Bad Boys After Dark: Mick

by Melissa Foster

  He didn’t stand a chance against that smile, those eyes, her voice.

  “Baby, that’s all it takes.” He leaned forward and kissed her square on the lips. She fisted her hand in his shirt, snagging skin along with it, and he tugged her in tighter, deepening the kiss. And the next breath brought the moment he loved, when her resistance slipped away and her other hand came around his neck. She gave herself over to the kiss, returning his efforts fervently. The sharp corners of her book poked into his chest, suspended by the press of their bodies. Her tongue swept hungrily over his, her body melted against him, and sexy sounds of pleasure slipped from her mouth. His emotions swelled and stretched, winding around them, binding them together like cable, strong and lasting.

  “Well, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes?”

  Amanda jumped from his arms, her cheeks red as the autumn trees. Her book plunked to the cobblestone. She nervously grabbed at her shirt, futilely trying to pull it closed across her breasts while simultaneously tugging at the hem of her skirt. It took a moment for enough blood to make its way to Mick’s brain for him to function. Amanda reached for her book, and he touched her arm.

  “I’ve got it,” he reassured her, then turned to greet his friend Willow as he retrieved it. Logan had introduced Mick to Willow and her family when he’d first come house hunting in Sweetwater, and they’d become as close as family.

  “Nice to see you, Willow.” He handed the book to Amanda, and she clutched it to her chest. “Amanda Jenner, meet my friend Willow Dalton. Willow, this is Amanda.”

  “A-man-da Hug-and-kiss?” Willow teased. “Well, you sure found a hell of a man to kiss.” She pushed her long blond hair over her shoulders and pulled Amanda into an unexpected hug.

  Willow was as loud and boisterous, with little interest in filtering her thoughts, as Amanda was careful and meticulous, acutely aware of every word that came out of her mouth. Although Amanda had slipped a few times over the last twenty-four hours, and Mick had found those charming, unguarded moments alarmingly appealing.

  “Hi.” Amanda’s feet shifted nervously. “It’s not like that. We’re not…I’m not…”

  “Oh, honey, please.” Willow waved a dismissive hand. “Do not act like you don’t want to kiss this Bad boy. Half the town wants to kiss him.” She threw her arms around Mick’s neck and whispered, “Piper’s got your boat all ready, but I can’t believe I had to hear you have a girlfriend from my sister!” Piper was one of Willow’s sisters. She took care of Mick’s house and boat when he was out of town. He’d called her when they’d stopped at the gas station and had asked her to set the timer for the evening lights and stock the boat with a few necessities.

  Mick laughed to cover the frustration his next words would bring. “We’re not a couple. We’re…” What? Fuck buddies? Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, he said, “Working on a research project together.”

  “I can see that.” Willow nodded to the book Amanda was holding. The title, The Handbook: Release Your Inner Temptress, was facing out for all to see.

  “Ohmygod.” Amanda threw the book in the car and closed the door. “This is so embarrassing.”

  Mick slid an arm around her waist. “We were only kissing.”

  She turned in to him, touched her forehead to his chest, and said, “Can she still see me?”

  They all laughed, but Mick’s heart went warm and squishy again. He didn’t usually go for cute, but he was drawn to all things Amanda and couldn’t resist tipping her chin up and kissing her again. Her smile told him she could deal with the embarrassment just fine, and her grip on him revealed how much she liked that extra little kiss.

  She turned and faced Willow, rolled her shoulders back, and held out a hand in greeting. Willow took it, with a smile so warm Mick wanted to thank her.

  “Hi. I’m Amanda Jenner,” she said in her work voice. “I’m a paralegal, and I do work with Mick. He’s helping me with a research project. I’m the project, and turning up my sexy is the goal. Now it’s out in the open and I can go crawl under a rock with dignity.”

  “Damn, girl.” Willow slid her fingers into the pockets of her jeans and looked at Mick, then back at Amanda. “All you had to do was buy a book and ask him to help? You need to go on The View, or Good Morning America, because that is skill and brilliance in and of itself.”

  “Come Monday I’m sure I’ll think it was sheer stupidity, but he’s a good research partner.” Amanda glanced at Mick, and he waggled his brows.

  “Well, you have oodles of time between now and Monday. Are you going to join us for the Fall Festival?” Willow pointed to the fairgrounds in the distance.

  “We are, if Amanda would like to,” Mick answered.

  “Great! Maybe I’ll see you there.” Willow hugged them each again and whispered, “I like her!” to Mick, before heading off toward the festival.

  “I’m sorry,” Amanda said as soon as Willow was out of earshot. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your friend.”

  He could push the game further, guide her from her embarrassment and back into their lesson in seduction, but he found everything she did seductive. He was having a hell of a time holding back from acting like the man he wanted to be for Amanda.

  Decision made, he let their game fall away and stepped closer, focusing on the quickening of her breaths, and as his thighs pressed to hers, the heat smoldered between them.

  “New rules,” he said confidently. “At night you’ll be the seductress. Tonight we’ll go to the pub separately, and for all intents and purposes, we’ll be strangers. You’ll work your magic, I’ll critique, and you’ll do it until you’ve got it down pat. It’ll be your job to get me into the bedroom, but once we’re there, you’re mine.”

  She swallowed hard.

  “Tomorrow we’ll find another way for you to practice, and by the time we part Sunday night, you’ll be a pro, I promise. But during the day, and in the bedroom, you’re Amanda Jenner, woman. Not a temptress in training. Got it?”

  “But…?” She slipped her finger into the waist of his jeans.

  He stifled a groan. “That was seductive, Amanda. One finger, your innocent eyes, your breasts brushing against my chest, and I’m ready to combust. You don’t need help in that area.” He pressed a hand flat against her lower back, holding her against his throbbing cock.

  “Oh!” Her face lit up with surprise. “Really?”

  “With you? Yes.” It was crazy, even to him. No other woman had ever roused the immediate inferno Amanda did without even trying. He pushed a hand beneath her hair to the nape of her neck and brushed his thumb over her freckles. She sighed with pleasure, her long lashes fluttering with each stroke of his thumb.

  “I’m attracted to you, Amanda. We have this weekend. It’s all we’ll ever have. I’m not cut out for relationships, and I never will be. If you want this, if you want me, you need to understand and accept that up front.” He paused, letting his words settle in for both of them. Confusion and heat took up residence in her expression again.

  He had to be sure they had an understanding, for both their sakes. “You can’t hold on to any romantic notions that I’ll change, or that I want to change, because at thirty-four, it’s not going to happen. But I want this weekend, and I want you.”

  She breathed harder, her finger curled tightly around the waist of his jeans.

  “Can you live with that? Let me be the man I want to be for you now, here, for these few days, and go back to being colleagues and friends when we return to the city? If you can’t, if it makes you at all uncomfortable, we’ll stick to our original plan. But I’d really like to give you, to give us, a weekend we’ll never forget.”

  Chapter Eight

  “I THINK I can do that.” It was a fib. There was no way Amanda would be able to go back to work Monday and pretend they hadn’t been together. She couldn’t look at him without her heart doing a silly little happy dance. She had to continually remind herself he wasn’t falling for her; he was te
aching her. But now he didn’t want to teach her? He wanted her? For the weekend? Wasn’t this so much better than what she’d already agreed to? More confusing, certainly, because why the heck didn’t he do relationships? But did that matter?

  He wanted her, and she definitely wanted him. Their weekend promised to be even better. She’d have to come to grips with finding a new job, because turning down the most incredible offer she could ever dream of from the only man she wanted wasn’t even a possibility—and his confession would make working in the same office and pretending nothing happened even more impossible.

  “You’re sure?” he asked. “Because I’m not playing games this time, Amanda. When I say this is all we will ever have, and we’ll leave it behind when we return to the city, I mean it.”

  I’ve got my big-girl panties on. I can handle it.

  Actually, I don’t have any panties on, but I can still handle it.

  I hope.

  She nodded curtly. “Positive, Counselor.”

  “I do like hearing that coming from your pretty little mouth.” His lips brushed over hers. “Almost as much as I liked coming in it last night.”

  A tornado of heat spun inside her. His eyes dropped to her mouth. Kiss me. Then lower, to her shoulders, her breasts. Goose bumps rose on her flesh, her body pulsing with anticipation for whatever he’d give—a kiss, a touch, a word? Everything he did caused heart-pounding reactions.

  “Would you like to change before we go to the festival, or do I get to eye-fuck you all afternoon, thinking about how easy it would be to lift that sexy little skirt and slip inside you?” He paused, and she tried to remember how to speak, which didn’t seem to be happening anytime soon. He pressed his prickly scruff to her cheek, and his hot breath ghosted over her skin. “Or we can go inside and I’ll fuck you now. And later.”

  “That.” She couldn’t believe she’d said it, and apparently he couldn’t either, because her strong, confident, weekend-sex god blinked several times before taking her hand and dragging her across the street.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, stumbling to keep up as he pulled her down a narrow alley between a café and a bookstore.

  “My place. Upstairs.”

  “You live above the bookstore?”

  “I own it.” He stopped at the bottom of an iron stairway and crashed his mouth over hers, kissing her like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it.

  The kiss was fast and urgent, and continued as they made their way up the stairs. He unlocked the heavy wooden door, and the second she stepped inside, he backed her up against it. The weight of their bodies slammed it closed. He grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head. His eyes went coal black, holding her captive with the promises they held. Trapping both of her hands in one of his, he took her in another fierce kiss. Their teeth banged, their tongues tangled, and he adeptly worked his button and zipper with one hand and pushed his pants down his thighs. She moaned, loud and urgent, struggling against his grip with the need to touch him.

  “I’ve got you, baby.” He pulled her skirt up to her waist and thrust his hand between her legs.

  She was drenched, aching for his touch, his cock, his mouth. All of him.

  “Fuck, baby. I wish I’d known you didn’t have panties on.” He stared into her eyes as he pushed his fingers into her, stroking the spot that made her insides burn. “I would have made you come the whole way here.”

  She couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping. He claimed her in a demanding kiss. His talented fingers took her up, up, up. She trembled and gasped, her insides straining, reaching for the orgasm building within her. Then his thumb brushed over her clit in the most hypnotizing pattern, firm and soft, firm and soft. Rivers of heat surged through her. She came hard, crying out as she hit the peak. He drew back with a predatory stare, and without a word he dropped to his knees and pushed her legs apart so wide she had to grab his head to keep from falling over. His mouth covered her sex, sucking and teasing her to near madness.

  “Please, Mick. I can’t take it. Too…” Oh God.

  His tongue entered her again and again. Threads of pleasure coursed down her legs, through her core, as another climax built, filling her veins, her limbs, and pulsing like a whip to the rhythm of his tongue. His mouth was relentless, taking and giving, making every nerve sizzle and burn. Her body flashed cold, then white-hot, and hotter still, until her mind was spinning, spinning, spinning—

  “Mick!”

  She arched off the door. A stream of pleas sailed from her lips, “Don’t stop! More! There!” An explosion of sensations bled together, engulfing her in pleasure so exquisite it felt lethal.

  Mick rose to his feet, and she slid lower on numb, useless legs, her back against the door. He lifted her in his arms and lowered her onto his shaft.

  “Ohmygod.” He filled her so perfectly, so completely, her head tipped back and the world careened away.

  “You feel so good, baby.”

  Every thrust brought sparks of breath-stealing heat. She clawed at his shoulders, trying to match his efforts, but the orgasms had left her muscles weak, and it was all she could do to hold on tight.

  “Harder,” she pleaded.

  Using the door for leverage, he pounded into her. On the verge of another climax, her inner muscles clenched tight, tight, tight. He tugged her mouth to his, kissing her hard and possessively, sending her spiraling into ecstasy. He was right there with her, grunting out her name as his release took hold—kissing, rocking, thrusting, until the last tremor rolled through them. He collapsed against her, still firm and buried deep. They were panting, half dressed, and covered in a sheen of sweat. She’d come so explosively, her body was still trying to catch up.

  Mick drew back just enough to look deeply into her eyes, and she swore she saw eager affection looking back at her. “One weekend,” he said, not unkindly.

  “One weekend,” she whispered.

  He rested his cheek on her chest and she reveled in the luxurious feeling, being close to the man she adored. One weekend. She tried to make that thought stick, but it was like a fly circling, landing long enough for her to know it was there, but every breath, every blink, sent it circling again.

  **

  MICK KICKED OFF his jeans, still holding Amanda, warm and languid in his arms, and carried her through the living room.

  “I can walk,” she said groggily.

  “I like this better.”

  She looked down at her clothes. Her shirt was wrinkled, damp with perspiration—his and hers—and open across her chest. Her skirt was still pushed up around her hips. She was delectable.

  “You’re pantsless and I’m fully dressed,” she said with a humorous smile. “I like this.”

  “You’re pantiless,” he reminded her, “which makes you almost as naked as me, which I happen to like a whole hell of a lot, too.”

  Mick carried her through the master bedroom to the bathroom. Sunshine streamed in through a large picture window above the claw-foot tub, giving them a glorious view of the lake.

  “Is this where we’re staying tonight? It’s really cute.”

  “Not nearly as cute as you, but no. I thought we’d stay on my boat.” He set her down by the tub, keeping one arm around her waist to steady her. A sexually sated Amanda had quickly become one of his favorite things—a close second to the act of sexually satiating her. He’d never had a woman in this bathroom. The rough stone and dark wood walls made her seem even more delicate and feminine. He liked seeing her in his private oasis.

  “You have a boat?” She rested her hand on his forearm. “You’re just full of secrets, aren’t you?”

  “Apparently not around you.” He took her in a long, unhurried kiss. It felt so good to let himself be close to her, to push aside the pretense and stress of pretending he didn’t want her as his. She was his this weekend. “Let’s wash up, and then I’ll run down and get your things so you can change.”

  He began unbuttoning her shirt, and she covered his
hand with hers. “You’re going to stay?”

  “You don’t want to shower together?”

  Her perfectly manicured brows knitted together. “I’ve never…”

  Damn, she was going to kill him with sweetness. At least it’ll be an enjoyable death. It floored him that she could be embarrassed by anything after all they’d done, but that was just one of the things that set her apart from other women and made Mick feel even more protective of her. He’d taken her roughly. Now he wanted to care for her.

  “This isn’t about sex,” he assured her. “It’s about treating you the way you deserve to be treated. Shower with me. Allow yourself to be pampered and cherished. Then we’ll grab something to eat and go to the festival.”

  A wave of apprehension washed over her face, and it twisted his heart anew. He didn’t want to push her any further past her comfort zone. He’d done that Friday night, and getting her to agree to spend this weekend together had been more of a shove than a push. “I’ll wash up in the other bathroom and give you your privacy.”

  “No. Stay,” she said with a sweet smile. “I’m curious about the pampering.”

  He was a hell of a lucky man. “Then let me satisfy that curiosity.”

  He slowly worked the buttons on her blouse, placing a single kiss between her breasts as he slipped it off her shoulders and set it aside.

  “It’s not about sex,” he reassured her as he unhooked her bra, slid the cups from her breasts, and brushed his fingers over her nipples, loving the tiny gasp it earned. “It’s about allowing me to take care of you,” he whispered, and pressed a kiss to each taut peak.

  He reached behind her and unzipped her skirt. It slid off her hips and puddled at her feet. He tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. She placed a trembling hand on his forearm as he stepped closer, his hard cock pressed against her belly, his chest brushing hers.

  “Are you okay, baby?”

  She nodded, lips slightly parted, eyes wide. So beautiful he wished he could carry her to the bedroom and make love to her again, but this wasn’t about sex. This was about releasing all the pent-up, unfamiliar desires he’d been trying to ignore.