He stood and I shimmied out of his enormous sweatpants which slid easily over the boots, only making me stumble slightly. I would take off the sweatshirt when we got there. It was too cold to think about only being in a lightweight tee any longer than necessary.
“Alright,” I said, looking up to find him watching me, his eyes guarded.
He gave me a chin lift and made his way to the door. “Keep the hood up until I've driven around enough to make sure we don't have a tail.”
I nodded, but added, “None of his cars are here.”
Breaker looked back over his shoulder at me, brows drawn slightly in, but said nothing.
His truck was nice. Something my chemical-induced unconsciousness hadn't allowed me to notice the night before. New, black, expensive, massive. Breaker made bank. As I climbed up, having to haul my body upward with the use of the hold bar, I absently wondered about where a man like him lived.
Hell, for all I knew, he had some kind of apartment in that warehouse somewhere.
That almost seemed to suit him.
“You gonna get out or sit there all day?” he asked, making me start.
I had been so lost in my own little world I hadn't even realized he had parked and cut the engine. I pulled my seatbelt and reached for the hem of my shirt, dragging it quickly up and off.
“Sure you want to go in there like that?” he asked casually, but it made a shock of insecurity shoot through my system.
In typical me-fashion, I turned that insecurity to anger. “What's wrong with what I have on? If you don't like my clothes then maybe you shouldn't have come into my apartment and...”
The sentence trailed off when his big palm brushed over my breast, running over the cold-hardened nipple that wasn't hidden beneath the protection of a bra.
I felt myself gasp, my eyes finding his, expecting to see amusement or teasing. But all I could see there was heat. His gaze held mine, his thumb moving to stroke over the point that was suddenly hard for an altogether different reason.
“Breaker...” I breathed and he exhaled his breath hard, letting his hand drop. “Just sayin', his eyes are gonna be on your tits the whole time.”
And with that, he got out and slammed the door.
I took a shaky breath and slowly lowered myself down onto the street, going around the truck, and hurrying inside the building.
The tall, fit, drop dead sexy blonde at the reception desk ran her eyes over me before settling on Breaker and giving him a soul-crushing smile. Which, in my opinion, was incredibly unprofessional of her. For all she knew, he belonged to me. Hell, he had just gotten a little over the shirt action in the car just seconds before.
“What can I help you with today?” she asked, sounding like her services might include a blow job if he asked real nicely.
“We need to see Shane,” I offered and her eyes slid back to me, one of her perfect blonde brows raising.
“Mr. Mallick doesn't...”
“Tell him it's Alex,” I cut her off. “And tell him it's important.”
She pressed her lips together like she was trying to keep her opinion to herself, picked up the phone, and started speaking into it.
“He will be right out,” she said to me, then put her focus back on Breaker, giving him a very slow, very thorough inspection. “Might I ask how you keep in shape now?”
“He pounds skulls together,” a familiar voice said, coming from beside her.
I turned to see Shane walk up.
Now there's one thing about Shane Mallick that everyone knows (aside from the fact that if he showed up at your door with a crowbar, you needed to look down at your kneecaps, thank them for a lifetime of service, and kiss them goodbye), was that he was big. As in huge. A mammoth of a man. Yes, because he was tall, but also because he owned a gym and spent a lot of time in it. He, like all of the Mallick brothers, was ridiculously good looking. All black hair and light blue eyes. And, also like all of the other Mallick brothers, he was vicious, violent, ruthless, foul-mouthed, and charming as hell.
“Shane,” Breaker said, nodding his head at the man walking up.
“Bryan,” Shane said back, doing a similar chin-life thing.
Bryan?
Bryan?
What a tame, normal name for such a wild, unusual man.
He told me his last name was Breaker.
So that made him Bryan Breaker.
Hell, it even sounded like a name for a criminal. He never stood a chance at a straight life.
“The fuck you doin'...” he trailed off, his gaze landing on me. And I got to watch in stunned silence as his face transformed from just average everyday hot guy to devilishly handsome flirt. And, let me tell you, it was a damn sight to see. “Alex, baby,” he said, his deep voice seeping into my skin. Then he was moving behind Breaker, slapping him on the shoulder as he did so, and came to stand by me. No, not by me. He took all my space. My breasts practically brushed his chest. And, as Breaker had predicted, his eyes went right to my tits before sliding slowly back up to find my face.
“Hey Shane,” I said, annoyed that my voice came out a little airy. I really didn't want him. Not in the least. I knew his reputation. He was a complete horndog. But someone didn't tell my very confused libido that it would be a good time for it to disappear again.
“Shane,” a female voice clipped and I saw a smile tug at his lips hearing it. “Get your eyes off her fucking tits and take a step out of her personal space or I am going to chop off your balls and wear them around as earrings.”
And that's when I saw her.
And she made Gym-Brat Barbie look like a peasant.
Because she was simply... sexy as all hell.
I didn't even like chicks, but damn, I'd do her.