Breaking the Rules: The Breaking Series #1 Page 9

  An eyebrow lifted. “Right. So you can fake-abuse me back here, and nobody will know.”

  “Exactly.” He grinned. He wanted to do a lot of other things even more. His gaze skipped up and down her body, a reflex he couldn’t control. Her curves begged him to look.

  “What do you do in the training camp?” She nodded toward the octagon.

  “Mostly help guys learn how to fight MMA-style. But more recently I’ve been using it to prepare for a tournament.”

  “What sort of tournament?”

  “I’ll be headlining the fight,” he said, trying to keep the swell in his chest from knocking her over. “Kind of like a UFC tournament, but a different league. It’s a matchup with one of my oldest rivals… I haven’t competed in three years, so it’s a big deal.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t look as impressed as he’d imagined she might be. “Why has it been three years?”

  “I got injured.” He shrugged. “Tore my ACL. And then it became the perfect opportunity to start this gym, so I took it. I’ve been out of the game for a while.”

  “Well, shit. Will you win?”

  He stepped closer, letting his bravado bleed into her. “Of course.”

  Her gaze drifted to the octagon again, and something strange passed between them, something he couldn’t put his finger on.

  “So what are you gonna do to me?” She cocked a hip, eyes brimming with mischief. His fingers twitched as he thought about snagging her at the waist, knocking that hip against his own.

  “Have you ever been at the club and some douchebag wouldn’t leave you alone?”

  She scoffed. “What girl hasn’t?”

  “I can show you what to do if he starts creeping.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  Travis nodded, heart rate kicking up a notch. “Let’s say we’re at the club. This insanely quiet, bright club at the back of my gym. I’ve been creeping on you, and I’m drunk and not taking a hint, and probably not nearly as ripped as I actually am.”

  She smirked, nodding. “Okay.”

  “It doesn’t even matter if it’s the club or not. It can be anywhere. It’s any unwanted advances.” Travis wrapped his arm around her waist, spinning her around and snagging her close. Her body formed a delicious seal with him. “So a guy bear-hugs you. What do you do from here?”

  She sighed, squinting. “I thought you said unwanted advances.”

  He tightened his arm around her, mind growing cloudy. “I said we’re pretending. Act like you don’t want to secretly get into my bed.” So maybe you could be not Eddie’s sister, and it would be totally fine if I pinned you against the wall and had my way with you.

  She giggled, cheeks flushing. “Okay, fine. I bite. What do I do?”

  His eyes fluttered shut, relishing the feel of her warmth against him, the softness of her belly under his arm, the nearness of her scent. “With your right leg, step to the outside, and then backstop my knee.”

  She put her leg out and behind him, connecting with the back of his knee.

  “Good. That’ll knock me off balance. Then you bring your left elbow up, straight toward my face.”

  She brought her elbow up, stopping before actually clocking him. He loosened his grip, stepping back. “Great. That’ll get me away and off you, so then you can get the fuck out of there, or call the police, or text Eddie, or whatever.”

  She nodded, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear, looking flushed. “Sweet. That’s a good one. Though I might actually call you instead of Eddie.”

  He bit back a grin. “I’d be okay with that.”

  A heavy moment shivered between them. When she spoke again, her voice was softer. “I liked the bear-hug part. Maybe we should practice that again.”

  He cocked a brow. “You need a hug?” He’d give her all the hugs she wanted.

  She shrugged, looking him up and down. “Maybe I appreciate you helping me.”

  He grinned and pulled her into a hug, this time from the front, every point of his body touching hers, alive and on fire. He squeezed her tightly, brow furrowing as he fought to savor every last millisecond. She sighed deeply in his embrace, arms tightening around his waist.

  When they broke, Amara looked up at him lazily, eyes drifting open and shut. “Damn, Travis. You give good hugs.”

  She had given him a good hug…and half a boner. “No, I think you give good hugs.”

  They shared a private smile, one that made him feel as if they’d been together for years. He kept his grip tight around her, liked the feel of her against him, the warmth of her seeping into him.

  Time shuddered to a stop as he gazed into her eyes, breath shriveling in his throat as something sprang to life between them.

  Travis cinched her closer and dipped down, smoothing his lips against hers. She shivered in his arms and welcomed the kiss, tipping her head back to greet him. Her fragrance was divine from so close, velvety lips a sinful treat that he’d been imagining for far too long. And it was better than he’d imagined.

  They kissed until he needed to break for air. And then they only paused, foreheads pressed together, before he dived back in, tongue pressing into her mouth, hungry and probing. Their kisses were fervent and desperate, the intensity surprising but not unexpected. This is what you were afraid of.

  After a few moments his warning bells went off. He could be here all night making out with her, and that wouldn’t be good for anyone. Even worse if someone came back here and discovered them.

  “Is this part of the self-defense training?” Amara smiled weakly, her breath coming out in short puffs.

  “I guess,” he said, loosening his arms, shrugging with a laugh. “Part of my new approach.”

  “I like it.” She squeezed his arm, biting her lower lip. Those fuck-me eyes back in full form. Exactly the type of look that made his already wavering willpower fade into nothingness.

  And with Amara, he needed a lot more than willpower if he was going to keep his shit together.

  Chapter 7

  Amara lay on the bench-press seat, giggling. She and Travis had been working out after the self-defense lessons for over an hour, but with the constant conversational detours, the session wasn’t nearly as focused as it would have been during the daytime.

  “Okay, seriously.” Travis sent her a stern look. “You have to resist me.”

  She sat up, placing her feet on the ground. Travis knelt before her, deep chocolate eyes mischievous as he watched her.

  “Impossible.” She fought a grin. “Now what do I do?”

  “Bring your leg up, and I’m going to push down. This is like resistance training. I want to see how strong you are.”

  She nodded. She tried to raise her leg while Travis kept a flat-palmed hand over her ankle, resisting her. She grunted, unable to overcome his strength. Despite the concentration, she couldn’t stop noticing the arc of his bicep, or the smooth, tan chest peeking out from behind the tank top.

  After she gave up with a huff, he nodded, looking maybe pleased. Or maybe she was just the weakling she feared. “Not bad. Let’s do the other one.”

  Amara felt the warmth of his hand over her left ankle and shook her head. “You should go higher.”

  “Why?”

  “That ankle hurts.”

  He slid his hand up to her shin, gaze curious on her. “Is that better?”

  “A little higher.”

  He narrowed his eyes but pushed his hand higher. “What about here?”

  “It actually hurts all the way up until here.” She grabbed his hand and covered her thigh with it. Her heart pounded wildly, loving the teasing, the temptation. He exhaled slowly through his nose, eyes fastened to his hand on her thigh.

  “I gotta watch it around you, huh?” He squeezed her thigh, barely. Maybe so slightly she’d imagined it.

  She grinned. “Maybe.”

  “Nice try.” He moved his hand back down to her ankle, leveling her with his gaze. Something fiery burned there now. “I actually believed you fo
r a second.”

  She cackled and then lifted her leg, resisting him as hard as she could. When she puffed and released, he nodded, looking distracted. He rested on his heels. “That was good.”

  She pointed her toe at him, grinning. “Are we done and worked out?”

  “Done.” He rubbed the back of his neck, studying her. “What’re your plans for the evening?”

  Amara tipped her head back and forth, making a big display of thinking. “Weeelll, I don’t know. I was thinking about getting some dinner right now.” She picked absentmindedly at the bench cushion, glancing up at him innocently. Take the bait, take the bait.

  “Oh yeah?” Travis stood, resting his hands on his hips. “I guess that means we should go grab dinner together.”

  She beamed. Technically his idea, no matter how much she’d been hoping for it all night. “Perfect. I’m gonna go change.” She hopped to her feet and then skipped off to the locker room, as energized as though she was beginning her day. Travis really put a pep in her step—and a lot of other places too.

  Travis was a titillating challenge for her—not just because he was the sexiest guy alive, but because the stakes were high. No other fling had been so fun or risky. If she had any ounce of her right mind left, she’d stop pursuing him. But she physically couldn’t; any attempt to look away from this man felt deeply, intrinsically wrong. Those kisses earlier that evening only proved it.

  She did a body rinse only, re-dressing in leggings and a slouchy sweater, leaving her hair tousled in the topknot. When she came back out, Travis was the epitome of gym chic. Oversize sneakers—the expensive, shiny kind—and long workout shorts, coupled with a black hoodie pulled over his head, the longer strands of his hair peeking out from the front. Gym bag dangling from a shoulder, he wrapped up his conversation with the receptionist as Amara approached.

  Slapping the counter, he slid his gaze toward her. A smile flickered at his lips.

  “I’m starving.” She nodded toward the doors. “Want me to drive?”

  “Hell yeah. I didn’t drive in to work today. Maybe you could give me a lift home too.”

  She laughed. “How did you get into work, then?”

  “I caught a ride with Lex. He spent the night.”

  She lifted a brow. “Guys’ night is every night, huh?”

  He shook his head, pushing through the main doors and holding it open for her. “Nah, it’s not like that. He’s going through a rough time.”

  “So why didn’t I see him in your bed pictures you sent me yesterday?” She loved to poke him. It was practically her job now.

  He snorted. “Like I’d out myself so quickly.”

  They shared a warm look, one that made the butterflies kick into high gear again. It didn’t matter how much trouble she’d be in if Eddie found out she was trying to fuck one of his best friends. Travis was the only guy who had lit her fire in years. It would be illegal not to pursue it.

  Inside the SUV, Travis took the liberty of flipping off the radio and plugging in his iPhone. Amara side-eyed him. “I hope you have good taste in music, buddy.”

  “I do.” He cast a lopsided grin. “Trust me.” It was hard not to when he talked like that.

  Downtempo hip-hop with an electronic undertone sprang to life. Travis settled into the seat, looking content.

  “Nice.” She maneuvered the car out of the Holt Body parking lot toward the freeway. There were hundreds of places they could find dinner at eight p.m. on a Wednesday. The only question was, which would Travis pick? This was a litmus test, of sorts. God help her if he suggested salads and steamed vegetables.

  “Where should we go?”

  Travis bobbed his head along with the music, face partially obscured by the hoodie. “Let’s go to the Diner on Esplanade. You know it?”

  She did—full of delicious, greasy diner fare. Her belly rumbled in anticipation of a juicy burger. “Hell yeah, I do.” She accelerated as she merged onto the freeway, joining the medium clip of traffic. Between his smile, their easygoing banter, and the suggestion to go to the diner, hell, they might fuck in the back of her car.

  “Tell me, Travis.” She sipped at her water as she drove. “What do you do besides work out all day and manage your own business?”

  He laughed. “Not much these days.”

  “Well, there’re guys’ nights, too, I guess.”

  “Right. Can’t forget those. Between my business and the rooftop hot tub, that’s my life in a nutshell.” He sighed, looking out the side window. “Every second spent thinking about the damn gym or training for that tournament.”

  “Seems like you’ve been growing the business a lot. For opening a handful of years ago, you’ve come a long way.”

  “Thanks. I think so too.”

  She eased onto the exit lane. “Are you happy with it?”

  He gnawed at the inside of his lip as he looked out the window. “Yeah. But I dunno; there’s something missing.”

  “What could be missing? You’ve got clients, employees, profit…”

  “I know. It seems strange. I’m trying to figure it out.”

  “Well, let me know if I can help,” she said.

  “It’s hard being a businessman. Was way easier when all I had to do was show up and punch people.”

  She snickered. “You could always go back to that full-time, right?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Why, you’ve gone soft?”

  He looked over at her curiously, as though trying to judge whether she was joking. Her stomach tightened. Shit. Wrong thing to say. He shook his head, and his gaze drifted away.

  “Sorry. Bad joke.” She grimaced, heading for the exit that led to the diner. “There’s nothing soft about you, Travis. I punched you the other night. You’re a brick wall.”

  “It’s not that. You made me think; that’s all.”

  “Hopefully that’s a good thing.” She tossed him a dazzling smile, hoping that she hadn’t unwittingly offended him and ruined the evening in one fell swoop. Would be typical for you, though, Amara.

  He sat up in the seat, brows furrowed. “I think… I don’t know. It’s weird because like, five years ago I would have been pissed if you’d said that to me.”

  “And now it’s fine?”

  “Yeah.” He laughed a little. “I could see myself getting angry, but like a former Travis.”

  “Just now, when I said that?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded, eyes still distant. “But I wasn’t angry. At all. It sort of…hit me. Seeing who I was versus now.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been doing some healing.” She eased onto the off ramp. The diner was only minutes away now. “Or is that not very manly to admit?”

  “I’ll take it.” He took a deep breath. “Fuck. Are you always like this with people?”

  Her mouth fell open. “Like what?”

  “You like to dig in deep.”

  She fought a grin. “Well…I’ll be honest; it wasn’t my intention. But what’s the point of talking to someone if you can’t get down a few layers?”

  “Lots of people live their lives without digging into the layers.”

  “Are they better off for it?”

  He shook his head, eyes on the passing boulevard. “Definitely not.”

  “I like to understand people. What makes them tick. How they arrive in certain situations.” She shrugged. “You’re fascinating, by the way.”

  “Not any more fascinating than you.”

  Their eyes locked briefly as she hung a right turn into the diner parking lot. Heat scorched through her, something desperate, deep, and pure.

  * * *

  Inside the diner was clamorous and bright. The smell of fried food hung in the air, making Travis salivate the second they stepped inside. A mostly disinterested waitress led them to the last available table.

  “We got here just in time.” Travis slid into the booth, lowering his hoodie. “I’m gonna eat five burgers.”

  Amara snorted, flipping thr
ough the menu. “Are you serious?”

  “I could be.” He skimmed the menu, knowing already he’d get the same thing he always got. There was no other way. It was the perfect combination of tastes in life.

  “There’s so much crap on here,” she murmured, but he understood she meant “crap” in a positive way. She might have only been back in LA for a couple of weeks, but he was really beginning to understand her quirks. Her reactions and different laughs according to the situation were practically a new focus of study for him. He’d ace the test for sure.

  “Do you know what you’re getting?” She glanced up at him, her dark eyes sending a shiver through him.

  “Of course.” He pushed the menu aside, leaning closer to her over the table. “Extra-large burger, no onion, three pickles, extra cottage cheese on the side.”

  “Nothing regular, huh?” She winked at him and continued reviewing the menu. He took the opportunity to gobble her up while she wasn’t looking. His gaze wandered over her full lips as they silently mouthed certain words, the angle of her jawline, the wisps of hair that fell across her forehead. He was suddenly so desperate to kiss her, he had to turn away. He cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair.

  When she set the menu aside, he felt her gaze on him before he looked up.

  “What’d you decide?”

  “Blackened bleu cheese burger.” She grinned like a devil. “Extra fries.”

  “Attagirl.”

  “I need to take after my trainer.” Her gaze drifted to his hands as he fiddled with a napkin near the middle. Nervous habits died hard; he needed to occupy his hands, especially face-to-face with Amara. Just so he didn’t do something he’d regret.

  “Damn.” She let out a low whistle. “Your hands are so…hardened.”

  He stopped tearing at the napkin, extending his fingers. “Oh yeah?”

  “Fighter’s hands.” She grinned again, tracing a caramel finger along the inseam of his index finger and across his palm. His breath caught in his throat. “You must get so much pussy.”