The Rules Series

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Broken Rules 8: Landon

I’m lying in bed next to an almost complete stranger. We haven’t even had sex tonight. This is the most surreal situation I think I’ve ever found myself in. We talked. We actually talked. We talked about things that I would struggle to talk to Jarrod or Jack about and I’ve know them since I was eighteen. I’ve known them a decade. A part of me wants to get out of bed and make a run for it but I know that if I do that I might as well say goodbye to the idea of ever seeing her again. That part of me, the part that wants to run, says that shouldn’t matter because everything I’ve done since I met her has been against the rules. But I can’t bring myself to care about the rules. At least not right now.

I roll over so I’m facing her. She’s lying on her stomach and her hair is sprayed across the pillow. She’s beautiful; perfect. She’d probably tell me off for saying that, especially after everything she’s told me about how good she is at keeping the rules that people put in place for her. I don’t think she likes the word perfect. Last night it seemed to offend her. It’s bizarre how she finds her rules limit her whilst I think my rules give me freedom. The freedom to do what I want with whoever I want; except her. This is the first time I’ve wanted to break the rules. The first time I’ve wanted there to be a second night or even a morning after. With her the freedom that I’ve enjoyed my whole life suddenly feels like a prison.

I lean over and kiss her on the forehead. She sighs, she’s still awake; “can’t you sleep, either?”

I chuckle because I haven’t even tried closing my eyes. She sits up and kisses me on the lips. I pull her down until she’s lying on top of me. I pull her pyjama top over her head and kiss along her collar bone. It’s almost certainly against her rules but I decide to give her a love bite. It’s that primal desire to lay claim to her again and it takes me by surprise as I suck on her skin. My hand is in her shorts and I find that she’s already wet. I love the fact she’s ready for me, “do you have any condoms?” I know that she had only lost her virginity the night before but I am seriously hoping she has a secret stash of ‘just in case’ condoms.

She shakes her head and I’m disappointed. I’m not willing to take risks; especially after talking about her sister getting pregnant. I’m mentally trying to work out how quickly Henry can get here to drop some off when she says; “But I know where I can get some.”

I lie back as I watch her climb out of bed and grab a robe that is hung up behind the door. She leaves the room and I think I can hear her rummaging about in the next room. When she comes back she has a handful of condoms. She quirks an eyebrow, “do you think we’ll have enough?” she chuckles and I can’t help but laugh with her.

I sit up and pull her towards me. I undo her robe and pull down her shorts before pulling her down onto the bed. I’ve still got my boxers on so I make light work of taking them off before taking the pile of condoms from her and placing them on her bedside table. I keep one of the foil wrappers and tear it with my teeth before sheathing my cock in the condom. “Are you still sore from last night?” I ask her gently. I don’t want to hurt her.

“No,” she smiles broadly at me and I believe her.

“Okay. Are you ready?”

She nods. I’m inside her before she stops nodding her head. I rock my hips gently and she pushes up to meet me. We find a perfect rhythm. Her hands are on me; in my hair, on my biceps, fingernails digging into my skin. Her legs are wrapped around my waist and I pull them higher so that I can go deeper. “Don’t close your eyes,” I tell her, “I want to see you.”

She’s so tight, I can feel her walls around me, like velvet or silk or something equally soft. We’re moving perfectly together, faster now as we both approach our peak. But then we’re both caught off guard by the sound of a key in the lock. I don’t stop; I don’t think I can, even if I wanted to and I definitely don’t want to.

She doesn’t seem to want to either, if the little gasps and moans she’s making are anything to go by. We can hear voices now. They are coming this way. “Zara baby, we need to be quiet. The girls will be asleep.”

There’s a bang and if I wasn’t so distracted I’d be concerned that they have hurt themselves. They are right outside the door and I’m sure I hear a pair of jeans fall to the floor. Aurora is oblivious to what her friend appears to be doing in her hall. She’s too lost in the pleasure I’m giving her; the pleasure of having me inside her. Her walls are closing in on me as she approaches her climax. She looks like she’s about to scream out and I’m not quick enough to cover her mouth. Instead she bites down on my shoulder and her orgasm takes me over the edge. I have to stop myself from moaning like a school boy but when she finally releases my shoulder, we’re both breathing hard and fortunately her friends are no longer in the hallway but safely inside Cameron’s room.

“That was...” she looks at me before licking her lips, “intense.”

“Intense?” I ask because I’m not sure that word quite covers it. “I think we need to go again.”

She giggles and I can’t resist giving her an opportunity to break another one of her parents’ rules.

“I imagine your parents, the good Christian people they are, are very particular about how to have sex in only appropriate ways...”

She’s confused or perhaps she’s just wondering where I’m going with this. “They would probably tell you that there is only one position appropriate for sexual intercourse.”

She’s giggling again and it pleases me, “I think it’s time I show you just how great sex can be when it’s not appropriate.”

Her eyebrow is raised but I can tell she’s intrigued. “Do you trust me?” It’s a big ask since she only met me last night but then again she let me tie her up so she must trust me some.

She smiles, “yes.”

“Good. Roll over and get on your hands and knees.”

She does as she’s told without a second thought. I take off the condom I was wearing and replace it with a new one. I spread her legs slightly further apart and line my cock up with her pussy. Then I whisper in her ear; “I’m going to fuck you now.”

The sun is just starting to rise when I wake up. I don’t move because I don’t want to wake her. She’s curled up at my side. This is the second day that I’ve allowed my usual routine to go out the window. If I’m going to make a habit of this I might have to keep some running clothes in the car. I’m shocked by the thought. It’s confusing; I’m supposed to be helping her break her rules, not mine.

I roll out of bed and sit on it’s side looking around at her room. It’s nice; simple, elegant, with bright white walls and minimalistic white furniture. There are a few photographs on the wall. I make my way over to them; there are photos of her parents, her friends Cameron and Tallulah, her sister. There’s one photo that catches my attention; it’s her graduation and she’s in her cap and gown. She has the biggest smile on her face. She’s beautiful.

There’s a second door that I hadn’t noticed last night. I’m hoping it’s a bathroom. I cross the room quickly and enter the en-suite bathroom. There are several fluffy towels on the shelf and so I decide to take a quick shower. I look inside her vanity cupboard, in search of a spare toothbrush. I’m not sure she’d want me using hers. I find a packet of tooth brushes and choose a blue one. I quickly brush my teeth and then place the brush next to hers. I grin at the sight but I’m not quite sure why.

She’s still asleep when I return to her room in a towel. I dry myself off and get dressed in my clothes from last night. I haven’t heard any noise from the other inhabitants of the flat so I trek back into the living room, flip the TV on and turn it to the news before making my way over to her kitchen to make us both some breakfast. Just as I am finishing off a pair of omelettes, someone enters the room, “Aurora? Is that you?” Tallulah turns to face me. Her face is a picture. “You’re not Aurora.”

I chuckle, “nope.”

“We’ve not actually met,” Tallulah smiles at me friendlily, “Landon right?”

Pride swells in my chest at the knowledge that she’s talked about me to her friend. “Yes. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tallulah.”

“Don’t bother calling me Tallulah,” she smirks, “very few people do. It’s usually Lou. The only people who call me Tallulah are Aurora’s parents and occasionally Aurora, when she’s being the dutiful daughter.”

This makes me chuckle, “do they not take well to nicknames?”

“No,” Lou grins, “Mrs Stone hates them; doesn’t stop Lewis calling Aurora Rory though.”

“What’s all the racket,” a yarn comes from the open doorway as Cameron walks into the room in just pyjama bottoms. He doesn’t even acknowledge my presence, merely making his way over to the coffee machine, “why haven’t you made coffee yet Lou?”

“Because I’m not your bloody slave. Make your own damn coffee.”

Humph, he grumbles as he makes the coffee. When he’s finally got a cup full, he notices me and says, “Who are you?”

“Landon,” I nod my head slightly.

“Landon? Why is that name so familiar?” he scratches his head.

“Probably because he’s the guy that Roo went home with the other night,” Tallulah fills him in and his eyes go wide.

“That’s right!” he chuckles, “nice to meet you. Where is Aurora?”


“Not bloody likely. That girl’s usually been up for hours when I wake up. Do you mean to tell me she’s not gone for a run this morning?”

I chuckle; it’s nice to know I’m screwing up her routine as well as my own.

“I’ll have you know, I don’t have any classes until this afternoon, so I can go for a run any time I want,” Aurora tells him as she walks into the room. “Besides,” she blushes slightly, “I forgot to set an alarm.”

She takes a step towards me, kisses me on the cheek, and smiles, “did you make breakfast?”

I smile back at her, “yeah. I hope you like omelette.”

“Do you want to eat on the terrace?” she asks, “omelette is great.”

“Sure,” I reply, aware that Cameron and Tallulah are watching us pretty closely and although it’s not intimidating, it’s definitely weird. “It was nice to meet you both.”

Lou smiles broadly and gives me a wave as she makes herself a bowl of cereal, “do you want to watch cartoons Cam?”

“Yup,” Cameron grins.

We sit at a little table and eat our omelettes in peace, “this is really good,” she tells me, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I’m pleased she likes it, “what do you have planned for today?”

“I have a class this afternoon and I need to go shopping. My parents have asked me to attend a charity function with them this weekend.”

I smile knowingly, “yeah, my mum is dragging me and my brother to that as well.”

She returns my smile, “what about you? What have you got planned for today?”

“Mostly work,” I’m still smiling, “and I’m going to see if I can meet my mother for lunch.”

“To talk about your dad?” she asks gently.

“Yeah,” I frown, “I need to do something. He can’t sell the company.”

An hour later, I’m sat in my office. I’ve dialled my mother’s number and I’m just waiting for her to pick up. The phone is on speakerphone and I’m typing an email as I wait. “Hello Landon,” I hear her voice, as she picks up. She sounds tired.

“How are you mum?” I ask as I finish off an email to Andrew Contius about the new accounts he is taking on in the interim.

“I’m very well, son. I understand you went out to dinner last night with your father.”


“And he told you?” she’s worried; I can hear it in her voice.

“He didn’t give me details, just said he was dying.”

“I see,” she tuts and I think she’s cross with my father.

“I wanted to know if you wanted to get lunch,” I ask her. “I don’t mind sending Henry to pick you up, if you are in Surrey.”

“No,” she replies quickly, “I’m already in the city. Where should we meet?”

“How about Thorpe’s? I know Jarrod will be delighted to see you.”

I can hear her smiling. My mother has always been very maternal and Jarrod didn’t have the same upbringing I did. My mother was always impressed by his drive to succeed regardless of his limitations and so she had been his first investor when he told our family that he wanted to go into the catering industry. She was like a mother to him; something he had never had.

Come midday I’m sat in my favourite booth at Thorpe’s waiting for my mother to arrive. She’s a few minutes late and so I take advantage of the moment to check my emails.

From: Catherine Jenkins ([email protected])

To: Landon Peters ([email protected])

RE: Ms Keenley’s Replacement

Time: 12:04

Attachments: advertisement.doc


Please find attached the advertisement we have designed to find a replacement for Ms Keenley. The ad will be put on the website, in the local paper and on relevant career search engines, unless you want to make any adjustments.

Pending applications, we would like to set an initial interview date for the 27th October.

Catherine Jenkins

Head of Human Resources

TRW Advertising

From: Landon Peters ([email protected])

To: Catherine Jenkins ([email protected])

RE: re: Ms Keenley’s Replacement

Time: 12:06

Ms Jenkins,

Everything seems acceptable. I am unavailable on the 27th; however I am available on the 26th.

Landon Peters

Managing Director

TRW Advertising

I hesitate for a moment before typing out another email.

From: Landon Peters ([email protected])

To: Aurora Stone ([email protected])

RE: Last Night

Time: 12:09


I’m looking forward to our dinner date tonight.

Thank you for inviting me round last night.

It was... intense. ;)

Landon Peters

Managing Director

TRW Advertising

Just as I am pressing send my mother joins me in the booth, “hello darling.”

“Mother,” I stand to my feet and kiss her on the cheek before sitting back down opposite her.

“How are you?” I ask her as I pour her a glass of wine.

“I’ve been very busy,” she smiles as she takes a sip, “plans for the fundraiser are going well. Lauren and I have been working tirelessly over the last few weeks. You are coming, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” I smile, before looking down at the menu, “do you know what you want?”

“Whatever the chef recommends,” my mother says without so much as a glance at the menu.

“I shall personally inform the chef,” Jarrod grins as he approaches our table and plops a kiss on my mother’s cheek, “how are you Mrs Peters?”

“Very good Jarrod; how are you?”

“Fantastic. Thank you,” Jarrod nods, “business is running smoothly. I recently bought a new club.”

“That’s great news, Jarrod, dear.”

“Is there anything else I can get you Mrs Peters? Landon?”

“No thank you,” I smile at my best friend, “just two of whatever the chef recommends. Thank you.”

As the last of our food is placed on our table, I place my napkin on my lap and turn towards my mother. She sighs, “You want to talk about your father?”

“Please,” I gesture with my hand for her to eat, “it can wait until we’ve eaten.”

“He’s asked you to take on the business again, hasn’t he?”

“Yes,” I really don’t know what else I can say.

“You said no?”

“Of course I did mother,” I feel like we are covering old ground, “I have no idea why he is insisting upon it. It’s not my area of expertise. I would make a terrible MD for P and P.”

“He has his reasons,” my mother replies quietly, “he is very protective of the company; it’s been his life’s work.”

“Ayden would make a fantastic MD,” I tell her, “he’s great with tech, he pays attention to the markets; he wouldn’t have to learn it to succeed. I would. I have my strengths but technology and technological advancement have never been on the list.”

“Your father will never make Ayden the MD of P and P International.”

“Why?” I’m missing something. There’s something she’s not telling me.

“You don’t need to know,” she looks distressed, as if this conversation is hurting her.

“I do,” I’m cross now. I’m fed up of my parents trying to control me. “If you expect me to take on this company then I want a reason why.”

My mother, always the society woman, puts her best smile on her face and crosses her legs, before taking a deep breath, “very well.”

I give her a moment, “you’ll hate me.”

I’m confused. I can’t imagine anything on earth that could make me hate my mother. “Mum, I doubt that very much.”

“Two years ago your father learnt about an ongoing affair between myself and one of his business associates.”

“Who?” I ask, not that it matters particularly.

“Thomas Thorpe.”

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