Breaking the Rules: The Breaking Series #1 Read online

  Work called, for now.

  The questions had no answers. But the quiet thrum of intuition led her down this path, a steady hand over hers, guiding her deeper into the delicious unknown.

  Chapter 10

  “Why are you hovering so much today?” Jenni, the weeknight receptionist, cast him a sharp look. “I feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

  “You’re not.” He drummed his hands on the countertop, pretending to check out the schedule, then realized the peering was still the source of the problem. He just couldn’t find anything else to do while he waited for Amara to show up. He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m keyed up. It’s a good Monday.”

  “That means you have to watch my every move?” Jenni’s face held amusement, clicking to a new screen on the computer.

  “Hey, I’m the boss.” He snatched up a pencil, jabbing the eraser into her armpit. “Maybe this is your yearly review.”

  She laughed, replacing the pencil in its container. “I don’t buy it. You’re waiting for someone.”

  “Am I?” He couldn’t keep his gaze from sliding to the front doors every five seconds. He was embarrassingly transparent.

  “You’re not usually so hover-y when you’re waiting for Eddie. And it seems like you sure are excited for whoever is about to walk through that door.”

  He scoffed, shuffling through some papers in a file folder. Feigning interest in last month’s membership report, he counted the seconds before he responded. “I’m too busy for this conversation.”

  Jenni laughed sharply. “You’re no good at this.”

  He tossed the papers aside. “Fine. Think whatever you want. I’m just excited for…something that’s happening tonight.”

  Jenni lifted a brow. “What’s happening tonight?”

  “None of your business.”

  The phone rang—salvation. Travis paced while Jenni murmured their operating hours into the phone. It was six o’clock already; Amara said she’d be here no later than now. He could have gnawed through a rope at this point, desperate to see her walk through those doors and get her into his arms again.

  He didn’t know how or where anything would happen. But it had to, and fast. Even if all they did was neck, he needed to drink her in.

  A car drove past the front door, and he cleared his throat, hoping it would finally be Amara. He’d only been waiting since their last kiss the day before.

  The front door opened, and her breathtaking figure glided in—dark, trim slacks, a tight button-up tucked in, trendy dark sunglasses pushed back on her head. The world slowed to focus only on her as she strode nearer, a knowing smile on her face.

  Jenni tutted at his side. “So she’s happening tonight, huh?”

  He shot her a dirty look. “Shut up. She’s a client.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  He and Amara didn’t break eye contact as she came up to the desk, both grinning like fools. When she placed her hand on the countertop, he snapped back to reality.

  “Hey there.” He nodded, feeling Jenni’s smug gaze burning through him. “How you doing today?”

  “Pretty good.” She shrugged. They’d been texting all day; he knew exactly how she was doing.

  “Wanna work out?”

  “Yeah, I thought I might.” She had a shit-eating grin. The unspoken words between them were so thick, he thought the air might sag.

  “Sweet. Follow me.” He nodded toward the back hallway, eager to get her out of Jenni’s hearing range. When they were around the corner, he grabbed her hand. Her eyes lit up.

  “Wanna see my office?”

  She giggled. “More than anything.”

  This was the only game plan he’d come up with—lock them inside his office for as long as it took to get a little bit of this tension out of their system.

  He dropped her hand before leading her through the small maze of offices and break rooms, nodding at some trainers huddled together in the planning room. This was a bold move, but already he didn’t care, not with hot desire thrumming through him. He brought back people to his office so rarely that Amara might as well be the president.

  He pushed open the white door leading to his office, gesturing for her to enter first. She strutted past, the scent of her hair wafting toward him. Inside, she peered around, delight in her eyes, setting her purse and gym bag down on the chair.

  Clicking the door shut behind him, he looked her up and down.

  “You like it?”

  She nodded. The fuck-me eyes were back. “Bigger than I imagined.” She lifted a brow.

  He backed her up against his desk. She inhaled sharply as their faces grew nearer. The pretty flecks of green and tawny in her eyes were like looking into a magic ball. He could stay here for days and want more.

  “I want to pick up where we left off yesterday.”

  He slid his hands over her waist, and her eyes fluttered shut. She nodded, tilting her head back to look at him. “Kiss me.”

  He dipped down, covering her mouth with his, the fragrant scent of vanilla and soap mingling and exploding inside him, urging him deeper into the rabbit hole. Their kisses were fervent and noisy, like they both might wither and die if they stopped. He brought a hand to her neck, tracing the line there, then knotted his fingers at her hairline. He nudged her onto his desk. She slid back, eyes clouded and lips kiss-bitten, which made him lose it.

  He traced the curves of her body through her work shirt, desperate to get underneath and see for himself. But he stilled himself, untucking the hem of her shirt with a reverent slowness. She hooked a leg around him, bringing their bodies closer, intensifying the heat.

  “I’ve been waiting for this all day,” she murmured, dragging her fingertips over the contours of his arms. “Travis, I feel like I’m going crazy.”

  He laughed softly, unbuttoning her shirt with trembling fingers. “Me too. To all of it.” He sucked in a breath when he saw the creases of her brown belly as he unbuttoned higher and higher. She arched her back toward him when the last button came undone; the shirt fell away to reveal a silken pink bra. He met her gaze, measuring his breaths to keep control. He was a second away from snapping.

  “Touch me,” she begged, her voice a pretty purr, one that he wouldn’t mind hearing over and over again for as long as she’d allow.

  He slid his hand into the open shirt, over the sharp dip of her waist, the heat sliding off her in waves that made his whole body tense. Her skin was smooth, as silky as the bra, and he brought his lips to her collarbone, drinking her in, following the lush curve from chest to breast. He dragged his tongue over her cleavage, and she shuddered beneath him, arching closer.

  “Can I take it off?” His breath came out hot over her covered nipples, the two taut points beneath the fabric a beacon. He grazed his lips over each nipple; she laughed throatily, eyes half-closed.

  “Please.”

  He made quick work of the clasp, and the silken cage loosened. He pushed her shirt over her shoulders and down her arms, then slipped off each strap, her breaths low and shaky as he undressed her.

  “Come on, Trav.” Her voice was almost a whimper; she nuzzled his chest. “I need it.”

  She needed it as much as he did. And if this was the case, they were both in trouble. He ran his thumbs over the tight points of her nipples and then slid the bra down, revealing heavy, lush tits. He growled and dipped down to capture a nipple in his mouth. She gasped and knotted her fingers in his hair as he lavished attention on each one. The second leg swung around his body, trapping him there, the most delicious prison.

  “I wanna eat you up,” he murmured. Grabbing handfuls of her ass, he stood, grinding his groin against her spread legs. Her breath hitched, and he knew right where this was going. God help him, he’d fuck her on his desk every day until the end of time if that’s all they had to work with.

  “Everywhere?”

  He moaned low, crushing his lips against hers. “Everywhere. I hope that’s an invitation.” He snagged her bottom li
p between his teeth, sucking gently before releasing it. When they parted, she looked drugged.

  “So can I take these off?” He tugged at her work pants, lifting a brow.

  “You can’t be real,” she breathed as he buried his face in her cleavage again. “You’re too good.”

  He laughed. “What do you mean?”

  “You kiss like a fucking god. You want to eat me out first thing and haven’t even asked me to suck your dick beforehand. You’re a fighter who’s also a businessman, and basically a model…” She shook her head, eyes searching his face like she could find the answer written there somewhere. “Your dick has to be tiny, right? That’s it. That’s the catch.”

  His grin stretched ear to ear. He pressed his cock hard against her, rubbing it in a slow circle. “Wanna see?”

  “Yes.”

  She was in for a surprise if that’s what she thought the catch was. He reached for his belt buckle, but she grabbed his hand. “Wait. Take off your shirt first.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  He tugged his T-shirt over his head, and then dropped it onto the floor beside her bra. She bit her lip, smoothing her hands over his pecs, his abs, tugging at the tiny hairs on his breastbone.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long,” she said, glancing up at him shyly.

  He opened his mouth to respond, but a knock sounded on the door. She gasped, pulling him closer, fear in her eyes as she watched him for a response.

  “Fuck.” He’d locked the door, so there was no threat of anyone coming in, but talk about bad timing. He turned to shout toward the door. “Who is it?”

  “Boss, I need your office for a little bit.” It was Geo, one of the other trainers. “It’s the cert paperwork. Due by nine.”

  He let the breath he’d been holding slide out of him. Required reporting to the state, and he’d totally forgotten about Geo’s deadline. The test was long enough to require concentration, and of course his office was the perfect spot. He rested his forehead against hers, mulling over a response.

  “Give me five.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  Once a few moments had passed, Travis appraised Amara, feeling both torn and ravenous. The sweet slope of her breasts was a distraction. He let his thumb graze over her nipples, following the curve to her rib cage. She looked deflated, tracing her fingertips over his abs.

  “Guess it’s time to work out now, huh?” She cracked a grin.

  “For now.” He cupped her cheek, snagging her lips in a kiss. “I want you to myself later.”

  “Mmm.” She returned his kiss, finding his tongue with her own. “I’m all yours.”

  He squeezed her thighs, sad to think he’d been only moments away from the prize. “You kill me.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  He pressed his mouth against hers, the scent of her making him dizzy. These were bad signs he wouldn’t be able to keep himself off her, no matter how messy the turnout with Eddie would be. “The best.”

  They shared one last, long kiss. Then Amara made quick work of hooking her bra.

  He slid his hands over the warm curve of her waist as she buttoned up her shirt. “How do you expect me to be able to concentrate on anything else tonight?”

  She giggled, sliding to her feet. “You’ll have to make do. We both will.”

  When she was ready to go, he opened the door. Geo stood on the other side, eyes wide.

  “It’s all yours.” Travis breezed past him, positive this would raise eyebrows but unable to care since he’d been yanked away from the one truly delicious woman to cross his path in too many years. Out in the hallway, he gently pushed on Amara’s hips toward the locker room.

  “Go get ready.” He winked. “I’ll be waiting.”

  Cheeks flushed, she waved her fingers at him and disappeared into the women’s locker room.

  The woman would bring him to his knees…undo every last ounce of his resolve.

  And there wasn’t anything else in the world that he wanted more.

  * * *

  Working out with Travis was the best of all worlds. Not only was he skilled and trained as a coach, he made her laugh while pushing her limits. And part of her loved that he was at her side almost exclusively while all the other women watched with heavy gazes as they progressed through their workout.

  It made tingles erupt over her entire body. Travis was addictive. He was clean and pure and sweet and firm. She wanted more of him, all the time. Even when he was beside her, grinning at her, poking her in the small of her back as they moved to a different machine. Give me more of this guy.

  The thought wandered through her head like a tourist. If Travis were some guy she’d met on Tinder—or at work, or downtown at the library—she’d be scrambling to see him all the time. Day dates, weekend dates, trips to the library, meeting the friends. The thought jarred something loose, a fear that popped like a blister and oozed all over, staining her excitement.

  This will go nowhere.

  Because it couldn’t. Not with Eddie, but more importantly, not with Travis’s lifestyle: the fighting, the violence, and the glorification of masculinity. By the end of their workout, Amara felt weak and jittery, though she didn’t know if it was due to sexual tension or the true effectiveness of her workout. Travis leaned against the bench press, scrolling through his phone, as Amara tightened her shoe laces.

  “Whatcha doing tonight?”

  She fought a grin. He was chomping at the bit too. “Dinner. With the family.”

  “Can I convince you not to go?”

  “Eddie would flip.”

  Travis looked deflated. “And what about dessert? You got anything planned?”

  She laughed, looking him up and down. His persistence was admirable. “Mostly bed. But it sounds like you have ideas.”

  He cocked a grin. “Plenty of ’em.”

  Heat flooded her. It shouldn’t be legal for him to look at women like that. It was dangerous. “Let’s try some of them out tomorrow.” She lifted a brow. “I’ll come here after dinner. So we have more time.”

  He followed her out of the weight room, giving high fives to a couple of guys as he walked by. At the back hallway leading toward the women’s locker room, she turned to him, lips curled upward.

  “You gonna follow me in here too?”

  “I would if I could.” He stepped closer. “Go change. I’m gonna get out of here. If I look at you a second longer without touching you, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

  His words spread like fire through her. “That sounds serious.”

  “Trust me, it is.” He nipped at her waist, pulling her closer. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Their lips brushed tenderly, and then he dived in for a sloppy tongue-kiss. When they parted, she braced herself against the wall. “Jesus. You’re right. Get the fuck out of here before we do something indecent.”

  He squeezed her hip. “We’ll talk later.”

  She jerked her head in a nod, watching his sturdy, square frame head back down the hall toward the front of the building, his gait measured and confident.

  As she pushed into the locker room, his words swirled inside her head. She was caught in the throes of the tornado he’d created.

  * * *

  Later that night, once dinner was digesting and all were resting comfortably in front of the TV, Amara’s phone buzzed with a new text.

  Neither Eddie nor Mama stirred at the buzz. Their favorite series was on, and it was stronger than a drug for those two. Amara hung around mostly for the family time and the occasional interesting plot point.

  She swiped her phone on. Travis had written. Can you talk?

  Staring at the TV, she counted down in her head before responding, swallowing her immediate urge to leap to her feet and run into her bedroom.

  Sure. She squashed the surge of excitement. Had to play it cool. No fangirling or squeals allowed during the tense scene, which continued to enthrall her mother and brother.

  Her p
hone buzzed with an incoming call, and the ringer sounded—one of her classic favorites from her childhood, “Achy Breaky Heart.” The name T Holt showed on the screen. Panic leaped to her throat, and she watched the words with disbelief. He wanted to actually talk to her?

  Eddie shushed her, his eyes never leaving the screen. “Turn that dumb ringer off.”

  She swallowed, silencing the phone. Though her mama would be pleased. If only she could share it with her. Eddie sucked at his teeth, crossing an ankle over his knee. Thoroughly engrossed once more.

  She stood and walked casually to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. “Hello?”

  “Hey. How are you?”

  Relief spread through her. Fuck, it was so nice to hear his voice. Especially after thinking about him nonstop since leaving the gym. “Good. Surprised. I didn’t realize you wanted to actually call.”

  “I wanted to hear your voice.”

  “I can’t complain about that.” She eased onto the bed; an evening with his soft tenor in her ear was better than the alternative. “I was watching some TV with Eddie and Mama.”

  “Shit. Did I interrupt?”

  “I told you I could talk, remember?” She stretched out, happiness flooding her. “I’m not that into the show anyway. I’d much rather listen to you.”

  “I wish I could see you.”

  “Same here. Don’t you have some sort of secret loft we can escape to?”

  “I’ve got all the secret spaces you want. You just have to escape first.”

  She laughed. “Fair enough.”

  “If you showed up at my door right now, I’d let you in.”

  “I hope so.” Her cheeks hurt from grinning so much. Every word out of his mouth ignited her. “But that’s all you’d do?”

  “Please. That’s step one.”

  “How many steps are in the plan?”

  He hummed. “About a thousand.”

  “Damn, that’s intense. It’ll take forever.”

  “That’s fine by me.” The connection rustled, like he was adjusting the phone. “You’re the kind of girl I want to spend a lot of time on.”