Banishing All the Rules (Billionaire Romance) (The A List Series Book 3)

by Rylan, Savannah

“Bullshit. Try again.”

  She waivered a bit, but held firm. “How dare you call me a liar.”

  “Oh, I’ll call you a lot more than that if you don’t start giving me some answers. Now.”

  Neither of us budged, both staring daggers at the other, but I was done letting this bitch walk all over me. I called her bluff and started toward her. Intent on pulling her out by her fake extensions if necessary. Miranda dodged left as I came up on her and grabbed a vase from the table next to her, heaving it at me.

  I instinctively ducked, narrowly missing the crystal vase smacking me in the head. The vase shattered upon hitting the wall behind me, breaking into thousands of sharp, tiny shards. “You bitch!” I screamed as a second vase was thrown. This time her aim was better and she hit me. Glass lodged in the bare skin of my legs and feet, feeling like tiny razors as they sliced across my skin.

  I howled in pain, hopping from one foot to another. The distraction was enough for Miranda to get away, and before I could even turn back toward her, she was gone. The front door still open as the sound of her BMW revved, tires squealing, as she sped away.

  I stood there in utter disbelief of what just happened. What was she doing here? What was she hiding behind her back?

  “Hello?” Evelyn called, coming out of her room. “I heard a commotion. What’s going on?”

  “Stay where you are, Evelyn! Everything’s okay now, but there’s broken glass on the floor.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. Positive. Go finish your cocoa while I clean up out here, okay?” The last thing I needed was to need to take her to the ER because she had broken shards of glass all through her feet. I stepped over the largest pieces and headed for the broom closet to retrieve the handheld vacuum and the garbage can.

  I picked up the large pieces first before moving the couch to vacuum underneath it. I was almost finished when something touched my shoulder.

  Chapter Six

  Cora

  I jumped about three feet in the air, my arms flailing.

  “Cora! It’s just me,” Breccan held both of my shoulders, pulling my back against his chest. Relief flooded through me, fearing Miranda was back for round two.

  “Oh thank God,” I sank into his welcoming arms as he wrapped my trembling body against him.

  “You’re trembling,” his hands rubbed up and down my arms, making me feel safe and needy at the same time.

  “I’m so relieved you’re here.” I snuggled in closer, relishing in the protection his touch offered. After a minute he let go, allowing me to bend, to turn the handheld vacuum off before I faced him again.

  Breccan eyed me and the damage with confusion. “What happened here? What’s got you so worked up?”

  “Two words: Miranda Devereaux.”

  Breccan’s jaw tightened. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “I wish I was. That bitch is certifiable.”

  “Start at the beginning. Is my mother okay?” I opened my mouth to reply when he cut me off. “Cora, you’re bleeding!”

  I glanced down at my shins. Thin streaks of blood oozed down my legs, reminding me of the shower curtain in Psycho. “I know. It’s not bad, just a few scrapes. I wanted to clean the glass out of the carpet first so Evelyn didn’t accidentally step in it. Everything happened all at once and I forgot to lock her door.”

  Breccan scooped me into his arms, causing me to drop the small vacuum on the couch with a thud and proceeded to carry me out of the living room and down the hallway. He didn’t stop until we were in his master bathroom. He placed me gently on the closed toilet lid, bending to inspect my injuries.

  “Breccan, this really isn’t necessary. They’re just a few tiny cuts.”

  His large hands slowly skimmed the length of my leg, gently circling my ankle before picking up my foot to inspect it too. I couldn’t stop the shivers that ran down my body at his gentle touch. He never ceased to have an effect on me. Even the tiniest touch elicited a reaction, no matter how hard I fought to reign in my feelings for him.

  “Cora.” My name rolled off Breccan’s tongue like warm honey: sweet and thick. My eyes met his, and I could see the struggle for control deep in his eyes too. My body instinctively inched toward him, yearning to be closer. Needing to feel the heat that vibrated off his skin. Wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch him.

  I shivered again.

  Breccan’s fingers traced back up my leg, past my knee until he reached the hem of my skirt. He skimmed his fingers along the edge of the cotton fabric. My breathing became heavy as I anticipated what he would do. What I knew we both wanted. I fought to stay still and not just jump into his arms right then and there. We hadn’t worked out all of our problems and were still in an awkward place, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want him any less. In fact, after knowing how amazing his touch was, not having it for these last few weeks has been torture.

  The tip of his middle finger slipped under the loose fabric and my eyes slid shut as I savored the feel of—

  “Where is everyone? Where am I?” Evelyn’s scared voice snapped us out of our lusty haze. Breccan withdrew his hand, standing back up to meet his mother, who stood in the doorway.

  “Hey Mom,” Breccan leaned in, kissing her forehead. “You’re at my house, remember?”

  She shook her head. “No. Why am I here?”

  “You’re just visiting for a few days. I missed you.”

  Evelyn smiled up at him, resting her palm on his cheek. “You look so much like your father. So handsome.”

  Breccan leaned into her hand. I could practically see his heart swell at her affection. She didn’t give it often. She didn’t know who he was enough of the time.

  “That girl is bleeding, Breccan.”

  “I know, Mom. I’m going to help her get cleaned up real quick. Can you wait for me in the living room?”

  Evelyn started to leave, but panic swelled in my throat. “No, Breccan. The glass. I wasn’t done cleaning it up.”

  “Shit,” he cursed. “Hey, Mom. Why don’t you come with me real quick to the kitchen? I’ll fix you some dinner.”

  Breccan put his arm around her shoulders before turning back to me. “Don’t move. I’ll be back in a second. I’m just going to get her started with a snack.”

  I tried to protest, but the fierce heat in his eyes kept the words from coming out. Instead, I nodded, only telling him there was a salad prepared for her already in the fridge.

  Breccan was back within minutes, not wasting a second before his hands were on my body. He may have been touching only my leg below the knee, but I felt it much higher. I bit back the sighs and moans as his fingers skimmed my calf, cleaning the cuts with a cotton swab, and checking for any tiny shards of glass.

  When he was done, he closed the lid on the peroxide and tossed the trash in the bin, but he didn’t let me go. Instead, his thumb caressed my instep before beginning to knead and my eyes slid shut. The combination of touches and the heady scent of Breccan made me ache all over. I needed his touch everywhere. I’d gone too long without it.

  “I need you to tell me exactly what happened now.”

  Breccan’s voice snapped me out of my lusty haze and back into the present. I swallowed hard trying to focus on what he said and not how wet my panties currently were thanks to his touches.

  I cleared my throat. “I was in Evelyn’s room and I heard the door slam shut. I assumed it was you, and when I came into the living room Miranda was standing there. She had something in her hands, but I couldn’t see what it was. She claimed you had given her a key, but I knew that wasn’t true and when I called her out on it, she freaked out and threw a vase at me before running out the door.”

  “What the fuck was she trying to pull now?” Breccan didn’t direct his question at me, but was almost saying it to himself.

  “Breccan, I think it’s time we talked about Miranda. This is the second time she’s attacked me now.”

  He blew out a breath. “You’re
right. It is.”

  Chapter Seven

  Cora

  Breccan and I stood and headed out of the bathroom, but as we passed the large four-poster bed he paused before turning to face me. Regret and longing poured out of his eyes, and echoed in my own. He stretched out his hand, brushing against my cheek. “I’m going to tell you everything. Every detail. But let’s get my mom settled for the night first.”

  “Okay.” It was the only word I could squeak out.

  He placed his hand at the small of my back as we headed out and didn’t move it until we arrived in the kitchen to find Evelyn licking her salad bowl, scooping out every last drop of ranch dressing.

  “I’ll put the soup and sandwiches on too,” I announced and headed toward the fridge.

  An hour and a half later, we’d all eaten a small dinner of tomato soup and grilled cheese with cheddar, Gouda, and smoked mozzarella cheese, stuffed with fresh heirloom tomatoes and crispy bacon. They were amazing, and I couldn’t stop myself from eating every last bite, and then making a second. Evelyn chatted about some soap opera she was watching as if the characters were her friends, not letting Breccan or I get a word in edgewise. I was actually happy. I didn’t want to have to make small talk, my mind was too busy swimming with the possibilities of whatever Breccan was about to tell me and the memory of the heat in his eyes. We cleaned up the dishes and finished straightening up the living room before setting up Evelyn—who was somehow still hungry after all that—in her bedroom with a bowl of salty popcorn and a movie on Netflix.

  After closing the door to her room, I joined Breccan on the couch, sliding on the opposite end. I knew I’d need some distance in order to make it through this. No matter what he said, it was going to be bad.

  “Miranda Deveraux is a two-faced bitch,” he started.

  I snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  He drew a deep breath. “When I first met her, it was under the guise of working together on a new project. It turned out, that new project was cleaning up her image after a DUI. She was using me from the start. Unfortunately, I didn’t see it coming until it was too late.”

  Breccan scrubbed his forehead, running his hands through his hair. “Miranda and I dated for eleven months,” he rolled his eyes. “God, I don’t know how I put up with her for that long. It wasn’t until the end of our relationship that I truly saw just how crazy she is. And she was desperate not to lose me, was willing to say and do anything to keep me from leaving her.”

  I stopped him, confused. “Breccan, you’re beating around the bush and not really telling me anything.”

  “I just…I want you to see it from my point of view before I tell you so you don’t end up hating me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Trust me that I know what a manipulative bitch she is and that you fell prey to it. And trust me with the truth.”

  Breccan nodded, squeezing his eyes together. “Miranda had two abortions. They were both mine. And now she’s threatening to tell people that I forced her to have the abortions against her will and go public with the story.”

  I sat back in my seat, my eyes wide with disbelief. “Holy shit.” I took a few seconds to digest what he told me before asking the question. “Did you…?”

  “No. Absolutely not. I didn’t know about either one. Not until much later. She never said a fucking word to me, but now she’s blackmailing me. That’s why I couldn’t tell you anything. That’s how she clawed her way back into my life.”

  “I’m sorry. I… I had to ask. So, she just told all this to you a few weeks ago?”

  He nodded. “From the pieces she told me, and what I had a private investigator dig up, the first abortion was three months after we started dating. It was just after we stopped using condoms and she assured me she was on the pill. Miranda confessed that she took an antibiotic that accidentally countered the effectiveness of the pill.” His fists tightened at his sides and his jaw ticked with anger. “The second one happened a month after we broke up. I believe she got pregnant on purpose when I was threatening to break up with her. Somehow she believed in her diluted mind that a baby would make me stay.

  “But I’d changed my number so I wouldn’t have to hear from her. And Simon had been dodging calls from her and her agent for months. She came to the house a few times, but I refused to even open the door. So when she realized there wasn’t even a small possibility of me taking her back, she got rid of it. Again.

  “Fuck. I screwed up and now she’s weaseled her way back in.” He stood, grabbing the bottle of scotch from his bar and pouring himself a glass. He downed it in one swallow before continuing. “That morning, after I left you in bed, I met with her to tell her that I wouldn’t fall for any of her shit this time, and that I’d found someone I really wanted to be with.”

  Regret and longing swirled with frustration and anger in Breccan’s eyes. My head swam with so many thoughts and feelings that I was almost dizzy. That bitch played with so many lives, like a cat toys with a mouse. She needed to pay.

  Breccan sat back down, closer to me this time. “That’s when she dropped the blackmail bomb. I didn’t know what to do. The press would believe her. She’s Miranda Deveraux and I’m the player of Hollywood. They had no reason not to believe her. So I had to play along.”

  I couldn’t stay away any longer. He looked so.... defeated, and I refused to let him continue to feel that way. He needed to know I understood. And that I didn’t blame him. Not one bit. I reached my hand out, grabbing his fingers and entwining them in my own. Breccan squeezed our hands together, pulling it closer, and kissing my knuckles.

  “You need to know, I hated every second of deceiving you. It made me physically sick. And no matter what she said, I refused to let her touch me. I didn’t want any part of her body near me.”

  “I believe you,” I whispered, pulling myself closer until I could feel the heat coming off his body.

  His eyes slid shut. “Thank you,” he replied simply.

  We sat silently for a few minutes. The tension between us passed from one of frustration and anger to longing and need. His thumb stroked over the skin on my wrist, circling it tenderly.

  The touch was gentle and just enough to drive me crazy. I needed more. I wanted him—bad.

  Chapter Eight

  Cora

  My body leaned closer yet, until the silky fabric of his shirt brushed against me. My breath grew heavy as desire flared like the flames of a fire. I couldn’t think about anything else but how much I needed Breccan. His body. His lips. His touch.

  A low rumble emanated from Breccan’s throat, making my eyes flash open and look at him. Through my half-lidded gaze, I could see his struggle for control. He was like a cat ready to pounce. And God did I ever want to be his prey.

  Our eyes locked, each of us staring at the other and neither moving. My chest tightened with anticipation and my tongue darted out to lick my dry lips.

  Breccan’s gaze caught the tiny movement, and that’s all it took. Our lips crashed together in heated passion. I slid my hands up his neck and tangled them in his hair. Fire coursed through my body and I felt his strong arms wrap around me. Everything that I’d been feeling for the last few weeks, every emotion that I’d repressed came pouring out in that kiss. His mouth fused with mine, neither wanting to let go. An unspoken conversation passed between us, as out tongues explored and our lips melded. One of sorrow and regret on his end; one of forgiveness and understanding on mine.

  Breccan pulled back, cupping my face in his hands. His eyes met mine and in that moment, that fraction of a second, everything turned from the past to the future. To the now. And right now, we both wanted—no needed—this physical intimacy to cement things between us.

  Leaning forward, I brought my lips to his once more. His kisses were like a drug, sucking me in and making me forget everything in the world around me as his tongue began a slow tango with my own. My pleasure thickened, until it oozed out of every pore in my body. Passion turned to need. Need
turned to lust. And lust turned to an ache deep in me, that only Breccan could fill.

  His arm tightened as he swiftly lifted me up and had my straddle over his lap.

  I moaned as I felt his hardness through the thin cotton skirt I wore. His hand slipped under my loose blouse caressing the bare skin of my back as our kiss deepened, making me ache for more contact.

  I began to grind my hips against his, needing to feel more of him and hating all the layers of clothes between us. As if reading my thoughts, Breccan slowly lifted the flowy blouse up and off me, kissing up my stomach and between my breasts before coming back down my neck to my collar bone. My eyes slid shut as I leaned my head slightly back. His kisses trailed down to my breast and I let out a moan as I felt his warm tongue on my hard nipple.