.”

Kelly snorted. He snagged a paper plate from the pile on Nick’s desk and helped himself to some pad thai. It was mild, his usual order, but he had a sudden craving for spicy.

His fist slammed into the desk.

He needed to forget about Ian.

The motion made his shirt pull up high on his back, revealing the scars underneath, and there was a sharp gasp.

“Someone’s been a bad, bad boy.” Chi-Chi hopped off the bed and raced over to run his hand across Kelly’s back. His touch was light, delicate, but it still stung. He peeked under the white cotton. “Ooh, kinky. You’re into this sort of thing?”

“Not exactly.” Kelly yanked his shirt back into place and turned around. He couldn’t meet Nick’s eyes...or Jesse’s. His gaze dropped to the dorm room floor. “I like things rough, but the whip...that was our first time trying it.”

“It’s a different sort of pain,” Chi-Chi said, completely nonchalant.

“You like rough sex?” Kelly couldn’t keep the disbelief out of his voice.

“I know a couple of guys in the life.” Chi-Chi bounced up and down on his tiptoes. “One of them refuses to be hit with anything heavier than a handkerchief. He says it just doesn’t do it for him, but he’s nuts about rope.”

“I like cuffs.” Supple leather locked around his wrists, holding him safe and secure while Ian’s fingers played across his body. He shook his head, desperate to change the subject. “If things are that bad with your landlord, you could always stay with me.”

“Right,” Chi-Chi snorted. “You’ve got a place lined up after graduation?”

“My house,” Kelly said. “It’s walking distance to Ale Mary’s.”

“
Chingada
,” he swore. “You’re not messing around? You’ve actually got a house? What the fuck are you doing here?” Chi-Chi gestured wildly with his fork. “If I had a house—something that was mine for reals—you’d have to use dynamite to get me out of there.”

“It’s complicated.” Kelly didn’t want to get into all the details. “It used to belong to my parents. My aunt wants me to sell it.”

“You told her to fuck off, right?”

“No.” Kelly flushed. The word felt awkward in his mouth. He hadn’t told Carly no. Not when it counted.

“Why the fuck not?”

“She thinks—she thinks it’ll be good for me.”

“And what do you think? It’s your house. That means it’s your decision,
hombre
. You just say the word and she stops.”

Kelly’s head was swimming. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. Chi-Chi’s words kept running through his head. And then he could hear Ian’s voice: “
You remember your safe word...You say
bluebird—
you don’t like what I’m doing—and I’ll stop.
”

Stopping the whip had always been an option. One simple word and it all would have been over. Even if he’d forgotten his safe word—
bluebird
—he could have just said no. Ian would have listened. He would have stopped.

So why hadn’t he?

Kelly slid to the floor as the realization hit him. For the past year he’d been coasting, doing what everyone else wanted. He’d let his aunts, his friends, even his teachers dictate his life. It was easier that way. It meant he didn’t have to think, didn’t have to want.

These days the only choice he made was who to fuck, and even then he’d put up with almost anything a guy threw his way.

What the hell did he want?

Ian. He wanted Ian even if they never had kinky sex again. Sign him up for a lifetime of missionary position with the lights off if it would keep that look of horror off Ian’s face.

What else? He forced himself to take a deep breath, picking up his plate and digging into the hot pad thai while he thought. If he was going to get Ian back—if they were going to have a real relationship—then he needed to take control of his life.

House. Job. Boyfriend. He made a mental list of all the things he needed to tackle. The big old Victorian on Center Street might be an anchor around his neck, but Chi-Chi was right. It was his and he got to decide what happened next. He wasn’t going to sell. Aunt Carly would just have to live with that.

The job part was harder. The position at the university was still open, waiting, but it wasn’t what Ian wanted to do for the rest of his life. He wanted to be an author, to write paradigm-shifting science fiction, but that would take time. He’d need to write up a proposal and find an agent...then a publisher.

A phone buzzed. Once. Twice. Kelly blinked as Nick tossed him his cell. His hands fumbled as he caught the small device and looked down at the screen.

He made a decision.