Authors: J. A. Rock
Tags: #General Fiction, #Romance MM, #erotic MM
BY HIS RULES
J. A. Rock
By His Rules
Copyright © January 2012 by J. A. Rock
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Editor: Christine Pacheco
Cover Artist: April Martinez
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product of the author’s imagination or are used
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“Then Daddy’d take your shorts down, put you
over his knee, and give you a good old-fashioned
spanking. You’d listen to Daddy then, wouldn’t you?”
“Mmm. Yes, Sir.” Aiden Cole tried to signal the
bartender for another gin and soda, making it too
obvious he was only half listening to Daddy.
He’d seen Daddy around here before and had
always felt privately grateful that the heavyset, bearded
top never approached him—until tonight.
The last ten minutes had confirmed Aiden’s
suspicion that Daddy was not particularly interesting or
arousing. Still, Obey didn’t hold many prospects on a
Monday night, and Aiden didn’t want to cast off the
possibility of spending tonight in short pants, squalling
theatrically while Daddy blistered his ass with what was
—Aiden had to admit—an impressively meaty palm.
Daddy-boy play freaked Aiden out a little. He’d
done two schoolboy scenes last week, but this little-boy
shit was a different ball game. Daddy was talking as
though he might require some thumb-sucking of Aiden
—not the kind of sucking Aiden liked to do.
Still, Aiden prided himself on his willingness to try
just about any scene. He had hard limits—blood,
needles, scat, rape—but one thing he loved about BDSM
play was the opportunity to take on new characters.
Naughty Boy Scout, palace slave, trembling virgin, high-
school slut… Aiden had played them all. It wasn’t exactly
the acting career he’d had in mind when he graduated
with honors from State University’s theater program last
year. He’d expected to be in New York or Chicago by
now, and he would be if he’d had the money. Aiden tried
not to let it get him down. He knew a lot of people who
took a gap year after graduation to travel, explore, and
“find themselves” before settling down and starting a
career. Aiden planned to spend this year discovering
what he truly wanted.
He glanced around the bar. A man sat alone at a
table in the corner. Surprisingly handsome—how had
Aiden missed him before? He was in his thirties, with
thick, light brown hair, wire-framed glasses, and eyes
that, even from a distance, suggested warmth and good
humor. His nose was perfectly straight, his lips full and
his jaw smooth and well-defined. Juxtaposed with this
almost delicate beauty was a firm masculinity. He didn’t
look like someone you’d want to tangle with. Aiden
could imagine those eyes going from warm to—not
cruel, not angry, but distinctly disapproving. Aiden got
the sense that a disapproving look was all this man
needed to cow an opponent.
The man caught Aiden’s eye and smiled briefly.
The smile wasn’t an invitation—the man quickly turned
back to the notebook he’d been writing in.
Who writes in a
? Aiden watched him take a sip of his drink.
Something clear. Vodka? Gin?
Aiden was so intrigued and exasperated by the
man’s eccentricity that he almost wanted to sit down
across from him and start flirting up a storm, force the
man to stop writing. Buy him a whiskey. Get him buzzed
“Out of your league,” Daddy said.
Aiden whirled. “What are you talking about?”
“Keaton Hughes. He’s out of your league.”
Aiden laughed. “No one’s out of my league.”
“All right, true enough. But if anyone was, it’d be
“Hot don’t make the top, honey.” Daddy gestured
to his own short, fleshy body. “Case in point. No, it’s not
his looks—though he is quite striking. It’s something
else. He’s not your typical top. Seen him in here once or
twice. Never takes anyone home. Never plays in the
“But you’ve met him?” For the first time that
evening, Aiden was interested in what Daddy had to say.
“Yeah, nice guy. I’m just not sure what he wants.
Maybe he’s not sure either. Maybe that’s why he’s here.”
Keaton didn’t look like a man who was unsure
about anything. He was still writing in his notebook. He
looked up, and his gaze caught Aiden’s once more, for
just a second. The faintest smile appeared on his face as
he returned to his writing.
Aiden stood. Whatever Keaton Hughes wanted,
Aiden could give him. “Excuse me,” he said to Daddy.
He’d barely taken a step toward the corner when he felt
the energy shift in the club. He turned and saw
something that made his heart wobble and collapse.
In full regalia—black chaps, thick leather straps
crossing his broad chest at the gleaming steel ring
between his perfect pecs. He wore thick-soled boots that
Aiden knew he made his subs polish with their tongues,
and kept a quirt tucked casually in his waistband.
Aiden’s ass clenched at the memory of how much that
thing stung. Even Aiden, renowned in the leather
community for his ability to give head, hadn’t lived up
to Scott’s demands when they’d played in Obey’s
basement dungeon last month. Scott hadn’t hesitated to
pop Aiden’s ass with that quirt whenever he was
dissatisfied with Aiden’s performance.
Aiden forgot everything, even Keaton Hughes. He
crossed the room as though pulled by a giant magnet,
eyes down, until he stood inches from the enormous pair
of boots. He watched Scott’s weight shift from one foot to
the other, and he swallowed. He willed himself not to
look Scott in the eye.
Difficult, since Scott had gorgeous eyes—electric
blue, holding a promise of excitement and danger. Aiden
shivered at the memory of the first time he’d failed to
obey an order from Scott, and Scott had said in a quiet,
“Look at me.”
Aiden had somehow forced
his gaze to meet Scott’s and, in an instant, saw the
Scott took from being in control, from seeing Aiden
tremble, from preparing to make Aiden hurt.
You didn’t look Scott Runge in the eye unless you
were ordered to. And if you were ordered to, it was
pretty much a guarantee you were in trouble.
“Hello, Sir,” Aiden said softly, not sure if Scott
would hear him over the music.
There was no reply, and Aiden thought for sure
Scott hadn’t heard him or was purposely ignoring him.
Suddenly a large, warm hand closed over the back of
Aiden’s neck. Fingers threaded through his hair.
“What a pretty boy.” Scott’s voice rumbled. He
tilted Aiden’s chin up. “I remember you. You’re the one
who can’t suck cock worth a damn.”
Hot fury rose in Aiden. Scott would be hard-
pressed to find a top here who agreed with him. Aiden
prided himself on his ability to suck dick, and it
devastated him that Scott Runge, of all people, didn’t
appreciate his talents. “Yes, Sir,” he murmured.
“Back for round two, huh?”
How the taunt in Scott’s voice could seem so
alluring was beyond Aiden.
“Think you can please me this time?”
“I’d like to try, Sir,” Aiden said, lowering his head
again, aware of Scott’s fingers still in his hair.
Scott yanked, and Aiden gasped. His head shot up,
and he saw that more than a few people were watching.
He wondered fleetingly if Keaton Hughes was among
“What do you think, boys?” Scott asked the crowd.
“Think I should give this pretty kid one more chance to
Agreeable laughter and light applause met his
question. Someone yelled, “Do it right here!”
The grip on Aiden’s hair was too tight to allow any
“What do you think, boy?” Scott growled in his ear.
“You coming home with me tonight?”
“Yes, Sir,” Aiden said. It was nothing like the