Breaking The Sinner (The Breaking Series Book 4)

by Ember Leigh

  “Yes.” He reached for the book in her hands and tossed it aside. “This one.”

  Their dinner had come and gone in a blur of laughter and lighthearted conversation. She was so easy to be around. And damn, the food had been good. He didn’t even admit how good he thought it was.

  But after so much time at her side, swallowing the urge to kiss her, to touch her, to yank down her shirt and see a creamy shoulder, he was about bursting.

  Gen’s brow furrowed, looking at her empty hands. “Which one?”

  Cobra grabbed her by the waist, the dip there seemingly made for his hands. She giggled as he scooped her closer, pulled her onto his lap, her legs dangling off the edge of the bed.

  “Oh,” she said. “I get it now.”

  He buried his face in the hollow of her neck. Her porcelain skin was fresh, smooth. The definition of untouched. The thought made his mind spin.

  How did he get so lucky?

  “So what item do you want to complete today?” He ran a palm over the top of her thigh, up around the thick roundness of her hip. Her head tilted away from him, bringing her neck closer to his lips.

  “I don’t know,” she said in a small voice. Her eyes drifted shut. “Just keep doing that.”

  He didn’t know what “that” was, so he didn’t change a damn thing. His palms made lazy paths across her thighs, up the swell of her hips, fingertips venturing under the hem of her shirt. Gen trembled in his arms.

  He could make her a gooey mess.

  “Do you like it?” As he stroked her, he thought of the bases, those all-important markers throughout middle school. He should probably go back to that—first base one day, second base another day. He couldn’t rush to home like he was used to. Like he wanted to.

  Gen nodded, blinking lazily. “I don’t know why it feels so good when you touch me.”

  He smiled into her hair. “Red, we’ve got some chemistry, if you haven’t noticed.”

  His words hung in the air as she stared off into space. Finally, she hooked an arm around his neck, furrowing a brow. “You mean it doesn’t feel like this with everyone?”

  He laughed again, shaking his head so his lips brushed the silken strands of her hair. “No. Definitely not.”

  “How many girls have you been with?”

  He worked his jaw back and forth. He’d lost count. Not like he’d tell her the number. She’d probably get on her knees and start praying for him. “Plenty.”

  “I should probably do some research then,” she whispered, a strange glint gracing her eyes. “To see if you really do feel the best.”

  Her suggestion burned through him, making his grip tighten around her waist. “No.”

  “What?”

  He didn’t answer right away, letting the smog of his protectiveness dissolve before he said anything else. “Just take my word for it.”

  Cobra leaned forward, snagging her lips in another kiss. She made a small noise, melting into him. When they broke apart, his cock was begging for attention, trapped hard and seeking beneath the waistband of his shorts.

  “Hey.” He broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers. “You ever heard of the bases?”

  “What bases?”

  “Like first base, second base…?”

  She shook her head.

  “Okay. Well.” He cleared his throat, shifting beneath her. His cock was right beneath her ass, and the brief friction sent a jolt through him. He could already imagine how tight her pussy would be slipping down around him for the first time. The thought made his vision fuzzy. “We’ve got these bases, right? Like in baseball. Um, first through third, then home. You know what baseball is, right?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve seen the baseball thing before. The place where they play.”

  “The diamond. So first base, in our world, is like kissing and stuff. We already made it to first base.”

  She smiled, dragging a thin finger along the neckline of his shirt. The brief contact her finger made with his skin sent shivers rippling through him. “Okay.”

  “Second base is…this.” He moved his hands over her waist, up the sides of her body, pausing below her breasts. “Except without a shirt on.”

  “Both of us?”

  He nodded. “Then third base is…the fun stuff. Like, hand jobs, blow jobs, eating you out.”

  She blinked. “Eating me out?”

  He cleared his throat, the weight of her against his cock a pressure too delicious to ignore. He shifted beneath her again. “Yeah. Oral sex. You know. My head between your legs.”

  A strange look came over her face. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Well…you might like it.” When she sent him a look of disbelief, he added, “Trust me.”

  “It doesn’t sound very appetizing. What’s home?”

  He grinned. “Home is all the way.” He gripped her by the hips, giving her a quick tug to center her on top of him. “We fuck.”

  Her breath hitched, which told him his aching cock probably brushed her in just the right area. Her cheeks reddened slightly.

  “I’ve been to home base before,” she whispered, sitting up. The movement on his dick made a low hum escape him. “With myself, I mean.”

  “But you’ve never made it to home with a guy before,” he said in a low voice, pressing his lips to her collarbone. “With me.”

  A wispy sigh escaped her.

  “What base do you wanna go to, Gen?” He tugged the tank top out of her shorts, bunching the material below her natural waist. He wet his bottom lip as he ran a thumb over the newly exposed flesh. Goosepimples erupted in its wake.

  “Uh…” She wheezed, knotting a fist into his shirt. “This feels like a trick question.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to say home. But I shouldn’t say home. I mean—”

  “You can say home,” Cobra said.

  She pressed her forehead to his. He pushed his hands up farther, finding soft heat, curves that made his fingertips tingle. She bit at her lip, arching herself toward him.

  “What base, Gen?”

  Her head lolled to the side, and she knotted her hand harder in his shirt. “First.”

  Cobra slid his hands out from under her shirt, nodding. “Whatever you want, Red.”

  She groaned. “Don’t say that. You’re so compliant. That makes it harder.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s like if I told you to strip naked right now and let me look at you, you’d do it.”

  Cobra blinked. “Do you want me to?”

  “See?” She pulled back. “That’s not helpful.”

  He snorted. “I actually think it’s the definition of helpful.”

  Gen dissolved into laughter, pressing her forehead against his. “You’re right. I need to take it slow, Cobra.” She sought out his hand, interlocking their fingers. “Can we take it slow?”

  His throat tightened, but he couldn’t say why. He nodded, searching out her emerald gaze. “You got it, Red.”

  He’d do damn near anything she asked of him.

  Gen awoke with a start, jerking beneath the sheets. She held her breath, listening to the sounds of the room.

  Distant car honks. The tick-tick-tick of the clock that she could hear from the living room with the door open.

  And that was it.

  She frowned, rolling over. Cobra was gone.

  After their near-second-base encounter, they’d started…hanging out. Like teens, Cobra had joked. But for her, it wasn’t a joke. She’d never hung out with anyone like that before. Like he could have stayed there forever. Like maybe he sort of already lived with her. Like they’d been friends since childhood.

  They flipped through books; he showed her hip-hop music on his phone; they watched stupid videos about giraffes that made Cobra laugh so hard he fell face first onto her bed. They kissed. And kissed. And then somewhere between him cracking open the drawing book and her finally peeking inside The Infidelity of the Bible…she’d fallen asleep.r />
  It was almost three a.m. Who knew when he’d left? Had he heard her snore? She sighed, turning onto her side.

  It was sort of embarrassing, though she wasn’t entirely sure why.

  And now that she was awake, it was hard to get back to sleep.

  Gen went into the kitchen for a glass of water, partly as an excuse to check if Cobra was anywhere else in the apartment. He wasn’t. Her heart sank as she poured a glass, water dribbling down her chin as she chugged it and then refilled. She hadn’t been ready to say goodbye. She never even got to say goodbye.

  And what if he ghosted now?

  Back in her room, Gen sent a text despite the hour.

  GEN: Just woke up, thinking of you. Sorry if this is too late. I can’t sleep now.

  Cobra’s response came before she could even set the phone down.

  COBRA: Welcome to my life. So thinking about me keeps you up?

  GEN: Yeah…thinking about 2nd base. And 3rd. And home.

  COBRA: :) :) :)

  COBRA: Once we go all the way, you won’t be able to think about anything else.

  Like she could think about anything else before going all the way? She hopped back into bed, cozying up to the phone like it was Cobra himself. Like maybe he might spend the night sometime. Like she could wake up to his fragrant heat, that rock-solid torso, his lips on her hairline.

  GEN: Why’d you leave?

  COBRA: You were tired. I work tomorrow.

  GEN: Then you need to go to sleep!!!

  COBRA: Can’t. Rules of insomnia.

  GEN: Have you always had insomnia?

  COBRA: Long as I can remember. Go to sleep. Night, sexy.

  Gen set her phone down like a good girl and curled into her covers once more. She stared at the window ledge across the room, her mind wandering to Cobra. The way his warm hand had crept up her tank top. The almost-guffaw he had when he thought something she said was really funny. The break in his veneer at times, which allowed her to glimpse something soft and vulnerable underneath, like looking at the little boy he used to be.

  Cobra was fascinating. He was hard-edged but soft in the middle. He gleamed with toughness but wasn’t proud enough to reject her onion-cutting class in the kitchen.

  She wanted more of him. As much as she could get. She’d see him every day if he’d let her.

  Gen burrowed into her pillow, a smile making its way onto her face.

  If nothing else, Cobra had become an important fixture in the grand hallway of her new life.

  And that was worth sinning for.

  Chapter 17

  Cobra was at work when the 559 area code number called. He was on his way to the employee lounge area, where Travis had surprised everyone with build-your-own-subs. He swiped the phone on, stopping in his tracks.

  “H’lo?”

  “Brendan.”

  Iciness slid through his veins. He hadn’t heard this voice in over a year. His mother. By biology alone. He pinched at the bridge of his nose. Usually he ignored her calls. If the voice wasn’t a clue, her use of his given name was the punch in the throat.

  “Carla.” He cleared his throat. He could hang up now. Say fuck it and not bother pretending like this was anywhere close to normal. But the tiny, flickering hope always got him. The weak ember that whispered, But she’s the only blood family you’ve got. “They must have moved you.”

  “Yeaaap. Different facility.” Her longtime smoker’s voice sounded gritty, much worse now, since she’d been incarcerated for over ten years. Probably smoking on the hour, since there weren’t many vices to latch onto on the inside. He’d been fourteen when it all went down. When she pulled the bottom out from under him, showed him that real life didn’t have happy endings.

  He stared at the lounge door. Travis walked out, deep in conversation with Lex. Cobra leaned against the wall, nodding their way.

  “What do you want?”

  “Can’t a mama just talk to her boy? Her long-lost boy?” A laugh rattled out of her. It was never that simple with her.

  “Yeah, right.” He swallowed a sick knot, feeling the dread pool in his belly. This was why he never answered her calls. The physical effects of talking to her took him days to recover from. She should have just died the day the police found his stepdad. She should have killed herself, too.

  “Wondered how you were doin’,” she said with a sigh. Then a calculated pause. “And I was wondering when you might be coming out to see me.”

  He’d visited her once. After being released from the foster system at age eighteen, part of him thought that maybe he and his mom could resolve things. Like murdering his stepdad could ever be resolved.

  That was seven years ago, and he hadn’t looked back.

  “I’m a little busy,” he said.

  “Whatcha doing?” Her tone was harsh.

  “Workin’.”

  “Oh yeah? Where at?”

  He stared at the white tiles of the floor, weighing his options. “A gym.”

  She scoffed. “Doin’ what? Feelin’ up those overblown steroid chumps?”

  His chest tightened. “I gotta go.”

  “Brendan,” she said, more urgency in her voice. “Listen, I got this idea. It’ll make me some money while I’m in here, but I need your help. I—”

  Cobra yanked the phone away from his ear, swiping the call off before he could hear more. He stared at the ground for a few bloated moments, the world around him dull and distant. Raucous laughter from down the hall pulled him out of his thoughts.

  She only ever called when she wanted something. Last time, she wanted his social security number for a loan to start a pen pal–prostitution service. Another time, she needed three hundred dollars for her boyfriend. For her fucking boyfriend. When was he going to learn? He swiped through his recent calls list and blocked the number she’d called from.

  He pushed into the employee lounge, heart racing as he tried to not think about the call. What she might have wanted. Why now?

  Gen lingered near the tiny platters of toppings at the end of the buffet line. She smiled over at him, but it fell slightly. “Hey. Why are you scowling?”

  “Am I?” He snagged a paper plate, staring at the different bread options in front of him. Wheat, white, something too seedy, another one too brown. Who even cared? He snatched up a white roll.

  “Are you upset?” She was at his side then, searching out his gaze. He couldn’t look at her. Not now.

  “No, Gen. I’m fine.”

  But even he could hear the tightness in his voice. The quiet signals of how not-fine he really was.

  Silence filled the employee lounge. He piled some deli meat on his sub. Lettuce. Tomato. He didn’t even know what he was making.

  “Cobra.” Gen was at his side again, reaching for his plate. “You just dumped the cheese everywhere.”

  He blinked. Grated cheese was all over his plate, his wrists, piled up on his sandwich. Gen took his plate from him, set it aside. Then she had both of his hands in hers. Her mossy green eyes brimmed with concern.

  “What’s going on?”

  Everything inside him screamed. Railed. Get the fuck out of here. He turned away, her confusion stuck to him like goop.

  “I’m not really hungry,” he said.

  “Cobra.” Her voice came out pinched. “Did something happen? You’re acting so strangely.”

  He shook his head, already pushing out the door. He needed some fresh air; he needed to punch the shit out of something; he needed to smoke himself to numbness.

  Cobra jogged out through the front doors before he could think better of it. Inside his car. Starting the engine.

  It wasn’t until he was two blocks from his apartment that the cloud broke. He checked his phone. His break ended in three minutes, and he couldn’t get back to the gym within a half hour even if he tried.

  Fuck it. He clenched and unclenched his jaw, gripping his phone as he contemplated what to do next. He didn’t want to go back there. He needed the rest of
the day to decompress. To stuff the leak that his mom had created eleven years ago when she murdered the only decent human being in his life.

  Gen didn’t know what she was getting into. If she was smart, she’d stay far away from his mess. He was a loser. A fuckup. Someone who couldn’t even stay at work without his demons chasing him out.

  When he got to the parking lot of his apartment building, he cut the engine and stared at his phone. What to do? His heart thumped a little louder, considering the consequences. His M.O. was to say nothing. Let the pieces fall where they fell. He could call Travis, maybe, and make up some bullshit story…but no, that was trying too hard.

  When the seeping heat of the early afternoon started crowding him out of the car, his phone buzzed. Holt Body Fitness. His stomach pitched to his feet. Here it was.

  He picked up the phone, thumb poised to swipe it to silent. But at the last moment, he chose to answer it. Bewildering even himself. He brought the phone to his ear.

  “Hey, Travis.”

  “Cobra. You okay, buddy?” Genuine concern filled Travis’s voice. “Gen told me you had to leave because of your cousin. Just wanted to check that everything was gonna be okay.”

  Cobra drew a low breath, pressing his forehead to the steering wheel. Red. She’d come through for him. When he least deserved it. Relief staggered through his chest, and he had to pause for the wave of emotion to crest and dissipate before he could speak.

  “Yeah. Sorry, man. I woulda told you myself, but it happened fast.” He cleared his throat, squeezing the steering wheel. “Hopefully my cousin’s gonna be fine. I’ll be back tomorrow morning for sure.”

  Cobra hung up the phone, staring at the battered steel door that led to his hallway. By now, the heat had sunk into him, urging him outside. He pushed open the door, one foot dangling out.

  He didn’t have to go to work, but he didn’t want to go inside his apartment either. It would be a cesspool in there. The same dank, shadowy hole waiting to consume him. Snuff out any inkling of advance or motivation.