Rule Breaker

by Kincaid, Harper

  I was so busy with my rant that I hadn’t really noticed that instead of getting angered or defeated, Mr. Sex on Legs was actually getting off on my attitude, and I knew that because the playful glimmer in his eye turned molten and dark.

  He leaned toward me, coming close enough for me to catch the glorious musky scent that I knew was his alone. Suddenly I felt his warm hand at the nape of my neck, holding me firmly, with his thumb pressing into the pulse point on my throat.

  “Gorgeous, funny and feisty. And feisty usually means sharp as a tack.” His fingers started caressing the back of my neck, and I bit my lip to quell the moan rising through me. He kept talking. “Although you’re wrong about the barfly assumption. I own this place, so it serves Robby here well to know my drink.” His hand came up, he threaded his fingers through my hair and his deep, rough voice ran through me, like liquid smoke and fire.

  “Can’t imagine what sort of fucked-up happened to you tonight to end up here, but not gonna complain seeing as your bad luck will end up being real good for me.” His gaze slowly traveled the length of me. “So, darlin’, gonna tell me your name already?”

  I knew this was my cue to tell him my name and offer some pithy response. But not only did I have nothing, I chickened out, muttered a quick apology and took off for the bathroom.

  I did my business and splashed cold water on my heated face. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and leaned my palms and my weight against the porcelain sink, mortified to go back out there again. The only thing positive about my predicament was that the humiliation sobered me right up. Now all I had to do was go back, settle my tab and get the heck out of there.

  Is that what you really want? a small voice inside me asked. I had to admit that I was curious about this man. He intrigued me, and I was glad to feel a hum under my skin and between my legs when I was with him. Certainly hadn’t felt anything close to that with Keith over the last several months.

  I stood there and let my mind wander off, wondering if the skin on his fingers was smooth or calloused, hoping for the latter because I really liked the way rough hands and fingers felt against my silken, wet center.

  Jesus, Lauren, panting much? Get. A. Grip.

  I liked men, but it took more than a handsome face to get me this wound up. They had to be wicked smart and confident. Even though he seemed completely at home in his bar, there was something about him that seemed different, like there was more to him than being a reckless biker. Of course I had nothing to substantiate my hunch, but I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so drawn to someone on first sight. Maybe never before.

  After I dried my hands and face, I opened the bathroom door, only to feel someone grab me by my upper arm and drag me off so fast, I didn’t realize what was happening. A side door opened and closed with me on the other side.

  The room was dark, except for the moonlight coming in from a window on the other side. As soon as my eyes adjusted, I could see I was in a long and narrow room with some restaurant supplies. Standing in front of me was my blue-eyed troublemaker. Now, he was holding me by the arm and he was close. Very close.

  Truth time? I loved the idea of this beautiful man coming after me. But I didn’t want him to see that, to know the effect he had on my mind and body.

  He hadn’t earned it.

  So I covered desire with insolence.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I barked at him, giving off as much attitude as I could muster, which wasn’t easy because being this close meant I caught his scent, and it was a mixture of musk and whisky. Pure man. Now I was even more lightheaded than before.

  His mouth twitched, and I knew he’d caught me taking him in. “Babe, you know exactly what I’m doin’.” He stepped even more into my space. “Tell me your name, gorgeous. I’m not asking again.”

  I took a step back and placed one hand on the wall behind me to steady myself. “Lauren,” I squeaked out. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I’m Lauren. And what’s your name?”

  A ghost of a smile appeared and his velvet tongue slowly licked his bottom lip. “Plan on screaming my name out when I make you come for me?”

  Holy shit. Did he just say that to me? My brain despised his arrogance, but my body ignited, making my skin burn hot. My heartbeat accelerated, beating out of my chest so loudly I wondered if he could hear it. I wanted him, badly, but I was embarrassed that he knew it. One look at his self-assured mug told me all I needed to know: he saw and he conquered and he never heard the word no. He didn’t even have to pretend to woo a woman—just grab her and take what he wanted.

  And I was twenty-seven years old, with wonderful friends and a great job, but a shit track record when it came to men. Bad boys, like the one in front of me, may have known how to work my body, but they had also bruised my heart and soul. It was New Year’s Eve. Maybe my New Year’s resolution should have been no more men since I obviously didn’t know how to find a good one.

  “Fine,” I grumbled. “I don’t need to know your name. In fact, I don’t need to know you.”

  I ripped my arm out of his grasp and turned toward the door.

  I was just about to place my hand on the doorknob when one of his steel arms surrounded my waist and pulled me to him.

  “Don’t go yet, Lauren. Please.”

  When I heard him say my name and his quiet plea, any trace of anger just melted away. My body relaxed against his and he moved my hair off my shoulder with his other hand, tucking a stray strand behind my ear. A flood of wet desire invaded the folds of my cleft when his soft lips grazed my skin, and then his mouth clasped on my earlobe. My nipples hardened, and my breath came out erratically. My body shivered because, somehow, this stranger knew exactly where to touch me to turn me on.

  “Lauren,” he whispered. “We’re not done yet.”

  “I should go, but…ohmygod, that feels really good,” I moaned, my body awakening from a deep sleep. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had ignited my desire so fast. Every sweep of his tongue on my skin burned me in the best possible way. I pressed my back to his front and shimmied my bottom against his jeans-clad erection. He sucked in a harsh breath, and I knew I was getting to him as much as he was getting to me.

  “You know how I know we’re not done?” He practically growled against my skin. “Because I haven’t made you come yet. And Lauren, I really need to make you come.”

  “I want…I need you to.” I was practically panting now. “Make me come.”

  Then his right hand roughly hoisted up my dress and his fingers plunged into my underwear. They slid straight down and started playing with my clit, which was swollen with need and heat. And goddamn, he had calloused fingertips, creating the most delicious friction against my slick velvet core.

  I gasped loudly as my head flew back, absorbing the trembling waves those circling fingers were making by touching me so perfectly. I let out a low moan and turned my head in his direction and he immediately seized my mouth with his, sucking me into him, devouring me with every pull of his lips.

  “That’s it, baby,” he growled. “Fuck, you are so wet for me.”

  He increased his pace, speaking into my ear in a low rumble.

  “Noticed you the second you walked in here.” He plunged two fingers deep into me while circling my clit with his thumb. I let out a whimper that vibrated through me, and if he hadn’t been holding me up, my legs would have given way. “Heard you sassing my bartender, showing off your fucking gorgeous tits, walking around like you owned the place. And I knew I had to have me a taste.”

  Just then he stopped rubbing and something between a cry and a mew escaped me. I opened my eyes in time to see him taking the two fingers that had just been inside me into his mouth, tasting my juices on his tongue. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

  Suddenly he turned me around to face him, lifting my dress again and tugging down m
y panties. My back was now against the door as he dropped to his knees in front of me and buried his face between my legs, rolling his tongue through my folds and sucking on my clit.

  Mind-numbing pleasure radiated throughout my body, and I wove my fingers through his hair, which was just as soft and touchable as it had looked from far away. He pushed into me and lifted my legs off the floor and over his shoulders. His tongue flickered lightning hot and fast over my nub and my hips gyrated in response, as I lost all inhibition. His fingers clawed the cheeks of my ass as my hands fisted his hair. I was dancing right on the edge, so close to coming, and then he sucked hard on my clit, turning my low moans into a fevered scream of ecstasy. My orgasm crashed over me, sending me off the edge and into floating weightlessness.

  Then he moved, placing my feet gently on the ground, and with that, the realization of what just happened ripped through my endorphin-filled haze. I had just let a complete stranger touch and taste me in the most intimate way possible. And I didn’t even know his name.

  Without saying a word, he pulled my dress down, picked up my panties from the floor and stood up. “Don’t think you’d want me to put these back on you. They’re soaked.” He balled them up, placed them under his nose and took a deep breath in. “I might want to keep these,” he continued. “They smell like you, like sex and sugar.”

  I was too mortified to say anything, and he must have noticed because his crooked half smile seized. He shoved my underwear into his jeans pocket and caged me in by placing his hands on either side of my head.

  “Hey, what’s going on? What’s in your head, babe?”

  My eyes widened. I may not have been the settling-down kind of girl most of my life, but I still needed to feel a connection with someone beyond just the physical in order to, well, get physical.

  Christ, I at least needed to know the guy’s name. What was the matter with me anyway?

  “I-I don’t even know you. I don’t do stuff like this.” I looked quickly to my left and right, like a trapped animal in a corner. “I can’t believe I let this happen.”

  Just then he came closer and placed some of his body’s weight against me, front to front, and then both hands cupped my face while he stilled my head so I focused only on him.

  “I’m Jackson Sullivan. Does that make you feel better, baby?”

  His tone was serious, as were his eyes. They studied me intently, trying to predict my next reaction. I said nothing but still felt horrified, wishing I could crawl into a hole until spring.

  “Lauren, I get it. You’re not the kind of woman who fucks around in supply rooms with strangers. I clocked that the second you walked in. But I can also tell you’re a wild thing—all the more reason why I wanted a taste.”

  Now my embarrassment accelerated into anger, feeling like fire pulsing under my skin. “Got it, so now you’ve had your ‘taste’ I should go.” I tried to buck myself away from him, but he didn’t move. He must have been over six feet and completely built of muscle because he didn’t even seem to put any effort into keeping me pinned.

  His hands grasped my shoulders, not hard, but firm. “Stop fighting me.” His voice sounded like the low throttle of a revved-up engine.

  I stopped squirming. “Just let me go, Jackson. I’m already embarrassed enough, and I want to go home.”

  His palms moved from my shoulders to my neck and then cradled my face again. Even though I was still flushed from my orgasm, his hands felt hot on my skin. It felt comforting, solid, which unnerved me for some reason.

  “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I wanted this, and so did you. We’re also not done. I’m taking you home. You’re in no condition to drive.”

  “I’ll just take a cab. I’ll be fine.”

  His eyes bored into me and mine into him. It was like we were assessing one another, feeling each other out without words. Yet, there was something more in his eyes, something taking everything in. It was as if he saw all of me, which I knew sounded ridiculous, like something some dumb teenager would say in the throes of puppy love. Yet it still felt true.

  “No,” he practically growled. “I’m not placing you in some cab with a strange guy. And don’t argue with me because you’ll just be wasting my time and you’ll lose anyway.”

  I must have had a stunned expression on my face because his eyes softened as his thumb caressed my cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you, Lauren. I just want to be deep inside you when that clock strikes midnight. I want to make you come hard with my fingers, my dick and my mouth. And I want you to want that just as much as I do.”

  Oh. My. God. Could this man be any more seductive? Images of him balls-deep in me, directing his heat into my clenched pussy, burned off any remnants of embarrassment I had before.

  What the heck. It was New Year’s Eve. I’d enjoy one last bad-boy fix before finding someone to settle down with for the long haul. Maybe I still had some wild oats to sow, and with that thought, I decided my impulses would rule the night.

  “Okay, Jackson Sullivan. You’re on.” I softly brushed my lips against his. “Take me home.”

  His lifted his eyes to me and gave me a huge grin, as if my consent had made him genuinely happy. I didn’t know what to do with that, so I let him take the lead.

  Jackson let go of my face, opened the door, took me by the hand and practically dragged me out of the bar.

  While I’m sure there was some noise going on, the minute we hit the main area, everyone froze solid and watched us move through the space. Jackson didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. A couple of the biker chicks I’d seen before glared hard as I passed, aiming daggers right at me. I must have slowed my pace because he turned around with a questioning expression on his face. When he followed my gaze and saw what was going on between the other women and me he scowled in their direction, giving them an intense, dirty look. Their eyes got wide and they turned away, looking like scolded children.

  “What the heck was that about?”

  He glanced over his shoulder at me and gave a slight shake of his head. “Nothin’ for you to worry about, beautiful.”

  I didn’t buy that for a second. “Ex-girlfriends of yours?”

  His mouth parted in surprise before he threw his head back and laughed. “Fuck no, Lauren. Never tapped either of them skanks.”

  Lovely description. I must have grimaced because he couldn’t suppress the amused glimmer in his eye. “Trust me, babe. Those two ain’t ladies. You can let that comment slide on behalf of the sisterhood.”

  Geez, am I that easy to read? “Get out of my head, Jackson Sullivan!”

  The corner of his gorgeous mouth curled up as he bit his lush bottom lip. Then he pulled me toward him with a jerk and drawled in my ear, “I’m getting into your head and into every other part of you I want, so don’t say you haven’t been warned.”

  I rolled my eyes in response, trying unsuccessfully to suppress a full-body shiver.

  He started walking out and turned toward the bar. “Hey, Robby, you took care of the drinks?”

  “Yeah, boss.” He gave me a knowing smile as we walked by. I felt myself blush again, not exactly thrilled that everyone around knew what we were about to do.

  “What do you mean he took care of the drinks?”

  “Babe, it’s my bar. I’m takin’ you home. Goes without sayin’ you’re not paying for your drinks, so I had Robby cancel out your tab.”

  I stopped before we reached the car, realizing that throughout this whole night I hadn’t even brought my coat with me. Geez, was I that pissed off that I didn’t feel the cold? I rubbed my arms, feeling the weather bite through my not-made-for-winter-wear dress. Before I got in though, I turned to him.

  “I don’t need you to pay for my drinks, Jackson. And now Robby won’t get a good tip.”

  He took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around me. It instantly en
gulfed my frame in his warmth, which felt completely intoxicating.

  “Don’t you worry about Robby. I take plenty good care of that boy. And I think I can take the hit for the vast amount of booze you consumed tonight.”

  “Hey, I only had two drinks!”

  Jackson shook his head while still smiling, and brought his arms around me. “You want to keep arguin’, gorgeous, or can I get you home and warm and coming under my tongue again?”

  Wow. Can words alone make a woman orgasm? I shut my mouth after that one.

  Before I could fully register what was happening, Jackson had me in his car, away from Sully’s and back to my house. I don’t even remember giving him directions. He took my key out of my hands and opened the door for me.

  “Come on in, why don’t ya?” I teased and reached for the light switch.

  Jackson grasped my hand before I got to it though. “Don’t. I like seeing you just from the light coming from the window.” He pulled me to him, leaning toward me, until we were pressed against each other. “You are so fuckin’ beautiful, Lauren. I’m really glad I’m here with you.”

  I melted just then, wrapping my arms around him and burying my face in his neck. Taking a deep breath, I felt surrounded by his unique scent of liquor, leather and all man. His hands threaded through my hair and he pulled me into a deep and soulful kiss. I could still taste myself on his tongue, which only increased my need for him.

  I pulled away and took his hand. “This way, Jax.” Then I led him to my bedroom.

  Chapter Two

  Rule #1: Don’t rush into sex—wait until you have a firm commitment.

  Have sex the first night you meet.

  As I woke up late the next morning, I realized I had rung in the New Year by breaking one of “the rules”. Surprisingly, however, I didn’t feel any shame or guilt or regrets. I felt good, well rested in spite of being up half the night having the most amazing sex of my life.