Page 2 of Rulebreaker (Gamebreakers #4)

TWO

Lily

I’ve reached a level of success where I surround myself with as much luxury as necessary to make me comfortable, so I’ve been on my share of private planes, but Atlas’s jet is… something else.

I’m still a little tipsy from our evening at the Sapphire Room, but I’m a lot intrigued by the good looking, if somewhat uptight, billionaire who invited me to fly to Denver with him.

Now that I’m here, I can’t help but take in my surroundings.

Leather seats that recline all the way back based on the demonstration the flight attendant just gave me.

A big-screen TV on one wall and then smaller ones attached to each seat for personal viewing.

A dining room style table with eight chairs obviously meant for shared meals and meetings.

A bedroom in the back.

And the bathroom I’m in the process of using is nicer than that of some hotels I’ve stayed at. A shower, both a toilet and a bidet, and towel warmers .

This is next-level luxury and I’m not too proud to admit I like it.

I also like him.

He’s everything that normally drives me crazy, but somehow, it works with Atlas.

He’s tall, about six-two, and wears a suit like it’s part of his skin.

His eyes are a warm brown, with long lashes that give him a soulful look.

Unless he’s in business mode. Then they get so dark they’re almost black, making him powerful and edgy–something that makes my girlie parts weep with need.

It’s been a while since I had a strong, dominant man bring me to my knees, and something tells me Atlas is as much of a beast in the bedroom as he is in the boardroom.

Since our paths have crossed a few times, I’ve done my research and he’s ridiculously rich, a terrifying negotiator when it comes to business, and spectacularly single.

In fact, I can’t find a single photo or smidgeon of gossip putting Atlas with a woman.

Not even for a date. It’s a little disconcerting that someone so wealthy and handsome doesn’t date.

I’m assuming he does–but on the sly.

Quiet dates in exclusive locales.

Or maybe expensive call girls?

Now that’s a naughty option.

I giggle at the way my imagination is running wild.

It’s been a while since I’ve had sex, but it’s been even longer since I’ve had a crush on a guy.

And I have a huge crush on Atlas.

I wipe my hands and make my way out of the bathroom, stumbling as the jet hits a pocket of air. Atlas’s hand appears as if by magic, steadying me.

“You okay?” he asks in that low gravelly voice that makes me want to toss my panties at him.

I want to giggle again but catch myself .

Stop it, Lily.

“Something funny?” he asks, frowning.

“Well, yes.” I motion with my hand. “ All of this is funny.”

His frown deepens. “You think my jet is funny?”

Sweet Jesus, this guy needs to lighten up.

“It’s not ha-ha funny, it’s just so over-the-top… you have a bidet in the bathroom.”

He arches one dark brow. “I’ve grown fond of them. Once you use one, they’re a bit addicting.”

I laugh. “Fair enough. Can’t say I’m partial to them, but I could probably be converted under the right circumstances.”

“What circumstances are those?” he asks, his voice dropping an octave.

So he does have a dirty streak.

And I like it.

I smile. “A girl can’t tell all her secrets on the first date, can she?”

“I…” Now he looks confused. “Are we… is this…”

“Oh, relax, would you?” I sink into the nearest chair and study the myriad buttons on the side. The flight attendant showed them to us, but I don’t remember which one does what.

“This one makes the seat recline,” he suggests lightly, his voice slightly less baritone now. He moves a couple of the levers and it’s a little like the controls in my Mercedes–sleek and efficient.

“Thanks.” I glance up at him mischievously. “These are nice and firm.” I wiggle my butt on the chair cushion.

His brows rise a fraction of an inch. “You’ll be comfortable if you’d like to take a nap.”

Now he’s being cautious, which is less fun.

“I might nap.” I sink into the plush leather with a grin. “Or maybe I’ll think of another way to occupy myself for three long hours. ”

I can see the indecision in his eyes–the heat, tempered by good manners and caution.

That’s a nice change too.

He knows what I’m insinuating, but he isn’t jumping all over me or making lewd suggestions like most men in my orbit do. In fact, he sits across from me, keeping his dark, steady gaze firmly above my chest.

He’s nice.

I don’t know where that thought comes from, but I didn’t get to my level of stardom without relying on my instincts, and all of mine scream that I’m not only safe with him but I’m also safe from my own habit of making…

questionable decisions. There was never any concern for my safety, of course.

I wouldn’t be here–or at the Sapphire Room–if I wasn’t positive about that.

Jade Cantrell and I go way back, to a time before either of us had much success, and we climbed that ladder together.

I surpassed her at one point, when one of my random songs became a crossover hit and I moved from the realm of country star into pop stardom.

She’s catching up to me now, and I’m her biggest fan, but we’re also genuine friends.

Jade wouldn’t bring me into the fold of her new relationship and their extended family if I wasn’t a thousand percent safe along with Atlas.

Now whether or not I go the route of seducing him–that’s something else entirely.

I know it’ll be good.

I can already see the primal beast that lurks beneath the professional facade.

But is it worth the effort and the risk of making things awkward between us?

That’s something I have to think about. I don’t want to stop hanging out with Jade and her amazing new boyfriend, Royal Ewing.

And Atlas is part of Royal’s extended family.

If I make a move…will it be awkward going forward?

Because I’m certainly in no position to get into a relationship, no matter how lonely my life can be sometimes.

“Champagne, Mr. Delarosa?” The flight attendant appears out of nowhere.

“Thank you.” He accepts a glass, and she turns to me.

I hesitate.

Oh, what the hell. In for a penny, in for a pound.

We’ll only be on the flight for about three hours.

How much trouble can I possibly get into?

“Thank you.” I take the glass without giving that last question too much thought.

The flight attendant disappears again—does she have her own room or something?—and Atlas settles what I can only call a curious gaze on me.

“What?” I ask. “You look like you want to interrogate me.”

“Do I?” He seems surprised by that.

“You always have that look.”

“What look?”

“The one where you’re probing, thinking…looking for answers to questions that haven’t even been asked.”

“I suppose I do. It’s how I run my business.”

“Your empire.” I smile. “You’re not the only one who does their research on people they spend time with.” I catch the flicker of surprise in his eyes.

Then he frowns.

“I’m not Atlas Delarosa successful, but I do quite well for myself, so you don’t have to worry that I’m after Jade’s money or that I’m a danger to Frankie. The only one in any danger might be you–because I think you’re sexy.”

Holy shit–is his face red?

How does one of the world’s most feared negotiators blush when a woman tells him he’s hot? Is that even a thing in today’s world? I might have just fallen a teensy-weensy bit in love with him.

“Th-thank you.” He seems flustered that I just gave him a compliment, and the mischievous side of me is getting a kick out of this.

Not to mention the champagne I’ve added to the mix.

I down the rest of the glass and look around. “Is it impolite to ask for more?”

He touches a button and Maya appears out of thin air–I seriously have to figure out where she hides–two fresh glasses of champagne in her hands.

“Do you blush often?” I tease.

The inscrutable mask he often wears slips back into place. “I don’t blush.”

“You just did.”

He lifts his chin. “I tend to be cautious in front of a lady.”

He just called me a lady–and my mostly dormant teenage heart nearly swoons.

Is this guy for real?

We’re about to find out.

I sit up and adjust my chair.

I need to look at him. Keep him talking. Maybe make him blush again.

Mostly, I need him to keep looking at me, with those incredible dark eyes.

“Where are you from, Atlas?”

“The Boston area. What about you?”

“A little town just outside of Dallas, Texas.”

“But you live in Tennessee now?’

“That’s the heart of country music.” I pause. “Although country doesn’t seem to represent my music anymore. I’m a bit of an anomaly these days. ”

“You’ve diversified. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I guess there isn’t.”

“You don’t have an accent, so I wouldn’t have guessed Texas.”

“Oh, it’s still there,” I drawl with a grin. “But I’ve worked to minimize it. No matter what people say, the truth is, they think you’re dumb if you have that southern accent. And me being a natural blond doesn’t help.”

“I don’t think it makes you sound dumb.”

“I appreciate that, but sadly, you’re the minority, so I do my best to not have any kind of accent. Unless I’ve had too much to drink–then the Texas comes out loud and clear.”

He chuckles, and the sound warms me. I don’t think he does it very often, and I really like it. I’d like to hear it more.

“Is that why you dyed it black?” he asks.

“Well that, and I decided I was going through a rebellious teenage streak with my label.” He laughs again and my pulse skitters through my veins. “Who knew my fans—and more importantly, that I would like it too.”

“You’re beautiful no matter what color hair you have.”

Butterflies in my stomach. Phantom fingers between my thighs.

Thoroughly intrigued, I lean forward, watching his face carefully. “Tell me something you like in a woman, Atlas.”

“Loyalty,” he replies without hesitation. “Tell me something you like in a man.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say something crass, but I realize that’s not who Atlas is. Not at this stage of our friendship anyway.

“If we’re not talking about physical attributes, then honesty,” I tell him. “I despise being lied to.”

“Ditto. ”

Our eyes meet, and I give him a lopsided smile. “Then we have at least one thing in common.”

“What else might we have in common?”

His eyes are fathomless pools of arousal…dark and heated and filled with the unspoken promise of pleasure.

I feel it in every fiber of my body.

Lord have mercy.

This is either going to be really, really embarrassing.

Or the best thing in the world.

I rise from my seat and lean over his, holding myself up by resting my hands on either side of him and hoping the champagne swimming through my system doesn’t tip me over before I can do what I’m planning.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t react–merely continues watching me with those expressive eyes of his.

Then I lean down and ever-so-gently press my lips to his.

His eyes close, just for a moment, and when he opens them again, my heart skips a beat at what I see there–pure lust mingled with a touch of surprise and a whole lot of desire.

“You have no idea what you just bought yourself, Texas.”

“Try me.”