By His Rules (8 page)

With a last pat to his blazing rear, Scott pulled the

covers over Aiden. “Sleep,” he said.

As Aiden drifted off, he heard Scott go into the

bathroom. He really did feel good. This was the kind of

thing he liked—being ordered around, pampered,

spanked… Scott had delivered a hard spanking, but it

wasn’t like the whippings he usually gave Aiden. There

would be no lasting welts or bruises, no broken skin. Just

this delicious ache, the feeling of being claimed and

kept.

He slept.

* * * *

clock read 3:06. Aiden slipped out of bed and went into

the living room, opening his laptop and pulling up his

grad school applications. He’d hoped to log a couple of

hours on them tonight while Scott was asleep.

“
Describe the qualities and accomplishments you will

bring to this graduate program
.” How the hell did he know

what qualities and accomplishments he’d bring? He

placed his fingers on the keyboard but couldn’t even

think of an opening sentence. Shit. He was never going to

get in. Both Case Western and Irvine had hundreds of

applicants, all of them probably better actors than Aiden.

Stop
it, he told himself. He was a hard worker,

dedicated to his craft.
But between Joe’s Steakhouse and

coming here for training, I’m losing time I could spend honing

my craft
. He chewed a hangnail until it started to bleed.

He didn’t even notice Scott standing in the doorway until

Scott cleared his throat. Aiden jumped.

“What are you doing?” Scott asked. He was naked,

the bulges and furrows of his muscles catching Aiden’s

cock’s interest even as his throat tightened with fear.

“Working on grad school apps,” Aiden said, trying

to smile. “It sucks.”

Scott folded his arms across his chest and leaned

against the door frame. “Grad school?”

“Yeah. I want to get my master’s in theater.”

“You’re gonna spend all that time and money to get

an advanced degree in
theater
?”

Aiden blushed. “I don’t actually have to spend any

money if I get into a good enough program. They’d

waive my tuition and give me a stipend.”

Scott stepped into the room. “What are the odds of

that happening?”

“Um. Case Western accepts eight applicants every

other year. And UC Irvine’s about the same.”

Scott laughed. “You’ve got a better shot at winning

the lottery.”

Aiden bristled. “It’s competitive. But if they like my

audition and my interview… ”

“Sounds like an excuse to me.”

“An excuse?”

“To avoid the real world. Stay in school as long as

you can. Don’t get a real job.” Scott stood beside the

couch. His half-hard cock would have made Aiden ache

with hunger if he didn’t resent Scott so much right now.

“Will graduate school really make you a better

actor? I mean, you either have it or you don’t, right?”

“I’ll learn new techniques. And I’ll get experience in

professional productions.”

Scott shook his head. “It’s your life. Just seems like

a waste of time to me.”

“It’s
not
,” Aiden said hotly, hating that he sounded

like a petulant kid.

Scott raised his hands. “Whatever you say. You’re

not really expecting to get in, though, are you? With

those odds?”

Aiden looked down at the paper in his hand. “I

don’t know,” he mumbled. “We’ll see.”

“Put it away.”

Aiden looked up.

Scott nodded at the application. “Put it away. I

didn’t say you could get out of bed.”

“You were sleeping—”

“You want to piss me off?”

Aiden closed his eyes. “No, Sir.”

“Come back to bed. I need a blowjob.”

Aiden shut his laptop, turned off the light, and

followed Scott down the hall, trying not to stew. How

did Scott know Aiden wouldn’t get in? He’d never seen

Aiden onstage. For all Scott knew, Aiden was a brilliant

actor and would have all his top choice programs vying

for him.

But a voice inside his head needled him, telling

him the reason he objected to Scott’s words was that

deep down, he knew they were true. His odds weren’t

good. Maybe grad school was a waste of time. If he was

going to be an actor, why not start now? Move to a city.

Start auditioning.

But what if Aiden couldn’t be an actor, period?

What if he wasn’t cut out for anything more than waiting

tables at Joe’s?

Scott snapped his fingers. “Let’s go, Shithead.”

They were back to Shithead. Aiden looked at the

superb body sprawled on the bed and tried to reclaim

his good mood from earlier in the evening. The bath had

felt so good, the sex had been so hot… Scott had dropped

the brutal master act, and for a short time, Aiden had felt

almost like they were lovers. But now Master Scott was

back, waiting for Aiden to serve him. He didn’t care

about Aiden’s life, Aiden’s future plans. He cared only

that Aiden jumped when he snapped his fingers.

He took Scott in his mouth. There was a time he’d

thought he had a talent for this too, but now he felt self-

conscious about giving blowjobs. In addition to pointing

out what Aiden was doing wrong, Scott liked to describe

how Aiden looked while he was giving head—red-faced,

sweaty, contorted. Ugly. Tonight, though, Scott was

silent except for his moans as he fucked Aiden’s throat

and a growl of displeasure when Aiden gagged on his

dick.

When he was done, Aiden swallowed and curled

away from Scott. Scott slept instantly, but Aiden stayed

up the rest of the night, worrying that he had no future at

all.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Hera said, “but I’m taking a

class at the community college.”

“
You
?” Aiden feigned shock. “You hate school.”

“Calm down. I’m not getting a PhD or anything. It’s

a pottery class. They have better supplies than I do in my

studio. And I’m actually learning a lot.”

“Next thing you know, you’ll be at State. Rushing

sororities, partying every weekend… ”

“Shut up. This is a one-time deal. It just happens to

not be as terrible as I imagined. I’m getting enough crap

from Sloane, so you can save it.”

“It’s just that you’re, like, so anticollege.”

Hera shrugged, keeping her eye on the tubs of

salad dressing she was refilling. “I really like Professor

Hughes. You would too. He’s way handsome. And he’s

into the scene.”

“What scene?” Aiden asked, handing her another

jug of Italian.

“Your scene, dumb-ass.”

“How do you know?”

“Just a guess. He showed us some illustrations

from a Dutch printing of
Juliette
, by the Marquis de Sade.

Crazy stuff—men and women tied up and whipped,

lines of men with their cocks up each other’s asses… ”

“That doesn’t mean he’s—whatever.”

“He’d be a sexy top.”

“Wait, did you say Professor Hughes?” Aiden was

so tired it had taken him a minute to put two and two

together.

“Yep.”

“What’s his first name?”

“Keaton. Ridiculous, right? But kind of hot.”

“Oh my God,” Aiden said.

“Do you know him?”

“I saw him at the club a couple of weeks ago.”

“So I’m right!”

“I don’t—maybe. He didn’t seem interested in

anyone there.”

“Not even you?”

Aiden shook his head. “He barely looked at me.”

“That must be a first for you. Maybe he’s not really

into the lifestyle. Maybe he’s just researching.”

“Yeah.” Aiden’s mind whirled.

“Where’s the Thousand Island?”

Aiden handed her the tub. “We should go to Obey

tonight.”

“We?” Hera raised an eyebrow. “What would I do

at an S&M club?”

“We should see if he’s there.”

“Gross. I mean, he’s hot and everything, but I don’t

want to see him in assless chaps.”

“You could totally embarrass him. You love

subverting authority.”

Hera looked thoughtful. “That’s true. I would love

to see the look on his face if I came up to him in a leather

bar and started making small talk.”

“So you’ll come?”

“What about Master Scott? Hasn’t he banned you

from flirting at Obey?”

“Not specifically. I mean, I can’t go home with

anyone else. But he didn’t say I couldn’t go at all.”

“Good. I was starting to think you couldn’t move or

speak without his hand up your dummy ass.”

“It isn’t that bad,” Aiden muttered.

“No? I haven’t seen you eat a meal in weeks. Does

he
let
you eat?”

“Of course he does. I’ve been eating at home.”

“Your pants don’t fit. You’ve got a length of extra

belt hanging practically to your knees.”

“Shut up.”

“You don’t look healthy. You look exhausted and

half-starved, and what you’ve told me about Scott scares

me a little.” Hera stared at him until he had to turn away.

“I’m fine.”

“The hell you are. Do you have any idea how many

times I’ve had to cover for you the last couple of days?

I’ve refilled your tables’ water glasses, brought ketchup

you promised but never delivered, split checks you

printed out as single… ”

“I did all that?”

“Yeah, champ, you did. So let’s go to Obey and find

you some big cuddly bear who likes fur-lined cuffs and

feeding you grapes. And you can forget Scary Scott.”

“He’s not scary.”

“I live with two women. Our menstrual cycles are

synced. I know scary. Your top is scary.”

Aiden laughed.

“I’m serious, Aiden. That man is bad news.
Bad
.”

“Do me a favor and keep your nose out of it,

okay?”

“Okay. But don’t come crying to me when he—”

“Hera, shut up.”

Hera wiped a ranch streak off the counter with a

paper towel. “Hand me the house Italian,” she said.

Under her breath, Aiden heard her mutter, “Dork.”

* * * *

Aiden found inexplicably disappointing. What had he

planned to do if Keaton was there?

Obey catered primarily to gay men, and some of

the patrons cast Hera suspicious looks as she and Aiden

made their way to the bar. But Hera could interact with

anyone, and Aiden ended up feeling like a heel when he

finally pulled her away from a group of tops she’d

engaged in a conversation about some cake-decorating

show.

“You ready to go?” he asked. “I’m beat.”

“Just let me finish my drink,” Hera said.

As she drained the last of her cocktail, Aiden

glanced around. His stomach plummeted. Scott was

standing by the basement entrance, talking to a couple of

twink subs. He looked up just as Aiden’s gaze fell on

him. “Shit,” Aiden whispered.

“Done,” Hera said. She looked up at him, then

followed his gaze to the basement door. “Who’s Mr.

Beady Eyes there?”

“That’s Scott.”

Scott’s face hadn’t changed expression since he’d

spotted Aiden, but he dismissed the two twinks with a

nod and continued to stare at Aiden and Hera.

“
That’s
Scott?” Hera said. “I was expecting someone

hotter.”

“He is hot,” Aiden said, annoyed.

“He’s well constructed, yes. But he doesn’t look

nice
.”

“So?”

“So he looks creepy, not sexy.”

Scott approached them, and Aiden tried to keep his

heart rate under control.

“What are you doing here?” Scott asked.

“He’s showing me around,” Hera said, giving Scott

a less than friendly stare.

Scott glanced at her, then looked back at Aiden.

“Looking for someone to go home with?”

“No, Sir,” Aiden murmured, embarrassed to be

interrogated in front of Hera, who thrust her hand at

Scott.

“Hello, by the way. I’m Hera.”

“Scott.” Scott shook her hand, his attention still on

Aiden. “You’ll come home with me,” he said firmly.

“But it’s not my—” Aiden began.

“You’ll come home
with me
,” Scott repeated. His

tone left no room for argument.

“He’s my ride,” Hera said.

Scott glanced at Hera once again, as though she

were a slightly irritating pet. “Take her home,” he said to

Aiden. “Then come to my place.”

“He’s tired.” Hera put a hand on Aiden’s shoulder.

“I’m not,” Aiden said, shaking her off.

“You just told me you were.”

“I’m fine.”

Hera glared at Scott. “What do you want with

him?” she demanded.