Page 27 of No Rules

“Then beg for it.”

David’s chest heaved with each labored breath, the submissive’s desperate pleas filling the room in an erotic symphony.

“Good boy,” Jesse praised, finally granting David the release he craved. Theslap slapof skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by David’s choked cries of pleasure.

“Shit,” Ryan whispered, his entire body thrumming with need. He’d love to keep watching, but the heat pooling in his gut demanded his attention. He had to find someone—anyone—to extinguish the fire.

Alex. He needed to find Alex. That would take care of his boredom and his horniness. Ryan tore himself away from the voyeuristic scene and stalked through the house, intent on finding his temporary salvation.

He took the stairs two at a time, rounded the corner, and headed into the hallway where Alex’s bedroom was. The muffled crack of leather meeting flesh halted him. He recognized that sound, but who was getting a whipping?

He followed the noise and came to another partially open door, the unmistakable sound of a man’s moans spilling into the hallway. God, he loved living here with this bunch of perverted fuckers.

Ryan peered inside. Lowell stood tall over Jonah, who was bent over the king-size bed. Lowell sliced the crop through the air with expert precision, landing on Jonah’s ass, which bore the marks of previous strikes. Jonah gripped fistfuls of the comforter, his knuckles turning white as he braced himself for each blow.

“Take it like the good boy you are,” Lowell commanded.

“Y-yes, Sir.” Jonah gasped, his body trembling.

Lowell delivered another sharp strike, eliciting a strangled cry from Jonah. The powerful urge to join them, to dominate Jonah and quench his thirst for control, burned hot within Ryan.

“Ready for me?” Lowell discarded the crop and unbuckled his belt. Jonah nodded, anticipation shining in his eyes. Lowell moved behind him, aligning their bodies, and pushed in with a single, slow thrust.

“Ah, fuck, yes!” Jonah cried out, his raw pleasure evident.

“Such a tight, greedy ass you have,” Lowell praised, setting a punishing pace that left both men breathless and sweat slicked.

Jesus, was everyone fucking someone today? The restless energy coursing through Ryan demanded an outlet, and only Alex would do. Sure, Caleb would be more than willing to help him find release, but Alex haunted his thoughts—the way he responded, the always-present hunger in his eyes.

He’d better find him before someone else did. With a sense of urgency, Ryan strode through the hallway, his footsteps echoing off the walls. As he neared Alex’s room, faint music drifted toward him, a sweet, lilting melody that sounded…live? Wait, was Alex playing an instrument? A guitar? No, a ukulele. And yes, he was playing one, and now he was singing as well, some song Ryan didn’t recognize and wasn’t English.

Ryan pushed the door open enough to get a glimpse of Alex. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his fingers moving gracefully over the strings of a well-worn ukulele. He sang with his eyes closed, lost in the music, and Ryan almost felt like an intruder, witnessing something private. Alex’s voice carried a deep emotion that resonated within him, stirring up feelings he didn’t want to acknowledge. The sight of him, bathed in soft light and completely caught in his music, made Ryan’s chest tighten.

He took a deep breath and steeled himself, shoving those unexpected feelings into the depths of his psyche where they belonged. He should leave, but instead, he leaned against the doorframe and watched. There was something mesmerizing about seeing Alex so engrossed in his music. It made Ryan forget about his earlier restlessness, the peacefulness of it soothing his raw emotions.

As Alex sang, Ryan was drawn in further, his body responding to the raw sincerity in Alex’s voice. Deep inside him, the pull of emotions threatened to unravel the carefully constructed walls around his heart. As if every note was stripping away another layer of his defenses, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

He should leave. He should walk away before it got to him even more. But he couldn’t look away, caught in the spell woven by Alex’s voice and the haunting melody. The music washed over him and ignited a spark deep within. For the first time in a long while, he felt alive—truly alive. He hadn’t felt this way since…since Quinton had died. Jesus, what was happening here?

The final note hung in the air, and it was as if time itself had paused. Alex’s fingers stilled on the ukulele, seemingly savoring the moment. With a soft exhale, he opened his eyes.

“Crap,” Alex muttered, his cheeks flushing as he lowered the instrument to his lap. “How long have you been standing there?”

Ryan folded his arms across his chest. “Long enough to know you’re damn good. I didn’t know you played.”

“Thanks.” Alex glanced down at the ukulele, strumming an idle chord. “It’s something I picked up while living in Hawaii.”

Ryan crossed the room and sat in a reading chair opposite Alex. He met those kind, blue eyes and tried to ignore how they seemed to see right through him. “What was it like there?”

He had no trouble picturing a young Alex running around on the beach, all golden skin and sun-bleached hair.

“Amazing.” Alex’s face lit up. “I lived there during my dad’s last military assignment. The people were so welcoming, and the culture… I connected with it in a way I never expected. It felt like coming home.”

Ryan frowned. “How come?”

“Their philosophy on life spoke to me. Like, there’s this thing calledAloha Spirit. Aloha means hello or goodbye, but it’s much more than a greeting. It’s a way of life. It means kindness, harmony, and living with empathy and understanding. People genuinely care about each other on the islands. It’s not just an act.”

“Sounds too good to be true,” Ryan said.

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