Rule
Breaker
Break on Through #1
By: Harper Kincaid
Releasing March
3rd, 2015
Samhain
Just
one more can’t hurt…right?
Re-belle-ious, free-spirited Lauren Renwick has decided it’s time to trade her
wings for roots. That means no more bad boys, no more foolish choices. Yet when
she’s stood up on New Year’s Eve, her resolution to stick to her Mama’s Rules
for Dating weakens. Especially when she spots sex-in-leather-and-tattoos,
Jackson Sullivan.
One look at Lauren, and Jackson is hell-bent on getting her on the back of his
Harley and riding straight for his bed. Their night together is an erotic rush
that has a new word popping up on his horizon—forever.
Lauren tries to convince herself he’s just one last fling to get bad boys out
of her system, yet she finds herself falling hard and fast for a man with a
stalker ex and a meddling Irish family. Plus, he has zero chance of passing her
uptight parents’ inspection.
Jackson has Lauren’s back, but if she wants all of his heart, she’ll have to
meet him halfway—by ditching rules that hold her prisoner, and learning to
stand up for what she really wants.
Warning:
Contains several highly practical rules for dating—all of which will be broken
in the most wicked ways possible, thanks to a domineering alpha male who knows
what he wants and isn’t afraid to go after it...rules be damned.
Goodreads
Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23597573-rule-breaker?from_search=true
Author Info
Born in California and raised in South Florida, I've moved
around like a gypsy with a bounty on my head ever since. Along the way, I
worked as a community organizer, a professional matchmaker, a popular blogger,
and a crisis counselor (to name a few). All the while, longing to have the guts
to do what I really wanted: to write and become a published author. That wish
has finally come true and I feel like a karmic cloud has been lifted off my
head. Those of you who have also taken a circuitous route in trying to find
their path get me - I can tell.
What else? Hmm... I love indie, lo-fi, complaint rock played
on vinyl, wearing black because it's slimming, the theater, well-informed
optimism, happy endings (both kinds), and making those close to me laugh 'til
they snort. I'm a self-admitted change junkie, loving new experiences and
places, but have now happily settled in the cutest lil' town, Vienna, Virginia,
with my awesome and patient husband and two kick-ass girls.
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Excerpt
By the pool
table were a bunch of rough-as-leather motorcycle riders, getting loud and
throwing down bets on the pool table. There were more than a couple of hookups
going on in the darkened corners with the occasional flash of flesh making an
appearance. Even though I was surprised by the blatant PDA, I also couldn’t
help but envy them. At least they had someone worth sweating with on New Year’s
Eve.
I
straightened my dress and glanced up, only to find the most beautiful man I’ve
ever seen walking straight toward me. His gaze was intense, and he was tall
with broad shoulders that ate up the space around him as he moved. His hair was
jet black and even with the poor lighting, I could tell it was glossy like
silk. I liked that it wasn’t too long or too short, and it had this sexy, messy
way about it, like he just rolled out of bed after having mind-blowing sex. I
couldn’t tell the color of his eyes, but I could still determine he had an
amazing mouth and a rugged face. Pure masculine beauty, wearing faded blue
jeans, a henley shirt that was snug enough to highlight his muscular frame, and
well-worn motorcycle boots.
Bad-boy sex
on legs.
Exactly the
kind of man I was trying to avoid those days.
He was
totally gorgeous and definitely intense, with the way he stared at me like a
gazelle on an open plain that was seconds away from being devoured. Nothing was
distracting him from getting from across the room right to me.
As he
approached where I was seated, he gave the bartender a quick chin lift. The
bartender reciprocated the manly greeting, poured a finger of whiskey in a
glass and handed it to him. I noticed that even when Mr. Sex on Legs reached
for his drink, he did it without taking his eyes off me for a second.
“Hey,” he
said with a voice as rough as gravel. “What’s your name?”
Oh sweet
Jesus, don’t tempt me with a rough-and-ready biker god who is on a
well-acquainted, knows-my-drink-without-asking basis with the bartender. Bad
enough he exuded sex and sin, which was my weakness. Definitely didn’t need a
man with Johnny Walker or Jim Beam riding on his back.
I gave him
a perfunctory glance. “Doesn’t matter my name. I’m not staying here long enough
for us to get acquainted.”
Two of his
fingers propped my chin up, forcing me to look at him. Damn it, he really was
the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. He had blue eyes. No, not just blue
eyes, but go-on-vacation-and-do-laps-in-the-warm-Caribbean-Ocean blue eyes. And
those eyes were scalding hot on me, burning me whole. And I knew that look. It
meant I needed to get out of there, fast, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to
escape the smoldering, hot-guy tractor beam that was pulling me in.
“Listen.” I
sighed, trying my hardest to pretend he had no effect on me. I backed my chin
away from his hand. “You are definitely a scrumptious treat, but I’m not
sampling tonight, if you get my meaning. Nothing personal.”
He threw
his head back and laughed loud and deep, the vibration humming through my body.
“Fuckin’
gorgeous and funny. Makes it even better.”
“Um.” I
stalled, feeling confused. “Makes what better?”
He looked
at me as if the answer were obvious. “The promise of you, babe.”
He took a
sip of his drink and waited patiently for my response, which I couldn’t give
him, wouldn’t give him, because the last thing I wanted was for him to hear in
my shaky voice how his eyes, his words, his smoldering looks were affecting me,
making me flush all over. Like a goddamn schoolgirl.
His were
not the only eyes on me. I could feel a different kind of heat, the fury of
women who wanted me dead. Across the room a bunch of them were seated at some
of the rounds and in the booths, and they’d been watching us intently ever
since he crossed the room to me.
“Wouldn’t
one of your biker babes—” I pointed over to the herd with my chin, “—be a
better bet to score with before midnight? They certainly seem…anxious that
you’re over here.”
He smirked,
his gaze traveling from my eyes to my mouth and back. “That’s like shooting
fish in a barrel. No fun in that.”
“I get the
feeling they think you belong to them. And the way the barkeep knows your drink
tells me you’ve hung out on these barstools way more than I’m comfortable with.
Again, nothing personal, but I’m going to make sure this year is the year I
start living right. And gorgeous?” I drawled while placing my hand on my hip.
“You’ve got bad decision written all over you.”
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 my
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.
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