Breaking the Habit: The Breaking Series #4 Read online

  “Obviously.” Levi smirked, pointing at his abs.

  She sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Sure, he had a point. But why did he have to be so blatant about it?

  “I was kidding,” Levi said again. “I meant obviously because you’re taking the pictures. You’re a professional.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure.” Riley clucked her tongue, bringing the camera back up to her face. God forbid she ever need to see this man outside of a professional context. They’d probably end up fist fighting, or worse—fucking. She didn’t need either of those in her life.

  “He’s not as big of a dick as he sounds.” Travis piped up from the other side of the studio, where he inspected a three-panel set of photographs from a shoot she’d done in India.

  “Thanks for the ringing endorsement.” Levi grimaced with a thumbs-up.

  “I have no opinion,” Riley said, lining up another shot. The camera clicked a few times as she captured Levi’s gaze wandering across the studio. Every damn thing the man did played well with the lens. Her heart needed to ignore it as much as her career needed to capitalize on it. “I’m just a photographer.”

  “I need a photographer in my life,” Levi said, propping his hands on his hips. Riley bit her tongue against a snarky response. “I need someone to do a nude shoot for me.”

  Lex cackled from the front windows.

  “You wanna take the pictures?” Levi asked, his eyes sparkling with the idea. She snapped a few more pictures, immortalizing the moments after he’d voiced the salacious idea. And yes—she wanted to accept. For all the wrong reasons. Maybe just so she could confirm the exact dimensions of that bulge in those skintight shorts. But her morals—her dignity, dammit—wouldn’t let her.

  “Depends on the price, I guess,” she murmured, though it was a lie.

  “But I need you to leak ’em to the press afterward,” Levi said.

  He couldn’t hear the record screech inside her. The way every muscle of her body went rigid at the sound of the words leak to the press. She lowered the camera, her eyes narrowing to slits.

  So the guy got worse—not only was he starving for female attention, he was a fame whore.

  He lifted a brow, his smile so cocky she could have slapped him. “You in?”

  Chapter 2

  “Dude, like anyone is gonna pay money to see your junk,” Cobra chided from across the studio.

  Levi stretched out while Riley fiddled with some settings on a studio light. It was hard to keep his eyes off her. She made it more than clear that she wasn’t impressed by him or his body…which only made him try harder.

  How could she resist him? No woman in her right mind would. And after laying eyes on this artistic dark angel, his only goal was to convince her to take a walk on the Levi side.

  “Plenty of people would pay for a scandalous expose, if you work it right,” Levi shot back. Riley still hadn’t answered, but her flushed cheeks told him she was thinking about it.

  “Nudity isn’t a scandal in LA, bro,” Lex countered. “I don’t know what it’s like in Chicago where you’re from, but out here, being naked is a currency.”

  “Plus, it won’t be a scandal if you’re offering it freely,” Riley spoke up, swiping through the screens on her huge camera. Her mahogany bangs, cut straight across her forehead, contrasted nicely with the creamy hue of her skin. Full red lips snagged his attention whenever she spoke. Her slouchy T-shirt said TRENDY AF, which he was dying to tease her about. Paired with her short jeans shorts and combat boots, Riley looked like the star of a snarky coming-of-age drama.

  Except way hotter.

  “You never answered my question,” Levi said, daring her to meet his gaze. He rubbed at his bicep, trying to make her notice it.

  She looked up at him, sarcasm written across her face. “Oh, I’m sorry, you actually meant to ask me that? I thought you were being a little twat.”

  Travis and the guys burst into laughter. Levi rolled his head around in a slow circle, not failing to miss the satisfied smirk on Riley’s face.

  Yeah, she was a fun one. She’d probably be even more fun in bed.

  And that’s what Levi needed more of in his life. No strings attached fun. He had plenty of stress in his life, and the best way to achieve that work-life balance was with lots of sex on the weekends. With the matchups about to begin and all the stress of moving west with his little brother in tow…he counted on his wild weekends where he could cut the hell loose.

  Getting drunk and getting into trouble was his vice of choice. He’d been doing his best to break in Los Angeles. See what sort of questionable decisions he could make. How much of a ruckus he could cause.

  “I’ve never had someone call me a twat before,” he murmured appreciatively.

  “That’s our Ry-Ry,” Lex called out.

  “Maybe it’s a little too nineties,” she teased, bringing the camera back up to her face. She snapped a few pictures, inspected the camera’s viewing screen, then nodded. “I’m open to reviewing my insult du jour, if necessary.”

  “So that’s a no, then?” Levi asked, unwilling to drop it like she so clearly wanted. He could see her glaring behind the camera.

  “That’s a hard no, actually. I’m interested in building my career, not flushing it down the drain.”

  “Daamn, Riley,” Cobra said quietly from the corner.

  “Sounds like a no,” Travis added. “Did I warn you about Levi, Riley?”

  “That would be a negative.” Riley peered at him over the top of her camera. “Drape your arm behind your head.”

  “I don’t need to be warned about.” Levi did as he was told, and Riley snapped more pictures.

  “Your dad jokes should come with a warning,” Cobra cracked, snapping his fingers.

  Levi held in the laughter that wanted to pop out. Just a few months in LA, and already this crew was becoming his family. He’d trained with plenty of MMA pros before, but he’d found a home in Holt Body Fitness that he hadn’t counted on.

  Didn’t hurt, either, since Levi was one brother shy of being an orphan. He needed all the family he could get.

  “I don’t really want to hear about your jealousy right now, guys,” Levi said, feigning displeasure. “I’m busy, okay? Besides, if you really wanted to talk shit about my jokes, then you’d have a photography joke ready, right now.”

  “I don’t know any jokes about photography,” Lex said.

  “Yeah, me neither. Because they haven’t been developed yet.”

  Riley snort-laughed, and the guys erupted in a chorus of groans.

  “How long were you sitting on that one?” Riley asked, showing off a toothy grin. It distracted him for a moment. He loved making people smile—especially when they tried really hard not to around him.

  “Since yesterday,” he admitted.

  “Must feel good to finally get it out.” She clucked her tongue, lowering her camera as she swept her gaze up and down his body. It was professional, but still, his skin itched with the urge to push it into a different realm.

  He wasn’t usually so pushy. But he didn’t usually get to hang out with women like Riley. Something about her encouraged him to be brasher than normal. To demand her attention. Damn, he wanted her to notice him.

  “You have no idea.” He winked at her, and that delicate blush stained her neck again. Score.

  Riley gave him a few more directions—strike a power pose, get the biceps bulging, take a wide stance facing away from her—before she rested the camera against her shoulder and looked behind her.

  “Okay, who’s next?”

  Some of the wind went out of him. “We’re not done already, are we?”

  “I work quick.” She sent him a tight smile, then looked back at the guys. “Cobra? What about your smart ass?”

  Cobra pushed to standing, sauntering toward the backdrop. Levi snagged his track suit and headed toward the armchair Cobra had vacated. Those red lips knew how to toss an insult, and somehow, that was the sexiest part about her
.

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure your pictures will come out pretty,” Lex teased.

  “Damn straight they will.” Levi huffed, stepping into his track pants. He left the jacket off for now. Travis tutted from the corner of the studio. Hands clasped behind his back, he’d been studying the portraits on the wall for almost too long. Levi strutted his way.

  “Whatcha looking at?”

  “Dude.” Travis glanced at him, jerking his thumb toward a portrait in black and white. “This is Riley’s work.”

  Levi squinted at the picture, assaulted by different layers of intrigue. The composition of the piece was strange, somewhere between a head shot and a cry for help. The facial features looked gritty, somehow haunted. And only after staring at it for a while did he realize it was Riley. A side of her he couldn’t have imagined.

  “Holy shit.” He swung his gaze over to Riley, where she and Cobra were laughing about something. Of course, she got along with everyone but him. “She’s kinda fucked up. But in the good way.”

  “Check out this one.” Travis led him over to the wall right by the front door, where nine small prints hung, forming a square. The group of them told a story, though each print was different—a lonely beach, abandoned cars, the long elegant thighs of a model Levi didn’t know, and then the real sucker punch, the disenchanted scowl of a man sucking on a cigarette, studying something on the horizon. It was just a guy, but it was also way more than a guy. He didn’t know how to explain it.

  “These are really good,” Levi murmured, his voice sticking to his throat. Good was an understatement. Her work made him feel. Maybe a little bit too much.

  “Told you I only work with the best.” Travis squeezed Levi’s shoulder before moving on to a different presentation of portraits. Levi drifted around the studio as Riley and Cobra continued taking pictures. When Cobra was done and Lex was up, Levi had seen damn near everything on the walls in the studio.

  But it wasn’t until he found the picture hidden by the back door that his plan clicked into place.

  The picture looked like any sunny day in Los Angeles. Cracked cement streets, palm trees along the boulevard, too many cars in the background. Except a very garish Easter Bunny lounged on a bench in the middle ground, a cigarette poised between two human fingers jutting out of the costume, and behind him a crazed man approached, muscles bulging, T-shirt ripped.

  The image left him with so many questions. Hell, all of her work did. But this image in particular gave him a solid idea. Something between the Easter Bunny and the ripped T-shirt had triggered it.

  “Travis.” Levi jogged over to his trainer, who was shucking the track suit before getting his pictures taken. “She needs to be the league photographer.”

  “What?”

  “I want her to come to the matches. She’ll be the official photographer.”

  Travis blinked rapidly, like the words didn’t compute. “But you don’t need one. There’s plenty of shots that come from these fights.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” Nobody knew about his vision. Not the full extent of it. And never the why. “I want unique photos of the entire league. Every matchup, but the stuff in between, too. I’ll pay, of course. But it’s gotta be Riley.”

  Travis tilted his head, as though he was considering it. “She’d do a killer job.”

  Riley turned to face him and Travis, one perfect dark brow arched. “Did I hear my name?”

  “Just cooking up a little business proposition.” Levi cocked a grin, hoping his exposed abs might help seal the deal if his offer wouldn’t.

  “Levi is about to start in a brand-new MMA league based on the west coast. He thinks you should be his league photographer,” Travis said, adjusting his tight shorts as he bare-footed his way to the backdrop. His dirty blond hair hung past his chin as he nodded toward Levi. “For all the scheduled fights and then some.”

  Riley blinked, her red lips turning into a confused pout. “You mean…for Levi?”

  “Yes, for Levi,” Levi retorted. “Your work is incredible. You have to be the photographer.”

  Her brows turned into a hard line. “I don’t do that kind of photography. I mean—”

  “I want you,” he butted in. And sure, maybe he meant that in all possible ways. But her hotness was not the driving factor in this decision. It was merely tertiary.

  Levi’s career was on the line here. Ever since he’d made the decision to use MMA as his slingshot to financial security, all bets were off. It was why he lived in LA now. Why Travis was his trainer. Why he wanted somebody to leak his nudes to the press.

  Levi needed fame, and he needed it yesterday.

  Everything in his life rode on making solid money with his fighting career. Everything about this upcoming league would be fodder for the Levi brand, and he wasn’t going to waste an ounce of it.

  “Having you on the squad would be pretty awesome,” Travis said, scrubbing at his jaw. “I’ve never had a personal photographer before, but I can see why Levi wants you.”

  “What would I do?” Riley asked.

  “Work your magic.” Levi gestured toward the nearest portraits. “Come to the matches, and also the practices. I need to put together a tight professional portfolio.”

  Riley didn’t look convinced. “I really don’t do sports photography.”

  “I don’t want sports photography.” Levi’s gaze swept back to the panel of nine square photos. “I want your photography.”

  Riley cocked a hip, fiddling with a button on her camera. Her silky mocha locks spilled out from behind her ear, partially shrouding her face. She wasn’t just trendy AF, like her shirt proclaimed. She was talented and gorgeous too.

  Levi needed someone like this in his circle.

  “How long would it last?” she finally ventured.

  “Four months. Maybe longer, if it works out. I mean, my career will last longer than this league.”

  “Because obviously Levi is making it to the final tournament,” Travis clarified.

  Riley nibbled on her lower lip, looking between Travis and Levi. Each time her chocolate eyes swept his way, his abs tightened. He liked being the object of her attention. And if she was his photographer, there’d be plenty more jolts like those.

  “I’m serious enough about this that you can name your price,” Levi said. “And I’ll pay it.”

  Something shuddered over her face with those words. The promise of money. It pushed people out of their comfort zone. Made them do crazy things, like try to conquer Hollywood or follow MMA fighters around for four months.

  “Yeah. I’ll do it,” Riley said, straightening her back. “But we’re going to need to have a contract.”

  Chapter 3

  If Riley’s life had turned into a comic book, she’d have dollar signs in front of her eyes that afternoon.

  She blinked at the swirls of her name freshly inked on a contract that she and Travis and Levi had drawn up very quickly over the past two days. Time was running out—Levi wanted her to start snapping pictures now—and this contract was a simple but straightforward outline of the work she’d provide and what to expect.

  She wanted it to cover her own ass. She trusted Travis, practically with her life, but Levi was a wild card. She could see it in the molten glint in his eye, the undercurrent of lust or mischief or something that set her on edge faster than an errant grope in the nightclub.

  Her body responded to him way more than she wanted. She was on a self-imposed hiatus from men, ever since her shitty ex had made her private life go viral. It took time to recover from deception like that. Like maybe an entire lifetime.

  Which meant Levi, the epitome of a Hollywood newbie hungry for the spotlight, couldn’t get anywhere near her. No matter how much those abs whispered sweet nothings to her. No matter how much her fingers tickled with the urge to touch his hair for herself.

  Her sanity depended on it.

  “Damn.” A smile curled across Travis’s face. “Looks like
we’re legit.”

  “Hell yes!” Levi raised his fists into the air.

  “I’ll go make some copies,” Travis offered, pushing to standing. He let himself out of the conference room, leaving her and Levi alone.

  At least he was wearing a shirt today. Hiding his body from view helped things slightly, but the white tee clung to his shoulders and biceps in a way that only reminded her of the sculpted expanses below. And dammit, she wanted to see those freckles again.

  Strictly for artistic purposes, of course.

  “You’ve got to be at least a little excited,” Levi said.

  “I am, actually.” She offered him a smile. Maybe he could see she wasn’t a total bitch. “This is going to be interesting. And very different from what I normally do.” She paused, drumming her nails against the table. “I hope I can, you know?”

  “Riley, we just met, but I believe in you one hundred percent.”

  Levi’s sincere tone made her pause. She dragged her gaze up to his. What was this guy’s deal? He was some sort of inspirational, happy-go-lucky hunk. “Thanks.”

  His attention sizzled over her. “But if you need help on anything, let me know.” He leaned back in his chair, resting his palms behind his head. It made his shirt stretch tighter over those biceps. Knocked the wind right out of her.

  She practically needed to wipe the drool off her mouth.

  “I appreciate that.”

  “I’m available for…anything, really.” And there it was. The smirk that promised so much more. She frowned, feeling frustration burble hot inside her.

  “Okay. I do have one consideration so far, during my first day on the job.” She leaned forward, tapping her fist against the table. “Did you or did you not hire me because you want to fuck?”

  Levi’s eyes widened, and he slammed his chair back to the ground with a loud thud. “Fuck?” The fake astonishment pushed his voice to a falsetto. It was almost funny. Almost. “Like…the two of us having sex?”