Lawbreaker (Unbreakable Book 3)

by Kat Bastion

  “My family sucked.”

  There. I admitted I had one. For the first time in eight years.

  Ben did that analyzing-stare thing. “Sucked. That’s a past tense there.”

  “Flaunting those awesome observation skills again.” I had to tease him; it helped chill the heat on me. And I took his bait, shared something important about me, but only so deep. The idea of exposing painful secrets made my heart race, froze my lungs.

  “Are they dead?” He furrowed his brows slightly, voice softening.

  I gusted out a lungful of air. “To me they are.” My tone flattened. I didn’t like where the conversation had headed. I took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to divert it.

  “It’s why you’re on your own, isn’t it?”

  He’d been beating around that bush for a while. Time for us to end the dance we’d been doing. And there opened up my diversion: talking about me, not...them.

  “Ask me what you really want to know.”

  His eyes narrowed a fraction. But I couldn’t tell if he’d reacted to my harsh tone or if he was trying to gauge the safety of going there.

  Yet all of a sudden, I wanted him to know, needed him to see me...the real me.

  I tilted my head. “Ask me,” I pleaded on a whisper.

  “You’re a runaway, aren’t you?”

  Bam. There it is.

  “I ran away.” An action, not a label. The one act of bravery that had set me free didn’t cast me in a negative light. It had defined me, but in a different way. The best kind of independent way.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Bad enough.” My clipped tone signaled that was the end of it—all he’d get from me. But I’d fessed-up. It was a beginning and something I needed him to know in order to go any further.

  Ben’s image blurred, and I realized my eyes had misted over with tears. I firmed my lips and drew in a steadying breath.

  With a sudden headshake, I forced out a laugh. “It’s why I like your family.” I glanced across the busy dining room at Cade, who stood by the hostess stand near the lobby, then toward the kitchen, where Kiki had disappeared.

  He nodded. “For us, the family we choose is most important.”

  “It’s why I wanted to work at Loading Zone. Word on the street is that it’s one big family.”

  The corner of his lips twitched. “Is that the word on the street?”

  In a flash, his amusement vanished as his mouth fell into a frown. He blinked.

  “It’s okay, Ben. I’m not ashamed of how I made my way, where I grew up. I’m proud of it. And yeah, that’s the word on the street. Which is where I do not live, by the way.”

  Relief washed over his face. “Good. I was worried about that.”

  “I could tell. I should’ve dragged it out longer.”

  He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Right. Because I still deserve to be punished.”

  “About you firing me? Forever.” I meant it. But only a little. My slow smile gave me away. But teasing him took the sting out of a painful topic. “So, what were you thinking? A cardboard box? Homeless shelter?”

  He leaned back and played with the corner of his napkin. “I didn’t know what to think after meeting that hulking guy in the alley. And learning that was the first place you ran to and seeing how he protected you, it seemed like your safe place, your comfort zone.”

  “It is. One of them, anyway. And Bear is as close to family as I’ve got. Rafe too.” No point in mentioning Trin. That’d really freak you out.

  Ben swallowed hard. Then he leaned forward and slid his hand across the table until it covered mine. “But not close enough.”

  Like real family. To totally let go—believe. I shook my head. “It’s hard to let that happen.”

  “You have to be able to trust.”

  “Something I’m not big on. At all.”

  “Yeah, I got that. It’s okay. Trust takes time. In small steps. Speaking of, how does getting together tomorrow sound?”

  His large hand still covered mine, warmth radiating over my knuckles, the back of my hand. But the intimate contact sizzled through my skin, raced through my body...electric. I swallowed hard. Took a deep breath. “I thought we’re getting together now.”

  “Aha. I knew I had a chance.” Mischief glittered in his eyes. He’d loaded innuendo into it.

  Okay. I’ll go there. “Maybe a chance.” Oh, he had more than a chance. I’d already decided.

  “Tomorrow midday? And into the night?” His tone lightened with hope.

  More time, is what he’d meant. And he’d emphasized his last word, asking for far more than time.

  The idea of offering him more—sharing all of myself—both excited and frightened me all at once. But then, the best kind of adventures always did. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  “And us getting together now?”

  I blinked. The same low heat from his hand seemed to flare hotter, spiking and snapping through me. I sucked in a gasping breath and glanced up at him.

  He arched a brow, challenge and amusement in his expression.

  Okay. He wanted to play a little wilder? I could play too. Toss it right out there in the open. “As in sex? Tonight?”

  “If you want.” He shrugged, like no big. “Probably later tonight. He gripped the edge of the table, then shoved down on it hard enough to make it rattle. “Not sure about here and now. Might break the table.”

  “Not to mention scandalize all the people around us.”

  “So, you prefer somewhere private, then. Good to know.”

  “Says Mr. Straight and Narrow,” I muttered.

  When I glanced up, we locked gazes. Sensual danger smoldered in his eyes.

  I swallowed hard again. Then I decided to come clean. I leaned forward to lower my voice. He leaned forward too. Our lips hovered close enough to touch if we eased in just a little further. I whispered, “I’ve never done that before.”

  He angled his head an inch to the left, a slow smile curving his lips. “Sex on a table? Or in public? Should I be taking notes?”

  All or nothing, Shay. The real you. “Yes. Yes. And if you want to takes notes, up to you. But I’ve also never done...sex...at all.”

  All readable expression faded from his face—a total blank, as if every thought, smartass quip, or comeback he’d been formulating had fallen right out of his head.

  Then he gave a heavy blink. “You’re a virgin.”

  “There you go again, master of the obvious.”

  Understanding seemed to dawn on him, like everything I’d revealed so far had fallen into place. “Because you don’t easily trust.”

  The symptom not the cause. But close enough. I gave him a slow nod.

  “But you trust me.” His tone softened, reverent.

  Oddly, I did. Not one part of me doubted my decision. “Again with the obvious. Don’t make me change my mind,” I teased.

  He held up his hands in surrender, breaking our sizzling contact. Which helped me breathe.

  I almost laughed, but I got it; he was surprised. Me too...that he’d worked his way into my heart deep enough to convince me to take the plunge.

  “Hey, it’s not like I don’t know how it works. I’ve watched plenty of porn.”

  “Porn.” He stared at me like I’d spoken some foreign language.

  “Sex movies.”

  “I know what porn is.” His warm hand slid forward to cover mine again.

  “Why the shock?”

  “That’s not what we’ll be doing.”

  I blinked. “It’s not?”

  “Well, the mechanics of it, yeah.”

  “None of the positions?” I eased my hand back, turned it palm up, then glided it back under his, enjoying the new sensation of his hand across my fingertips.

  His cheeks started to pink. But then his lips twisted into a smirk. “Which positions?”

  Oh. I’d stumbled right into that one. My skin warmed again until it sizzled into my veins.

 
Then I took a flying leap, stripping the threat away by tossing it out in the open, in the middle of a busy restaurant.

  “Me on top. You on top.” Basic. Not scary. But then, I didn’t want him to think I only wanted safe. “From behind. Against the wall.”

  He sucked in a slow breath. “Great positions. To start.”

  His gaze smoldered with that edgy danger again, like he imagined each and every one.

  I exhaled a slow breath. “But not tonight.”

  “Agreed.”

  Okay, cool. We stayed on the same page about the slow buildup, had lingered there since we’d met. Together, we’d just cranked up the heat.

  Kiki appeared out of nowhere, a small plate balanced on one hand, two spoons held in the other. “Happy birthday from us all, but the flourless chocolate cake is compliments of Hannah. She refuses to waddle out here with her stole-a-whole-watermelon belly. And Cade vetoed me running out to buy sombreros for table-singing, even with your Mexican-themed dinner.”

  I beamed that they’d even thought about it. “Thanks, Kiki. Please tell everyone thanks.”

  “Ditto,” Ben said with a look of gratitude.

  We each took an offered spoon and Kiki vanished. The white plate had what appeared to be a cocoa-dusted cylindrical doorstop, with two plump raspberries nestled on a sprig of mint off to the side. Separate drizzles of dark chocolate and raspberry sauce latticed around the edge.

  Ben angled his face low, catching my gaze. “Happy birthday, Shay.”

  I smiled. “Thank you.” For giving me my best birthday ever.

  As we took turns digging spoons into dense chocolate—the best damn moan-worthy chocolate I’d ever tasted—the conversation wandered into lighter non-sex topics. We agreed on a lot of things, like the insanity of current politics, why cream soda beat root beer, and that no one can multitask, therefore all distractions should be banned from moving vehicles, like cell phones and screaming kids.

  “Ugh.” I leaned back, rubbing my full belly.

  “Oh, she does have a food limit.”

  “Yup.” I groaned. “Tilt.”

  “Still, I have no idea where you pack all those calories. You’re in great shape.”

  “I don’t.” I reflected on typical days, the places I hustled, the amount of ground I covered. “I burn them. I walk everywhere, probably a good five to ten miles a day.”

  His expression turned impressed.

  That’s nothing. On my favorite bonus days, I scale rock faces and climb trees.

  The night wound to an end shortly after we finished dessert. But I’d had a great time; Ben gifted me the best first date I could’ve imagined and a birthday celebration I’d cherish forever.

  When we stepped into the parking lot, his hand slipped into mine. “So, I don’t get to take you home, do I?”

  “No.” Not tonight.

  “But it’s customary to kiss at the end of the first date, before she opens her front door.”

  “You know I’ve never been customary.” I tugged on his hand, leading him toward the park. “Kiss me” —I drew in a deep breath at my words, a hot thrill racing through me— “at the edge of the parking lot. It’s practically my front door.”

  When we reached the edge, where asphalt met grass, he tugged me to a halt, then pulled me toward him. He stared into my eyes. “You know I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the golf course.”

  I pressed my hands over his beating heart, remembering how amazing our closeness had felt on the fairway. It felt more incredible now. “I know.”

  “What you may not know is that I wanted to kiss you at the driving range.”

  “I knew that too,” I murmured.

  “And at the bar?”

  “The night you fired me?”

  “Damnedest thing.” His gaze lowered to my mouth. “Those lips spat out such fire. And yet those same full, luscious lips were begging to be kissed.”

  “You sure about that?”

  Challenge fired in his eyes. “Deny it.”

  “Yours belted out nothing but ego.” The only truth I could admit to. Because I wasn’t so sure I hadn’t wanted to kiss him back then. I’d been trembling with fury. But the scorching heat of that night and the slow burn of everything that had followed had continued—had smoldered ever hotter.

  “Ego is all I’ve known. How I’ve survived.” His eyes searched mine. “But I was wrong. You humble me now.”

  My heart warmed at his confession.

  Time for one more of mine. I let out a shaky breath. “I’ve never been kissed.”

  “How old are you again?” His voice lowered, softened, humor edging his tone.

  Old enough. But our battle had ended. It had begun in a fierce fight over proving my age, but had become more about the principle, about faith...trust. There was no point in fighting him—or myself—anymore. We had nothing left to prove. We’d already won. We stood in each other’s arms in spite of the scars we bore...maybe because of them.

  And still, even though he’d already reasoned out my age—the spark of our whole explosion—I spoke it aloud, offered the information again, from my heart to his, freely given.

  “Nineteen.”

  “You’re long overdue.”

  “Seems” —I let out a shaky breath, struggling to think as my pulse began to race— “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  His strong arms banded around me. Firm fingertips pressed against my lower back.

  But his body remained relaxed, like he safeguarded me but refused to cage me.

  And I didn’t feel trapped. I wanted to be where I stood. With Ben.

  Nothing’s ever felt more right.

  The next seconds began to slow, like time unfolded one heartbeat at a time—just for us.

  His head lowered and his protective hold around me tightened.

  My breaths quickened as every nerve ending zinged to life.

  Soft lips brushed over my whole mouth, but he placed a tiny gentle kiss to one corner, then feathered a glide across to press a matching small kiss to the other.

  Warm breath fanned over my chin.

  Aching heat flared everywhere else, from deep inside, spreading outward...and lower.

  Eyes drifted shut: his, then mine.

  All at once, we full-blown connected. Lips pressed together, softly at first, then harder, demanding. Mine opened on a gasp as the building ache flashed hot between my legs.

  He groaned low, as if pleased by my reaction, as his tongue dragged across my lower lip, then slid inside my mouth.

  My tongue glided along his, testing, tasting. Ben smelled of earth and sunshine. He tasted of wild danger and endless dreams.

  Our ragged breaths came in shortened gasps for air.

  I gripped his shoulders, hanging on for balance as the earth seemed to tilt under my feet.

  He growled as he kissed me harder, demanded more.

  Then, as quickly as it had all started, everything slowed once more. Our lips softened again, tasting, sipping. Our breaths began to steady. His fierce hold around me relaxed, infinitesimally.

  My tight grip on his shoulders remained, though. With my spinning head and wobbly knees, I didn’t trust myself to stand upright should he let me go.

  He didn’t.

  One last incredibly softened kiss, one more taste of dangerous sexy male, and the amazing moment faded away like a fantasy, even as it imprinted on my flesh, seared my very soul.

  “Wow,” I whispered as we eased apart, blown away. “That’s some first kiss.”

  “Wow.” His whisper gusted out with ten times the ferocity.

  And as he held me, he stared at me in wonder, as if he’d never been kissed like that before, had never been affected by another the way I affected him.

  I held on to him a moment more, heart still racing, breaths still ragged.

  But then, I let go of his shoulders. “Tomorrow.” I promised.

  “Tomorrow.” He gave me a nod, then released his hold. But his expression grew uncertain. L
ike if he relented and let me vanish into my park, what we’d shared might all poof into nothing but a dream.

  I turned and vanished anyway, without even one look back. Maybe he needed assurances, but I needed my control more, my freedom to choose, to do things my way, at my pace.

  With Ben’s amazing taste on my lips, my body zinging, and my heart soaring, I began to smile. Then I charged off at a full run, straight toward my forest, back to where the trees kept all secrets, night creatures sang with hope, and a crisp wind blew everything clean...whole and new.

  Oh, crap. Something new had happened.

  I hovered at the edge of the forest, at the perimeter of Miss Princess Persephone’s yard, breath held in disbelief.

  A room at the back of the house had a light on.

  Had they installed light timers? Doubtful. In eight years, they hadn’t changed a thing: no security system, no light timers, same housesitting agency. I thought about the gun, then forcefully blocked it from my mind. Not helpful.

  Could I have accidentally left it on?

  No.

  Every time I entered any house, I methodically swept the premises, light switches included. Nothing had been left on when I’d arrived.

  And I sure as hell hadn’t switched on anything when I’d been in there.

  With leaden footsteps and a heavy heart, I walked toward the front of the house to view the porte cochere. My pulse double-timed and my chest tightened with dread as I rounded the corner. But I gasped when I actually saw it: a black SUV parked between me and the front door.

  “Fuck,” I bit out under my breath. My stuff was in there, my backpack and duffel.

  After a few steadying breaths, my spine straightened with determination. In the deep reaches of my heart and mind, I saw the obstacle not as a roadblock but as a test.

  Silent as the calm before a storm, I slid my trusty key into the deadbolt lock, opened the front door wide enough to slip inside, then eased it shut behind me. On a slow exhale, I grasped the bronze thumbturn and gradually rotated until I heard the snick of the lock.

  When I spun around in the darkness, I sensed a presence there with me.

  Then I glanced down.

  A creaky half-meow squeaked out.

  “Shoo, Persie!” I whispered, as if she’d understand my desperate order.