Breaking Shaun

  Copyright © 2014 by E.M. Abel

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Designer: Angela Fields, i love it design studio

  Editor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Visit my website at emabelbooks.com

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Saving Jay Teaser

  Special Thanks

  To my sisters,

  No matter what life has thrown your way

  You’ve always persevered

  And never lost hope.

  Your strength inspires me every day.

  I love you.

  Please, God, no. This can’t be happening. What did I do to deserve this? He’s cute. Look at him. He’s got nice hair and pretty eyes, and he even has a sexy body. So, please tell me, why? Why is he pounding into me like a fucking jackrabbit on speed? Why?

  I slowly peeled my eyes open to look back up at the man hovering above me. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his face was sweaty. His arms were flexed and pulled so tight that it almost looked painful. And he was slamming himself into me as if the harder and faster he went, the better.

  So. Not. True.

  Didn’t anyone teach him the value of foreplay?

  He had to be at least twenty-six or twenty-seven years old, so there was no excuse. If he didn’t seem like such a nice person, I would just push him off me and leave as fast as my feet could take me, but now, I felt obligated to at least let him finish. By the looks of things, it wouldn’t take long.

  This was all his fault. I didn’t know his name, but his crystal green eyes, perfectly bowed lips, and rumbling low voice were branded into my brain. He was burned there.

  “You’re not wearing panties,” a raspy, deep voice whispered into my ear.

  I was sitting at the small makeshift bar in the gallery, sipping my glass of wine. My back straightened, and my breath hitched as my cheeks grew warm. I narrowed my eyes and turned to face the man next to me.

  I first noticed his piercing green eyes. I’d never seen anything like them. They were the lightest green and surrounded by the darkest black eyelashes. As those eyes stared directly into mine, I felt so exposed that I moved my elbow off the bar to drape my arm across my lap. It wasn’t much, but it made me feel less vulnerable, less open.

  Those eyes were slightly narrowed because of the smug grin playing on his rosy pink lips. His bottom lip was glistening like he had just licked it. I could barely make out one small dimple on his left cheek. My heart was racing. I didn’t know how this man’s presence had engulfed me, but I was surrounded. He obviously didn’t have a shy bone in his body, and it was clear he would say whatever he felt like saying, whenever he felt like saying it.

  “Excuse me?” I asked, being sure to sound agitated.

  He leaned toward me, and this time, I could smell him. He smelled like the ocean.

  “I said, you’re not wearing any panties,” he whispered again.

  My hair moved with his breath, and the strands tickled my ear.

  Tilting away from him, I twisted my neck, so I could look at him while putting distance between us. “And you felt the need to tell me this…why? You do realize that I’m aware of what I have on, right?”

  His lips curled into a full smile, and my hand tightened around my wine glass.

  Holy crap!

  He was gorgeous before, but when he smiled…oh my God. I caught myself staring at his mouth, and then he tilted his chin down and looked at his feet as he chuckled. His laughter sounded incredibly sexy. When he peered up at me through those thick lashes, my heart thumped even faster.

  “Yes, I just wanted you to know that I’m aware of what you have on and what you don’t have on.”

  No matter how much I wanted him, there was no way I would sleep with this man. No way.

  From the instant I’d heard his voice, I’d known he was in control. He knew what he was doing, and I would not get caught up in that.

  “Well, it’s been noted, but I’m not interested.” I turned away on the stool, so my back was to him, and I took a sip of my merlot.

  That was when I felt the front of his shirt against my back. His heat was seeping through the fabric, and it sank right into my core. My back straightened as my nipples instantly hardened, and I sucked in a deep breath.

  “Too bad. I was really looking forward to lifting that red dress up around your hips and testing how wet I could get you before you begged me to fuck you,” he murmured beside my ear.

  Then, he walked right past me, the shoulder of his suit jacket grazing my back as he went. I watched while he approached the artist, but then I swiftly turned back around, resting my elbows on the bar again, as I tried to control my breathing.

  That man’s aura was spellbinding, intoxicating, and completely dangerous.

  So, here I was, getting humped by a man who fucked like a teenage boy. I was stupid enough to think I could extinguish the fire Mr. Green Eyes had set inside me with a quick one-night stand with someone else—someone a lot less scary and a lot easier to control.

  Boy, was I wrong.

  Let’s fall in love

  Before the world breaks through.

  Before time catches up

  And I break you.

  Three Months Later…

  This bitch is crazy.

  “So, why didn’t you call me?” she shrieked into the phone.

  I held it away from my ear. I could have sworn I’d felt it vibrate in my hand.

  This was exactly why I didn’t give out my number—so I wouldn’t have to deal with phone calls like this one. Except this bitch knew where I worked, and she had actually tracked me down at Marcus’s shop just to give me shit for not calling her. Honestly, I couldn’t even remember what she looked like. She’d said her name was Jamie, but that didn’t mean shit to me. All I knew was that she was yelling in my ear and pissing me the fuck off.

  “Why the fuck would I call you?” I leaned back in my chair, staring at the white ceiling in my office.

  “What do you mean, why the fuck would you call me? Because you fucked me! That’s why!”

  I held the phone even farther from my ear that time, and I contemplated hanging up on her. This always happened. No matter how careful I was about avoiding these situations, there was always some crazy bitch who thought I owed her something just because she’d willingly spread her legs for me.

  “I’m p
retty sure it takes two people to fuck. So, why don’t you stop acting like you did me a favor, and I owe you somethin’? We fucked. We got off. Now, move on.”

  There was silence on the other end—well, except for the heavy breathing.

  She finally responded, “You. Are. An. Asshole!”

  The phone definitely vibrated that time. Then she hung up.

  I sighed before hitting the End button and putting the phone back on my desk. Crazy fuckin’ bitches.

  Yes, there were a lot of people in the world who thought I was an asshole, and that was okay with me. But the truth was, I wouldn’t just tell people what they wanted to hear. Yeah, I knew how to sweet-talk my way into a woman’s panties, but I never filled her with false hope. I never promised anyone I’d be her boyfriend and take her out on dates. When I made promises, I always kept them, and the most I’d ever promised a woman was multiple orgasms. That was it, nothing more. And if a woman expected it, then that would be her problem, her mistake, not mine. But somehow, I still always ended up being the asshole, and the women were the victims.

  Bullshit.

  It pissed me off how a woman would act like she didn’t like getting fucked just as much as I liked fucking her. Even though, just hours before, she had been under me, screaming at me to go harder and faster, loving every second of it. Women were the assholes, not me.

  “This shit is getting old,” I told Marcus as we sat at his huge dining room table.

  Asia was in their kitchen, trying to put dinner together. I still hadn’t decided if I was going to eat it. My little sister wasn’t exactly known for her culinary skills. It had only been three months since she and Marcus got engaged at her art exhibit in L.A., and they already acted like an old married couple.

  “What’s getting old?” Marcus asked before taking a sip of his beer, his eyes on the kitchen behind me.

  He obviously hadn’t been listening to anything I said. This was one of the many disadvantages of my best friend falling in love—not to mention, with my sister.

  “Are you going to actually listen to me? Or are you just gonna sit there and stare at my sister’s ass the whole night?”

  Marcus chuckled as his gaze left Asia and studied his beer. Then, he leaned back in his chair and looked at me. “Sorry, man. So, tell me, what’s getting old?”

  “Fucking,” I stated before taking a swig from my own beer.

  He gave me a questioning look. “Huh?”

  “It’s just not fun anymore, you know? It’s too much fuckin’ work. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love pussy. It’s all the bullshit that comes with it that I don’t love.”

  Marcus grinned. That motherfucker was thinking something that he knew I wouldn’t like.

  I ran my hand through my messy long hair and huffed. “What?”

  Contemplating his next words, he rubbed his hand over his stubble before answering. “Maybe you just need to fuck someone you actually like.”

  Marcus focused in on something behind me—or more like, someone. Asia walked up to him, and he pushed his chair back, allowing her room to sit on his lap.

  Fuckin’ lovebirds.

  After she sat, Asia turned to look at me. “So, what are you guys talking about?” she asked as she gave me her usual skeptical glare.

  I swore she thought I was the devil on everyone’s shoulder.

  “Shaun is getting tired of his groupies,” Marcus told her.

  She shifted in his lap to look at him before twisting to face me again. “It’s about damn time! I mean, it was only a matter of time before you were ready to settle down, Shaun. It’s only natural—”

  “Hold up, hold up, hold up,” I interrupted as I held up my hand toward my sister. “I never said anything about settling down. That shit just isn’t for me.”

  Asia sighed, and I could see the excitement draining out of her.

  “So, what are you saying then?”

  I shook my head before running a hand through my hair again. I did not want to have this conversation with my little sister. “Nothing,” I muttered before I took a long sip from my beer.

  “Come on, man. You can talk to us about it. Maybe Asia can give us a female’s perspective. It might help you out.”

  I scowled at my friend and widened my legs before resting my bottle of beer on my thigh. I could see the amusement in his eyes, and it made me want to punch the shit out of him.

  “He’s getting tired, babe—tired of dealing with the bullshit that comes with being a man-whore,” Marcus informed Asia with a grin.

  “Oh…well, that’s easy,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “You just have to find a woman like you—someone with commitment issues and a never-ending sex drive.”

  Marcus chuckled, and Asia smiled at him over her shoulder. She was obviously giving me shit, but she was right.

  Why can’t I find a woman like me—someone who loves sex but doesn’t need a relationship to justify it? Do women like that even exist?

  Nick’s snoring was going to drive me insane. When I’d agreed to move in with him, I’d had no idea that he snored like a bear in hibernation.

  Groaning, I rolled onto my stomach and reached for the alarm clock beside my bed. Six thirty. I moaned and moved onto my back, tossing the blankets off of me. Sitting up, I huffed, blowing away the strands of hair that had fallen over my eyes. So much for sleeping in.

  I dragged myself to the bathroom down the hall, and I stopped to admire the décor inside. The walls were painted a soft teal, and all the accents were a rich dark brown. One good thing about moving in with my cousin was that the man had style. I pulled my auburn hair back into a loose ponytail and went about brushing my teeth before washing my face.

  This would be my first full day living in Virginia. I’d finally arrived late last night after a three-day road trip from California. I loved moving somewhere new. Everything felt different and exciting. I’d moved every few years since I was little.

  My mother didn’t believe in settling down anywhere, and as a result my little sister, Lili, and I had been dragged along with her. At the time, I’d hated it—always changing schools and packing, unpacking, and packing again. The funny thing was, I now got restless when I would stay in one place for too long. Three years was usually my limit. After that, I would need change. So, I was in Virginia now, staying with Nick in his stylish downtown apartment on the fifteenth floor of a brand-new building.

  The truth was, I hadn’t just moved to Virginia for the new surroundings. I was twenty-four, and I felt like my life was slipping away from me. I’d spent so much of it closed off from everyone around me. I’d never had best friends, boyfriends, or friends at all really—unless I counted Lili and Nick, but they were family.

  Nick and I had grown close when his mom had taken Lili and me in for a year when I was sixteen. I thought the fact that Nick and I had both been outcasts helped us bond. I had been the school slut, and he had been the flamboyant gay guy. That year, living with my aunt, had probably been the best time of my adolescent life. I’d had a warm meal every night and clean clothes to wear to school, and I hadn’t worried about who or what I might find in the house when I woke up in the mornings. Even after my mom had come to get Lili and me, Nick and I had made sure to keep in touch.

  Now, here I was, living in Nick’s new apartment with him—at least until I got my own place.

  I was a bartender, so I wasn’t too worried about finding a job. Every city had bars, and those bars needed bartenders to serve drinks. There was always a demand that I could supply. My real dream was to become a photographer, but I’d had to let that dream go once I realized college wasn’t going to be an option for me.

  Since it was Sunday, I decided I’d take the day off and start the job hunt tomorrow. I had some money saved up, but I wanted to get something soon. Nick and I were close, but I didn’t want to overstay my welcome. I preferred to take care of myself, and relying on someone else to put a roof over my head didn’t sit well with me.

  Peering d
own at my black yoga pants and white tank top, I decided to put on a bra and head out in search of some breakfast. I could also use a large cup of coffee. I was still on California time, which meant my body thought it was three thirty in the morning.

  I stood in front of the display case with a coffee in my hand, trying to decide what kind of doughnut I wanted, when I heard the glass door to the convenience store open, and time slowed to a crawl. My heart rate immediately spiked when I saw him—Mr. Green Eyes. I didn’t even have to see his eyes to know it was him. I could feel his energy, his aura.

  Oh fuck.

  I quickly ducked my head behind the doughnut case and rubbed my lips together before deciding to take another peek. He was oblivious to everything around him as he moved his black Ray-Bans up onto the top of his head, pushing his long hair back. It had grown a few inches since I last saw him. I watched as he walked toward the drink coolers. He was wearing a pair of old camouflage cargo shorts, a white T-shirt with some surf shop’s logo on it, and flip-flops. On any other guy, that outfit would have looked sloppy, but on him, it looked stylish, sexy even. With a body like his, I had a feeling anything he wore would look good.

  My nerves tingled as I remembered that night at the art gallery—the way he’d looked in a suit, the way his eyes had affected me when they met mine, how deep his voice had sounded when he spoke.

  I had actually started to think that maybe I dreamed him—or at least my memory of him had been embellished, and he really wasn’t as gorgeous or as breathtakingly beautiful as I remembered. But I had been wrong. He was even better in real life.

  Stop, Nat! Stop! Look at the doughnuts. Pick a fucking doughnut, and don’t look over there anymore, damn it!

  I set my coffee down and quickly grabbed a piece of paper. I started picking random doughnuts and tossing them into my plastic bag.

  “You plan on leaving any for the rest of us?”

  That raspy, deep voice vibrated through my entire body, and I nearly dropped my full bag of doughnuts onto the floor.

  Stay calm. Keep control.