Against the Rules (9 page)

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 been 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.

If he closed his eyes he could almost imagine they were in Ian’s apartment, listening to one of the town’s three classic rock stations. Of course, if they were dancing in private they wouldn’t be wearing quite as many clothes.

And Ian wouldn’t be holding back.

Oh, hell. He whimpered eagerly at the thought.

“Don’t worry, baby. I know what you want.” Strong fingers wrapped around Kelly’s wrists, separating his grip from the sleek shirt and forcing his hands back behind his back. The position made him stand up straighter and thrust his hips forward.

The dance went from zero to sixty in half a second, and Kelly was left hanging on for dear life, bucking uncontrollably between the hands on his wrists and the body in front of him.

His mouth opened as he panted eagerly, searching for air. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest. Lightning zipped across his body, burying itself low in his belly and making his cock jerk in response.

He wanted more. He wanted it all. His lips met Ian’s in a savage kiss. “Please.”

He didn’t need to say anything more.

The grip on his wrists tightened until it was hard enough to leave bruises. He’d regret it in the morning, but for now all he could do was lose himself in the sweet bite of pain.

“That’s right, baby,” Ian said. “Let me hear how much you want it.”

Kelly hadn’t realized he’d been making any noise, but now he could hear it, soft gasps and groans ripped from his throat as warm bodies buffeted them from every direction. A strange man’s hands skimmed across his shoulder blades and someone else pinched his ass.

“Hell.” He leaked into his boxers. “I’m going to come.”

“With all these people watching?” Stormy eyes deepened until they were almost black. “That’s fucking hot.”

“Just for you.” Kelly had been with men before. Lots of them. Some had known what they were doing in bed. A rare few had known how to give him the pain he needed. None of them could play his body like Ian. He was a freaking virtuoso.

“Good to hear.” Ian’s jaw tightened and something changed in his expression. “I don’t think you’re going to come,” he said, denying what was almost inevitable. “I think you’re going to save that for later. For me. Do you understand?”

This time Kelly let out a real groan. “I might not have a choice.”

“Then I’ll punish you later, but it’ll be the only time you come tonight.”

“Fuck.” His teeth sliced into his bottom lip as he forced himself back from the precipice.

Ian’s grip on his wrists relaxed and suddenly he could breathe again. When the song finally ended, they exited the dance floor and pushed their way up to the crowded bar.

“You looked hot out there,” a slightly built redhead in a pink top purred from one of the nearby barstools. “I was going to join you.”

“Sorry, you’re not our type,” Ian said.

Dark eyes glittered against golden skin. “That’s not what you said last time,
pendejo
.”

Kelly blinked in surprise as he recognized the tiny drag queen who usually dominated the club’s main stage. “Holy crap,” he murmured in amazement. “You look—”

“Fabulous? I know.”

“Different.”

Chi-Chi’s usual look involved teased hair, six-inch heels and pound after pound of glitter, but for once she looked fresh faced and...wholesome? Her pink blouse was tucked into a long brown skirt and tall leather boots skimmed her legs. Her red wig was styled in a tidy bob. Her makeup was discreet. Her features were delicate.

Kelly knew Chi-Chi was a man, but—damn—she made a beautiful woman.

Ian snapped his fingers. “Molly Ringwald from
The Breakfast Club
.”

“Give the man a cigar.” Chi-Chi clapped her hands together happily. “You’re the first guy all night to guess the right movie. Half these assholes said
Pretty in Pink
.”

“In those boots?” Ian shook his head.

“Hot and he knows about fashion? I think I’m in love.”

“He’s taken,” Kelly growled.

“All the good ones are,
guapo
.” Long lashes batted flirtatiously. “What about you? It’s been a while since I took your stallion for a ride.”

Kelly chuckled, remembering his one and only night with the little bottom. What Chi-Chi lacked in size she made up for in pure wanton energy. There was probably still lube on his dorm room ceiling.

Ian’s arm wrapped around his waist and Kelly stilled, expecting to hear a reprimand. Instead, all he got was a throaty chuckle. “You top?”

“Chi-Chi sure doesn’t.”

Until the previous summer he’d topped almost exclusively, enjoying taking his lovers through their paces. All that had changed. These days he liked to be the one to be taken care of. He liked the freedom that came from someone else taking the lead, the way he could lose himself in all that sensation.

Of course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be happy to switch things up occasionally. Kelly eyed Ian’s ass in his well-fitting leather pants. Tight, firm and eminently fuckable. Yeah, he could do that.

Kelly finally managed to get Nick’s attention, waving him down from the other end of the bar. “I’ll take a whiskey—”

“Neat,” Nick finished. “Not top shelf.”

“Not unless you want to sell me top-shelf booze for well prices?”

“Maybe sometime when you didn’t almost let my boyfriend freeze his ‘nads off.” Nick turned to Ian. “And you?”

“Same thing,” Ian said, even though he’d ordered a beer on their date.

Two glasses hit the bar and Nick poured.

The speakers crackled with a familiar energy as a new song started, Bon Jovi crooning the intro.

Fuck. He grabbed the first whiskey and slammed it back, letting the sharp fire sear his throat and heat his veins.

“
Woah
,
livin’ on a prayer.
”

“Living on a Prayer” had been his mother’s favorite song. He reached for the other glass.

Chapter Seventeen

Eighties music was still pounding through the speakers, five pantsless Cruises were discoing on the dance floor, and Kelly had completely checked out.

He’d thrown back the first whiskey like it was a shot, then reached for the second glass automatically. His skin was pulled tight, like it was a size too small for his square jaw and strong cheekbones. His blue eyes were directed straight forward.

A power chord hit and Bon Jovi wailed away.

“That’s mine.” Ian batted Kelly’s hand away, picking up his glass and taking a small sip. It wasn’t great, but it would get the job done.

Kelly blinked twice then pushed his glass in Nick’s direction. “I’ll have another.”

“How about water?”

“Nora has my car. I can drink as much as I want.”

“Tell that to your liver.” Nick poured another whiskey. “Don’t puke on my bouncers.”

“You know I’ve got an iron stomach.”

“It’s one of the things I remember fondly about you.”

Ian frowned at the sudden reminder that Chi-Chi wasn’t the only man in the bar who’d gone to bed with Kelly. Hell, from the way they talked, the little drag queen had only been a one-night stand. Nick had been a relationship. Night after night. Up until this moment he’d assumed that the giant had been on top, but what if it had been Kelly taking the lead?

His ass clenched. How long had it been since he’d bottomed? Years. He hadn’t allowed another man inside him since before Los Angeles, but for Kelly? Yeah, he’d seen what Prince Charming was packing. It would be nice to experience. Of course, just because he was giving up his ass didn’t mean he’d be giving up control.

“Another.” Kelly finished his second drink just as the chorus hit. “You know this was her favorite song?” He snorted, talking to no one in particular. “We used to dance in the fucking kitchen.”

This time when Nick poured the whiskey Kelly didn’t take a sip. He placed the still full glass down firmly on the bar. His hips thrust in time to the music, his moves rude enough to make any eighties hair band proud.

“Fuck.” The single word from Nick’s lips sounded louder than any artificially projected music. “You want me to call one of your cousins?”

“To hell with them.” Kelly ran his fingers through his hair, ruining the careful presentation. “They didn’t stand up for me against fucking Carly. I don’t want them in my freaking house.” He jerked away from Nick’s hand. “I’m going home.”

“Probably a good idea.” Nick glanced at Ian, obviously trying to convey something with his eyes. “You taking the professor with you?”

“Yeah.” Kelly reached out a hand, palm up, inviting. Whatever had caused this dramatic personality change—turning him from breathless lover into surly fighter—he still wanted to be with Ian. Their fingers threaded together and Kelly let out a ragged breath.

“
Woah
,
livin’ on a prayer.
”

Ian put his glass down on the bar beside Kelly’s and reached into his pocket for his wallet, stopping when Nick gestured him away. “I need to pay our bill.”

“Get him out of here before he starts dancing on the table and we’ll call it even.”

Kelly huffed. “I’ve never danced on a table in my life.”

Ian didn’t know what was going on. It didn’t matter. Kelly’s friends—and it was clear that Nick was still his friend even after their breakup—were worried about him. That meant Ian was worried. He gripped Kelly’s hand even tighter. He’d take him home, but this time he wasn’t going to be satisfied with a few vague words.

If he was going to help Kelly deal with his problems...if he was going to be part of his life...he needed to know the truth.

As they picked their way through the crowds at Ale Mary’s, their hands never separated. Every breath Kelly took was long and ragged. His entire body was shaking. When the song’s chorus came around again, he looked like he’d been punched in the gut. It seemed like he might pull away, but his fingers just tightened. They kept pushing forward.

Outside on the sidewalk, Ian tried to turn left into the nightclub’s parking lot and failed. Kelly’s movements were sure and fast as he tugged to the right, leading away from the parking lot and into the residential neighborhood between the nightclub and the university.

“I’ve got my car,” Ian said.

“Leave it.” Kelly paused for a long minute. “The other night you asked me to trust you—even if it was just for twenty minutes. I’m asking you for the exact same thing.”

Okay. He straightened his shoulders against the wind—wishing he’d brought his jacket into the nightclub—and stretched his legs to keep up with Kelly’s quick pace.

They walked together in silence, going two blocks away from the commercial distance and turning onto one of the nicest residential streets in town. The houses got bigger. The yards were neat and tidy. The asphalt pavement was replaced with elegant cobblestones. Even the streetlights switched over from their normal wooden poles to elegant wrought iron contraptions.

Halfway down the block Kelly stopped in front of the largest house on the street, a stone Victorian with a wraparound porch and intricate gingerbread trim. An awkward carport was tacked onto one side and a tower loomed somewhat inelegantly in the back, but none of that could detract from the overwhelming impression of a stately old lady presiding over the neighborhood. A security light flickered on as they walked through a gate and around the back of the house.

“Should we be here?” Ian asked.

“Probably not.” Kelly’s hand pulled away. He fumbled through his pockets until he found his key ring. “You trust me?”

“Right up until the owner calls the cops.”

“Not going to happen.” He unlocked the back door and led Ian inside.

Lights flicked on. They were standing in a large kitchen with wide hardwood floors, white shaker cabinets and red-flecked granite counters. The kitchen had a butcher-block island with a breakfast bar and a shelving unit full of cookbooks. Instead of a table there was a small sitting area with two overstuffed chairs, a sofa and a low coffee table.

Something squeaked and Kelly bent down, scooping up a pile of brown fluff off the ground. “Easy, Lola.” He patted the puppy on the head.

Now that Ian knew what to look for he could see the purple dog crate tucked beside the sofa and the pile of pillows and toys that had accumulated under the coffee table. A gate had been set up between the kitchen and the hallway, and food and water bowls had been arranged neatly beside the sink.

“This is the house you were telling Maya about,” he said. “With the yard and the kids next door.”

“Jack and Sadie Dalton.” Kelly put the puppy down. “I babysit occasionally, when Mitch can’t find anyone else.”

The house wasn’t just another building. It was a family home...Kelly’s family home. The house was quiet, but sooner or later someone would hear them in the kitchen and come to investigate.

Ian shifted uncomfortably in his black boots, remembering the pretty blond couple from the picture in Kelly’s room. The living, breathing LL Bean catalog models probably wouldn’t appreciate his leather pants. No matter how supportive they might be of their son. “You bring me home to introduce me to your family?”

“I brought you home to have you fuck me hard against every flat surface.”

“And your parents won’t object?”

“That’d be a neat trick.” Kelly kicked off his shoes and slid his flannel shirt down his arms. He’d cut the arms off his white T-shirt, one more homage to the eighties. He padded over to the refrigerator and popped the door open, peering at the contents with a defiant air. “They’re dead.”

Dead. Ian’s gut curdled. Of all the answers he’d been hoping for—on vacation in the Dutch Antilles; deaf, blind and already in bed; or just out for the night—that one hadn’t crossed his mind.

A dozen small things bounced through his head, warning signs he hadn’t paid attention to before...Kelly’s desperate need not to be left alone...the tension with his relatives...even the cryptic words from the other professors at the university...they all made sense now.

But, fuck, he wished they didn’t.

There was a difference between suspecting that something had gone wrong in Kelly’s life—that he was damaged—and knowing the depths of his pain.

Both of his parents were gone. But how? When? The picture in Kelly’s dorm couldn’t be that old. It must have just happened. Ian’s eyes squeezed shut. He forced himself to take a deep breath, forced himself not to reach out and wrap his arms around Kelly’s core. He needed to be loved...to be cherished...Ian wasn’t that guy. He was the guy who walked away—the one who’d abandoned the man he claimed to love in the middle of a dark leather club.

When he’d gotten David’s call the next morning, he almost hadn’t answered it. He’d already sent applications to half a dozen different universities and called in a professional to rekey the locks on the apartment they’d shared.

But his phone just kept ringing.

David had been calling from the hospital. He’d finally asked for more than he could handle. The doctors had managed to patch him up, but he needed a clean set of clothes and a ride home. He was hurt, damaged. Somewhere along the way he’d lost the joy in his eyes and the spark in his step that had always drawn Ian’s attention from across the room.

If Ian couldn’t be trusted to take care of David—a practiced submissive who knew the score—then he didn’t deserve to be the man Kelly spilled his secrets to. It didn’t matter. He was the only one around, and if he came on too strong now, then Kelly might just pull away. “What happened?”

“Breast cancer. It was supposed to be a cakewalk—completely curable—but she just kept getting worse and worse.”

“And your dad?”

“That fucking asshole got what was coming to him.” Kelly grabbed a pair of beers from the fridge and placed them on the counter, but he didn’t open them. “Want the full tour?”

“Damn straight.” Ian couldn’t quite bring himself to smile—not after Kelly’s stunning revelation—but he straightened slightly. “I’ve driven past these houses before, but I never thought I’d see inside. Not unless I won the lottery.”

Kelly let out a warm laugh. “President Aldridge lives the next block over. You’ll get an invitation to brunch at his house when you make tenure. But in the meantime...” He padded over to the door, clambering over the low dog gate as he led the way out of the kitchen and into the body of the house.

The place was good-looking from the outside, but inside it was spectacular. Ian counted three fireplaces as Kelly took him on a tour through the formal dining room, office, sitting room, living room and library. Each room had hardwood floors, elegant furniture and art on the walls. The moldings were all hand done and—he had to believe—original to the house. The place was pristine: no mess, no dust and no indication that a kid had ever lived there. They stopped in a wide foyer at the front of the house with a sweeping staircase up to the second floor. “It’s like a museum.”

“My mom renovated when I was in high school. Before that we had shag carpet and harvest-gold appliances.”

“Classy.” Ian frowned. “But you don’t live here?”

“I’d already taken the job at the college,” Kelly said, which wasn’t much of an explanation. “The dorms are closer to classes and—”

“You didn’t want to be alone,” Ian said. “If I had a place like this I wouldn’t mind living alone. Of course, if I had a place like this I’d have to rent out all the bedrooms to afford the mortgage. I’d probably have to put bunk beds in the library.”

“Not very historically accurate.”

“And the neighbors would probably run me out of town on a rail.”

“Fuck the neighbors.” Kelly laughed.

“Not exactly who I’m interested in.” Ian nodded up the stairs. “This tour ever going to make it to your bedroom?”

“It’s our next stop.”