Broken Rules: A Stand Alone Romance Page 6

  He looked at her expectantly, almost hesitantly.

  Not knowing what to say, she stared at him awkwardly.

  Then he seemed to relax as he took a step toward her. His powerful, well-muscled body moved with easy grace. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but it was, suddenly, so dry. She licked her lips, watching him come closer and closer. He stopped in front of her. She craned her neck back, never wishing to look away. His intense eyes held hers captive.

  Then a slow smile spread his lips wide, revealing even, white teeth. “Hi,” he said.

  She blushed and cleared her throat. “Hello.”

  He reached out and gently grabbed her waist, pulling her toward him.

  “I can’t.” She thrust her hands against his hard chest, stopping him. “I have this new rule, and you’re against it.”

  A smile tugged at his full lips. He shrugged. “Some rules were made to be broken.”

  “Maybe, but not this one. You see, I’ve sworn off guys like you,” she confessed as what little resolve she had crumbled beneath the weight of his fiercely sexy gaze.

  “What kind of guy am I?” he asked softly while his thumb grazed her bottom lip.

  She groaned. “The kind that breaks into your apartment and comes up behind you when you’re wearing nothing but a towel. You know...the bad kind.”

  A wicked smile upturned his lips. “You mean, good guys don’t do that?”

  She shook her head, her heart ready to beat right out of her chest. “No, they don’t.”

  He pulled her closer. “Well, they should,” he said, fingering the ties of her robe. “Cause, they’re missing out.”

  He leaned close and pressed a slow, soft kiss to the hollow of her throat. She closed her eyes, reveling in the sensual touch. Her knees trembled. Then his mouth moved over hers, claiming her lips. Standing on her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and returned his kiss with all the hunger that had been building within her, aching for release. His touch charged through her veins, burning a path straight to her pounding heart.

  His demanding lips continued to explore and devour her, which she returned with a passion all her own. Scooping her into his arms, he laid her down on her bed. He stretched over her, brushing a wayward curl from her brow. “You are infinitely beautiful,” he whispered.

  His gaze bore into hers, his amber eyes alight like twin flames. She reached up, her heart filled with both elation and sorrow. “You’re gonna break my heart worst of all.”

  He softly stroked her cheek. “I could take anything in this world I wanted, Savannah.” His lips brushed against hers as he spoke. “All I want is you.”

  Done. Game over.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and crushed him close, kissing him with all her passion, her need, her strength, her desperation, her flaws, and her perfections. In that moment, she knew exactly who she was and what she wanted.

  And what she wanted was Damien.

  Slowly, he broke their kiss, his teeth gently tugging her bottom lip until he pulled away all together and sat up. Then he reached out and stroked her cheek, his fingers traveling down to her neck and lower still. His hand curved around her breast where he lingered, slowly caressing and teasing her nipple through the fabric of her robe. A soft gasp fled her lips. She pressed into his touch. Then his hand skimmed down to her waist where he grasped one length of the tie securing her robe.

  Her breath caught as she watched him pull it, slowly releasing the knot. Then, his gaze locked with hers, his amber eyes burning through her as he folded back the sides of her robe, exposing her freshly scrubbed body. Cool air caressed her skin, making her nipples hard. A slow smile curved his lips before his gaze left hers to take in the sight of her.

  “So beautiful,” he said softly, reverently.

  She arched her back into his touch as he cupped her breasts. Then he mouth closed over her nipple drawing on the hard peak, tasting, teasing. Her body burned for him while his hands raked her the curve of her hip, exploring, his lips nibbling. Breathless, she gripped his shoulders. The ache within her grew, sweet, agonizing. She pulled at his shirt.

  “Let me see you,” she pleaded. “Let me feel you.”

  He climbed off the bed and pulled his shirt over his head and slid his jeans off. She drank in the sight of his sleek strength.

  “So beautiful,” she whispered, echoing his reverence.

  His gaze intense, he stretched over her. She spread her legs, wanting, him, needing to feel him inside her. He pressed into her, his body filling hers. She cried out, wrapping her legs around his waist. He ignited a fire deep within her that quickly spread to her heart as she lost herself to his every thrust. She clung to him, her body desperate with desire, need, climbing, wanting, aching. She cried out as tremors coursed through her. His own cry of pleasure reached her ears. They soared, raw, passionate. And together, they found their release.

  Chapter Nine

  She woke up and felt the bed next to her.

  It was cold.

  Her smile vanished. She opened her eyes. Soft morning light slanted through the gap in her sheer ivory curtains. Sitting up, her heart felt compressed by the silence of her empty house.

  Falling back onto her pillow, she grabbed the one next to her and smooshed it over her face, but then she breathed in Damien’s scent.

  “Damn it!” She threw the pillow across the room.

  Tears stung her eyes. “No!” She shook her head, refusing to shed even one.

  Sitting up, she threw the covers off and made herself stand, or else she probably wouldn’t get up for the next week. She’d hide under her soft duvet and cry him away. Standing, she crossed to her dresser and slipped on a pair of white cotton panties and a white tank top—at least she could dress the part of an innocent, instead of a pathetic rule-breaker.

  Looking in the mirror, she shook her head.

  She had double-crossed herself and let a man into her life who could have held up a sign that read ‘I will break your heart.’

  “I’m changing my name,” she said out loud.

  “I love your name. Why would you change it?”

  She whirled around.

  Damien was standing in the doorway to her bedroom, holding a drink caddy with two to-go cups and a white paper bag.

  In that moment, the emotion she’d been holding back pushed it’s way up her throat as a knot she couldn’t swallow down. Tears flooded her eyes. She whirled away from him and silenced the sob of surprise and disbelief by pressing her hand over her mouth.

  In a breath, he was at her side. His hand gently rested at her waist. “Was coffee a bad idea?” he asked softly.

  She turned and shook her head, swallowing hard. “Coffee was a brilliant idea.”

  He held up the bag. “And éclairs.”

  She smiled, nodding her approval.

  “I noticed you have a balcony,” he said, pointing to the sliding door.

  “A balcony, yes,” she said, her heart and mind still trying to catch up to the fact that he hadn’t discarded her. “A view, definitely not.”

  He cupped her cheek. “I have all the scenery I need, right here.”

  She blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Let me grab my robe.”

  After she wrapped her cotton robe around her waist and slipped on her flip flops, she followed him out the door onto the balcony.

  He chuckled. “You weren’t kidding about the view.”

  Below them was the back parking lot to a set of condos on the right and a small Chinese takeout on the left. Beyond that, there were rows of cottages and small streets until, in the distance, the strip of sand and ocean could at last be seen.

  “The restaurant’s dumpsters are never going to be the subject of a great still life, but their egg rolls are really good.”

  He inhaled deeply. “Smells good.” He shifted his gaze back to her. “How long do I have you for?”

  Her stomach flipped. Forever. She cleared her throat. “What do you mean
?”

  He pulled her chair closer to him. “I mean, what time do you have to go into work?”

  “I have the day off.”

  He gave her a skeptical look. “You get those?”

  “Well, my boss got home last night.”

  “Ah, yes, Joe Wilder returned on Virgin flight 528 last night from England.”

  “How do you know all that?”

  “I do my research before I rob someone.”

  She closed her eyes against the pummeling of reality that struck straight through her heart. The gorgeous, funny, coffee-bringing, hottest sex-ever guy sitting next to her was still a criminal.

  “Talking about my work makes you uncomfortable,” he said, his face unreadable.

  “Well...you are a thief.”

  He lifted his shoulders. “Technically, I’m not.”

  She flashed him a quizzical look. “Come again?”

  “The person who hires me is the thief. For me, it’s just a job. I don’t possess anything that isn’t mine.”

  “But your...er...customers pay you.”

  He nodded. “They do.”

  “So then it’s kind of like you steal an item, then sell it to your client.”

  He shrugged, a smile playing at his lips. “I never said there weren’t any holes in my logic.” He leaned closer and took her hand. “I can see I’m making you uncomfortable. Maybe we shouldn’t talk about work. Why don’t you tell me about your family?”

  She dropped her head.

  “Was that a bad question?”

  She took a deep breath. “I’ll give you the cliff notes, then let’s just move on. I’m an only child. My parents died in a car accident when I was eighteen, the summer after I graduated from high school. My mom’s mother is still alive.” She smiled. “My Nonna. I used to take care of her, but she’s in decline now and has around-the-clock nursing. But she’s it, my only family. She’s everything to me.” Before he could respond, she blurted. “So, what about your family?”

  She was relieved that he took the hint. She didn’t want to talk about her family. It would only lead to crying and she had no wish to turn into a snotty mess.

  He shrugged. “You know, your typical all-American family. I have a younger sister. She’s married and has two kids. My parents live in a small town in Indiana.”

  “Do they know what you do?”

  He smiled. “What do you think?”

  “So how does a boy from a typical all-American family become a thief-for-hire.”

  Again that sideways smile assaulted her senses. “It’s what I’m good at.”

  “Come on,” she said, raising a skeptical brow. “You’ve got to give me something more concrete than that.”

  His nostrils flared a little, and he gave her an assessing look. “Fair enough.” He cleared his throat. “After high school, I joined the army. In the midst of war, I quickly moved up the ranks and became a military intelligence soldier. I was honorably discharged two years ago.”

  She canted her head to the side as she studied him. “So you started out good but...what happened?”

  His eyes became hard; his whole body tensed. “When I was in the army I did things I know were good.” A shadow fell across his face. “I also did things I was told were good, but looking back on it...” He shook his head and expelled a long breath. His face softened. “There aren’t good guys and bad guys, Savannah.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean everyone has the capacity for good, for selfless nobility, for heroism.” He raised his shoulders. “But we can all be cruel and self-serving—there are no exceptions. We are all too human.”

  “So then, you think there’s a little good and a little bad in everyone.”

  “I know there is.”

  She wanted to ask him why he gave up. Why he stopped striving for good, letting the bad win out. But she stopped herself. What right did she have? She could only imagine the horrors of war, when he had lived them. And clearly, he continued to live it through regret. Instead she asked, “So, do you just rob anyone?”

  He shook his head, his expression lightening. “Let’s just say, I deal in high-end exchanges.”

  “So rich people stealing stuff from other rich people.”

  “Exactly.”

  “What were you going to steal from my boss?”

  A little smile played at his lips. “It’s better for you, if we just gloss right over that.” He cleared his throat and gestured toward the sliding door behind them. “Do you want to head back in. I think the exhaust is getting to me.”

  She smiled. “Are you sure? If we hang out for a while longer, we might see a drug deal or someone take a leak.”

  “Tempting—”

  “Look,” she said, pointing to a truck that just came into view, pulling a sail boat towards the beach. In between cottages, she glimpsed the gleaming wood and shiny metal. “One day, I will have one of those.”

  “What would you call it?”

  “Working Girl,” she said and smiled at him.

  “Working Girl,” he repeated as if tasting the name. “I like that.”

  She looked with longing at the sail as it disappeared from view. “One day,” she murmured again.

  He smiled at her. “That’s definitely going on my list.”

  She looked at him curiously. “What list?”

  “My list of things you love.”

  She smiled. “I truly do. I grew up sailing.” Memories of her youth flooded her heart. “My parents used to take me every weekend in the summer. We had a boat mooring in Portsmouth.” She blushed. “I used to race, you know.”

  He leaned in. “Did you win any?”

  She smiled. “I’ve won my share of regattas.” Her smile faltered like it always did when she remembered those days. During her senior year of high school, she was offered a sailing scholarship...but then her parents died...

  She shook her head to chase her thoughts away and stood up. “Now what would you like to do?”

  He set his coffee on the balcony floor before he stood. Then he met her gaze, his amber eyes held a hungry glint. He grasped the bottom of the coffee cup she held. “Have you had enough?”

  Her heart started racing as a slow smile curved one side of his mouth. “Yes,” she answered.

  He took her cup and set it beside his, his burning gaze never leaving hers. “I haven’t,” he rasped. Then he scooped her into his arms. She squealed as he carried her back inside and gently eased her on the bed.

  She looked up at him. “I can’t think of a better way to spend my first day off in nearly two weeks, then to make love to you all day.”

  His sideways smiled curled her toes. “I am going to kiss every inch of you, again and again.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Make sure you let me have a turn, because I want to taste all you.” She pressed herself against his hard length. “All of you.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Hey, Savannah, check me out, girl!”

  “Hold on...almost there.” Savannah finished pouring a shot of tequila before she glanced over at Roger, her usual partner in crime on Friday and Saturday nights.

  Roger grabbed the bottle of near empty coconut rum by the neck and snapped it out, away from his body. It did one rotation in the air before falling back into his hand, perfectly positioned to pour.

  She smiled. “You’ve been practicing. Well done.”

  Roger flashed her his megawatt smile. “Nothing to it,” he said as he seized the top-shelf vodka.

  “No,” she called out but was too late. Roger snapped the bottle. It didn’t fly. Instead, it thudded to the ground on the rubber floor-mat.

  “The trick doesn’t work on full bottles,” she reminded him.

  He bent down and picked it off the floor. “This does,” he said, tossing the bottle high in the air, then spun around, his lean muscular body on exquisite display in his fitted Cove T-shirt. Without looking up, he caught the bottle and poured.

  “N
ice,” she said.

  He gave her his best bitch face. “That’s it? That’s all I get?”

  “What more do you want from me?”

  Roger smiled. “For now, your undying devotion, but in a little while the new guy I told you about is coming in. I need you to talk me up. Tell him how wonderful I am. Tell him this place couldn’t function without me.”

  “Roger, you work two shifts,” Savannah said dryly.

  “Two important shifts,” he shot back.

  She had to concede on that point. “Yeah, but where were you this last week when I really needed you?”

  Roger turned away, placing the cocktail on the bar in front of a striking woman with pale skin, shiny, long red hair and a black fitted top. Her gaze was fixed on the door. “Here you go,” Roger said, drawing the woman’s attention. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as she said thank you and took a sip before she once again shifted her gaze to the door.

  “She’s being stood up,” Savannah said under her breath. Then in her normal voice she continued, “Just like you stood me up this week.”

  He arched a brow at her. “I’m in school all week, remember?”

  She stuck out a pouty lip. “I know, but I missed you. I had to deal with Skeevie Stevie all on my own.”

  “That guy is still coming around?”

  “Yeah and his vibe has not improved.”

  “Well, I can make you one promise—this weekend will be an improvement over last week.” His breathtaking smile once more filled his face. “Roger’s here, baby.”

  She took a deep breath, letting relief wash over her. No one kept a cool head like Roger, not even her. No matter how busy they were, he never got in the weeds. If she could have him on the fulltime staff list, she would, but he was a business major at the University of New Hampshire, doing an accelerated program on a full scholarship. He didn’t need the money he made at The Cove, but he liked to have fun—just not too much. So, he bartended on the weekend to keep himself out of trouble. Savannah couldn’t help but admire his self-control.