My Little Secret (The Breaking Series Book 3)

by Ember Leigh

  I propped my head up on my hand, watching as he peered through the slit in the curtain. His classically handsome features were wrought into concern. Brute was a beefsteak—slabs of cut muscle, the most formidable opponent when it came to playing steamroller as a kid. His legal name was Stanford, but that fell out of favor once he snagged the nickname Brute by mercilessly barreling over his classmates in pee-wee football. Now, the IRS was the only one who called him by his given name.

  But despite the external hardness his eyes were soft, something I’d always loved about him. A light brown that betrayed all his emotions, or maybe I was one of few who could read them. When he looked over at me, insecurity danced through his gaze.

  We’d had these roles since childhood. I knew how to build him up. And he knew how to protect me, make me feel safe.

  “You already know exactly what you need to say to him to keep the upper hand.” Usually I’d coach him on those words, but it felt wrong in the afterglow of those orgasms to talk shit about Hawk. “You could say it in your sleep.”

  “Yep. Dirty fighter.” He ticked off one finger. “Trash talking loudmouth.” He ticked off another finger. “Blowing up the tabloids for attention like a D-list celebrity.”

  “See? You’ve got it.” My stomach turned, and I gathered the covers around me. “Now I need to go to bed.”

  “You coming to lunch?”

  “Does it look like it?” I harrumphed and burrowed into the covers. “I’ll be around for dinner. You guys can survive without me for a few hours. Your social media accounts are scheduled three days in advance, so don’t worry about a hiccup.”

  “I was just worried about you, sis.” He swatted at my hair and then squeezed my shoulder through the comforter. “Rest up so you can go back to micromanaging my life.”

  I rolled my eyes, though he couldn’t see it, and listened as his footsteps headed toward the door. When the door shut I snickered, finally allowing the humor to sink in. He always ribbed me about how his little sister controlled most aspects of his life, and I didn’t bother reminding him that he begged me to take the reins of his public persona and paid me handsomely to do so. It was just one of those sibling things.

  But the smile fell quickly. Not only was I the copilot for plotting out his public feuds, I gave him the fodder he needed to be able to attack his enemies.

  What I’d done with Hawk was wrong. I wasn’t supposed to have sex with the man I had personally helped smear in the tabloids. I’d dug up dirt about his family (absent father, fame-seeking mother), his sexual history (lots of slutty actresses in his past, never seen with the same girl twice), even his university years (former business major until his MMA fights became too lucrative). If I found out my one-night stand had a similar file on me…it would feel too gross for words.

  I pinched my eyes shut, trying to keep the guilt from consuming me. Even though I’d done all that, I’d always been drawn to Hawk. And now that I knew him, I didn’t believe half of what I’d whispered into Brute’s ear about him.

  But that didn’t mean I should talk to him ever again.

  I needed to leave it a one-night-stand.

  Even though every cell in my body was desperate for more.

  Chapter 6

  HAWK

  The world knew me as a strong man, but by day three of showing up at the bar I’d met Sadie in, hoping that she’d return and find me, I knew I was weaker than weak.

  My assistant trainer suspected something was up when I’d shown up for practice that first day in town with bags under my eyes and the slowest response time of my career. At least Travis wasn’t in town yet to see how badly I’d practiced. I’d fucked up big time staying up so late with Sadie, but I couldn’t feel bad about it if I tried. With just under two weeks until match day, I’d get into the swing of things again.

  As long as I didn’t put my hands on Sadie again.

  Wouldn’t be a hard thing to achieve, since she’d bolted early in the morning without leaving me any way to contact her. The disappointment nearly buckled my knees when I woke up.

  We’d had an intimate night. An amazing night. We had a to-do list, for God’s sake. Her leaving like that showed me I must have been wrong about her.

  Even though it still felt like I wasn’t.

  Maybe that was why I kept showing up to this goddamn bar, hoping she’d waltz up to my seat, right where I’d been the night she sent that drink my way. I arrived each night just before nine, as I had the first time. But how long would I keep this up without any results? I could only come to this bar for water so many times before the truth sank in: Sadie had been a firework show in the long night of my love life. A reminder that sweet, fun moments could wrench my heart open, but I had no way to control it, no way to even count on it.

  I didn’t know what to do with that.

  I stayed for an hour each night. That seemed like a fair compromise. I checked my phone as I sipped on water. Still had a half hour left. Plenty of time for her to come and make me feel like less of an idiot. Like maybe we’d shared something cool and rare.

  The bartender refilled my glass. This time I asked for a lime wedge. Just to shake things up. He brought one for me, and I poked at it in the glass of water, feeling glum.

  I glanced back at the door. No Sadie. I was officially wasting my time. Tonight had to be the last night I’d wait. But maybe just tomorrow night too, to be sure…

  I zoned out, checking my phone occasionally as social media alerts lit up the screen. Lots of new comments on the teaser promo we’d released in advance of my big interview with Brute, my opponent here in Denver. He and I had an infamous rivalry going, something that enthralled fans but also irritated the fuck out of me. He constantly took shots at my personal life, accusing me of bogus shit. He seemed like an insecure little corndog. I didn’t even know the guy, but he came after me as if I’d fucked his sister. Some of these guys just lived on drama. He was newer to the fight scene, so maybe he was trying to make a splash. Or maybe just trying to compensate for a tiny dick.

  After I downed my last glass of water, I checked my phone again. Time for the sad truth. Sadie wasn’t here. Again. I fished my wallet out of my back pocket, so I could leave the bartender a nice tip for feeding me tap water all night. A hand slid over my shoulder, and I froze, goosebumps shivering up and down my back.

  “Hawk.”

  I blinked once, already knowing who it was. I turned slowly, hesitant to believe it. Sadie looked back at me, a wry smile on her face. I clenched my jaw to suppress the wave of relief that threatened my cool.

  “Look who it is.” I abandoned the search for my wallet, leaning back into my bar chair. “Little Miss Runaway.”

  She smirked, sliding onto the bar stool next to me. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled into a loose bun, an off-the-shoulder sweatshirt visible beneath her parka. Like maybe she’d come here after the gym…or maybe after she’d thought better of it.

  “I told you, I had to leave that morning.” She flagged down the bartender, and I gobbled up the sight of her. Being next to her was like a drug. Every nerve ending in my body lit up. “I hoped I might find you here.”

  I bit my tongue before I could admit I’d been coming here exclusively hoping to see her. “Yeah, it’s my hangout now, I guess.”

  “How was training the next day?” She nudged me with her shoulder.

  “Hell.” I cracked a grin, trying not to let the memories of our night cloud my brain. I battled that enough already. “What about you? Did you make it to work?”

  “Barely. I think everyone in a mile radius could sense the sex glow.” The bartender arrived, and she ordered a glass of red wine.

  “Put it on my tab,” I said before the bartender walked away.

  She grinned. “That’s sweet.”

  “You better drink it fast,” I told her. “We don’t have much time.”

  Sadie lifted a perfectly sculpted brow. Certain expressions reminded me of the glossy models in magazines. She was beauti
ful in a conventional way, but even more beautiful in a way that I couldn’t even explain. “Why’s that?”

  “Bedtime’s coming soon.” I tapped a non-existent watch. “We’ve got a lot to do.”

  She didn’t look away from me as the bartender poured her glass of wine right in front of her. “We can’t finish that list all in one night.”

  “That’s okay. We’ve got plenty of nights left.” I draped my arm over the back of her chair. “Gotta use our time wisely. Might even have to start meeting up for dinner soon, too.”

  Sadie smiled furtively behind the lip of her wine glass. “That seems quite serious.”

  “It is.” I watched as she took a generous sip of wine. “I’m going to need your number.”

  “I like how you asked that,” she said, pinching her lips into a curious little smile. “You didn’t even ask at all.”

  “Should I rephrase?”

  “No. It’ll work.” She jerked her chin toward me. “Get out your phone, stud.”

  I couldn’t fight the grin as I fished out my phone. Already my cheeks hurt a little from smiling. Sadie had that effect on me, bigtime.

  She gave me her number, and then said, “Don’t send me a million texts a day professing your love, okay? I have enough of those guys in my life.”

  “Too many fans, huh?”

  She scoffed. “You’d think I was the professional fighter on the top ten sexiest list instead of you.”

  I ran my thumb over the bar top. I was desperate to touch her, but maybe I should stay away from the public displays. Negative press right now would be bad. “Those lists are rigged.”

  “Actually, I think your looks are rigged,” she said with a pointed look. “You deserved to be number one, not number four.”

  Somehow, it was touching that she knew my rank on those stupid things. “You mad about it? You could write to the editor, you know.”

  “Already did.” She took a cool sip of wine.

  “You gotta be up early tomorrow?” I leaned closer, so our arms brushed.

  “Yeah, but not for work. Why, you have something in mind?”

  “Thought you could come over to my place again,” I said.

  She sipped at her wine before responding. “I could be convinced.”

  “I doubt you need convincing.” I narrowed my eyes at her.

  “Oh, really?”

  “You came looking for me tonight,” I reminded her.

  She laughed low, leaning in to whisper hotly in my ear. “But you were here waiting for me.”

  Goosebumps flared on my forearms. “Finish your wine.”

  She giggled, taking the last pull of her wine. When she set the glass down, I stood, motioning to the bartender. She slid on her jacket while I paid, and we hurried back to my hotel, words stuck in my throat from anticipation and the frigid night air. I’d been imagining this moment since the morning she left. Desperate for more of those kisses…more of her.

  In the lobby of my hotel, she grabbed my hand, sending me a secret smile. All I could do was smile back. Fuck the eyes that might see us.

  Upstairs in my room, I waited until the door clicked shut before I covered her mouth with mine. She melted into me, pliable and willing, clutching at my face as one kiss turned into a hundred. That exotic vanilla scent she wore filled my nostrils as her fingernails dug into my jaw, sending an electric current up my spine.

  I don’t know how long we stayed there, pressed against the wall by the door. It felt like seconds but also hours. When we finally broke for air, my head was spinning. She was a pure drug.

  “Jeez, you really missed me,” she purred.

  “That’s an understatement.” I pulled back, helping her slide her coat off. “But I have to be good this time.”

  “What do you mean, ‘good’?”

  “I can’t do the thing I want to do most.” I hung her coat by the door, then took my own off.

  “Oh, you mean make lasagna from scratch?”

  I snorted. “Right. Among other things.”

  “I’d imagine eating lasagna would be on the list of prohibited activities,” she mused, wandering into the other room. She flopped onto a couch in the living area, looking up at me with mischief in her eyes. “Along with penetration and orgasm.”

  “Mmm.” I stood over her, enjoying the view of her splayed across the couch. She had no bad angles. Or maybe I just loved looking at her too much. “It’s hot when you use clinical terms.”

  “Erection,” she countered.

  “Go on.”

  “Angioplasty.”

  I burst into laughter. “That’s where ‘erection’ leads to in your mind?”

  “I don’t play by your rules.”

  I slipped into the spot next to her, pulling her into my arms. She fit like a puzzle piece I hadn’t realized was missing. “That’s obvious. But I think I like your rules better.”

  I drifted my fingertips over the exposed skin of her chest, down under the collar of her loose sweatshirt. One hand settled in the valley between her breasts, and my other hand drifted over the soft fabric of her clothes, creeping ever closer to her hips.

  When my fingers danced at the waist of her leggings, she tensed. I nuzzled the side of her head.

  “You really don’t have a problem going straight for the gold, do you?” she murmured.

  “Why waste my time with anything less than gold?” My fingertips crested the waistline of her panties, pushing into a damp heat that sent jolts through my body. “I like watching you get off.”

  She shivered in my arms, and I didn’t waste any time. I stroked her swollen clit through the silky fabric of her panties, alternating between slow circles and rough pinches. She arched and groaned in my arms. I stuffed my hand into her panties, mesmerized by the play of emotions on her face. I slipped my other hand into her bra, cupping that full breast, tweaking her nipple in time with my strokes. I slipped my middle finger inside her, and then another, deep into that tight, silky heat. I pumped my fingers in and out, loving the slosh of her fluids, the way she writhed in my arms.

  “Jesus, Hawk,” she moaned, “you’re too fucking good at this.”

  I breathed into her ear, then nibbled on her earlobe. Her movements went jerky, breath coming out in desperate pants. She moaned low, throaty and erotic, and then her body went rigid. Her pussy contracted around my fingers, a rush of moisture coating me. Her mouth parted, eyes pinched shut, as she came and came and came.

  In the aftermath, she clung to my forearm, breathing heavily.

  “That was hot,” I whispered, still lazily stroking her clit over her panties.

  “I didn’t realize that was the first thing on the list,” she breathed.

  I buried my face in her hair, my cock throbbing into her low back. That would get attention another day. Slow and deliberate sex with her, as a post-fight celebration, seemed the best prize I could give myself. “It’s on every day’s checklist.”

  “You’re a dream,” she said. “How can I say no to that?”

  I smiled, pressing a kiss to the hollow of her neck. “You’re not supposed to.”

  Chapter 7

  SADIE

  I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I didn’t even know what I thought I was doing. Ten days deep into Denver and each night, Hawk’s fingers were buried even deeper inside me. We’d been texting since that second night in his hotel room, and the man was a keeper—witty, smart, obsessed with getting me off. Not to mention his rank on the sexiest men in the world list. I even knew his real name now—Robert. He’d been little Robbie Romano at one point in his life and this knowledge did not help with containing the sporadic giggles whenever we chatted.

  I just couldn’t figure out where to go from here. It was easy enough to keep Hawk to an after-work sort of thing: meet up at his place in the evening, or even a dinner out. I knew where Brute and my parents would be going, so it was easy to avoid them. But Hawk’s text earlier that morning had thrown me for a loop. It was simple, unassuming
.

  “Try something new tonight? Your place?”

  But oh, holy hell, the waves of guilt this inspired. Because just one thought of what ‘Hawk at my place’ could turn into was enough to send me into a panic attack. Brute walking into my room early the next morning, jaw clattering to the floor when he spotted Hawk in my bed. A UFC-worthy fight erupting in the hallway. Blood smears on the floral wallpaper. Newspaper headlines for days.

  It would be a PR nightmare even I couldn’t handle. Namely because I was too implicated to handle anything anymore.

  The door to the hotel conference room pushed open. We were renting this space for the duration of our stay, a makeshift Brute HQ. My office space on the daily.

  “What’s up, sis?” Brute sat in a chair at the far end of the glass-topped conference table. He began a slow swivel, back and forth, the chair creaking.

  “Just working on today’s promo spots.” I cleared my throat, clicking through some screens as I sat in front of my laptop, surrounded by papers. “We need to make a video soon where you mention the energy drink.” It was part of his sponsorship deal. Five little video spots on his social media accounts where he’s seen consuming or promoting the drink.

  “Oh, that’s today?” He nodded, staring off into space. “I went over the lines already. I’m good to go.”

  “And then, tomorrow…”

  His face went stony. “Yeah.”

  Silence fell, but it was only awkward for me. I’d been practicing what I’d say to him about this press conference for days now. Ever since I realized that if I attended this press conference there was no way in hell I could avoid Hawk seeing me. And I did not want this to be the way my secret came out.

  “You’re gonna do awesome,” I reminded him, gnawing on my bottom lip. “I’ll have it on in the room.”

  His brows drew together. “What do you mean ‘in the room’?”

  “Here, in the hotel room.” I tried to sound as nonchalant as possible.

  “Why wouldn’t you be there?”