Rule Number One (Rule Breakers Book 1)

by Nicky Shanks

  “Sure.” She nods and rubs her temples. “Oh, shoot. I forgot ibuprofen when I packed earlier…do you think there’s some inside?”

  “Hey, you want to get into the hot tub?” Harley asks her. “It does wonders for headaches.”

  “Yeah, I’ll go start it—you should join us,” Victor adds.

  Julie brushes them off and starts to stand up, taking my plate in her free hand. I growl at them and then glance at Julie, who stifles a laugh and picks up her plate too. “No thanks, guys.” She faintly smiles and then without even looking at me, walks the dishes into the house and leaves the three of us in silence.

  “Dude, if you want to fuck her, just say so,” Harley whispers. “You don’t have to act like a little bitch.”

  “I don’t want to fuck her,” I blurt. I try to lower my voice so she can’t hear me from inside the house. “Quit being little creeps.”

  They look at each other in disgust. “We aren’t creepy.”

  We hear dishes clanking in the kitchen. “Yeah, you are,” Julie says loudly through the open patio doors. I raise my eyebrows at the twins and cock my head like, See? I told you so. I leave them arguing with each other and join her in the kitchen, but she’s already left to go back upstairs. My heart sinks a little. I wanted to share that victory with her.

  When I get to the bedroom, she’s bent over, rummaging through a smaller backpack. “Oh, sorry.” She blushes and sits down on the bed when she notices I’ve come into the room. “You wanted to take a shower? You can go ahead; I have to find my toothbrush anyway.”

  I have to force myself not to pick her up and take her into the shower with me. I grunt and mumble something that even I don’t comprehend, but she doesn’t bother to even look up at me. Her honey hair is loose now—she’d taken out her braid and the soft waves frame her body. As she sifts through her bag, I watch her carefully. I don’t want her to know, so I pretend to be going through my suitcase for clothes.

  “We can get you another one if you forgot it,” I say. “I have to go into town later this week.”

  Julie smiles at me and holds up her purple toothbrush. “Again, sweet of you, but I found it.”

  Sweet. You’re so sweet, Oliver.

  I don’t want to be sweet.

  I wait as she slips in to brush her teeth and smile innocently when she returns. “All yours.” I find so much pleasure in those two words that it’s hard to keep calm.

  “I’m going to shower now,” I flatly say and leave the room. I have to go before my body totally explodes and I do something I’ll probably regret later. When I stand in the shower, the hot water rushing over me, my mind goes back to Heather.

  Talk about someone who I thought was perfect in every single way. Her jet-black hair shimmered when we showered together, and her lips are thin and powerful, making her smile light up the room. I start to get aroused, so I turn the heat down a little bit, letting the cooler water wash over me and help settle me down.

  There’s a small knock on the door. “Oliver?”

  Shit. It’s Julie. And I’m hard as hell.

  “Ye-yeah?” My voice cracks so I allow water from the shower to loosen it. “What’s wrong?”

  The door opens and she lets cold air into the room. I hear her walk toward the shower. I really hope she’s going to open the door and get in with me, but instead she lifts up the toilet lid and stands facing away from me like she could see through the glass. I smile and wonder if she can.

  “I have to pee and Staci is in the hallway bathroom losing her pink wine,” she says. “Don’t look.”

  I scoff and decide not to tell her about the other two bathrooms inside the house. “Not my thing, baby.”

  She says nothing, and I hear her feet shuffling around. I know she can see my silhouette through the frosted glass of the large shower. I smile at the thought of her sitting across from me, watching me and wondering what I look like on the other side.

  The room is silent until I hear her clear her throat in the awkward air. Suddenly I realize that if she pushes the lever down, my world is gonna be on fire. Before I can say anything, she flushes the toilet and I dance around the scalding hot water until I feel the cool breeze of the door opening and then closing. I quickly jump out of the heat and hop around the steamy bathroom.

  I blow out hard. That was too fucking close.

  The door opens suddenly and the cold air hits my naked body. Julie and I both freeze in place. Her eyes widen and she quickly fixes her gaze on mine. Embarrassed, she covers her eyes and squeaks, trying to run from the bathroom—but she runs into the wall instead. Her head makes a loud thump against the hard surface.

  I spring into action, twirling her body around and moving her hands from her eyes so I can inspect her head for damage.

  “Y-You’re naked!” she squeaks. “Naked and I just burst in here—”

  She’s right.

  I am still naked.

  I immediately reach for my towel and wrap it around my lower half, almost definitely too late because I catch her glimpsing down there. Her face brightens, then almost immediately falls. “I-I’m going to change while you finish your shower,” she says as she quickly leaves the room.

  I stand in confusion for a moment. What the hell was that? Something switched inside her head—something put her off of me—and I don’t think I like it. I return to the shower to think about what just happened and where I went wrong.

  You’re falling for someone you hardly know.

  That’s where you went wrong.

  Chapter Four

  Julie

  He.

  Is.

  Naked.

  So very naked.

  My insides are squirming with pleasure as I stand in front of Oliver in the steamy bathroom, his…everything…just out there for me to see. This guy irritates me more than anyone ever has, and here he is, his huge muscles and huge—well—and I can probably reach out and touch if I want to.

  Do I want to?

  Yes!

  But I don’t dare move a single inch to give him any indication that I want to touch him. That’s what a normal person would do in this situation, but that’s not me. Staci would have jumped on his naked, wet body and rubbed herself like soap against his skin. Me? No, I cover my eyes like a little schoolgirl and apologize, then try to run and flee from the bathroom. I can’t see where I’m going and run into the wall, bumping my forehead against it with a loud, hard smack. I feel the breeze change around me and a pair of rough hands twirl me around, but I won’t let go of my eyes because if I can’t see it, then it isn’t real. “Are you okay?” Oliver asks me. I can smell the musky scent of his body wash and he brushes my hands away from my eyes.

  I freeze at his touch.

  “Y-You’re naked,” I stutter. “Naked and I just burst in here—”

  I watch him grab for a towel immediately and wrap it around his lower half. I drop my gaze to the towel and then slowly move my eyes up his body. Droplets of water race from his hard chest and broad shoulders down to his stomach. Oliver towers over me—he could swallow me up if he wanted to, and I whimper silently under his hard, green-eyed glare. I can’t tell if my mouth is open or not. I want him to devour my mouth with his; I want him to push me against the wall and just do whatever he damn well pleases, but instead, I think about Brandon and my body cools off almost instantly.

  Oh, crap. What a mood killer.

  I paste a weird smile on my face and make some odd remark just to get out of here. “I’m going to change while you finish your shower,” I say and immediately leave the room, shutting the door behind me. I hold my breath, careful not to make a sound until I eventually hear him slide the shower door open and step back in.

  What’s wrong with me? It couldn’t have been any easier for me than in that moment. I could’ve had him with almost no effort if I’d really wanted.

  No, not me—I’m not the type of person who takes chances like that anymore.

  Quickly changing, I choose the lea
st sexy pajamas I brought with me: black leggings and an old t-shirt of Brandon’s with some rock band’s logo on it. I have to make sure I am in the bed before Oliver is…I want to get into a good sleeping position facing away from him as fast as I can so I don’t have to look at him again after what just happened.

  Oh, crap.

  I forgot to light the fireplace.

  I jump out of bed and find some fireplace matches on the mantle. I light one and throw it inside before shutting the gate and watching the ember grow slowly on the neatly stacked logs. I hear some rustling in the bathroom, so I race back to the bed and snuggle into my warm spot, which just happens to be facing the bathroom door that Oliver is now coming out of, towel around his waist and his hard, lean body displayed for me to see.

  “Sorry, forgot to take clothes in with me,” he says, opening his suitcase and pulling out some sweatpants and a light blue V-neck t-shirt. He’s combed his shaggy dark hair back and his lips are light pink from brushing his teeth. I touch my mouth as he looks over at me, and the smile on his face fades into a frown. He throws his towel into a large, wicker laundry basket and looks back toward me.

  It takes me a few seconds before I finally realize I’m watching him. No…I’m studying him. My eyes lower to the perfect lines of his naked ass and it makes me blush that he notices my gaze hovering over it, but I…can’t…look away. Uh, wow.

  “You like what you see?” he asks, his emerald eyes burning into mine. He can trigger every nerve in my body with the way his gaze meets mine and washes all the bad feelings away. “I can show you a lot more than this if you really want to see something amazing.”

  I chuckle nervously. “No, thanks.”

  Oliver’s thick lips curve and he bites his cheek. “Are you sure? It can be our little secret; I won’t tell anyone that you secretly dream about me.” Even his whisper jolts my insides, and he laughs when a shiver down my spine rocks me to my very core. “So, are we both sleeping in the bed, then?” His words are slow and drawn out as he examines me lying near the edge of the mattress. “I can sleep downstairs if it bothers you, you know…sleeping in a bed with a strange man and all. I wouldn’t want anyone to think my intentions with you are less than honorable.”

  I know he hears me gulp.

  “Just keep your hands to yourself and it’ll be fine,” I tell him, only half-serious, but the desire drips from my tongue. The bed moves underneath his weight as he slides his warm body under the comforter, dangerously close to mine. My mind starts to spin a little too fast. I think seriously about inching my body back a few centimeters, but decide it’d be too obvious that I’m trying to get away from him.

  Oliver turns his body to face mine, but I don’t do the same. There isn’t anything for me back there. “So, who’s the kid?”

  “What kid?”

  “That redheaded kid—is he your son?”

  I laugh. “Oh, Clyde? No, he’s my nephew.”

  “Oh, does he live with you?”

  I finally give in and turn to face him. Is he trying to get to know me? The fire snaps and crackles, making the cool lake air coming in through the open window warm around us. “No, I live with him—and my brother, Randy. He’s a detective for the Rockford PD.” Even with the lights off, I can see his big eyes looking at mine, and he smiles when he catches me looking at him for too long. He knows that he’s slayed me already; I just don’t know how my mess of a self will be able to handle it when he makes a move.

  “So, are you in college, then? You’re twenty-two, so shouldn’t you be graduating soon?”

  My eyes narrow. “No, I never had the chance to go. I worked right out of high school.”

  He grunts. “That’s a shame. But you have a job?”

  “Not anymore. I lost it when I moved in with Randy to get away from—”

  “You don’t have to finish that sentence.” His voice is rough, but he looks conflicted.

  “What’s with all of the questions?” I snap and roll my eyes, trying to push annoyance on him instead of desire. “Are you writing a story about me?”

  Oliver laughs and it feels like warm syrup down my throat on Christmas morning. “That depends. What am I in your story?”

  I swear I don’t mean to literally gulp aloud for the millionth time. I know it’s showing my hand every time, and I know that my face is beet red from blushing too. What’s happening here? I try to catch my breath, but at the risk of being too obvious, my breathing becomes raspy and shallow as I catch a whiff of his woodsy scent and my brain almost melts. Breathing Oliver in must be like what the forest smells like after a microburst of afternoon rain.

  “I guess we’re friends,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat before it chokes me and I need mouth to mouth.

  Oliver doesn’t look amused. “You guess we’re friends?”

  “I just met you today.” I laugh, and I can see that I’ve hurt his feelings. “We aren’t really even friends.”

  Now I’ve really hurt his feelings. His expression darkens.

  “What about you?” I blurt out, trying to keep the conversation light. “College, job?” I say when I see confusion in his eyes. He smiles a little; it seems like he can feel the need to change the subject too.

  “I graduated from NYU a few years ago. Then my grandfather died and he left me some money. I haven’t exactly been worried about finding a job yet.”

  His answer is so matter-of-fact, it sounds rehearsed. I think of other ways I can get to know him without stirring up his manhood—or thinking about his naked, juicy ass.

  Oliver’s eyes wander over the parts of my body that aren’t covered up by the blanket we share. A few inches closer and our bodies will be touching, but I won’t allow myself to do that.

  I think about Brandon again.

  That always kills the mood.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” His voice cuts through the darkness.

  I gulp again, a little softer this time. “Not anymore.”

  “Oh, what happened? Bad breakup?”

  I say nothing and hope he just lets it go.

  “Me too.” He sighs. “Mine was sleeping with her sister’s husband.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “She cheated on you?”

  He chuckles, which turns into an even weaker laugh. “Several times. In my bed. Why—you don’t think someone like me can be cheated on?”

  “It’s hard to imagine.” I turn away from him, hiding my face so he can’t see the embarrassment. He doesn’t say anything at first—he just lets me lie with him in the darkness while our thoughts race through the room, surrounding each other and picking fights about who was the worst at showing their hearts underneath all their locks and chains.

  Oliver sighs and I can feel him inch toward me. “Hey, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, I’m just tired.” I shiver from a deep yawn. He gives me a few more inches of his side of the blanket and lets me drift off to sleep, drunk off my own terrible thoughts. It doesn’t even seem like I’ve fallen asleep when a noise outside wakes me and I stare into the pitch-black bedroom, listening to Oliver lightly snore next to me.

  I can’t believe how easy and safe it feels to be next to him.

  I smile and shift my weight to get a better look at him in the moonlight. His eyelashes touch his cheeks and when he exhales, the strands of hair that had fallen in his face look like feathers in the wind. I can see his perfect teeth when he opens his mouth for a moment, but his full lips hide them quite well. He has some stubble on his face, but I imagine the scratchy whiskers brushing against my face and I have to press my legs together without moving the bed too much.

  Suddenly, his snoring stops and he adjusts himself, so I gently roll away from him, but somehow, in his attempt to find comfort, he brushes against my arm and then it’s like a magnet. I squeeze my eyes shut, careful not to show that I’m awake as his warm, rough hand slides down my side and finds the curve of my waist, squeezing it gently before resting there.

  I don’t move.
/>   I can’t move.

  I don’t want to move.

  I let him lie with me like that for a few minutes until he groans in his sleep and mumbles something. I don’t much care to even listen because if I move an inch on my own, it could all be over. I like his outdoorsy smell and how it surrounds my entire body.

  His body stirs as his muscular arm slides around my stomach and tightens its grip. He flexes and pulls me into him, burying his face in my hair. My chest burns as he tucks me into his warm cocoon, softly moaning into the thick mess of my hair. He nuzzles his face against it.

  “You smell so damn good,” he whispers.

  Wait, is he awake?

  His soft snoring starts again, and I realize he’s talking in his sleep. Okay…I’m safe. His grip around my body is so tight it’s paralyzing. I can’t move…not that I want to, really. I nestle my head into the pillow and close my eyes.

  ***

  I must have dozed off again listening to his heavy breathing, because next thing I know I’m smelling cookies baking and I’m in a completely different place than a dark bedroom. The kitchen is huge—it has everything I could ever want to use for baking, wrapped up in one room.

  I smile.

  “Are they almost ready?” someone asks.

  I sniff the air. “Almost.”

  Two arms pull me backward into a warm body and wrap themselves around my waist, giving it a squeeze. “Good,” the voice whispers in my ear.

  I lose control of my neck first—he brushes my hair to the side and kisses the tender part of it, his hot breath on my skin.

  “I love you, Jules.”

  Brandon? I whip around.

  Brandon. I must be dreaming. I have to be.

  “What are you doing here?” I snap at him. “Get out.”