Rule breaker, p.8
Rule Breaker, p.8Part #20 of Breeds series by Lora Leigh
Not that she would have let him kiss her in the bar, she assured herself. She couldn’t do that. Her reputation of refusing any man she met in a bar was golden. All it would take was one moment of weakness to undo years of work.
And Rule was quickly becoming her weakness.
He and Dane were steadily becoming known as “regulars” in the unofficial nightlife that existed around the reservation’s Arizona–New Mexico border with the Navajo Nation. It wasn’t as though they were strangers now.
If they weren’t at whatever bar she pulled into when she pulled in, then they arrived within minutes of her taking the first sip of her drink. They had a few drinks, watching the younger Breeds and enforcers that Rule obviously seemed to feel so responsible for, and then they would leave and check out the next rowdy gathering.
And all the while, Rule watched her, those thick lashes slightly narrowed, those neon blue eyes gleaming with interest.
And God, he made her hot.
When the rhythmic ring tone identifying Kandy’s number had vibrated in her pocket, it had terrified her. Because at that moment she had wanted nothing more than to—
“Are the sweets inside as nice as they are outside?”
A squeak of surprise and Gypsy was whirling around, almost reaching for the knife she kept tucked in the holster inside her boot.
Just almost, because she recognized his voice, knew who he was even before she turned. It just took a minute for her body to catch up.
“You prick, you just scared a year off my life!” Slamming both hands into the steel hard muscles of his chest as she let that first flush of adrenaline tear through her, she accomplished little else than bruising her palms. “What the hell are you doing here, Breaker? Trying to give me a freakin’ heart attack?”
“Someone was following you.”
There was no amusement in his eyes as there had been all week. No playful teasing in his voice.
He was flat serious.
She felt herself pale as she stared into his eyes and knew he wasn’t joking.
“Who was following me?” Why would anyone be following her? What the hell was going on that anyone would take an interest in her all of a sudden?
“If I’d known who was following you, sweet pea, I would be following him instead of rushing here to make sure you were okay.”
His voice sent her heart racing in something more than fear this time.
“I’m fine.” Was her voice really trembling?
It was really trembling.
That look in his eyes was pure serious. And it wasn’t just pure serious danger either. It was serious lust and intent. And she had a feeling she was not going to escape with a bit of flirting tonight.
“I can see that.” He nodded slowly.
The black of his mission uniform blended into the night. With his black hair and bronzed flesh, his blue eyes almost glowed in the dark. And they were hot.
“Yeah.” Shoving her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, she hurriedly jerked them out as those eyes lowered, sliding across the tops of her breasts as they pushed out against the snug tank top she wore. “Um, I’m fine. You can leave. If you want. I mean, yeah, you can leave.” She felt like smacking her own head as the synapses between lips and brain seemed to misfire alarmingly.
What the hell was she supposed to do with her hands?
She crossed her arms over her breasts and that didn’t work. Finally, she just shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans uncomfortably.
“You got here fast. How did you pass me and I didn’t see you?” She cleared her throat, so nervous she swore she could feel her vocal cords trembling with it.
She would have noticed a Dragoon passing her in a heartbeat, and she knew she hadn’t seen it.
“Of course I got here fast. I had to make sure my favorite girl was safe.” His lips quirked just that little bit, his gaze lightening only marginally. “There’s no one else to bust my ass on a regular basis.”
“Because everyone else is trying too hard to get that tight ass naked,” she retorted.
Oh shit, she didn’t say that.
But she did.
His eyes narrowed on her. “But you’re not, of course?”
“Oh no. Not me. I’m just everyone’s best bud, haven’t you heard?” And that wasn’t bitterness in her voice now, was it?
But she knew better. The restlessness, the knowledge that the choices she had made over the years kept her life so sanitized it was painful, had the restlessness inside her growing until she felt she couldn’t contain it any longer.
“I hadn’t heard.” He took a step closer.
Was she supposed to retreat?
Retreat? Um, yeah. She stepped back. “Well, I’m fine. You see I’m fine.” Holding her hands back from her body, she went back another step. “You can go now. Where did you park anyway?” He wasn’t parked out back. “Wherever you parked, be careful now. See you later.”
But he wasn’t moving to leave. Instead, he was moving with her, a step toward her for every step she took back.
“Are you scared of me, Gypsy?” His voice was lower, a little raspier, rougher. And she liked the sound of it far too much.
She moved back another step as he moved closer. Close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body.
A gasp slipped past her lips before she could stop it as her retreat was suddenly halted by the privacy fencing that hid her sister’s front door from view of the parking lot and their parents’ home.
“Rule—” She couldn’t make herself say “No.” Instead, her hands lifted to press against his chest, only to find them securely caught in his broad hands.
A second later he had them secured firmly over her head and pressed against the fence behind her.
Arrogant sexuality and pure confidence.
The combination was maddening and highly arousing. So arousing she was creaming her panties furiously.
“This isn’t a good—” She knew what he was going to do. And she knew if she let him do it—
He didn’t ask permission, he didn’t give her a warning. Halfway through her own warning on the advisability of what she knew was coming, his lips covered hers, his tongue taking full advantage of her surprised gasp.
Too experienced, warm, with a hint of pure male determination, his lips covered hers and immediately set fire to her senses.
Chocolate and peppermint.
He tasted like chocolate and peppermint candy. Like pure sex and she wanted to lick him up one slow lick at a time.
His free hand cupped the side of her face as his thumb pressed at the tip of her chin, parting her lips further as his settled deeper into the kiss.
His lips plundered hers erotically. They licked over the plumped curves and at her curious tongue as his kiss assured her that he knew exactly what he was doing. And he knew exactly how to make it so damned good that she had no choice but to enjoy it.
And she was definitely enjoying it.
Her whole body was enjoying it.
His free hand moved from her chin to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her head back.
Releasing her wrists, his hand moved to her hip, gripped, then slid to her lower back before moving to the curve of her rear.
She was beyond fighting his kiss.
She was beyond fighting anything he wanted to give her right now.
Actually, she was more than ready to take more.
Gripping his shoulders and holding tight to him, Gypsy dug her nails into the black material of his uniform as he tugged at her hair again. The caress sent a radiant heat through her scalp and flooded her senses.
A groan, or a growl, rumbled in his throat as she arched to him.
A hard, heavy thigh slipped between her legs, the iron-hard muscle pressing firmly into the mound of her sex. The flesh there was so sensitive now that the contact burned through her jeans and the
Releasing her hair, his palm caressing down her back, to her side, then moving in a determined stroke to the ripe curve of her breast. There, his thumb found the tight, hard tip of her breast through the thin material of her tank top. The rasp of his callused fingertip sent hot arcs of sensation surging from the tight tip straight to the clenched, tension-filled area of her womb.
Pure, unbelievable pleasure began surrounding her, rushing through her veins, racing through her body.
Her hips tilted into the hard caress of his heavy thigh. Her clit rasped against the silk of her panties and denim of her jeans as his hard, muscular thigh flexed and rubbed against her.
For so many years she had wondered what it felt like, this pleasure she had denied herself for so long.
This Breed hadn’t bothered to sweep past any objections she might have.
He hadn’t given her a chance to object, period.
He hadn’t asked for permission.
He hadn’t even warned her.
He’d immediately flooded her entire body with such a rush of volatile pleasure that she couldn’t deny herself more.
Her tongue met his over and over again, rubbing against it, licking it, loving the taste of chocolate and peppermint she found there.
His palm cupped her breast, tested the weight, and he made that growly sound again as he released his hold. His hand slid to her hips, pressing beneath the hem of her shirt, and a second later he found bare skin.
If pleasure had been a rush of pure, adrenaline-laced heat flooding her veins before, the second his callused fingertips and palm brushed over her midriff, it became rocket fuel rushing through her system.
His fingertips rasped her sensitive flesh with destructive waves of sensation that fed pure sensual intensity straight to the suddenly hungry depths of her pussy. Her clit didn’t just throb now, it ached, hurting for his touch. Her nipples weren’t just tight, but so swollen, so blazingly sensitive that the scrape of her bra over the tight peaks was nearly too much to bear.
Too much to bear, and yet it wasn’t enough sensation.
Heat seared her nerve endings as a chill raced over her flesh, raising goose bumps along her arms as she shuddered within his hold.
His touch moved over her midriff to below her waist, halting there for a second before his lips tore from hers and Gypsy realized she was panting, desperate for air, yet just as desperate for his kiss again. A shaky moan left her lips and her lashes fluttered open as his kiss slid over her jaw to the sensitive line of her neck.
She arched against him helplessly, a mewling little whimper leaving her lips as his fingers tightened in her hair again, tugging at it. His teeth scraped against her neck, causing her to arch to her toes as a wave of exquisite pleasure exploded beneath his caressing lips and at her scalp at the same time.
She felt as though her nerve endings were racing to get as close to his lips and his tugging hand as possible. Her breasts were so swollen above his other palm that it was all she could do not to beg him to touch her.
All this was happening right here, in plain sight of anyone who might drive down the street behind the store.
It wasn’t exactly the outskirts of town. She lived only two blocks from Main Street, for God’s sake.
“Do we do this here?” he growled at her neck. “Or do we do this in the comfort of your bed?”
The implications of what they were doing exploded in her head.
Who was more surprised when she tore away from him and managed to duck beneath his arm to escape to the bottom of the steps, her or Rule?
As she stared back at him, the glow of his eyes, like neon flames, seemed to lick over her body in promise.
It was a promise that sent a bolt of fear tearing through her.
When his gaze met hers, there was a warning in them as well. One that stroked over her body and seared her senses like a brand and assured her that he wouldn’t let her run for long.
“You don’t run away from pleasure that extreme, little girl,” he assured her, a confident smile curling at the corner of his lips.
“Watch me.” She wasn’t waiting around for him to actually touch her again and prove his words.
Jerking her house key from her back pocket, she fumbled for a moment before she turned and ran up the stairs. She heard him pounding up the steps behind her. A second later the key slid in, the door opened, and she jumped into the apartment, slamming the door behind her and sliding the deadbolt home just as she heard him reach the narrow deck outside.
A chuckle whispered through the door. “Who are you scared of, Gypsy? Me, or yourself?”
Him, she assured herself. It was definitely him scaring the shit out of her, not her response to him, not the knowledge that she was throwing her life away to have sex with a Breed if she continued this course.
“You are insane,” she accused him, her voice rough. “Stop trying to seduce me, Rule. It’s not going to happen.”
The low male laughter sent a shudder of need clenching at her pussy.
“Tell yourself that while you’re whispering my name and spilling all your sweet cream along whatever toy you use to get yourself off tonight, Gypsy.” There was the slightest edge of knowing irritation as he growled the words.
Gypsy closed her eyes tight, knowing she would be doing just that and hating him for it.
God, she so didn’t want to want him like this. Like he was the best thing since breathing and she needed him just as much as she did the air she took in. But even now, she ached to feel his lips on hers again and she could have sworn the taste of peppermint was lingering in her senses.
As she inhaled hoarsely, her fingers drifted over the tops of her breasts, her breath catching at the pleasure—
“I can make it feel better, baby,” he crooned through the door. “All night, while you’re screaming because the pleasure is so damned good, each orgasm so hot and exciting that all you want to do is reach out for the next one before the last one is finished pulsing through that hot little pussy.”
“Go away!” Jumping away from the door, Gypsy turned to face the panel, heat surging through her as she had to force herself not to open the door for him.
“Sweet dreams, lovely Gypsy,” he repeated, the amusement in his voice lazy and arrogant. “I’ll see you soon.”
See her soon?
“Not if I see you first,” she muttered.
“I heard that. My sense of smell isn’t my only talent.”
Of course he had an excellent sense of smell. Of course he knew just how desperately she wanted him. That was her damned luck.
She was hot, the sensitive flesh between her thighs so swollen and needy it ached, her clit filled with such heat it was nearly unbearable.
He had to be able to smell it, because fate certainly wouldn’t allow her to deny it.
Her face flamed with embarrassment. “I’m calling the sheriff.”
He didn’t answer.
What was the pervert doing now?
“Did you hear me? I’m calling the sheriff.”
Listening closely, hearing nothing but the racing of her heart thundering in her ears, eyes wide, she tried to determine whether he was still out there.
The faintest sound of a Desert Dragoon starting up, its powerful motor echoing from the front of the building, had Gypsy racing into the living room to peek between the heavy curtains hanging there.
Gazing down at the lighted street, she watched as the black all-terrain vehicle eased from its parking spot and then, with a burst of speed, raced down the street.
“Playing with fire, Whisper? And here I thought you understood the rules? Tell me, did you even search his suite as you were supposed to?”
She laid her head against the window at the sound of the low, grating voice behind he
She should have expected this.
“What are you doing here?” Turning, Gypsy faced the member of the Unknown who had accepted her as a contact only months after the death of her brother.
The same warrior who had given her the terms of her participation.
She must always remain a virgin.
Was he trying to make her insane now? Was every man she knew trying to drive her freaking crazy this month?
“Checking on you.” Crossing his arms over his broad chest, the tall figure leaned against the frame of her bedroom door.
She didn’t even try to see what he looked like, she knew better. The war paint that marked his face was done in such a way as to make it impossible to distinguish his features, no matter how close she came or how hard she attempted to find a distinguishing angle.
She spread her hands out from her body and gazed back at him mockingly. “All in one piece.”
Literally. Even her virginity was still intact.
Which was all he was probably worried about.
“I had no doubt. But now, I wonder,” he assured her, the confidence in his voice grating on her already heightened nerves.
“Then why check on me?” Moving from the window, she strode across the living room to the kitchen, glancing back as she passed the counter that divided the rooms. “Want a drink? I’m having one.”
“No, thank you.” His answer didn’t surprise her.
Pulling the refrigerator door open, she snagged a long-necked bottle of her favorite beer and twisted the cap off in disgust before taking a long drink.
“You’re twenty-four years old, aren’t you, Whisper?” He spoke as she swallowed the bitter brew.
“What does it matter?” Turning to face him, she leaned back against the fridge, seeing the gleam of hazel eyes. The last time she saw him, they looked blue.
“You’ve remained a virgin for nine years in order to work with us. You’ve had no lovers, you have few friends and you began separating herself from your family even before Mark’s funeral. Tell me, how long do you think you can remain isolated among the people who so love you? Or this Breed who seems intent on having you?”
She lifted her brow in a deliberate attempt to convey unconcern. “I walked away.”
“You ran away,” he retorted knowingly. “There’s a difference.”
There was a difference, and she knew it.
She simply didn’t want to discuss it.
“When I can’t run from him any longer, I’ll let you know,” she promised, tipping the bottle to her lips again.
“And what would happen to you if you stopped running?” Compassion filled his voice. “If you suddenly found you needed more than a drink to sleep on the bad nights?”
He nodded to the beer she was lowering.
“You think I drink to sleep?” she asked, amused. “Tell me, have you ever slipped into my apartment and caught me asleep?”
She knew he hadn’t.
His head tilted to the side as he watched her, dissected her.
“Never,” he finally admitted. “But I haven’t tried to.”
“Then try,” she suggested. “But don’t stay long if you do catch my eyes closed, because it never lasts.”
She and sleep were not close personal acquaintances. But she and the nightmares that followed her were.
“That Breed won’t be easy to turn away,” he told her. “And getting the information we need will be impossible if you ignore him.”
“Getting the information you need will be impossible if I sleep with him, remember?” she said, mocking him. “If I sleep with him, then you’ll no longer answer my calls.”
“I have voice mail. Leave a message. I’ll always listen.”
Gypsy narrowed her gaze on him as he slowly straightened from his position against the door frame.
“Are you rescinding the terms of my participation?” she asked slowly.
“That’s not possible,” he sighed heavily. “But should you break the terms of your participation, it doesn’t mean I’ll completely desert you. I’ll just refuse to work with you further.”
“Have you ever considered how ignorant that would be?” she asked him as she shook her head, disbelief reflecting in her voice now. “The information I pull in for you
Rule Breaker by Lora Leigh / Romance & Love / Fantasy have rating 4.3 out of 5 / Based on47 votes