Rule Breakers (Off Limits #2) - Nicky James Page 0,45

for me.”

“I can’t.”

“Fine. I’m going to bed.”

“What? Seriously? It’s only, like, ten o’clock.”

“And I’m tired.”

Edison sagged under the weight of my announcement.

I kissed his cheek as I passed him by. “Behave yourself. You’re a little shit sometimes.”

Edison rolled his eyes. “You’ve got it backward, Uncle Denver. If I behaved myself, if we behaved, none of this would be happening right now.”

“Touché. Good night, Edison.”

I escaped, locking my bedroom door behind me. The kid was unpredictable and seemed to have developed some twisted notion he was in control of this situation. I wouldn’t put it past him to sneak into my room when I least expected it. Not that waking up to a sweet mouth around my cock was a bad thing.

I pulled out my phone as I sat on the edge of my bed. Harley should have made it home by now.

Denver: You watched him jerk off?

The response was immediate.

Harley: He offered. I wasn’t about to tell him no.

Denver: And?

Harley: My dick was so hard when he was done, I wished your lips were there so I could have shoved between them and fucked your throat until I came too.

I blew out a steadying breath, waited for a second while my heart calmed, and typed again.

Denver: And what did you do about your problem?

Harley: Nothing. I drove him to your house with my aching hard dick pinched against the zipper of my jeans. It was incredibly uncomfortable. But believe me, I’m taking care of it now.

The image of Harley jerking off was enough to make me hard. A sympathy yank was in order. But I had more questions.

Denver: Are you both on board? What’s going on?

Harley: We’ll talk tomorrow.

I texted him three more times, but he didn’t respond. Like a petulant child, I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow. If they’d made up their minds, I wanted to know now. It served me right. When I’d thought I had all the control, Harley made sure to step back up to the plate and insert himself into the place he’d always claimed as his own.

Relenting, I crawled under the covers and got myself off to fantasies of what our conversation the following day could entail. It would have been too easy to sneak into Edison’s room and find relief, but I didn’t. I had no doubt he’d be willing, but something in the back of my mind told me I was playing with fire now, and if Harley found out, he wouldn’t be pleased.

The storm finally broke. All day, the sun shone bright, reflecting blindingly off the white wintery landscape. The plows were out all day, rumbling along, dumping obscene amounts of salt and scraping the roads clean.

By dinnertime, travel was no longer compromised. Harley asked me to meet him at some Mongolian restaurant downtown near his work. It was a small establishment, but its best feature was the open grill where you could watch the chefs make your food. The hot sizzle of frying meats filled the air, and the mixture of aromas made my stomach growl.

Low hanging light fixtures gave off a yellow glow, highlighting the quaint dining room. Circular tables and padded chairs took up most of the space, but one wall was lined with booths. Harley had taken a booth near the open grill and waved when I walked in, drawing my attention as I scanned the restaurant.

I dropped onto the padded bench across from him. He was sipping lemon water and eyeing the menu. “I’m starving,” he announced.

“I love how casual you are. Am I to assume none of this bothers you anymore? Your behavior suggests my old, no-fucks-to-give Harley has risen from the grave.”

His smirk was reminiscent of the good old days when we were in college. “Shut up and relax. Order a beer, look at the menu, and chill out. We’ll get there.”

“I fucking hate you like this. Smug bastard.”

He winked, suggesting he was not put off by my indignant attitude in the least. But this was Harley, ladies and gentlemen. If I’d thrown him off with my proposal, I should have known it was only a matter of time until he found his feet again and came back with his own hits.

“Wanna share some dishes?” he asked.

“Order whatever you want. I’m not picky.”

“Runs in the family.” Another sly wink.

When the waiter arrived, Harley rhymed off a number of dishes, more food than two grown men should be able to consume. When I questioned him, he shrugged and told me to take the leftovers