The Rules Series

All Rights Reserved ©

Broken Rules 2: Landon

I’m staring at her. I don’t seem to be able to help it. I just can’t keep my eyes off her. I shouldn’t be staring. It’s not a good idea. It’ll probably give her the wrong idea. I’ve never seen anyone quite like her. She’s captivating. She’s wearing a pair of black skinny jeans – designer I can tell by the fit. If I had to guess I’d say Ralph Lauren – with a cobalt blue silk top that flows over her skin. It’s cut in a low v with spaghetti straps that cross over her back. One glance down her legs to her feet tells me her shoes match her top. She’s smiling at her friend and I can’t imagine her any other way – she’s perfect. I wonder if she even knows how to frown or look sad. I can’t imagine it. Her hair is like chocolate rolling in curls down her back. From this distance I can’t tell the colour of her eyes but I know they will be impressive. I feel drawn towards her. Just as I’m about to get up and make my way over to introduce myself she looks down at her empty drink before looking straight at me. I don’t look away. I can’t. She’s caught me staring but I don’t care, I just need a second to come up with a plan; a way to get to know her, an excuse. She looks back to her friend for a moment and I’m afraid that I’ve missed my moment but then she looks back, just a shy glance but it’s enough to tell me she’s interested and I’ve no control over the wide grin that covers my face. I steal back control of my face; poker face back in place I’m focused solely on her. There’s nothing else in the room but her. Then she’s saying something to her friend and getting to her feet. I’m worried that she’s leaving. Maybe I really did miss my chance. Fuck. But she isn’t turning towards the door and her friend isn’t following her and hope settles in my stomach. Maybe I haven’t missed my chance, after all. Considering how much she’s had to drink she’s very steady in those heels; those heels that accentuate her legs and the curve of her hips in the most intoxicating way.

I wait for her to say something when she reaches the bar but she doesn’t. She doesn’t even look at me and I’m disappointed. Perhaps I read her wrong; maybe she wasn’t interested after all. That doesn’t seem likely. There’s a reason why I’m so successful at what I do; I’m bloody brilliant at reading people. I know when I’ve won them over. I know when they are a lost cause. I know when they are interested and I know when they want to fuck me. She’s making me doubt myself; I never doubt myself. What the fuck is she doing to me? I’ve not even spoken to her yet and she’s making me ask questions I just don’t ask. I don’t doubt myself. I give myself a shake; sort yourself out Peters! She’s close enough that I can smell her. She smells incredible; like some sinfully exotic fruit that’s ripe for the picking. She’s touching me too, barely but it’s enough to send fire through my veins straight to my cock. Her shoulder is gently rubbing against mine. I have to stop myself from leaning into the sensation. She’s not even looking at me but I wonder if she’s as affected by me as I am by her. She’s biting her lip as she waits for the bar man. She looks as if she’s barely breathing. She turns her head slightly towards me and opens her mouth as if she’s about to finally say something when the bartender interrupts her. I mentally curse him as she orders her drinks; I’m not accustomed to people getting between me and what I want.

She’s ordering more tequila. Hasn’t she had enough? I’ve been counting how many shots she’s done. She shouldn’t have any more. I can’t stop myself, I laugh, “You sure like your tequila!”

She looks completely confused by my outburst and I think it might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s interesting because I’ve never really gone for cute before. Usually the women I hook up with are hot, sexy, but never cute. I mean this woman is clearly beautiful but it’s a sweeter beauty than I’m used to. She’s young and happy; undamaged. I like that. She looks like she’s struggling to find a reply but I’m not left waiting for long. “It’s a new preference.”

“I see,” I lick my lip as I take in every detail of her face, “so before you turned to tequila, what were you?”

“Pardon?” I’ve confused her again. For some reason, I take pleasure in it.

“A gin girl? A vodka girl?”

“Neither; I’ve never been much of a drinker,” I’ve made her blush. God that’s hot. Even as I take in her blush, I carry on the conversation. She tells me she’s never been drunk before and I raise my eyebrow. I know I look surprised. I usually try to control my facial expressions but with her it feels harder; it’s probably because she keeps confounding me. I’m giving more of myself away than ever before and I’m not sure I like it. I prefer to be the one in control of the situation. I lick my lips as I take her in; she’s an enigma. Earlier as I watched her I was sure I had her pegged; pretty, rich, party girl, slightly shy but up for some fun. With my profile of her character in mind I had felt in control. Now that she’s surprised me my grasp on control feels looser. I don’t know what to expect from her and it leaves me feeling off kilter. The barman is back and I tell him to put her drinks on my tab without taking my eyes off of her as she looks through her bag for her purse. I have a permanent tab in this particular bar. It’s a new addition to an old university friend’s chain of restaurants and clubs. I’m barely blinking; I know I must look severe but I feel like I have to take in every detail of her just so I might understand her. People often say that when I’m thinking I look closed off; as if I’m immune to emotion. I’m not. I just try not to let other people see it. In business, I don’t want to give anyone the upper hand and in dating... well let’s say, I prefer it when my dates don’t get close. That’s why I have rules. There are just some things that should be kept private; in fact most things should be kept private. That’s the way I like my life; private and controlled.

She turns back to me, “you don’t have to do that.”

I smirk, I’m fully aware of the fact, “I don’t have to do anything.” I don’t remember the last time I felt obliged to do anything. I only ever do what I want. I tell her to enjoy her drinks because I don’t know what else I can say to her. I’m not used to feeling like this; like I don’t know what to do. I’m always confident. I always know what to do. It might sound arrogant but I’m just self-confident. Usually this is easy for me. Normally I’d have already asked her back to my place and we’d be in my car barely talking as we drove back to mine. She’d be commenting on the interiors of my Lexus as my hand rested on her thigh. But instead she’s thanking me for her drinks and a part of me is scared that she’s about to walk away. The other part of me thinks that might not be a bad idea, she’s not the sort of girl I usually take home. Taking her home would probably break a rule; I’m just not sure which one. That’s not completely accurate; it’s more like how many rules would it break. Almost all of them? I don’t break the rules. I’ve never wanted to even. I’m watching her, still trying to get a grasp of who she is when her friend comes up behind her and makes her jump. I really don’t want her to go with her friend and so I’m delighted when she tells her friend to go and have fun with the blonde guy she’s met. Her friend glances at me with interest but I don’t even look at her, my focus is completely on the girl in front of me.

“Your friend is certainly excitable,” I say as she watches her friend leave with an affectionate look on her face.

My words get her eyes back on me and I’m grateful. “She’s...” she takes her time trying to describe her friend but in the end settles for “she’s Tallulah.” The love in her voice is clear. They’re good friends.

“And who are you?” I ask the question that’s on the tip of my tongue. I want to know her.

“I’m Aurora. Rory.” She’s shy again. Nervous. As if she’s not accustomed to introducing herself. That surprises me. Everything I’ve seen tonight; everything I know about her suggests that she should be incredibly confident. This should be easy for her but then again it should be easy for me too. And it’s not. It’s nowhere near easy so I can’t blame her for feeling shy. She rubs her neck, and I can’t help but glance down. Is she trying to be seductive? I get the impression she has no idea what she is doing to me. She’s smiling at me again and I can’t help but grin back.

“I’m Landon, are you going to do those shots?” I challenge her. I shouldn’t encourage her to drink anymore; she’s had enough, more than enough but I want to distract her so I can think up a plan to get her into my bed and the drinks on the bar are the only thing that comes to my mind so I go with it.

“Well I did get one for Lou but it doesn’t look like she wants it,” she looks towards the dance floor but I don’t follow her gaze, choosing to watch her instead. She’s everything she promised to be from across the bar. I knew she’d be beautiful. Her eyes are a blue calm ocean that is threatening to pull me under and consume me. “Would you like one?” she asks me.

I laugh because I haven’t done shots in years, “alright.” I try to recall the last time I did shots and I’m pretty sure it was at university with Jarrod and Jack; back when we were all living off our parents’ money; completely irresponsible and unbelievably reckless.

She passes me one of the shot glasses and a slice of lemon. We both try to pick up the salt at the same time and the fire that I felt earlier is back again. She must feel it too. I catch my breath. She’s blushing again. I like that blush. The women I usually sleep with hardly ever blush. I didn’t realise I was missing anything until I met her though.

I down my tequila and scrunch up my face as I suck on the lemon, but I never take my eyes off her. I want to take her home, but I’m not sure I can just ask her the way I normally would. She’s different to the others and I’m completely out of my element. I’m going to have to choose a different approach. “Do you want to dance?” I ask her because right now I really just want to touch her. Every part of me is focused on her. She’s like the fucking sun and the fiery current that’s coming off her in waves is burning me to the bloody core.

“Okay,” she bites her lip again as she gets down from her stool. I grab her hand and lead her through the crowd. The feel of her hand in mine is overwhelming. If it feels this good to hold her hand, how much better will it feel to kiss her? To touch her? To slide my dick into her slick heat? I’m tempted to take her to a quiet corner where I can misbehave but I know she’ll be more comfortable near her friend so I quickly scan the crowd for the blonde girl from earlier. When we reach her, I pull Aurora into my arms until I can feel her against my chest. Her friend has lost the boy now and is dancing with a darker haired guy and another blonde haired girl. I recognise the guy. He’d been sat with Aurora when I first saw her. He must be her friend too. He keeps looking over at us; he’s watching us with a protective glint in his eyes. He cares about her. I’m jealous; I think. I think that’s what it is; jealousy. He knows her. I arrogantly remind myself that I’m the one she’s dancing with. I’m the one holding her in my arms. Having her this close is intoxicating. I lean down and breathe in, taking in her scent. I gently kiss her neck before saying, “you smell amazing.”

I can’t see her face but I know she’s blushing and it turns me on. She catches me off guard when she leans up and kisses me gently on the lips. I think this girl might make a habit of surprising me. I kiss her back, almost immediately deepening the kiss with a swipe of my tongue across her lips. The kiss is intense. It’s deep and when she pulls away to breathe I’m left bereft. I pull her closer as if to lessen my loss. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want her in this moment. I kiss along her collar bone until she pulls me back up by my hair so that she can kiss me again. We are still moving to the music but I’m not sure I’d call it dancing. It’s too primitive. Raw. Needy. One of my hands is on her arse and the other is under her top, caressing her over her bra. It’s a good job the dark haired guy is distracted; he’s kissing a blonde girl. He’s not paying us any attention at all.

I pull away because I have to. If I don’t we’ll be having sex on the dance floor in front of her friends and half the city because I know that with her I could easily lose control. I think I want to. We look at each other and I decide I have to do something. I have to choose; either slow this down or go with it. I’m about to ask her to come home with me when she asks me if I want another drink. I don’t. I want her. Now. But I decide to do what she wants. Slow it down it is. I nod towards the bar. This time she pulls me through the crowd. Her friends barely notice us leave. The blonde is surrounded by about three different guys, each vying for her attention and the bloke is focused on the girl he’s making out with. Even though I’m with Aurora several girls try to get my attention as we approach the bar; they would make this easy for me I laugh to myself but that’s not what I want tonight. Tonight I want Aurora. She’s all I want.

When we reach the bar I stand behind her so close I can feel every inch of her against me. I’m getting hard and I hope she can feel it. I want her to know how much I want her. How much every part of me is attuned to her body. My hands are on her and I’m kissing her on her shoulder, her back, her neck, her ear... anywhere I can reach. She sucks in a breath as I suck on her neck, “I want you,” I tell her. My voice sounds harsh and uncontrolled; it reflects how I feel, completely lost like a stray fucking cat that’s found the fucking cream. I lick my lips at the thought. I feel wild with anticipation and excitement. She orders more tequila and I’m surprised by how steady her voice is. I thought I was affecting her too. I want to sulk. I’m not used to being the one doing the chasing. I glance around and as if to prove my point there are several girls giving me the look; the look that implores me to abandon Aurora and give them my attention instead but I’m not interested. I’m wealthy and attractive and at the risk of sounding shallow, that usually gets me what I want. I wear an expensive outfit, put a sexy smirk on my face, buy a girl a few drinks and take her home in my flashy car and it works every time. Except possibly tonight. I get the impression, Aurora isn’t impressed by that sort of thing. We down the shots and then I decide to make a move. I turn her round so that she’s leaning with her back against the bar. She’s looking up at me with big doey eyes now that I’ve got her trapped, my arms around her like a cage. I like the feeling it inspires in me. The sense of control, power. She’s at my mercy. She looks unsure, like she really doesn’t know how to respond, as she lowers her gaze towards the floor. I take pity on her and lean in to kiss her. She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me closer. The kiss is anything but gentle. It’s devastating. It’s the sort of kiss that would destroy a weaker man but Aurora doesn’t realise her own influence. She has no idea how she affects me. She’s irresistible and she’s completely overpowering me and although I’m enjoying the benefits, I’m not sure I’m going to like the consequences. Consequences are something I try to avoid. In fact, consequences are something I always avoid; negative or positive. The only consequence I allow is a brilliant orgasm. That’s always the climax. Then I leave and I don’t look back.

The music is loud but my heart beat might be louder, she’s driving me insane. I have to have her. I crave her; perhaps if I let myself have her just once that might be enough. Just one taste? She’s got me completely enticed. I’m not at all sure what it is about her that has me so captivated but I’m pretty convinced I can’t escape her. I know I definitely don’t want to; at least not tonight. No. Tonight I want her. Tonight I’ll do anything to make her mine. “Should we go find somewhere quiet?” I ask her because I think I might scare her off if I invite her back to mine just yet. I don’t want to scare her away. I don’t want to overwhelm her.

She nods but doesn’t say a word until we’ve found a private booth in the garden. There are people all around us but because of the nature of the booths we are completely out of sight. There’s a gentle breeze and she shivers as I pull her onto my lap and kiss her again. I’ve finally got her all to myself. If I was a lion, I’d be roaring in triumph. “You’re beautiful,” I tell her before I can stop myself. I usually avoid compliments. It’s actually a rule; don’t be too nice. Compliments suggest you are interested in more than just tonight and I am never interested in anything beyond the one night. I have another rule, only talk about sex or things that will lead to sex. I don’t talk about anything that might suggest that I want to know them better because I never do. God; I sound like a bastard but I’ve always been comfortable with that fact, until now. But because I’m genuinely intrigued I ask, “So why did you come out tonight?” I’m intrigued; intensely so. I want to know everything about her.

She’s slightly breathless but her eyes are fiery, “Tallulah came home today so I guess we’re sort of celebrating.” Tallulah; that’s the blonde friend; I’m nodding.

“You certainly looked like you were celebrating earlier,” I shouldn’t say it but I can’t stop myself. I’ve barely known her an hour and I’ve broken at least a dozen rules. Shit. It is against the rules but I can’t help myself. I want her to know that I have been watching; that I’ve been aware of her all night.

She blushes, “we were making a list.”

“A list?” I should drop this conversation and start kissing her again but I am completely engrossed in what she is saying.

“A list of rules to break,” she bites her lip again and I cup her chin with my hand, releasing her lip from its prison.

“What rules are on this list?” I ask as I run my fingers down her neck and along her collar bone.

“All sorts,” her voice is harsh and it’s nice to hear that I am affecting her. It’s almost a relief. “Just every rule my parents ever gave me.”

Her answer surprises me, “surely you’ve broken most of them already?” I really had misjudged her, it seems. Not many people can surprise me like that. I’m impressed.

She shakes her head, “nope. I’m very good at keeping the rules.” Those words do something to me. In that moment I picture her tied up and completely at my mercy. I’ve never thought of myself as particularly dominant but there’s something tantalising about the idea of her submitting to me; me giving her rules to follow. I could easily give her a couple of rules; I wonder if she could keep them. I find her control irresistible. I want her to give it to me. I want to make her lose it in an overpowering orgasm.

I want to ask what rules she wants to break but instead I find myself asking, “is there anything I can do to help?” And I’m hoping, almost praying that she says yes. Her answer isn’t immediate. She keeps me waiting. It’s frustrating.

She laughs but I can tell she’s thinking. She’s buying herself time. Her eyes are serious as she deliberates on what I have asked her. I’m anxious for her answer. “You could take me home,” she says confidently. Her eyes bright with an excited trepidation.

I give her a wolfish grin, “yours or mine?” I want to be certain.

“Yours,” she doesn’t miss a beat. She doesn’t even blush and it almost disappoints me. I promise myself that I’m going to spend the whole night finding ways to make her blush.

“Good,” I kiss her once more before saying, “let’s go.”

As we walk back through the bar to the exit, I wonder if she needs to say goodbye to her friends but she beats me to it when she says, “meet me at the exit? I need to say goodbye to Lou and Cameron.” That must be the name of the guy.

“I’ll come with you if you like,” I offer and take her hand without waiting for her reply. I’m not leaving her side now that I’ve got her to agree to come home with me. She’s mine tonight. We find her friends quickly. They are sat in a small group in the booth where I had first spotted Aurora sitting.

“We wondered where you got to,” Tallulah winks at Aurora. She regards me with interest; I get the impression this isn’t a regular occurrence for them. Tallulah looks like she’s assessing me and the dark haired guy Cameron, is looking at me with unconcealed concern and challenge. There’s a threat in there; he’s telling me he’ll fuck me over if I hurt her. I’m not intimidated at all by the challenge in his expression but I regard it seriously, nodding my head gently, acknowledging his silent declaration.

I watch Aurora as she awkwardly tells them that she will see them tomorrow and then we are heading out the door. Henry is waiting just outside with my Lexus. There is no visible sign that he has just been dragged out of bed by a text from his bothersome boss and for that I’m grateful. I’d texted him shortly after the first round of shots I had shared with Aurora. He has a smile on his face when he spots me coming towards him; probably thinking he’ll be able to get back to bed soon. The man might deserve a pay rise. It’s a good job I don’t make a habit of waking him up in the middle of the night. “Sir,” Henry opens the back door and I guide Aurora into the back seat before joining her, “thank you Henry.”

“Any time sir,” he replies, “where would you like to go?”

“Home.”

“Very well sir,” he nods before closing the door and walking round the car to the driver’s door. He gets in, places the key in the ignition and pulls out of the car park.

Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered publisher, providing a platform to discover hidden talents and turn them into globally successful authors. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books our readers love most on our sister app, GALATEA and other formats.