Against the Rules
Copyright © 2020 Isabel Lucero
All rights reserved.
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No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without prior written consent of the author except where permitted by law.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events depicted in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication and use of these trademarks are not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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If you have obtained a copy of this book without purchasing it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please delete the file and purchase a copy legally. This novel is for your enjoyment only and may not be resold or given to other people.
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Published by Isabel Lucero
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Cover Design by Robin Harper at Wicked by Design
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Formatting by Isabel Lucero
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Edited by Kay Springsteen
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
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Epilogue
Preview of On the Rocks
Also by Isabel Lucero
Acknowledgments
About the Author
1
“To the last weekend you have before school starts!” Royce says, raising a shot glass.
“To the last time you won’t be having to grade papers over a weekend!” Cill adds, holding his own glass.
“Fuck it. To just getting drunk and having fun,” Midge says, then tosses her head back and downs her drink.
I crack a grin then swallow the amber liquid Royce poured.
My brother Royce is working behind the bar at King’s Tavern—the place he owns. Between him and Cillian pestering me to come out with non-stop texts and phone calls, and then Cillian’s last-minute drop-in at my house, I caved and decided to have a good time.
Midge and London—Cillian and Royce’s girlfriends, joined the fun, but they’ve been coming to King’s Tavern on Saturdays for a while now, so it’s nothing new to them.
“All right, that’s only one shot for Elijah, and he hasn’t even finished his first drink yet. We need to get at least two more shots in him, or three more drinks,” Cill tells the group.
“Are you trying to get him drunk?” Midge asks.
“Uh, fuck yes! I can’t remember the last time I saw Elijah drunk. He’s always Mr. Responsible. You gotta let loose, man!” he says, shaking my shoulder.
I guess it has been a while since I’ve allowed myself to have more than one or two drinks, especially out in public.
I finish my drink and push it across the bar. “Fine, get me another.”
“Hey, Royce!” Cill yells, getting Royce’s attention.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, so I pull it out and check the screen. As soon as I see that it’s Lorraine, I slip it back into my pocket.
“Girlfriend?” Midge questions with a smirk.
“Not even close,” I reply with a small smile.
Lorraine was the last woman I slept with, and it’s been a couple months since then, so maybe tonight I’ll call up one of my go-tos, as I refer to them.
I get how that sounds, but I’m used to being a bachelor. After Jenn left me, I decided maybe a relationship just isn’t what I’m supposed to have. There’s tons of female staff at the college who are interested, so I have a good selection of women I go to when I’m needing some physical attention.
They understand what it is. Well, most of them. There have been a couple who’ve tried escalating things into a relationship, but I don’t feel passionate about them in that way. A night together is good for me. Maybe another night or two down the line, but that’s about it.
Some women are fine with the no-strings-attached thing, but Lorraine, for example, is one who keeps trying for more.
“Hey, there’s a chick who keeps staring at you,” Cill says, coming behind me and draping his tattooed covered arm over my shoulder. “She’s by herself at the other end.”
I glance down the length of the bar and spot her instantly. She stands out against the crowd. Her thick, curly hair flows past her shoulders. Her full lips shine from whatever gloss she coated them with, garnering my attention. She’s wearing an olive-green T-shirt that looks amazing against her mocha colored skin, but there’s an innocence in her face that keeps me from heading straight to her.
“Dude,” Cill deadpans. “You’re seriously not gonna go over there?”
“You wanted tonight to be about getting drunk, and I agreed to come out. I didn’t agree for you to play cupid.”
Midge walks up. “Who are we talking about?”
“Your boyfriend is trying to play matchmaker in a bar.”
She laughs, looking up at Cill who just shrugs. “Who’s the girl?”
Cill tells her who it is, and Midge does her best to glance in that direction without being obvious. “Oh, she’s cute!”
“She’s been staring at him for like thirty minutes,” Cill adds.
She shrugs and changes the subject. “Let’s get another shot.”
Now that I know she’s there, my eyes keep traveling in her direction. She catches me and gives me a tiny little smile as she pushes her hair behind her shoulder and leans forward, resting her arms on the bar.
I get a small glimpse into the ample cleavage she has, and my cock twitches when she bites down on the side of her bottom lip.
After I swallow down the shot Midge ordered for all of us, I start thinking it might not be such a bad idea to venture out of my go-tos.
Royce makes his way back to our end of the bar and everyone starts talking about the concert coming up in a couple weeks. Our baby brother, Merrick, along with his band, The Unwanted, are playing in Cleveland, and he got us backstage passes.
But I zone them all out when I notice a man approaching the woman I can’t keep my eyes off. He pushes his way between her and the occupied s
eat next to her, invading everybody’s space.
She backs up and gives him a nervous smile as he lays out some sort of cheesy line, I’m sure. The guy in the stool pushes him which knocks him into her, and his drink sloshes out of the glass, landing on her and the bar.
I’m out of my seat before I can question why, and making my way over to her.
“You okay?” I ask.
She nods, then reaches for a napkin to wipe the liquid from her chest. “At least it was clear, right?” she says with a soft chuckle.
I give her a smile, then look for my brother. “Royce!” I put my hand up. “Napkins?”
Royce rushes over with a handful of napkins, then takes out his rag and cleans up the bar. The guy who came to hit on her has taken her seat, and not even bothered to apologize.
“Thanks,” she says, after I hand her the napkins.
“Looks like he stole your seat,” I tell her. “I can have him move if you want it back.”
She shakes her head. “Probably not worth the drama. I can sit at this table back here,” she says, pointing to an empty booth.
I come up next to the seat thief and grab the new drink Royce replaced already. “Are you not going to apologize to the woman?” I ask.
He looks up at me, his eyes red and glassy. “What?”
I eye Royce, who’s still wiping up the mess and decide I don’t want to cause a scene in his bar.
“Just watch yourself,” I tell him, taking the glass and handing it to the woman who’s still pressing napkins to her shirt.
She walks to the booth, and I stand nearby, wondering if I should stick around or not.
“You can join me,” she says softly. “I’m not here with anyone.”
I slide into the seat across from her. “You new here?”
“Yep. Is it that obvious?”
I grin. “It’s a small town. I’d have remembered seeing you before.”
She blushes, her lips drawing up into a smile. “Oh. Yeah, I haven’t been here long.”
Cillian saunters over and puts my drink on the table. “Thought you might want this,” he says, giving me a wink before he walks away.
“My brother,” I tell her.
“Ah,” she says, lifting her chin up.
“What’s your name?”
“Nova. What’s yours?”
“Elijah.”
“Elijah,” she repeats. “I like that name.”
“I like the way it sounds coming out of your mouth.”
She blushes again then takes a sip of her drink.
We spend the next hour drinking and talking about inconsequential things.
“Where’s the best place to eat in this town?” she asks.
“Besides my house?”
She grins, then bites down on her lip. “Do you make breakfast?” Mischief twinkles in her eyes, and I know instantly what she’s getting at.
“Yes, I can make breakfast.”
“Can I find good entertainment at your house, too?”
I lean forward and swipe my tongue across my bottom lip. “Entertainment is my specialty.”
She finishes her drink, and I gulp down the rest of mine. When I stand up, I reach for her hand and help her out of her seat.
The tight black jeans she has on showcase her slim waist, wide hips, and thick thighs. The shirt she’s wearing fits her like a glove and rides up a bit, showing off her flawless skin. The pair of heels she’s wearing give her a few more inches but still leaves her several inches shorter than my six-foot frame.
I leave her near the door and go back to the bar to pay for the drinks. As I’m waiting for Royce, I remove my phone from my pocket and order a Lyft. “I’m leaving,” I tell the group. “Thanks for inviting me out.”
Cillian gives me a shit-eating grin. “Yeah, you’re fucking welcome.”
When it starts taking too long before any of the bartenders becomes free, I hand my money to Cill and tell him to pay for me.
Once I get back to Nova, we step outside and don’t have to wait more than a minute before the Lyft arrives.
Ten minutes later, we pull up to my house.
2
Once inside, I finally do what I’ve been wanting to do since Cillian pointed her out to me. I step forward and pull her body in to me, planting my lips on hers.
She moans into my mouth as our tongues dance together, both of us tasting of liquor. Her free hand rests on my back, pushing me into her as I cradle her head in one hand while the other one rests on her hip.
I step back, ready to get to the bed, and escort her up the stairs and into my room. She steps out of her heels and places her wallet and phone on my dresser, then comes toward me as I’m taking off my shirt.
Her palms rest on my chest before trailing down my stomach, then come to a stop at the waist of my jeans. She pops the button open and unzips the zipper.
I lean down, angling my head to capture her mouth once again. Her hand slides into my boxer briefs and grabs my growing erection.
My groan mixes with her moan, then we’re both frantically trying to rid ourselves of our clothes.
Our lips and tongues come together in a desperate frenzy. We may not be completely drunk, but the alcohol is fueling and heightening the sexual desire. We’re drunk on endorphins. Our hands explore every part of the other person while our mouths barely disconnect. We topple onto the mattress, and I reach into my night table for a condom.
After sheathing myself, I don’t waste any time. As much as I usually enjoy taking the time to tease and please, my desperation to bury myself inside of her is too high.
I sink into her, and her tight, wet heat envelopes me. “Christ,” I groan.
“Oh, God!” she cries, her nails digging into my back.
I thrust into her, slow at first, then quicken my pace and pound into her harder. She responds with sinful moans, loud gasps, and chants filled with four letter words.
I flip us over, allowing her to ride me, and giving myself a better view of her generous breasts as they bounce with her every movement.
Soon, her body tenses and her fingers squeeze my biceps as she shouts, “I’m coming!”
I lift my hips, getting deeper inside of her as she grinds on top of me. Once her movements slow, and her pussy stops clenching, I flip us back over and then raise her legs over my shoulders and dive deep inside her.
With a glance down between us, I watch as my cock plunges in and out, evidence of her arousal glistens on her inner thigh.
It doesn’t take long before I reach that blissful moment, coming with a few loud grunts and groans as she spurs me on with chants of yes, yes, oh God, yes!”
Almost immediately after we’ve separated, Nova gets up and puts her clothes back on. She peeks over her shoulder at me. “Rain check for breakfast?”
I grin, somewhat relieved. Very few people have stayed the night. “Sure.”
“Can you get me a Lyft back to the bar? That’s where my car is.”
“Of course.”
Once out of bed, I throw on a pair of pants and grab my phone to get the Lyft. We both use the bathroom before heading downstairs to wait.
“Well, I’m glad you came to talk to me tonight,” she says.
With a smile, I say, “Welcome to Gaspar.”
She barks out a laugh. “That’s quite the welcome party.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t throw them for every newcomer.”
She ducks her head, grinning. “I don’t normally attend parties like that either. I’ve had quite the few days. Weeks. Well, if I’m being honest,” she says, looking me in the eye, “I’ve had a rough time for a while, so thanks for the pick-me-up.”
Suddenly, I’m interested to hear more. I want to know the things she’s gone through. I want to help her. As I’m about to ask more questions, headlights flash through the front window.
“Your ride’s here.”
When we get to the door, I pull it open, and then there’s a few seconds where time stands still and we bo
th study each other. My eyes are drawn to her lips, and as much as I want to lean in for another kiss, I don’t.
She seems to take my cue, gives me a small smile, then walks away.
Before I go to sleep, I check my phone and see a message from Cill.
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Cill: Don’t kick this one out before dawn. Give someone a chance before you end up eighty and alone.
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With a sigh, I plug the phone into the charger and go to sleep.
3
The first day of school is always hectic. Actually, the first two weeks can be bothersome. A lot of students get lost and show up late. And then there are the ones who transfer late, so the class I have on the first day isn’t always the same class I have at the end of the week.
Today, they come in loud and boisterous, talking and laughing about what happened last weekend. They’re not bogged down with stress or fears about passing their classes. It’s early for that yet.
At eight o’clock, I stand in front of the half chalkboard half whiteboard in front of the class and face the students. “All right, all right,” I say, waiting for them to quiet down. “I’m Professor Kingston and you’re in Calculus One. If you’re able to successfully complete this course, you will understand and be able to apply the ideas of integral and differential calculus to problems involving instantaneous rates of change, areas bounded by curves, properties of curves, and motions of accelerated bodies. Fun, right?” I ask the sea of mostly confused faces.
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