Broken Rules Page 19

  Sanyam didn’t bring up the possibility of Fox finding another place to live, either. He liked what they had too much, liked knowing that even if Fox wasn’t sharing a bed with him, at least he was there, he was close, and Sanyam could stand outside his door in the middle of the night and listen to him breathing if he needed the reassurance.

  He tried not to do that too often, though, because that was creepy and he didn’t want to scare Fox away.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  HE WAITED a while before he brought up the possibility of breath play again. Fox was up for nearly anything Sanyam suggested in the bedroom, possessed of a natural fearlessness of spirit and a love for pain that was an intoxicating combination, but breath play was different. It was dangerous, and Sanyam needed to know that Fox was fully informed before consenting.

  So he sat him down one day, about a month after they started having sex, and took his hand.

  “Are you interested in exploring oxygen deprivation further?”

  Fox’s eyes went wide and he licked his lips. “Yes.”

  “You need to understand exactly what it entails,” Sanyam said, rubbing a thumb over Fox’s knuckles. “It is one of the most dangerous kinks out there, kit. It could result in brain damage or death if either one of us makes a mistake. Do you hear what I’m saying? It is not something to embark on lightly.”

  “We’re not going to dive in headfirst and put a plastic bag over my head, right?” Fox said, pulling his hand away. “I mean, we’d take it slow.”

  “Of course,” Sanyam said. “And I’m not comfortable with you having anything over your head or restricting your airflow other than my hand, so that I can monitor you as closely as possible.”

  Fox shrugged. “Then what’s the big deal?”

  “The big deal is you could die,” Sanyam said.

  “Eh,” Fox said. “I’m not worried. Can we try it tonight?”

  “You terrify me,” Sanyam said, sitting back.

  Fox tilted his head and smiled at him. “Is that a yes?”

  “I wouldn’t want your arms to be bound this time,” Sanyam said. “That way you can physically signal if you need to stop.”

  Disappointment crossed Fox’s face, but he nodded.

  “I mean it,” Sanyam insisted. “You have to promise me right now that you will tap out if you need to.”

  “I promise,” Fox said. “Can I at least be blindfolded?”

  “Yes, kit,” Sanyam said. “You can be blindfolded. Go in your bedroom and get naked.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  STERLING HURRIED to obey, but Sanyam wouldn’t be rushed. Sterling stripped as Sanyam circled him, watching his every movement closely, but he didn’t touch him until Sterling was naked and had conquered his jitters, forcing himself to take a deep breath and settle on his heels as he clasped his hands behind his back.

  Only then did Sanyam step in close and draw a finger down Sterling’s bare chest. Sterling shivered at the contact and leaned forward, but Sanyam drew away.

  Sterling thumped back onto his heels, glaring, but Sanyam just smiled.

  “In due time, kit. Kneel.”

  Sterling went to the floor, fighting the tremors running through him, and Sanyam stepped over his legs behind him, so close Sterling could feel his body heat on his shoulders.

  He settled the silk blindfold in place and tied it snugly, his fingers gentle. Sterling sagged as his world went dark, tension draining from him like water out of soil.

  Sanyam caressed his jaw, sliding a finger down over Sterling’s dimple. “So good,” he murmured. “Keep your hands clasped behind your back. Don’t let go for any reason except to tap out.”

  Sterling tightened his grip and nodded.

  Sanyam moved away, warmth fading, and Sterling listened to his heartbeat thundering in his ears, straining for any sound.

  There was nothing but silence, and Sterling shifted his weight. Still nothing. He couldn’t see anything but the floor just in front of his knees, his chest and belly and half-hard cock, and he fought the desire to let go of his hands, to rip the blindfold off and see where Sanyam had gone, what he was doing.

  Sterling bit back a whine, tightening his grip on his wrist. Don’t leave me, San, please, I know I deserve it but—

  It felt like an eternity before a soft noise came from behind him, and Sterling just barely kept in the relieved whimper.

  “Look at you,” Sanyam murmured, footsteps drawing nearer and a warm hand running over the nape of Sterling’s neck. “So good for me.”

  I’m good, I can be so good, please, I’m good for you…. Sterling’s thoughts swirled, fragmenting and dissolving as he swayed toward the sound of Sanyam’s voice. He recognized the feeling of sub space now, the drifting of his awareness like being suspended in honey, movements slow and every sensation unbearably sweet.

  Sanyam’s hand settled around Sterling’s throat, thumb stroking his pulse, and squeezed, slow and steady.

  Sterling choked, and Sanyam eased off, but Sterling shook his head.

  “More.”

  Sanyam resettled his grip, took a deep breath, and squeezed again.

  Sterling’s mouth fell open and he labored for air, lungs heaving. Sparks danced across the backs of his eyelids, and he gripped his own wrist so tightly his bones ached, a distant pain that only served to send him spiraling farther down the slope into deep sub space.

  He was only dimly aware when Sanyam let go, lost in his head, but he opened his mouth dreamily at Sanyam’s urging and hummed when Sanyam fed him his cock.

  Sanyam pressed in deep until his shaft was buried in Sterling’s throat, soft curls tickling Sterling’s nose at the base of his cock.

  “Mastana,” Sanyam whispered. “You intoxicate me.”

  He pulled back and pumped in and out in slow, even thrusts, pinching Sterling’s nostrils shut with one hand.

  Sterling was drowning. The only air in his lungs was what he was able to draw in when Sanyam retreated. His head spun, and he’d lost feeling in his fingers and toes. He was a receptacle for Sanyam’s touch, a vessel to be filled, and he wanted nothing else. He was at peace, serenity settling over him like a silken mantle.

  Sanyam hissed through his teeth, losing his rhythm as his thrusts turned needy and desperate, and then salty, bitter liquid flooded Sterling’s throat.

  Sterling swallowed again and then again, eyes closed as Sanyam shuddered above him through the last of his orgasm and finally withdrew. He wiped the corner of Sterling’s mouth with his thumb, and Sterling dragged in sweet oxygen.

  Sanyam pulled the blindfold off and cupped his face. “How do you want to come, jaaneman?”

  Sterling blinked, unable to form words, Sanyam blurry in his vision. He’d been crying, he realized, but he couldn’t muster panic at that—he felt wonderful, swept clean and purified.

  Sanyam helped him up and to the bed, settling him on the mattress with careful hands before he straddled Sterling’s legs.

  “Lie back and enjoy this, kit,” he murmured and lowered his head.

  Wet heat engulfed Sterling’s cock, and he closed his eyes again as sensation rushed over him. It was no time at all before he stiffened, toes curling and lightning rippling across his nerves as he emptied soundlessly in Sanyam’s mouth.

  Sanyam took every bit, thumbs stroking small circles on Sterling’s thighs as he eased him through it with skillful touches.

  Finally he slid off and wiped his mouth. Sterling barely noticed him leaving the bed, still lost deep in his head, but he cooperated as best he could when Sanyam returned with a warm, wet cloth and cleaned, then dressed him.

  Cool sheets were pulled over his shoulders, and Sterling turned on his side, rubbing his cheek against the pillow.

  Sanyam touched his hair. “Sleep well, kit,” he whispered and left the room.

  Sterling frowned, fighting his way back to awareness. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t—he needed—

  He sat up, movements loose and uncoordinated,
and managed to make it to his feet, swaying dangerously. The floor was uneven beneath his feet, shifting treacherously as he tried to walk, and Sterling staggered and fell against the wall.

  “Fox?” Sanyam sounded worried. “Kamsin, what are you doing? You should be in bed!”

  Sterling grabbed his arm, and Sanyam steadied him.

  “Bed,” Sterling rasped.

  “Yes,” Sanyam said. He swung him up into his arms and turned to carry him back into Sterling’s bedroom.

  Sterling clung to him when Sanyam tried to put him down, though.

  “Your bed,” he managed. “You.”

  Sanyam froze. “You want—you want to sleep with me?”

  Sterling closed his eyes, burrowing into Sanyam’s warmth, and Sanyam took a shaky breath.

  “All right, meri jaan,” he whispered, and carried him back out, through the hall, and into his own bedroom.

  Sterling moaned happily when Sanyam put him down, and nestled into the pillows that smelled delightfully of vanilla and sandalwood.

  Sanyam crawled in behind him, pulling him close and dropping a kiss on the nape of his neck.

  “Now will you sleep?” he asked.

  “Mm-hmm,” Sterling said, and sank into the black.

  THEY DIDN’T talk about it. Sterling still flatly refused to discuss anything emotional, distracting Sanyam with hands and mouth and teeth whenever Sanyam tried, until he got the message.

  But after that scene, Sterling slept in Sanyam’s room, waking up as often as not tangled in Sanyam’s arms and legs, his nose buried in Sterling’s hair and his breathing steady and warm on Sterling’s neck.

  Sometimes Sterling would stare at the ceiling while Sanyam slept, fighting panic. Why are you doing this? He’ll see you for who you are soon enough. Why are you trying to convince yourself it’ll work? Besides, remember what he said? You’re not actually falling in love with him—it’s just because you’re subbing for him that you feel this way.

  Sterling always slipped out of bed when those thoughts came, curling up on the couch with Polly or taking a long, hot shower, arm braced on the glass as he tried not to listen to his brain.

  Often Sanyam would join him, slipping an arm around Sterling’s waist or kissing his wet shoulder, and Sterling would turn to face him, plastering on a smile as he wrapped his arms around Sanyam’s neck.

  NEARLY THREE months into his stay with Sanyam, Sterling was back at Granville Island with Cricket. She didn’t need him or Dorian there, but Sterling enjoyed her company more and more these days and found reasons to spend time with her when he wasn’t working.

  He was playing a game on his phone, tongue caught between his teeth in concentration, as Cricket spoke to a customer.

  “—My brother, Fox,” she said, and Sterling glanced up, startled, to see her gesturing at him.

  “What?”

  The man smiled at Sterling. He was in his sixties, silver-gray hair swept neatly off a high forehead, trim and compact, with a friendly face. “I’m Navin,” he said. “You made that mosaic?”

  Sterling nodded, glancing at the C that Cricket kept prominently displayed above her wares.

  “Do you have any other pieces?” Navin asked.

  “Not really,” Sterling admitted. “I was just fooling around.”

  “Well, if you do, I’d be very interested in displaying some of them in my gallery,” Navin said. He held out a business card. “My partner and I have been looking for some new talent. You have a bold eye for color and style that I think would sell well.”

  Sterling stared at him, lost for words, and Cricket took the business card.

  “The gallery is downtown,” Navin said. “You’re more than welcome to come by anytime.”

  Cricket met Sterling’s eyes as Navin walked away. “Fox,” she whispered. “Do you know who that is?”

  “He said his name was Navin,” Sterling said. “So?”

  “So, that’s Navin Arya,” Cricket hissed. “He and his partner run one of the top-rated art galleries in Vancouver, how do you not know who he is?”

  Sterling shrugged. “I don’t run in art circles, Cricky. How the hell would I know him?”

  Cricket rolled her eyes. “You should make some more mosaics, is what I’m saying. He can probably sell anything you make, and it would help your income, wouldn’t it?” She held out the card.

  “I guess,” Sterling said doubtfully, accepting it. “I’m just… not an artist.”

  “You make art,” Cricket said. Her tone brooked no argument. “That makes you an artist.”

  Sterling stared at the card and finally tucked it into his pocket. “I’ll think about it.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  THE NIGHT of Colby’s party, Sterling dashed around the apartment in a frenzy, hunting for his shoes.

  “I left them in the living room, didn’t I?” he shouted. “When you wanted to suck me off last night after work?”

  “I put them in your bedroom,” Sanyam called from the bathroom.

  “Right, of course,” Sterling muttered. He found them tucked neatly under the end of the bed and stepped into them, tying the laces carelessly. “Are you ready? We’re going to be late. Bus’ll be here any minute!”

  Sanyam stepped into the hall, looking dapper and elegant in a long-sleeved T-shirt so dark brown it was almost black. He smiled at Sterling as he pulled on his cabled sweater.

  “I like that shirt,” he said. “It’s the color of your eyes.”

  Sterling smoothed the front of the olive green silk T-shirt. “I wore it to the club once, didn’t I?”

  Sanyam’s smile widened. “Indeed you did. Are you ready?”

  Sterling grabbed Colby’s present and followed him out to the front door, where Sanyam picked up his own bag.

  “Bye, Polly!” Sanyam called. Sterling snickered, and they clattered down the stairs to the bus stop.

  Spring was fully underway, the trees blossoming with color and birds calling to each other in their branches. Sterling took a deep breath of cool salt-scented air, filling his lungs.

  On the bus, he leaned against Sanyam slightly. “I should warn you, Annaliese is… prickly.”

  “She was with Colby that night at the club, wasn’t she?” Sanyam said.

  Sterling nodded. “She’s never liked me. Feeling’s mutual, believe me. I think Colby can do better. She resents me for telling him that.”

  “You told him that?”

  Sterling hunched his shoulders. “It wasn’t personal. I just… he’s been my best friend for ten years. We met in high school, and he hung out at my house all the time growing up. I felt like Annaliese wasn’t right for him, and I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but I didn’t, and she’s never forgiven me.”

  Sanyam touched his knee. “Regardless of how you did it, your reasons were motivated by caring.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m just letting you know,” Sterling said.

  “Thank you,” Sanyam said gravely. He hefted the bag he’d brought. “Perhaps she’ll be appeased by the wine I brought.”

  Cricket opened the door for them. She flung her arms around them both in turn and then pulled them into the house, which smelled enticingly of fresh-baked bread and apple pie.

  Dorian and Tatum were on the sofa, arms around each other. Dorian scrambled up and hugged Sterling, who returned it, and then held out his hand to Sanyam.

  “I’m Dorian. We’ve never actually been introduced, but I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Sanyam took his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Dorian. Your brother speaks of you often.”

  “He does?” Dorian slanted a look at Sterling, who rolled his eyes.

  “He’s exaggerating for effect. I might have mentioned the troll that lived in our basement growing up. Maybe he inferred something from that. Hi, Tatum, still with this slob?”

  Tatum grinned and hugged him. Their nails were yellow, white, purple, and black, pairing perfectly with their black cargo pants and yellow shirt.

&nbs
p; “I like the polish,” Sterling said.

  Tatum held up a hand. “It’s the nonbinary pride colors.”

  Colby bounded in. “Break it up, break it up, you guys aren’t supposed to be having fun without me!”

  He engulfed Sterling in a hug and stood back to look him over.

  “Man, you look good! Introduce me to the guy responsible so I can give him a big ol’ kiss for taking such great care of you.”

  Sterling snorted and pulled Sanyam forward. “Sanyam, this is Colby. Colby, Sanyam. Do not kiss him or I’ll have to punch you.”

  Colby laughed, a deep belly laugh that vibrated his muscled frame, and shook Sanyam’s hand. “It’s great to finally meet you, dude. Thanks for looking out for my boy here.”

  “It’s been my pleasure,” Sanyam said. “Happy birthday, and thank you for inviting me to your celebration.”

  “Thanks!” Colby said. He accepted the gifts that Sterling and Sanyam handed to him and put them on the table behind him.

  Sanyam lifted the bottle of wine. “I brought something for dinner, as well.”

  “Liese!” Colby bellowed. “Guests!”

  “I’m here,” Annaliese snapped, coming out of the kitchen and drying her hands on a towel. “No need to bring the house down, Colby. Hello, Sterling.” She accepted the air-kiss he offered, turning her head away enough that he didn’t make contact, and held out her hand to Sanyam. “Thank you for coming.”

  Sanyam bowed over her hand. “Thank you for having us.”

  Annaliese was spoiling for a fight, Sterling realized with a sinking sensation. It showed in the way her blue eyes sparked, the set of her jaw, and the tension in her shoulders. Colby could see it too, from the uneasy looks he was giving her.

  Don’t do this, Sterling thought. Don’t ruin Colby’s night.

  “Gotta go check the steaks,” Colby said and disappeared out the back door.

  “Can I help you with anything?” Sanyam asked Annaliese.

  She gave him a dubious look but shrugged. “You can set the table.”