Breaking All the Rules (Billionaire Romance) (The A List Series (Book 2))

by Rylan, Savannah

  Breaking All The Rules

  A List Book Two

  Savannah Rylan

  Breaking All The Rules

  Published By Savannah Rylan Books

  Copyright © 2015 Savannah Rylan

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places or events are entirely the work of the author. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, or places is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Please purchase only authorized editions and do not participate in piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Cover art by Cover Up Designs

  Chapter ONE:

  Breccan

  The fingers on my left hand tightened, stretching the still healing scabs from my fight with Jude last week to their limits. I flexed and unflexed, trying hard to reign in my anger thinking about it once again. I inhaled deeply; fighting for control, yet every time my eyes closed all I could see was Cora’s face, frozen in fear as that son of a bitch attacked her. Violated her.

  I paid little attention to the meeting happening around me, my thoughts focused solely on Cora.

  “…The producers are concerned. Advanced screenings have not gone well and…”

  The talking heads sitting at the table in front of me babbled on and on. I don’t know what the fuck they expected of me. I did my job. Why did they somehow think I should do theirs too? I didn’t give two shits about this movie. I had much more important matters to attend to.

  “…really think that if we went this route, it will drum up enough public interest to put us back on track…”

  I blinked, looking over at Simon. He rolled his eyes at whatever these baboons were babbling on about, apparently giving as many shits as I did.

  Relaxing the muscles in my shoulders. I exhaled slowly. Replaying what happened last week, over and over in my mind. It had played on a constant loop since it happened, taunting me. Where I went wrong. Where I fucked up. I knew I should have never sent her out alone at that hour. I hadn’t been thinking. Too wrapped up on planning the last item on her list and I was exhausted after filming for the last fifteen hours and… no, that was no excuse.

  My gut tightened, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. I don’t know how, but within minutes of watching her sway those soft hips away in search of the jouk stew, I knew I needed to find her.

  As I walked through the darkened city streets, her terrified cries echoed off the walls, sending me into overdrive as my feet flew down the road after road, desperately searching. Finally, I spotted her arms flailing, legs kicking, as Jude pinned her against the brick wall.

  Her screams of terror as Jude attacked her, gutted me. Lowering my shoulders, I didn’t hesitate as I careened into him, driving both of us into the cement below. Jude’s eyes dilated as I approached. He knew what was coming next. He remembered what happened before. He knew what was about to happen now.

  My fist slammed into his face, the bones of his nose crushed beneath the force of my hand. I pulled back, landing a second and then a third, as blood sprayed across the pavement. My head tilted, focusing on Cora out of the corner of my eye. Her hands were shaking as she whimpered, trying to hold the broken straps of her top together. Her eyes were vacant, staring off into nothing as shock overtook her now.

  He’d hurt her. He laid his hands on her beautiful, unmarred skin. “You’re a dead man”, I growled. I grabbed him by the hair, holding him still as my other hand pulled back once more.

  “Are you sure you want to go along with this, Brec?” Simon asked me, bringing me out of my head.

  My eyes glanced over and focused on the two producers, their greedy faces were so eager they were practically salivating. And shit if I had any idea what they wanted from me. I’d been too busy thinking about Cora. Again. I could not get her out of my mind. And it wasn’t just her being attacked. It was everything about her. The cute slurping noise she made when she ate soup. Or the way her nose always wrinkled when she was annoyed. The pure joy on her face as we took the helicopter ride. I especially enjoyed the way her eyes seemed to brighten when she saw me looking at her. It’s like she could hear my thoughts. As if she knew how much I want to run my hands—

  “Breccan? Well?”

  Fuck. I needed to say something. “Yeah, fine. Whatever. Just send Simon the details. I’ve gotta go.”

  I stood up, closed the portfolio in front of me, and walked out the door. I needed to get out of there, clear my head. I needed to stop thinking about Cora.

  But God she made it so difficult. When I held her that night, her soft, curvy body snuggled deep against me, it was the first time in months I relaxed enough to sleep without needing any medication. All the shit in my head that usually bogged me down, vanished. I didn’t worry about… no, I didn’t want to go there now. But when I woke up as my hand slid down her willing body, she moaned my name as she slept. That was the final straw. My dick was so hard, hearing my name whispered out of her perfectly round mouth, not even a cold shower and my rough hand could take the edge off.

  Even though I’d barely gotten three hours of sleep, I was wired for hours. I got up, showered, jacked off, wishing it was Cora’s soft pussy instead of my hand, and then went to work making sure Jude would never get the chance to lay another hand on her ever again.

  It wasn’t hard to find someone who was willing to take care of the problem, not with the money I was offering. The dark web was a beautiful thing. Not even an hour later I had confirmation that the job was done. I glanced over at Cora, safe and warm, snuggled up in my bed and lightly snoring, and smiled as I hit “send” on the wire transfer. Yep, I didn’t regret at thing. And I’d do it again.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” Simon grabbed my arm, turning me to face him as his screams echoed in the hallway.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Simon’s eyes bulged out of his head. “You agreed? How could you agree to what those two jackasses said? After everything that happened last year?”

  I had no idea what he was talking about, but a tight knot formed in the pit of my stomach. “I’ve gotta be honest with you, Simon. I wasn’t paying any attention to what they were saying. I have no idea what I agreed to. I just wanted to get out of there.”

  He lowered his head. “Oh fuck, Breccan. Of all the times for you to space out…”

  “Simon. What did I just agree to?”

  He shook his head. “You can’t blame me for this Brec. You agreed to it. You did.”

  The knot tightened. “What the fuck is it, Simon?”

  He sighed. “You agreed to go out with Miranda again. Be seen with her in the weeks before the release, and then take her to the premiere. And, depending on sales, continue for a few weeks after release.”

  It was like Simon had physically struck me. My eyes slid closed as I absorbed the blow. How the fuck did I let this happen? Not Miranda. It took me almost eight months to finally pry her claws out of me, and here I extended my jugular for her to clamp down on once again.

  I ran my hands through my hair, trying to calm down the frustration coursing through me. “Tell me you’re joking.”

  “I wish I was,” he said flatly.

  Miranda Deveraux was America’s sweet
heart. A former child star who was only worth a damn because her parents were well known in the industry. After her sitcom ended, she managed to land several key roles in “girl next door” chick flicks, cementing her “sweet” image in the public eye. Men everywhere wanted to fuck her and women wanted to be her. She had everyone in the media wrapped around her little finger and she knew it.

  Two years ago, right after I was named “sexiest man alive” the first time, her agent called requesting a meeting with Miranda about a future project. It turned out, that project was “get Breccan to date Miranda to boost her image after that DUI.”

  The girl was a raving bitch with dual personalities: one for the public and one behind closed doors. It took a while for her to turn off her public persona with me, and once she finally did, it was too late for me to make a clean break. There was too much involved.

  What the fuck had I just gotten myself into?

  Chapter TWO

  Cora

  “Breccan? Are you back yet?” I called, setting the groceries and mail down on the counter. There was no answer, so I assumed his meeting with Simon and the producers ran later than he expected.

  I began unpacking the groceries that Breccan requested today: steak, lobster tails, fresh asparagus, and baked potatoes. I didn’t exactly know what his plans were, but my mouth watered thinking about the mouthwatering meal. All that awaited me at home was a Lean Cuisine and my DVR.

  We’d been home from Hong Kong for just over two weeks now. After the attack by Jude, my night with Breccan, and that incredible sex dream (that I swear felt so real I woke up hot and sweaty), things were starting to get back to normal.

  When we got back to the states, Breccan barely let me out of his line of sight. He was more protective of me, more doting. It was intense. Overwhelming. And really freaking hot. He’d growl and slide closer to me if the mailman stopped to talk to me for too long. If we were out, he always had a hand on the small of my back, just letting me know he was there, looking out for me. Protecting me. I knew that as long as he was there, he’d never let anyone try to hurt me like Jude did again.

  At the thought, Jude’s face flashed in my mind, making my stomach turn.

  The events of that night—how close I really came to being raped—flashed into my mind. If it wasn’t for Breccan…I don’t even want to think about what would have happened. I couldn’t make myself go there. It took weeks to sleep at night without waking up from a nightmare. My only saving grace is that Jude was dead. He’d died from his injuries three days after the attack. I knew it probably made me a bad person or something, but I couldn’t even bring myself to feel sorry that he was dead. I was simply relieved to know he was no longer in this world. No longer capable of attacking another girl.

  Waiting to hear the details twisted me with guilt that Breccan was being questioned by the police. When the news revealed that it was a local shop owner, not Breccan, who’d been responsible for the death, relief poured over me. The local police had found Jude’s blood on the shop owner’s clothes and he had Jude’s wallet in his car. It was an open and shut case.

  Tears streamed down my face as I sat on my knees as I listened to the reporter explain the details. I don’t think I could have lived with that on my conscience if it had been Breccan after all.

  “Cora?” Breccan called, coming in the front door.

  “I’m here!” I placed the last of the cold groceries in the fridge as he came into the kitchen, making my knees weak. His tall, broad frame filled out his button down shirt, the charcoal color really making his jade eyes pop and sparkle. It was paired with slim cut jeans that accented his tight ass and making my mind wander into very dirty places.

  I cleared my throat, the sexy dream I’d had still lingering in my thoughts. “So how’d the meeting with the producers go?”

  He winced. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

  “That bad?”

  “Worse.”

  Yikes. That was not a good sign at all. “Scotch?” I asked, heading to his built in bar area.

  Breccan plopped on the couch, rubbing his temples. “Just bring the whole bottle.”

  I poured a generous glass and walked over to the couch, handing it to him. “Try starting with this.”

  Breccan’s fingers grazed mine as I handed it to him, his touch igniting me. After a moment, he broke the tiny contact and brought the glass to his lips, devouring its contents in two long swigs. My eyes lingered on those gorgeous lips, wondering how they would feel on my skin. Would he be rough or gentle? “That was a good start, but not nearly enough.” I poured him a second glass, filling it nearly to the top. Again, he downed it, setting the glass down on the side table.

  “Better?”

  “Getting there,” he sighed, closing his eyes as he laid his head back on the couch. “I fucked up royally, Cora. And I can’t see a way out of it.”

  My fingers and hands itched to wrap around him, Comfort him in some small way. In the last two months that we’d worked together, I’d never seen him like this. “Do you want to tell me about it? Maybe I can help?”

  He shook his head, his eyes still closed. “No. I couldn’t if I wanted to. Stupid NDA. But thank you for offering.”

  I went back to putting groceries away, wanting to give him space to work out whatever he was going through alone. I closed the fridge, finally finished, when Breccan came up behind me with another drink in his hand. His delicious scent surrounded me, rendering me unable to speak.

  Breccan stood mere inches from me, so close his breath warmed my neck, and I could have sworn I heard him sigh. Or maybe it was me. I don’t know how long we stood like that, neither moving further or back. I was too afraid to budge an inch, not wanting to lose his closeness.

  .Breccan spun me around to face him, pulling my hand into his own as he led me across the room. “Sit. I’m going to make us some dinner.”

  I snapped out of my stupor and my eyes narrowed in confusion. “Us? I thought you said you had special dinner plans with someone tonight.”

  He reached over, slipping my hand into his own, chills ran up my spine at the softness of his touch. His fingers laced through mine as he led me to the barstool on the island. “I do have dinner plans. With you.”

  He placed me in the seat gently, his hand running over my arm, his thumb swiping against the skin of my wrist before he strode over to the wine bar and took out a glass. “You need a drink too. Red or white?”

  “Red, please,” I answered. A small smile formed on my lips. I couldn’t believe he was going to cook this fancy dinner for me. I mean, I knew we’d grown close in the last month—friends even—but this… this almost felt like a date.

  My palms clammed up at the thought, as beads of perspiration prickled my upper lip. This wasn’t a date, right? This was just a work dinner. Yeah, I could convince myself of that much easier than I could that Breccan Laughry was flirting with me as he poured me a generous glass of expensive red wine.

  He set the glass in front of me before bending to retrieve a dish and placed the lobster tails inside. After preheating the oven and sliding them inside to warm, he went back into the fridge for the steaks. “Tonight, Cora. I don’t want to think about work. I don’t want to think about anything. Let’s just eat these delicious looking steaks, drink a shit ton of wine, and forget that tomorrow is coming. Can we do that?”

  That sounded… exactly like what I needed. For tonight, I wouldn’t think about anything else and just enjoy the moment. I picked up my glass and raised it to him. “I’ll drink to that!”

  Breccan clinked his glass with mine before handing me his phone. “Here. Put on some music while I season these steaks.”

  “Any preferences?”

  “Whatever sounds good to you.”

  I scrolled through his extensive music library before deciding that tonight called for something simple and classic. I selected the album and hit shuffle before inserting the player into the speaker system.

  “Miles and Col
trane? I’m impressed you know who they are, Cora,” he said with a wink.

  “What? You think I’m all T. Swift and OneD? C’mon now, I’m not that bad, am I?”

  Breccan chuckled. “No, not at all. But a classic jazz duo from the fifties doesn’t exactly scream ‘hip and fresh’ now does it?”

  “Well what does it say about you then? It’s your iPod!” I teased back.

  “Touché.”

  I shrugged. “No, it’s just something my dad used to play when he cooked. My mom was terrible in the kitchen. She couldn’t even make toast without burning it, so it was my dad who taught Simon and I when we were kids. He would put this on his record player and go to town, mixing crazy ingredients with no apparent rhyme or reason. But everything he made was fantastic. I just thought the music was appropriate for tonight.”

  He picked up his glass again, a broad smile across his face. “To a crazy night with no rhyme or reason.”