By His Rules Page 24

  hand. “You’re not. Come on, let’s go have dessert. Enjoy

  the rest of our night. We’ll talk later.”

  “Fuck you,” Aiden said quietly.

  “You’re not going to goad me into spanking you

  here, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Why not? Hera offered the spare room.” Aiden’s

  eyes were dark with fury, his face bright red.

  “Last warning. I won’t spank you here, but I’ll sure

  as hell load you into the car, take you home, and make

  sure you don’t sit down until next month.”

  “That solves everything, doesn’t it?” Aiden wiped

  his eyes. “Is this what our life’s gonna be like if we do

  stay together? Our friends offering you their spare rooms

  so you can punish me when I’m bad? Laughing behind

  my back? I’m not a brat. I have my own ideas and

  feelings and things I want. They might not always be

  right, but they’re mine.”

  Keaton was a little shocked. He truly hadn’t known

  Aiden felt this way. He thought their relationship had

  been going well, the discipline providing Aiden with

  much-needed guidance. “I have never, nor will I ever

  expect you to put aside your feelings or desires to please

  me. We make choices together about behaviors you want

  to change—things that will benefit you, your health, or

  our relationship. I enforce the rules we decide on. That’s

  it.”

  Aiden’s body was tense, trembling with emotion. “I

  don’t know. The discipline thing worked at first—it

  really did. I was out of control, and I needed help. But

  now I feel like I have my life back on track, and I don’t

  know if I want to do it anymore. I like being submissive,

  but I’m an adult. I don’t want to get spanked when I do

  something you think is wrong.”

  Keaton nodded. “Then we need to decide whether

  the discipline relationship is something we want to

  continue.”

  “You think it’s that simple?” Aiden demanded.

  “I know it’s that simple.”

  “It’s not! This is what you fucking want—it’s what

  you need!”

  “I want you. I need you. I don’t care if we have a

  discipline relationship or not.”

  “Don’t fucking lie, Keaton.”

  “I wouldn’t.”

  Aiden’s eyes narrowed. “How many partners have

  you had?”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “A lot?”

  “Play partners? Or lovers?”

  “Both,” Aiden said.

  “Quite a few.”

  Aiden nodded, stroking the shower curtain as

  though it might offer him some comfort. “Because you

  were looking for someone you could have this with,

  right? That’s what you’ve been looking for your whole

  life. And now you have it—or you thought you had it.

  Why would you keep me if I can’t give you what you

  want?”

  “Because you can. You already do.”

  “And what if I go away to school? Or move

  somewhere else?”

  “We’ll worry about that when the time comes.”

  “Jesus. Does anything ever freak you out? Do you

  ever worry about anything?”

  “I worry that the women will eat all the dessert if

  we don’t get back in there.”

  “I’m serious!”

  “I’m sorry. I just think this is a conversation we

  should have later, at home.” Keaton had the unsettling

  sense that he was handling this situation all wrong, but

  he didn’t know what else to do. His suspicions were

  confirmed when Aiden didn’t come to him but remained

  in his corner.

  “Can you just go?” Aiden asked. “Can I be alone

  here for a little while? Please?”

  “Are you sure?” Keaton hated the idea of leaving

  him. Hated that he’d failed to make things better.

  “Yes. Just a few minutes. Please.”

  “All right. I’m here if you need me.”

  “I know.” He offered Keaton a slight nod that was

  at least somewhat comforting.

  The boy did trust Keaton, did know he could come

  to him. He was choosing not to, for reasons Keaton didn’t

  quite understand.

  Keaton returned to the kitchen.

  “You get things sorted out?” Hera asked.

  “He just needs a few minutes alone.” Keaton was

  surprised to hear anger in his own voice. “Can I help

  with anything?”

  “Kim’s getting ready to serve dessert.”

  “Vegan pralines,” Kim said, putting the tray and a

  small bowl on the table, “with chocolate dipping sauce.”

  “Wow,” Keaton said. “These look amazing.” They

  did look amazing, but Keaton was suddenly disgusted

  by his own words. This was his job, wasn’t it? To

  compliment, encourage, reassure? To always know what

  to say?

  “Every dessert she makes is amazing,” Hera said.

  “You’d never know her stuff’s vegan.”

  “Vegan’s such a dirty word,” Kim said.

  “Mmm, I love dirty words,” Sloane said, snagging a

  praline. “I love you.”

  “Back at you,” Kim said.

  The exchange sent a pang of sadness through

  Keaton that mixed with his anger. He wished Aiden were

  beside him, having dessert. He would be, if he’d just

  behave . If he’d pull himself out of this pit of negativity and act

  like the adult he is.

  Kim wiped her hands on her pants. “I’m going to

  go talk to him,” she said matter-of-factly. It took Keaton a

  minute to realize she meant Aiden.

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea right now.”

  “It’s all right,” she said simply, leaving the room.

  “If it makes you feel any better, Kim was totally the

  Brat Whisperer when he lived here,” Hera said. “For

  some reason, he never gets ticked at her. And he always

  eats when she tells him to.”

  “I guess I could learn a thing or two from her,”

  Keaton muttered.

  “Hey,” Hera said, looking at him with sympathy,

  “relax. Have a praline.”

  “I’m fine,” Keaton said brusquely.

  “Maybe.” Hera grinned. “Or maybe you’re

  human.”

  * * * *

  Aiden rinsed his face and was startled by the soft

  knock on the door. “What?” he snapped.

  “Fully clothed?” Kim’s voice.

  Aiden opened the door. Before he could speak,

  Kim took his wrist and led him to the living room. She

  sat on the couch and patted the seat next to her. Aiden

  sat. For a few minutes, neither said anything.

  “Hera doesn’t have the patience to make good

  curry,” Kim said. “You have to let it simmer for hours.

  And she adds way too much salt.”

  Aiden wasn’t sure what to say.

  “She never listens to me. Sometimes I just want to

  grab what’s left of her hair and pull.”

  Aiden looked at her. “How do you do it? The three

  of you? How do you make a relationship work?”

  “Most of the time, we don’t. You lived here; you
/>
  saw. Constant bickering. Over what to have for dinner,

  what to watch on TV, who’s excluding who… ”

  “But let me guess, you wouldn’t trade it for

  anything in the world?” Aiden couldn’t keep the

  bitterness from his voice.

  “There’s plenty I’d trade it for. There are times I’m

  sure I’ll walk right out the door and never come back. I

  might, someday. Who knows?”

  Aiden was shocked. “But you’re engaged.”

  “That means a lot to me. I take it seriously. I love

  my girlfriends. But that doesn’t mean we’ll be together

  forever.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you? Not knowing?”

  “Sometimes. But no one on earth who ever loves

  anyone can be sure it will last. They might think they

  know, but they don’t.”

  “Is this supposed to make me feel better?”

  “Sort of.”

  Aiden stared out at the hall. “I can’t stay here right

  now. I need to go. Maybe one of you can run Keaton

  home?”

  Kim nodded.

  “Don’t let him come after me. Please? Make him

  stay and have dessert.”

  “I’ll hold him down if I have to. Just promise me,

  for his sake, that you’ll be safe.”

  “Yeah. I just need to be alone awhile. Tell him I’ll

  see him at home.”

  Aiden left, trying not to think too much about what

  he was doing. He needed to fly on autopilot for a while.

  He needed to get away from himself and from Keaton.

  He drove to Obey. He’d texted Scott that he’d be there

  and Scott had agreed to meet him out front, but Aiden

  saw no sign of him. He reached into his pocket for his

  phone, but it wasn’t there. He patted his jacket. Shit. He

  must have dropped it, either in his car or at Hera’s. Oh

  well. No turning back now. He went inside.

  Scott sat at the bar, alone. Unusual—Scott almost

  always had a small crowd of disciples. He wore dark

  jeans and a T-shirt, no harness or boots. He drained

  whatever he was drinking and set the glass on the

  counter.

  “Hey,” Scott said as Aiden slid onto the stool

  beside him. He didn’t seem drunk, but there was a

  strange edge to his voice. Aiden recognized the look he’d

  occasionally seen in Scott’s eyes, the look he used to

  hope for—a kind of sad longing, as though Aiden was

  the answer to a question Scott had been asking his whole

  life. He didn’t glance at Aiden, just stared pensively at

  his glass. “Water,” he said, answering a question Aiden

  hadn’t asked. “I’m not drinking tonight.” He paused.

  “You want to go downstairs?”

  “Yeah.” Aiden paused. “No sex, Scott. I mean it.”

  Scott nodded. “Yeah, I know. Your boyfriend. No

  sex. But I’m gonna make you hurt.”

  “That’s what I want.”

  Scott’s old confidence seemed to return at those

  words. He straightened, and his eyes hardened. “It’s

  what you need, Aiden.”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s what you can’t get over your boyfriend’s

  knee.”

  “Let’s just go.”

  Scott took hold of the back of Aiden’s neck and

  pushed him through the club toward the basement.

  The dungeon was crowded. There were men in

  every corner, kissing, groping, panting. Leather thudded

  against flesh. Subs whimpered and cried out in pain or

  ecstasy, while tops scolded or encouraged or barked

  orders. Aiden caught glimpses of strange costumes, bare

  skin, hungry stares. He wasn’t sure he wanted to play

  here, in this chaos. He stopped, and instead of forcing

  him on, Scott stopped too.

  “It’s loud,” Aiden said. “Too crowded.”

  “You want to go back to my place?” Scott asked.

  Aiden nodded. Why not? This was all happening to

  someone else. Aiden didn’t want to think, didn’t want to

  feel anything but pain, carrying him out of his mind,

  taking him to the edge and over. He needed to hurt; he

  deserved to hurt. How could he endanger what he had

  with Keaton? How could he be so cold, so stubborn, so

  deceitful?

  Scott led him through a back door.

  “Maybe I should get my car,” Aiden said.

  “It’s cold,” Scott said. “My car’s right here. Get in.”

  Aiden got in.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Scott said as they drove.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  Aiden didn’t answer. They pulled into Scott’s

  driveway, and Scott got out, heading for the house.

  Aiden didn’t move. Scott stopped partway up the drive

  and hurried back. He yanked Aiden’s door open,

  grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him out.

  “Come on, boy.”

  “I’m not your boy,” Aiden said.

  Scott slammed him against the side of the car.

  “You’re whoever I want you to be,” he said, his breath

  hot against Aiden’s face.

  “No,” Aiden said. “I’m not.”

  Scott didn’t answer. He led Aiden into the house

  and shut the door behind them. “Bedroom.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Scott slapped him. Aiden staggered backward.

  “Don’t make me tell you again.”

  In the bedroom, Scott ordered him to strip. Aiden

  refused. Scott shoved him against a wall and ripped off

  his shirt, buttons scattering on the floor. He knocked

  Aiden to the floor and yanked off his shoes, pants, and

  underwear, then pulled him upright once more. He ran

  his hands over Aiden’s chest, his stomach, his cock.

  “Don’t touch me,” Aiden said.

  Scott stopped suddenly, as though Aiden’s words

  were electric. “Turn around. Palms flat against the wall.”

  Aiden didn’t obey. Scott socked him in the stomach

  with a fist—not hard enough to do damage, but hard

  enough that Aiden doubled over. Aiden forced himself

  up and turned to face the wall. Scott reached around and

  pinched his nipples, pulling until Aiden cried out.

  “You’re a bad boy, aren’t you, Aiden?” Scott asked.

  “Is your boyfriend waiting for you at home? Wondering

  where you are?”

  “Don’t talk about him!” Aiden shouted. “Just hurt

  me.”

  Aiden felt Scott tense, then step back. The belt

  buckle jingled as Scott doubled the leather in his hand.

  “Brace yourself, kid. This is gonna hurt.”

  * * * *

  Keaton tried not to be pissed at Kim for letting

  Aiden go. If Aiden wanted to be alone, he should be

  alone. But Keaton couldn’t help worrying about him.

  Aiden’s state of mind might prevent him from driving

  safely. And once he was home, what would he do? He

  might grow even more distressed, left to his own

  devices. And what if he didn’t go home?

  He survived on his own before you, Keaton

  reminded himself.

  Hera offered to drive him back. Keaton said a numb

  good-bye to Kim and Sloane. If Aiden was home when

  he got there, they’d talk. If not, Keaton woul
dn’t stay up

  and wait for him. He’d let Aiden come back in his own

  time.

  On his way out, he nearly stepped on Aiden’s

  phone, which lay on the front stoop. He picked it up.

  Aiden was somewhere without his phone. Great. The

  screen flashed on as Keaton wiped the phone on his

  shirt, and Keaton saw that Aiden had a new text.

  From Scott Runge.

  Keaton froze, blood pounding in his ears. What was

  Scott Runge doing texting Aiden? He knew he had no

  business looking at Aiden’s message, but he couldn’t

  stop himself. He hit View.

  The text read: See u there.

  A quick scan through the past few messages

  revealed that Scott and Aiden had planned to meet at

  Obey to attend a party. Scott had offered to pick Aiden

  up.

  Keaton shook his head. He couldn’t let himself

  think about the implications of this. Couldn’t think about

  his own hurt, shame, or sense of betrayal. He had to

  think about Aiden’s safety. Aiden was with Scott Runge.

  Keaton had to find him.

  Except the pain was so awful that Keaton felt

  physically sick.

  Hera had backed the car out of the garage and now

  idled in the driveway, waiting for him.

  “You coming?” she called.

  Aiden had a voice mail too. Keaton listened to it as

  he walked to the car, hoping it was from Scott and that it

  would offer some clue to what was going on. It wasn’t.

  Keaton put the phone away and explained the situation

  to Hera.

  “Oh shit. No way. No fucking way. That idiot. That

  little piece of shit.”

  Keaton wasn’t sure if she meant Aiden or Scott.

  “We have to find him,” he said.

  “Do we?” Hera demanded. “I’m pretty sure this is

  natural selection at work, Keaton.”

  “Aiden’s not himself. He’s confused.” Keaton

  wasn’t sure he bought his own excuses for Aiden, but

  guilt was beginning to overtake anger. I shouldn’t have left

  him alone. I should have stayed in the bathroom and talked to

  him about whatever he wanted to talk about.

  But the earliest texts between Aiden and Scott were

  from midafternoon. This wasn’t some spur of the

  moment decision Aiden had made out of anger. He’d

  planned to go to this party with Scott.

  Keaton clutched Aiden’s phone, wanting to smash

  it against the glove compartment. He took a deep breath,

  aware that Hera was watching him.

  She put the car in reverse. “All right. We’ll find him.