Against the Rules (5 page)

Chapter Eight

The Bluebird Café was an airy coffee shop two blocks off campus. It had big group tables, reclaimed architectural details from buildings that had been demolished all over the county, and alternative music piped through discreet speakers. The Decemberists were singing about silk-clad Spanish ladies when Kelly walked in and claimed a big table in the back of the room.

Technically speaking the Bluebird didn’t offer table service, but Kelly’s cousin Nora was sliding a cup of coffee onto the table in front of him before he’d managed to unpack his laptop. “You expecting someone?” she asked. “Usually you sit up at the counter.”

“Maybe I’m just avoiding you.” Kelly stuck out his tongue.

Nora dug into the pocket of her apron and pulled out her cell phone. “You coming to dinner on Sunday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Kelly lied.

She rolled her eyes. “You know they worry about you. Tell me you’re coming—and mean it—or I’ll text Aunt Carly you’re here.”

“Blackmailer.”

“Damn straight.” Nora winked, her heart-shaped face, red freckles and impish smile so like Kelly’s mother that he almost forgot how to breathe.

“Fine.” His aunts and cousins had been asking him to attend their weekly dinner for months now. Maybe if he showed up they’d get off his ass for a while. “You going to let me work, or do I need to complain to the owner about the service?”

His cousin’s laughter was almost worth the sting of her towel against his cheek. She turned and sashayed over to the counter.

Kelly opened his laptop and set his tools out on the table, arranging his mug precisely in line with the top of his computer and placing his notepad parallel to the edge of the table. When everything was just right, he finally opened his manuscript. His final project was a series of interconnected short stories and vignettes. His professor wanted him to call it
Evening Dews and Damps
but Kelly thought that was a bit pedantic. Okay, it was really pedantic.

Twenty minutes later Ian came in and ordered a drink at the counter. Damn, he looked fine with his cinnamon skin gleaming underneath the café’s rich warm lights. He’d changed sometime in the past hour and his scarlet T-shirt clung to muscular biceps. Ian wasn’t a body builder—not like Nick—but he was still fit. He ordered from Nora at the counter, paid and carried his coffee over to the table, sliding into the seat across from him.

The heavy wooden table put a good three feet between them, but Kelly could still smell Ian’s shower gel mingling with the scent of fresh coffee.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Ian said.

“That’s because you didn’t have my number.”

“My mistake.” Ian spread his work out carefully on the table in front of him. There was a lot of it. He eyed the piles of freshman essays with dismay. “I’m sorry if this wasn’t the second date you were thinking of.”

Kelly broke off typing and took a sip of his coffee. “Who says last night was a date?”

“It wasn’t?” Ian looked confused. The big bad top sent off balance by a few little words.

Kelly bit back a laugh as he considered. They’d shared food, a movie and a cuddle on the couch. If it wasn’t a date then it was still the closest to a long-term relationship he’d had in almost a year. Still... “I didn’t get a good-night kiss.”

“Brat.” Ian’s head snapped up and there was a playful edge to his voice, like he had the sudden urge to order Kelly to his knees. That probably wouldn’t go over very well in a crowded coffee shop on a Friday afternoon. Too damn bad. “You’ll get your kiss when I’m done with this. If you’re good.”

“I make no guarantees.” Kelly smirked, but he went back to working on the manuscript in front of him, his fingers dancing over the keyboard. The words were flowing for the first time in what felt like forever, but he didn’t feel like working on
Dews and Damps
.

He clicked over to the novel he’d been writing off and on since freshman year—the adventures of Kane Beekman, intergalactic news reporter and unrepentant alien sex fiend. It wasn’t his best work but at over five hundred thousand words it was definitely his longest. Someday soon he was going to break the story apart and pitch it to an agent as a series, but for right now he just needed to get Kane off the prison planet of Moldamp and back in action.

He just couldn’t decide whether Kane would be better off shooting his way out the front door or getting rescued by his on-again, off-again, boyfriend, Vlad the mercenary. Vlad was seven feet tall with deep indigo skin, a prehensile tail and a penchant for leather pants. More important, Vlad had a spaceship and a don’t-fuck-with-me personality that drove Kane wild.

“Thinking about something good?” Ian asked.

“Just writing. Why?”

“You were smiling.” There was a short pause. “You should do it more often.”

“Make me,” Kelly said, but this time he laughed. After finishing his coffee, he put the cup carefully back in position. It felt good to be flirting with a man outside a nightclub.

Hell, it felt good to be hanging out with anyone who didn’t know about his problems. Except...

“What did the hyenas tell you about me?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” Kelly had spent enough time with the university faculty to know they were worse than middle-schoolers when it came to gossip. He could put up with Ian knowing about his parents, really, as long as he didn’t start treating him like some poor, pitiful orphan. He couldn’t handle Ian trying to sweep it under the rug.

“Watch your mouth. I’m not a liar—and I won’t let you be one either,” Ian said. There was a long pause. “I wouldn’t let them tell me. If we’re going to be friends—if we’re going to be more than friends—then I need to respect your privacy. Whatever you did—”

Kelly snorted. “I didn’t do anything.” Except lose both his parents in the span of two months. How had Oscar Wilde put it? “
To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune;
to lose both looks like carelessness.
” Except, he hadn’t been the one who’d been careless, and now they were both dead. He forced himself to take a deep breath. “Do you want me to tell you?”

“Not until you’re ready.”

“I’m not.”

“Then you don’t have to tell me anything.” Ian went back to grading his papers, his red pen bleeding ink over the freshman essays.

A few minutes later Nora showed up with a fresh cup of coffee, sliding it into place beside Kelly’s computer. She took the empty cup away without saying a word, but her expression made it clear there would be questions later. Damn. Kelly should have picked a different place to work, one without his cousin’s prying eyes.

He took a long drag on his coffee, allowing it to chase his troubles away. The Bluebird did have some perks. His long legs stretched out under the table and his booted foot skimmed against Ian’s. The wide table was big enough for both of them to spread out their work while still providing a feeling of intimacy. Definite perks.

Kelly went back to work, his fingers flying across the keyboard as Kane made a deal with one of the other inmates. His head bobbed up and down in time to the sound of the keys click-clacking away. The music had changed overhead and now Gold Motel was playing, their music upbeat and kicky in the background. It was his favorite album. Nora must be trying to make up for threatening to call Aunt Carly on him.

“You’ve got that much energy, you can go buy me a fresh cup of coffee,” Ian said.

“Here.” Kelly pushed his cup across the table.

“And break your girlfriend’s heart? No, thanks.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re gay. You’re not blind.” Ian made a dismissive wave. “You must know the cute little barista likes you, a lot. This place doesn’t have table service.”

Fuck. Kelly hadn’t thought about how that might look. He definitely should have chosen a different place to meet. Of course, his relatives worked in half the bars and restaurants in town. He considered lying—either outright or by omission—but telling Ian about Nora wasn’t the same thing as telling him about his parents.

“She’s my cousin,” he finally said. “Of course she likes me. She’s probably hoping I’ll slip on the sidewalk, crack my head open and let her borrow my car.”

Ian nodded slowly before picking up the offered cup of coffee. He took a long sip. “She’s not a good driver?”

“Not if you like your side-view mirrors intact.”

“So, is it just Nora or do you have other family in the area?”

“Ravening hordes.”

“Sounds nice. I’ve got a big family, but they’re all back in Chicago. A brother and a sister.”

“You the youngest?”

“Middle child, but I’m the only one who left Illinois. Sarah’s married with kids. Andrew’s—” His voice skipped. “Andrew’s close by. I’m the one my parents worry about. They think I’m lonely. Ever since I turned twenty-five they’ve all been on me to get a boyfriend.”

“And how old are you now?” Kelly asked.

“Older.” Ian laughed. “I’m twenty-nine. How about you?”

“Twenty-two.” The age difference wouldn’t have mattered with a casual fuck or a study buddy. It shouldn’t matter with Ian. “You okay dating someone who doesn’t remember the nineties?”

“Trust me, it’s no great loss.” Ian put the paper he was grading down. “If you’re asking if I mind the age difference...I have a rule against dating college students, but I also have a rule against acting like a jackass when what I want is sitting right in front of me.”

“I’m graduating in a month and a half.”

“And that’s something else to consider.” Ian sighed. “I don’t even know if you’re staying in the area. You could just be having a bit of fun and getting ready to leave me behind.”

Leave Halston? Kelly blinked in surprise. He’d never considered the option before. He could turn down the damn job as Aldridge’s assistant, sell his parents’ house and hit the road like Kerouac, leaving Halston and his prying relations in the dust. Maybe he’d go to California and sleep on the beach for a few years.

If he could sleep.

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 before 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.