Breaker's Point Bad Boy Billionaires Boxset

by Morgan, M. G.

  She let out a long sigh and returned her gaze to the smooth talker who still sat on the floor, his hands raised above his head. Blood trickled from the side of his mouth and dripped down onto his dark shirt.

  Cami let her stance relax, easing her finger off the trigger before sliding the safety catch back into place. She turned away from the guy on the floor and headed back to the bar, returning the shotgun to its hiding place once more and ignoring the whispered conversations starting to fill the silence.

  "Are you all right?" Smooth talker's voice seemed far too close for comfort. Cami spun around and found herself face to face with his broad chest.

  She took a small step backwards, a half smile crossing her lips as she lifted her gaze to the bruises that were beginning to bloom across his face.

  "I could ask you the same thing. I'm pretty sure I fared better in all of this than you did."

  He grinned and rubbed his chin, his smile wilting as his fingers came away from his face bloodied.

  "Son of a bitch, I'm going to kick his ass when I see him again."

  "Yeah, you were doing such a stellar job that round two is definitely a good idea," Cami said, sarcasm giving her voice an edge.

  Hurt flashed through the smooth talker's eyes, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared. Cami found herself wondering if she'd even really seen it at all. Perhaps it was just her imagination.

  "Well, Spike is a wily bastard. Look, I'm really sorry about all of this. I don't know what he was thinking."

  Cami nodded and slipped behind the bar, heading for the mop and bucket while moving carefully over the broken glass and sticky alcohol that covered the floor.

  "Assholes don't think, which tends to be their biggest issue…" She trailed off and chewed her lip as she shot a glance back over her shoulder to where he stood.

  His bravado had slipped and there was something innocent and vulnerable in its place. It seemed ridiculous that a guy like him would even have a vulnerable side, but a rawness that only real hurt could create was there in his eyes.

  "Look, thanks about earlier. I owe you one." The words slipped out before she had the chance to stop them.

  What the hell was she thinking? That was the last thing she should say to him. The very worst thing she could do was owe him anything. Life was already complicated enough without adding to her issues.

  He lifted his gaze to hers, his expression instantly changing. The vulnerability she had just witnessed melted away, replaced once more by the smooth-talking charmer he had been earlier.

  "That's a dangerous thing to promise."

  Cami sighed and shook her head as she stepped into the back room and grabbed the mop and bucket.

  "I didn't promise anything; I just thanked you. I was being polite, nothing more and nothing less. Didn't your mother teach you the meaning of manners?"

  He shrugged and smiled, an award-winning grin that sent a shiver of desire racing down through Cami's spine.

  "Well, in exchange for saving you, I have just one request," he said, his smile widening to reveal a dimple in his right cheek.

  Cami rolled her eyes, but it was more an attempt to drag her gaze away from his hypnotic eyes.

  "What?" She could already imagine what he was going to ask of her, and she had the perfect answer sitting pretty on the tip of her tongue.

  "Please don't make me drink any more of that foul cheap ass whiskey you were giving me earlier."

  Cami had been so certain that she'd known what he was going to ask that his actual request rendered her speechless. His expression was so earnest that she found it practically impossible to work out just how serious he was being.

  He started to laugh, his earnest expression giving way to one of pure joy, and Cami found it impossible to ignore such infectious emotion. Laughter bubbled out of her, stealing her breath and forcing her to double over and grip the handle of the mop tightly, just so she could stay on her feet.

  "Fine, no more of the cheap nasty," she said, finally recovering long enough to catch her breath and give him an answer. "I'm Cami, by the way."

  "Griffin." He smiled and gestured to the mop in her hands, his smile brightening his eyes and making him look younger than he had when he'd first strolled in to the bar. "Want me to give you a hand with that?"

  Cami shook her head and gave the floor a half-hearted rub with the mop head, the glass tinkling across the tile.

  "Nah, it's fine. I'm used to cleaning up breaks and spills. I wasn't always the proficient bartender you see standing before you today."

  Griffin grinned again and slid onto the barstool he'd vacated when the fight broke out.

  Cami let the mop drop against the counter and reached below the bar for a fresh towel. Holding it in the palm of her hand, she quickly filled it with a handful of ice straight from the bucket and wrapped it in the cloth before handing it to him.

  "You're going to need to do something about that or the swelling is going to be unbearable in the morning."

  He took the cloth and pressed it gingerly against the side of his face. Cami suppressed a smile as he winced.

  "So are you going to tell me why you're here, Griffin, causing trouble in my bar instead of off doing something famous people do?"

  "Can't famous people cause trouble in small bars?"

  "Not unless there's a camera to catch it all," Cami said, grabbing the mop once more and beginning to scrub the floor in earnest. Her back ached and the alcohol was still stinging the little cuts that decorated the sides of her hands.

  It was going to be one hell of a job to make sure that all the little splinters were properly removed, but a trip to the emergency room was strictly out of the question.

  "No offence, but I didn't chose the bar. Spike did."

  "Spike's the asshole who attacked me?"

  Griffin nodded, his face turning serious as his green eyes swept down over her body. Cami couldn't help the heat that spread up her neck and into her face as his gaze lingered on her a little longer than was necessary.

  "Are you sure you don't want me to do that?" he asked, pushing himself up to his feet.

  Cami shook her head once more and repositioned the mop in her hands before letting out a small yelp as a shard of glass bit into the side of her palm.

  Griffin hurried around the bar before she could properly react, his hand taking the mop away as he lifted her arm and studied the small cuts and scrapes that dotted her skin.

  Cami tried to draw away from his grip. His body was close—too close—and she could practically feel the heat rising from his skin. Heat that was beginning to scorch through her clothes and tingle along her body.

  "Stop moving or you're only going to drive the splinters in deeper," Griffin said, his voice low and his breath whispering against her skin as he bent over her.

  "It's fine, really, it's nothing…" Cami trailed off and bit down on her lip to suppress a whimper of pain as he pinched his fingers against her palm.

  He straightened up to reveal a short splice down the side of Cami's hand and a long razor-sharp splinter of glass held between his fingers.

  "You've got a few more but I think I've gotten the worst offender."

  "Thanks," Cami said, trying to draw her hand out of his, but he held on to her, his fingers tightening around her wrist almost imperceptibly.

  He looked up into her face, his green eyes darkening, and Cami felt her heart stuttering in her chest as he leaned in towards her.

  He was going to kiss her. She could see the intention written in his eyes, and for a moment she found herself wanting to give in, to sway against him as his lips found hers.

  Sophie.

  The name popped unbidden into Cami's head and she jerked back, away from Griffin's reach. The look of surprise on his face filling her with regret for what could never be.

  "I'm sorry, I just…" She turned away and headed for the door that led to the back room behind the bar.

  "Cami, wait…" he called out to her, and the excitement that had zipp
ed through her body just seconds before begged her to turn around and go back to him.

  Instead, she pushed open the door and slipped through it, the darkness of the room engulfing her as she shut it behind her and pressed her back against it.

  Griffin knocked, his voice calling out to her, asking to know what he'd done wrong. Asking questions Cami couldn't answer. She couldn't explain it to him. Even if she could, he would never understand.

  No, all she could do was wait for him to give up and walk away.

  Griffin Reynolds was a risk, a risk Cami couldn't afford to take no matter how much her body begged her to, no matter how much her heart yearned for it.

  She'd fought too hard for everything she'd achieved. Whether he would mean to or not, Griffin was the type of man who could bring it all tumbling down around her ears far too easily with his brilliant green eyes and electric touch.

  Chapter 3

  As he watched her flee into the back room, Griffin wondered what the hell he'd done to send her running for the hills. It wasn't that she wasn't interested; he'd seen the look in her eyes, the way her body had responded to his touch.

  And yet here he was, standing outside a locked door, scratching his head and wondering where he'd gone so wrong.

  "Cami, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. You can come out now. I promise to keep my distance." He forced a lighter note into his voice, hoping it might help her to loosen up a little.

  But when there was no reply, Griffin sighed and pushed his hand back through his hair before turning away from the door.

  There was no point in continuing to try and coax her out. Whatever was going on in her head wasn't going to be made any better by him begging.

  Stepping out the other side of the bar, he saw Max waving to him from a small table at the back of the room. The drummer appeared more than a little worse for wear, and Griffin had a sinking feeling that Spike hadn't been the only one partaking in vices he shouldn't have.

  Approaching the group, Griffin's heart sank as he spotted the packet of pills sitting in the centre of the beer-soaked table.

  "Griff, man, why so long to come and see your buds?" Max's voice was slurred.

  "I've been a little busy, something you might have noticed if you weren't so intent on getting off your face."

  "You and Spike were at it again. You two really need to take a chill pill and let your differences go." Max grinned up at him, his brown eyes glazed over.

  Griffin knew that if the cops walked in the door they'd arrest Max and anyone else who happened to be in his general vicinity.

  A girl Griffin didn't recognise leaned over towards Max, grabbing his chin and forcing her tongue down his throat. It was nothing out of the ordinary.

  "Pull up a seat; there's more than enough to go around," Tom piped up, the smile on his face indicating he wasn't just referring to the alcohol and drugs.

  "We should really get out of here, and for God's sake hide your bag of pills, Tom," Griffin said, reaching across the table and chucking the small baggie at the bassist. Tom watched him with an amused smile curling the corners of his lips.

  "Not mine. Spike brought them, reckoning we needed to unwind, and he was right," Tom said, leaning back against the leather seat of the booth.

  "I'm Leslie." Slender arms wrapped around Griffin's neck and a girl with long dark hair pressed up against his chest. "I just love your music, the way you sing and handle that guitar of yours…" She shivered and, for the first time in his life, Griffin felt ashamed.

  Leslie was exactly his type: pretty and willing. Except as far as he was concerned he'd already set his sights on someone else, someone far more enticing than the brunette who was trying to crawl up the front of him.

  "I'm sure you do and thank you, but…" Griffin didn't get the chance to finish his sentence as Leslie drew his face down to hers for a wet kiss, her hand sliding inside the waistband of his jeans.

  Griffin jerked back, trying to extricate himself from her grip, but her hand was still jammed down his pants. For such a little thing, she was surprisingly difficult to escape from. Short of dumping her on her ass, Griffin found himself struggling to find a polite way to get out of her sticky grip.

  "Leslie, I'm really not interested…"

  "Sure you are," she said as her fingers found him again, one long nail sliding down the length of his shaft with just enough pressure to make it uncomfortable.

  Griffin grabbed her arm, bringing her attempts to jerk him off to an abrupt halt.

  "I said, I'm really not interested." His voice dropped low.

  She stared up at him, her brown eyes slightly unfocused, and then she did something Griffin had not been expecting.

  Fat tears welled up within her eyes, coating the edge of her dark lashes. Her bottom lip wobbled from a moment before she started to wail.

  Griffin stared down at her in shock. The sound of her sobs rapidly drew the attention of the other people gathered in the bar.

  Leslie flopped against his chest, forcing Griffin to wrap his arms around her and hold her upright; it was either that or letting her slide to the floor at his feet.

  Glancing around him, Griffin caught Tom's eye; the other man made a crazy gesture back at him before smiling. Griffin groaned and looked back up in the direction of the bar, only to find himself pinned in place by a pair of intense green eyes.

  The look of disgust on Cami's face left him reeling. He fought the overwhelming urge to immediately explain to her that it wasn't how it looked.

  But what did it even matter? He'd only just met Cami, and she'd made it perfectly clear that she didn't want anything to do with him.

  Dragging his gaze away from her disapproving glare, Griffin returned his attention to the young woman who was still clinging and sobbing against his chest.

  "Leslie, please stop crying. I'm sorry, it's just that I'm no good for you right now. You deserve so much better than this." Griffin walked her backwards until her feet bumped into the base of the booth.

  Working quickly, he untangled the grip she'd managed to get on his shirt and let her drop back onto the seat.

  She tried to grab at him again but Griffin blocked her attempts.

  "But-I-just-love-you-all-so-much-and-now-you're-rejecting-me-and-I-thought-if-you-could-just-meet-me-then-you'd-want-me!" Her words were little more than a jumbled mess and Griffin fought to understand what she was trying to say between the sobs.

  The girl who had been shoving her tongue down Max's throat just moments ago turned on the sobbing Leslie.

  "Just shut up, Les, for God's sake. Stop trying to ruin it for me. If he don't want you then try the other."

  Griffin shook his head and turned away as Leslie seemed to take her friend’s words on board. She scrubbed her hands across her face in a drunken attempt to clean up the worst of her smudged makeup.

  Griffin scanned the bar area for any signs of Cami but found none. She'd probably scampered into the back room once more. He tried to console himself with the thought, she was probably just restocking the bar but deep down Griffin knew it wasn't true. The look he'd seen on her face had been enough to tell him exactly what she had been thinking. And whatever she might have thought about him before, he knew for certain that now she despised him.

  Moving away from the table where his bandmates were gathered, Griffin headed back to the bar and grabbed the bottle of foul whiskey Cami had poured for him earlier. He poured himself a generous tumbler before quickly knocking it back, the liquid immediately burning and souring his stomach lining.

  Serves you right. Griffin tried to shrug off the cruel words from his conscience. It probably did serve him right, but he didn't have to admit it to himself. He could just do the same thing he'd always done and bury his head in the sand.

  Griffin's phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. Spike's name flashed across the screen and he contemplated letting it go to voicemail. The man was clearly an idiot; if he wanted to continuously get himself into trouble deeper than he could
handle, then it was his own problem. Not Griffin’s.

  Griffin groaned and jabbed his thumb against the button to answer the call before lifting the phone to his ear.

  Chapter 4

  Leaning against the door that led back out into the bar, Cami tried to block out the sound of Griffin's voice. He was a complication she didn't need or want, and yet her body had almost persuaded her that having just a little taste was a good idea.

  She sucked in a deep breath and tried to count to ten. When that failed, she found herself counting to one hundred.

  She was greeted by nothing more than the muted sounds of the bar.

  Was he gone? Maybe he was just standing silently on the other side of the door, hoping she'd come back out.

  A part of her really hoped he was. Of course, that was the irrational and utterly stupid part of her brain. The part she needed to ignore at all costs. The part that wanted to get her into trouble.

  So what if he's out there waiting for you? Just brush past him, pretend he doesn't even exist, because in your world he may as well not exist at all.

  It might work if Griffin was the type of guy to let something drop, but Cami had a sinking feeling that he wasn't. And if so, then no amount of pretending he didn't exist was going to wash with him.

  She let out a long sigh and pushed away from the door, rolling her shoulders back and forcing her head up high. There wasn't a choice in the matter. She was at work and, whether she liked it or not, she was going to have to face him. The bar couldn't be left unmanned, and her job was far too precious to throw away over one cutie.

  Grabbing the door, she flung it open and stepped back into the bar, her eyes scanning the scattered customers for any signs of him.

  Bile raced up the back of her throat and an icy sensation settled over her body as she spotted him at the far end of the room with his arms wrapped around a young, pretty brunette.