Rule Breaker (New Orleans Bourdons Book 1) Read online

  RULE BREAKER

  New Orleans Bourdons #1

  Lisa B. Kamps

  RULE BREAKER

  Copyright © 2020 by Elizabeth Belbot Kamps

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the express written permission of the author.

  The New Orleans Bourdons™ is a fictional semi-professional ice hockey team, its name and logo created for the sole use of the author and covered under protection of trademark.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation to anyone bearing the same name or names, living or dead. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any individual, place, business, or event is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs

  https://www.wickedsmartdesigns.com/

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Other titles by this author

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Epilogue

  TROUBLEMAKER preorder

  About the Author

  Other titles by this author

  For Aria and Fiona, my tribe...

  Thanks for keeping me sane!

  Other titles by this author:

  COVER SIX SECURITY

  Covered By A Kiss, A CSS Novella, Book 0

  The Protector: MAC, Book 1

  The Guardian: DARYL, Book 2

  The Defender: RYDER, Book 3

  The Warrior: DERRICK, Book 4

  The Rescuer: WOLF, Book 5

  The Savior: COLTER, Book 6

  The Hero: ROMAN, Book 7

  THE NEW ORLEANS BOURDONS

  Rule Breaker, Book 1

  Troublemaker, Book 2

  Heartbreaker, Book 3

  Risk Taker, Book 4

  THE YORK BOMBERS

  Playing The Game, Book 1

  Playing To Win, Book 2

  Playing For Keeps, Book 3

  Playing It Up, Book 4

  Playing It Safe, Book 5

  The York Bombers Boxed Set 1

  Books 1-3

  Playing For Love, Book 6

  Playing His Part, Book 7

  Playing It Cool, Book 8

  THE BALTIMORE BANNERS

  Crossing the Line, Book 1

  Game Over, Book 2

  Blue Ribbon Summer, Book 3

  Body Check, Book 4

  First Shot At Love, A Baltimore Banners Short Story

  Break Away, Book 5

  Playmaker, A Baltimore Banners Intermission Novella

  Delay of Game, Book 6

  Shoot Out, Book 7

  The Baltimore Banners: 1st Period Trilogy

  Books 1-3 Boxed set

  The Baltimore Banners: 2nd Period Trilogy

  Books 4-6 Boxed set

  On Thin Ice, Book 8

  Coach's Challenge, A Baltimore Banners Intermission Novella

  One-Timer, Book 9

  Face Off, Book 10

  Game Misconduct, Book 11

  Christmas Interference, A Baltimore Banners Intermission Novella

  Fighting To Score, Book 12

  Matching Penalties, Book 13

  THE CHESAPEAKE BLADES

  Winning Hard, Book 1

  Loving Hard, Book 2

  Playing Hard, Book 3

  FIREHOUSE FOURTEEN

  Once Burned, Book 1

  Playing With Fire, Book 2

  Breaking Protocol, Book 3

  Into the Flames, Book 4

  Second Alarm, Book 5

  Feel The Burn, Book 6

  Coming Soon

  STAND-ALONE TITLES

  Emeralds and Gold: A Treasury of Irish Short Stories (anthology)

  Finding Dr. Right

  Time To Heal

  Dangerous Passion

  Dangerous Heat

  Illicit Affair

  Coming Soon

  Want to receive updates on my releases, preorders, and sales? Then follow me on BookBub.

  And be sure to sign up for my monthly newsletter, Kamps' Korner, for exciting news and sneak peeks! You don’t want to miss it!

  Can't wait for the newsletter? Want exclusive content before anyone else? How about fun, games, and giveaways? Then please join me and a great group of readers and fans at Kamps Korner on Facebook.

  Chapter One

  Nathan

  The numbers on the clock glowed an angry red in the dim light of the room, an annoying reminder that I was going to be late if I didn't get my ass in gear. Too damn bad. My ass would just have to be late because no way in hell was I moving right now, not when I was thirty seconds from finding heaven.

  Again.

  I curled one fist in the rumpled sheets of my bed then reached down with my other hand and cupped the curve of the woman's head as she kissed and licked her way down my stomach. Silky hair curled around my fingers and trailed across my skin and damn if the breath didn't catch in my chest. Close. She was so damn close. My body was already tensing in anticipation of that hot mouth wrapping around the hard length of my cock. Of feeling that wet tongue swirl around the tip before swiping along the length like she was in a hurry to lick her favorite ice cream cone before it melted in the ungodly heat and humidity of New Orleans.

  I'd been here for two months already and didn't think I'd ever get used to the suffocating weather. I'd known the woman in my bed for three weeks and I was already addicted to her.

  Her taste.

  Her smell.

  Her touch.

  Everything about her.

  The one-night stand with Addy hadn't stopped and I sure as hell wasn't complaining. She was the only ray of light in my otherwise fucked-up existence and I had no plans of calling it quits. Not anytime soon, anyway. Why the hell would I when both of us were looking for the same thing?

  Fun.

  Sex.

  No commitments.

  More sex.

  Yeah, we definitely had that. When it came to sex, we were a perfect match. As far as everything else...

  Not my concern. I knew as much about Addy as she knew about me—which was very little. There was no need to complicate things with the details, not when we were both focused on the same thing.

  Fun.

  Sex.

  No commitments.

  More sex.

  Yeah, it worked for me.

  I knew her first name. I knew she worked in some boutique clothing store somewhere here in the Quarter that sold some kind of funky-ass vampire or steampunk clothing or something else just as weird. I knew she liked spicy food and sweet drinks that snuck up on you.

  And I knew she liked sex. Lots of hot, sweaty adventurous sex.

  It was a match made in heaven—a
heaven that I was five seconds away from attaining if her sweet little tongue ever found its mark. I tightened my hand in her hair and slowly rolled my hips in silent encouragement. No, I wasn't above begging, not when I'd already had a taste of the prize waiting for me. Addy turned her head, her dark eyes drifting toward mine. Our gazes met and damn if the slow smile spreading across her face didn't make my gut clench with anticipation. Then that dark gaze shot away from mine to land on the clock and any anticipation I may have felt evaporated when she jumped up.

  "Oh hell, Nathan, you're going to be late." She rolled off the bed and scrambled for her clothes, her full breasts jiggling with each movement. I swallowed back the drool threatening to drip from the corner of my mouth—yeah, her breasts were that delectable—and reached for her.

  "I can afford to be late."

  "You told me you couldn't be." She slipped away before I could grab her and stepped into a tiny strip of lace that was supposed to be underwear. "You specifically told me to make sure you weren't late."

  Had I? Maybe. But that had been more than two hours ago. My priorities had changed since then.

  I propped up on one elbow and reached down, curled my hand around my cock and stroked. Long, hard. Slow. Addy's gaze dropped to watch, her eyes flaring with interest. Her sweet little tongue darted out and swiped across her lower lip and I swallowed back a groan, wishing that tongue was swiping across something else.

  "Five minutes." My voice was low and rough, filled with unspoken promise. Dark eyes darted to mine and a teasing smile curled one corner of her mouth.

  "Since when is five minutes ever enough for you?"

  "There's a first time for everything."

  Her gaze lowered to my hand, her eyes darkening with desire as she watched me stroke my cock. Her nipples grew to dark little points and she lightly swayed toward me. I didn't waste any time, just reached out and pulled her down on top of me, smothering her little squeal of surprise with my mouth. Her body melted against mine, all soft curves and hot flesh. Less than a minute later, I had a condom on and her underwear off and I was driving inside her. She moaned, the sound soft and low and so fucking hot, then pushed to her knees and took me in even deeper. Rocking against me. Riding me.

  Driving me fucking insane.

  I closed my hands around her full hips and bent my legs, digging my heels into the mattress as I drove into her. Hard. Fast. Deep. She was so fucking tight. So fucking hot and wet.

  So fucking open. Watching the nuance of every expression flit across her face was a turn-on I'd never expected—and one I didn't think I'd ever grow tired of. Desire. Need. Demand. Satisfaction. Addy didn't hold back, never shied away from telling me what she wanted, never shied away from seeking her own pleasure.

  Watching her now, with her head tilted back and her perfect teeth nibbling her full lower lip, was damn near enough to push me over the edge. I'd only been teasing when I told her five minutes—quickies weren't really my thing—but damn if I might not give in to the urge this one time.

  Maybe.

  But only if she joined me.

  I lowered my hand and slid a finger along the tight bud of her clit, teasing her. Short little strokes at first, each rewarded with a sharp gasp. Then a little harder, adjusting the pressure each time she rocked her hips against me. I curled my other hand around her breast, flicked the hard point of one dark nipple with my thumbnail then kneaded the firm flesh. The reward was instantaneous—Addy threw her head back, the long cascade of thick hair teasing my bare flesh as she came apart, her sweet pussy convulsing around my cock. I sat up, pulled her head down to claim her mouth and pushed myself deeper inside her, driving into her until my own explosion left me weak and breathless.

  We fell back to the bed, a tangle of arms and legs, the sound of harsh breathing echoing around us in the nearly empty room. I closed my eyes, only for a second, only to be rudely nudged awake.

  "Nathan, you're late."

  "Fuck it."

  The bed dipped as Addy climbed over me, her bare feet hitting the wood floor with a dainty sound. "You told me to make sure you weren't going to be late. Come on, up you go."

  I groaned then rolled to the side, peeled open one eye and glared at the clock. Blinked until the glare morphed into shock then vaulted from the bed with a loud oath. Five minutes had somehow turned into thirty and I had no fucking idea how.

  I caught Addy by the shoulders, pressed a quick kiss against her mouth, then raced to the bathroom. The water didn't even have a chance to heat up before I was done with the shower and drying off with no more than a few swipes of a towel. Addy was still standing near my bed, dressed only in black leggings that hugged each luscious curve and black leather lace-up boots with a thick platform heel that brought the top of her head to my chin. Her hair fell in a long wave over her bare shoulder as she tilted her head to the side and watched me get dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt. Thank God we didn't have to do the whole suit thing yet. Addy would probably have a dozen questions I wasn't ready to answer yet if she saw me dressed in a suit.

  She pulled her bra on with a sexy little twist that had me staring again, then shrugged into a deep red blouse and quickly buttoned it. "Are you going to be in much trouble?"

  "Nah. Don't worry about it." Yeah, I probably was, but I wasn't going to tell her that. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time I'd been in trouble for breaking the rules—that was what had landed me down here in the first place. And knowing myself as well as I did, it sure as hell wouldn't be the last time.

  I shoved my wallet into my back pocket and grabbed the keys off my dresser before hurrying to the front door. Addy was right behind me, putting her last earring in place before running her fingers through her thick mane. I held the door open for her, caught her mouth in another quick kiss then pulled the door closed with a loud click.

  We took the elevator down to the lobby then stepped outside into the oppressive September heat. One last kiss then Addy turned left, heading along Iberville Street in the direction of Bourbon Street and whatever it was she did when I wasn't around. Work, maybe. Or maybe she was meeting friends to get an early start on the nightly festivities that never seemed to end. Wasn't my business, not really.

  I watched her walk away, thought about calling her back to remind her of our plans for later then caught myself before doing something so terminally stupid. If we hooked up, we hooked up. No need to remind her. Addy was a one-night stand. An extended one, maybe, but still a one-night stand.

  Sex.

  Fun.

  No commitments.

  More sex.

  It worked for us. Trying for anything beyond that would be a death sentence.

  I turned right, toward the ramshackle garage I paid extra for each month to get my car. If luck was with me, traffic wouldn't be an issue and I could make it to the joke the owner of the New Orleans Bourdons called a practice arena without too much headache. I wasn't expecting luck to be with me, though. It hadn't been for the last eighteen months.

  Why should now be any different?

  Chapter Two

  Nathan

  The last thing I needed to do right now was call attention to myself, not after already having my ass handed to me for showing up late. In addition to getting me chewed out by the coaching staff, my little stunt had earned me a few extra laps around the ice after practice. Not that practice was over, not officially. We still had videos to watch then a meeting for the special teams. All that had been put on hold though because the owner of the Bourdons wanted to hold an impromptu meet-and-greet with the players. That would have been lame under any circumstance; given the fact that we'd already met the owner, it moved beyond lame and was rapidly heading into the territory of just plain pathetic.

  What made it even worse—and what was causing me to damn near choke to death on the laughter I was struggling to hold in—was the fact the owner was showing off our new uniforms. Not just showing them off, but doing it proudly. Like what he was holding up wasn't
a fucking embarrassment to every single man crowded into the overheated confines of the musty locker room.

  Like it wasn't bad enough that the name of the team translated into some kind of bumblebee. Like it wasn't insult enough that the logo was some stupid ass bee designed to look ferocious but who ended up looking more like he was constipated instead. At least, that's what I saw when I looked at the damn thing.

  And there was no way I couldn't look, not when the logo was emblazoned in shimmery lame on the front of the bright purple sweater the owner held up in front of him. The only thing more hideous than the sweater was the kelly green shorts that we were expected to wear.

  We were going to be the laughingstock of the league, no doubt about it. Forget the fact that we hadn't gelled yet as a team. Forget the fact that the Bourdons were brand new to the league thanks to last year's expansion. Forget the fact that our play pretty much sucked—something the coach didn't hesitate to let us know every damn second of practice. As far as I was concerned, none of that mattered. We could hold the number-one seed and there wasn't a damn team around that would take us seriously, not when we were being outfitted to look like some caricature of a Mardi Gras nightmare.

  How in the hell did he even get the new uniform approved by the league? It wasn't even close to what we'd been shown a few months ago. I'd heard that Gerard Landry, the owner of the Bourdons, had money and connections but I hadn't realized how much. It had to be a shit ton though, if he was being allowed to get away with the atrocity he was proudly displaying.

  I ran my knuckles over my pursed mouth and tried to disguise my laughter with a choked cough. I may have gotten away with it, too, if I hadn't made the mistake of looking over at Tristan Holland. Our eyes made contact and I saw the same outraged disbelief on his face that was churning inside me. The dam broke on my self-control and my choked laughter spilled out, the sound harsh and entirely too loud. Some of the other players started laughing as well, the noise cresting around us like a giant wave. The wave came to an abrupt crash courtesy of a single word bellowed from our head coach.