Break the Rules (Rough Love Book 7) Read online

  Break the Rules

  Rough Love 7

  Leighton Greene

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  © 2019 Leighton Greene. All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the author.

  All characters in this book are eighteen or older.

  Edited by Mary Novak at www.msnovakedits.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  NEXT

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  Also by the Author

  Chapter One

  If anyone asked Benjamin Ballard right now, he’d tell them straight up: he’s living the dream.

  He’s building his career as a writer of scripts, plays and poetry.

  He’s banging the hottest guy on the planet.

  He’s about to jump into a 24/7 total power exchange trial with said hottest guy, and that’s scary…but exhilarating.

  There’s only one thing that would make it more perfect, and that would be going back to his boyfriend’s apartment while they carry out this experiment. Ben stretches lazily in the hotel bed. It’s comfy, but it’s still a hotel bed. He only has a few days left in New York and then he has to return to the real world—or as real as the entertainment industry gets, anyway.

  Ben is waiting for Xander Romano, his boyfriend and soon-to-be full time—what, Dominant? Master? Owner? Well, whatever—to get off the phone. Xander’s voice is measured and pleasant, but forceful: he will not be able to attend a last-minute interview that The Hunter showrunners want him to do. Xander’s fame is growing by the day, and the studio are always anxious to get him out there to promote the show, but Xander is immovable. He has a previous engagement.

  He glances at Ben as he says it, and gives him a wink. Ben grins back as he waits for the showrunners to figure it out. Once Xander Romano has made up his mind about something, that’s it. No if, ands, or buts. If Xander has decided to turn down an interview, neither hell nor high water will make him do it. If Xander has decided he wants to try a total power exchange with his boyfriend…Ben shivers in gleeful anticipation.

  Yep. Whatever Xander wants, Xander gets.

  For the next few days, at least.

  After the call, Xander talks Ben into a few yoga asanas—and the fact that Ben now knows what that word means makes him want to laugh at himself—and then they go out for lunch, heading uptown, since Xander is starring in a script-reading for their friends Elijah and Dean at Columbia’s School of Arts in the early evening. There are paparazzi waiting outside Hotel Noir, where Ben is staying by command of his agent, so Xander lays on the charm to hotel staff, and they get taken out a back door instead to jump into a taxi.

  “Fucking paparazzi,” Ben spits.

  “Hey, watch it. No exploding with rage. Not until after we eat, anyway.”

  “When are we starting this trial thing? Because until then I’m going to bitch about the fucking paparazzi all I like. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “We’re starting now.”

  “We are not. Wait, really? For serious?”

  “Yes,” Xander says firmly. “So no bitching about the fucking paparazzi.”

  Ben gives him a wicked grin, and opens his mouth to say something needling, but Xander gives him a look. “Don’t blow the very first test, Benjamin.”

  “There are tests?”

  “Yes.”

  Ben sighs, slumps back into the seat. “Fine. I’ll be good.” But his heart is beating faster. Xander never said anything about tests before.

  They decide on a small bistro, and the hostess trips all over her words as she greets them. Obviously a fan of Xander’s TV show, The Hunter. Xander takes it graciously, even when she asks for an autograph. That’s when Ben realizes just how huge Xander’s career really is right now, if even cynical New Yorkers will react like that. No wonder the showrunners were desperate to get Xander into yet another interview.

  “You don’t need that,” Xander says, after they’re seated and looking at menus.

  “What?”

  “The menu.” Xander smiles at his expression. “To think you’re actually surprised about that.”

  “Yeah, to think.” Ben tosses the menu down, a little harder than he meant perhaps, and it skids across the tabletop to rest under Xander’s fingers.

  “Good manners cost nothing, Benjamin.” There’s that look again—that I can make your life very difficult look.

  “I’m sorry.” Ben tries to make it sound sincere.

  “Apology accepted, but I suggest you watch yourself.”

  This is what you agreed to, Ben reminds himself. And when Xander orders him a goddamn veggie burger with freaking carrot sticks on the side instead of fries, and bleu cheese dressing for his salad when he knows Ben prefers ranch—it’s all he can keep telling himself. You agreed to this. Suck it up, buddy.

  “If you’re good and eat it all, you may have dessert.”

  Of course he eats it all. If Xander’s trying to wear him down, he’ll have to do a lot better than this. As it turns out, the burger tastes better than Ben thought it would.

  “Would you like dessert?” Xander asks afterwards. Ben stares intently at the table while he deliberates, and then looks up and smiles.

  “If you think I deserve it, Xander.”

  “You’re a quick study.”

  “It pays to be, with you.”

  Xander laughs, a genuine laugh. “Pick whatever you like.”

  Ben chooses lemon meringue pie, and Xander has a raspberry torte. Without asking, Xander steals more than a few forkfuls of Ben’s pie, but Ben says absolutely nothing about it. Xander watches his face when he slides his fork deliberately, slowly into the crisp white shell and pale yellow custard. And Ben watches him back as Xander sucks the tines of the fork clean.

  “You’re being very good,” Xander tells him, going in for another forkful.

  “Thank you.”

  “It doesn’t bother you that I’m eating this?”

  “Not really, no.”

  “Last time you were very possessive of your food. Remember?”

  “Last time you got pissed at me when I just gave in. But it’s different this time, right?”

  Xander smiles his sharp bedroom smile, and it catches Ben off guard. Xander rarely looks at him like that in public. It feels like a shot of adrenaline. “How is it different? Tell me.”

  Ben shrugs. “Last time, I told you
that you weren’t the boss of me. But that’s different now. For a couple of days, you are the boss of me. Right? And you’re taking whatever you want from me, because you can. And that’s alright this time.”

  Xander shifts a little in his chair, and murmurs, “Jesus, Benjamin. Keep talking like that and I’ll have to drag you into the bathroom and have my way with you.” They look at each other for a moment before Xander grins, and Ben grins back.

  “Regaining your balance?” Ben asks.

  “Rapidly.”

  Xander orders chai lattes for both of them, which have infiltrated even this thoroughly Italian bistro to Ben’s chagrin, and they talk about trivial things, easy and happy, and if this is how it will be, Ben thinks, then it’s not bad. Not bad at all. Apart from the chai.

  “But you don’t really want to control what I eat, do you?” he asks later, on the street.

  “Not particularly.”

  “Yeah, because you said before, that kind of stuff gets boring.” Xander says nothing; merely puts on his sunglasses and fishes in his pocket for earphones. But Ben is determined to get an answer. “So it was a test?”

  “Of a sort.”

  “What are you testing?”

  Xander looks around to make sure no one is too close to them. “I’m just feeling out the boundaries, Benjamin. Finding what we’re both comfortable with. Look, I have to go, I’m seeing Elijah and Dean before this reading tonight. Go buy a notebook after your meetings, and start writing, like we discussed. I’ll meet you back at the hotel later.”

  “Can’t we go back to your apartment?” Ben is tired of the hotel. He feels more comfortable at Xander’s place. The hotel feels too transient. But Xander doesn’t say anything, just waits. “Fine, whatever. Jeez.”

  Xander tips his sunglasses slightly down his nose and looks at Ben over the top of them.

  “I’m sorry,” Ben says between gritted teeth. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

  Xander pushes the glasses back up and smiles, his eyes inscrutable behind the dark lenses. “I’ll see you later, baby. At the hotel.”

  “Yeah. Later. Hotel.”

  Xander pulls him close to kiss him, a soft, teasing, extended kiss that tells Ben exactly how much he’s loved and wanted. “Be good,” Xander calls over his shoulder as he walks off.

  “Oh, I’ll show you just how good I can be,” Ben murmurs.

  Chapter Two

  Ben’s agent, Ramona Jones, has set him up on a coffee date with yet another one of her powerful clients, but Ben thinks the meeting was more productive than some of them have been. He paid attention the whole way through, for one thing, which will mean less bitching from Ramona, and fewer exasperated phone calls. He gets back to the hotel feeling pretty good, and waits for Xander, who said he’d be back in the evening.

  In the meantime, Ben writes.

  Or tries to write.

  Writing, for Ben, is something of a mystical experience, which he would never admit to anyone, because that sounds so dumb. But today is different. He’s not writing for himself, or even for the market; he’s writing for Xander. As part of their power exchange for the next few days, Ben is required to write down his thoughts and feelings about the experience. But everything he puts down seems stilted and superficial. He wants to cross out most of it, but he figures Xander wouldn’t like that, so he just leaves it.

  Today you made me eat carrot sticks; it sucked. I would have preferred fries. But you know that. However, I enjoyed dessert.

  Xander, I have no idea what you want me to write here.

  I’m worried about where this might end up. But on the other hand, it doesn’t seem like much has changed.

  “It sure ain’t Shakespeare,” he says to himself, and then hears the door opening. He looks up, pleased. “Xander.”

  “Benjamin.” Xander pauses as he reaches the room, looking him over. “Is there a reason you’re still dressed? Something I should be aware of?”

  “No, I was waiting. For you.” Xander looks at him, raises an eyebrow, and Ben feels a strange uncertainty flooding through him. Has he fucked up already? It hasn’t even been twelve hours. “I thought the being naked thing was just when you were here. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Be obedient.”

  And Xander goes into the bedroom. Ben hears him making a phone call and feels a surge of annoyance. The whole point of this nakedness thing is for Xander to see it, not ignore it, so why should he be naked when Xander’s not here? And why is Xander not watching him? He’s supposed to watch, like he normally does, watch Ben undress and then—

  “You didn’t tell me I was supposed to be undressed even when you’re not here,” he says as Xander comes out of the bedroom. Ben is down to his briefs now, and shoves them down defiantly, but Xander just walks past him to grab something from the mini-bar. “Xander.”

  “My play reading went well, thanks for asking,” Xander says, swigging from a water bottle.

  “Oh.” Ben had forgotten about that. “Well, good to hear. Do you wanna go out to eat? Did you eat already?”

  “We’ll get room service again for dinner,” Xander says.

  Xander looks tired, Ben realizes. “Are you okay?”

  “Just the day catching up with me.”

  Ben wants to hold on to his irritation, but his natural concern overrides it. “Come and lie down for a while. You could have a nap. Then we can order dinner.”

  Xander frowns. “I don’t want to nap.”

  “But you look tired.”

  “I said, I don’t want to.”

  “But—”

  “Could you please just be quiet?” Xander snaps, and Ben shuts his mouth. Xander finally looks at him and runs a hand through his hair, closing his eyes for a moment. He walks over, and Ben fights the urge to duck and cover, but Xander hugs him. “I’m sorry. I know you’re just concerned. I didn’t mean to snarl at you like that. That wasn’t fair of me. I’m just feeling on edge. This thing, what we’re doing—it’s making me antsy.”

  Ben nods as Xander pulls away. You’re not the only one.

  “Did you write for me?” Xander asks.

  Ben silently passes him the new journal, and Xander skims it. “You need to write more,” he says briefly. “And more about how you feel. Less about carrot sticks. But this is a start. Thank you.” He passes it back. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

  Ben resists the urge to roll his eyes and makes a flailing gesture instead.

  “Ohhh, right. I told you to be quiet.” Xander, finally, grins. “I didn’t actually mean that as a command. Sorry. But thank you for making an effort.”

  “So I can talk now?”

  “Sure. How did your meetings go?”

  “Fine. Why are you on edge?”

  Xander looks away, glazes over.

  “Does the Honesty Policy still stand during this trial?” Ben asks pointedly, and watches Xander scrunch up his face.

  “How is it that that always comes around to bite me in the ass?” Xander mutters. “I was just thinking, a lot. About you and us and this. Wondering how much I can really take from you during this before it’s too much. I spent most of my time with Elijah and Dean thinking about how I wanted to take advantage of this situation, and then the rest of the evening feeling like I needed to reel myself back in, you know? So I’m just feeling a bit all over the place. A bit drained. And by the way, I’ll never tell you to stop talking just to finish an argument. That’s a really bad idea.”

  Ben nods. “Good to know. But Xander…you should just take what you want. That’s the point of what we’re doing. If it’s too much, I’ll tell you, and you have to trust me on that. But I want to do this for you. I want you to do it for me. You don’t have to hold back.” Ben is petrified even as he’s saying it, but it’s true, that’s what he wants. He wants to find out just how deep his own desires run; how subservient can he get before he rebels? “We’re doing it, so…we should really do it.”

  Xander stares at him, and Ben se
es his expression change; the strain replaced by acute desire. Longing. And then Xander nods. “Alright. I’ll keep that in mind. Are you hungry?”

  They order dinner, and Xander doesn’t say anything at all about what Ben can or can’t have, doesn’t take a single bite of his food, and then they play Hangman until they argue about the correct spelling of ‘harquebus’, and there’s no dictionary. Xander is fired up and ready to go down and demand a dictionary from the hotel’s front desk, but Ben is weak from laughter.

  “Dude, in this trial thing, can’t you just say you’re right and that’s it?”

  “I don’t have to say I’m right, because I am right,” Xander sniffs.

  Ben is lounging across a footstool on his stomach, occasionally sitting back on his heels when his diaphragm complains. The nudity has become second nature to him as the night has progressed, and even Xander isn’t gazing at his bare butt with quite the same intensity.

  “So this is fun,” Ben says. “Although this feels like normal. I thought it would feel…different.”

  Xander emphatically scribbles in the ‘h’ in ‘harquebus’ and smirks a little. “Feels different to me. Besides, I don’t have to actively exert control over you every second of the day just to know I can.”

  “I guess,” Ben yawns.

  “You guess? Benjamin, if I wanted to, I could make you stand silently in the corner until I decided it was your bedtime. And you would do it. I could tell you to sleep on the floor all night. And you would do it. Or I could tell you to stay still on the bed and let me cut into you—five, six, ten times. And you would do it.”