Bad Boys After Dark

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Bad Boys After Dark Page 11

by Melissa Foster


  “It means he can’t line up his groupies as easily.” Brett shook his head. “I don’t give a shit if he gets pissed. No one who hasn’t been screened gets backstage.”

  “Did you seriously just say that?” Thomas glanced at Gio, who smirked.

  Brett knew he micromanaged the team, but after the recent public bombings, he wasn’t taking any chances.

  “You should have heard the crap they said when we told them we had to check out the band members,” Thomas added.

  “The artists are always the worst,” Brett said. “They think that because they’re the talent, they’re clean, but one of these days it’ll be a drummer who loses his mind.”

  “Not on our watch,” Gio said.

  There was a rumble of agreement and head nodding around the room. Half an hour later they wrapped up the meeting. Brett picked up a bottle of wine and a movie and hightailed it over to Sophie’s, worrying whether his staff had felt rushed, or if that was just his impatience to see Sophie getting the best of him.

  When he stepped from the cab and raced up the steps to Sophie’s apartment building, her voice trailed through his mind. Don’t you ever plan anything?

  He stopped at the entrance, chastising himself for not remembering to call ahead. “Fuck.”

  “Excuse me?” the doorman said.

  “Sorry. Forgot something.” Brett jogged back down the steps to the sidewalk and called her.

  “Hey.”

  The smile in her voice took his anxiety down a notch. “Hi. I, um. Are you busy tonight? I’d love to see you.”

  “Um, I have a standing booty call with this guy I know…”

  “Soph,” he said, and looked up at the clear night sky. “Don’t call it that.”

  “Sorry. I was kidding. I’d love to see you.”

  “Great, babe. See you soon.” He ended the call, and the doorman pulled open the door. He must have heard Brett’s conversation, because he gave him a thumbs-up as he passed through.

  Five minutes later Sophie was in his arms, smiling into their kiss, and nothing else mattered.

  When their lips parted, her hand snaked around his neck the way he’d come to adore, and she said, “I’m not done yet,” in a seductive voice that made his body, and his heart, throb.

  He deepened the kiss, and the bottle of wine he’d forgotten he was holding slipped. He fumbled for it, catching it just before it hit the floor and slowing him down enough to get a good look at her. Sophie always looked gorgeous, but tonight she had on a pair of cutoffs and a simple white shirt, with a long tan cardigan that hung to her knees. She looked relaxed and comfortable, like the small-town girl she was, and it made him want to experience more of that side of her.

  “You brought wine?”

  He held up the movie from Redbox. “And Get Out.” The shine in her eyes made his heart feel even fuller, which he hadn’t thought possible.

  She snagged the movie from his hands. “Oh my gosh. You got a movie? Suspense? You hate suspense. Wait. Do you hate suspenseful books and movies?”

  He chuckled and pulled her in for another kiss. “Both, but you love it, so I can deal with it.”

  She ran her fingers over the label on the wine, tempered hope brimming in her eyes. Tempered. He hated that. He wanted her to know how he felt, to count on him and take for granted that he wanted to do things just for her. His pulse quickened erratically with the direction his thoughts were taking him, but he didn’t push back. Not this time. Not when pushing back meant seeing that tempered look, which made him even more restless than he was when they were apart.

  “Château Lafite Rothschild?” she asked.

  “Your favorite red wine from France.”

  “How did you know?” Her mouth twitched in a surprised and still hopeful smile, giving him another dose of too-much-to-handle.

  “You ordered it at Mick and Amanda’s wedding, and I heard you tell the girls it was your favorite.” Mick and Amanda had gotten married last year at a bar called the Kiss, and Brett and Dylan had taken over as bartenders for part of the evening.

  “And you remembered?”

  “I notice and remember everything about you, even before then and every day since. I noticed the way your cheeks pinked up when I propositioned you all those times before we got together, the way you stood up straighter and your eyes squinted the tiniest bit when you were preparing to turn me down, and the way you make sighing sounds at things that must warm you or something. Why do you think I’ve got a bottle of it at my place?”

  “Wait. You weren’t kidding when you said that the other night?”

  “I told you I would always tell you the truth, didn’t I? I wasn’t kidding. I was hoping you’d eventually accept my proposition.”

  “You bought a six-hundred-dollar bottle of wine on the hopes of making out with me?”

  “No.” He swept her into his arms and touched his lips to hers. “I bought it knowing I’d never give up trying.”

  “That sounds awfully committed, Mr. Bad.” She grinned up at him, and all that hope turned to something he was afraid to name.

  “We’re not going to use that word, but yes, I was determined to have you, Ms. Roberts. Now, may I interest you in a movie and a bottle of wine?”

  “Like a date?” She whispered the word date.

  “What is it with you and labels?”

  “I work in a field where we need to be very clear about our intentions.” Her expression turned serious. “Besides, a girl likes to know when she’s crossed over from booty call to something more.”

  Brett clenched his hands, scared to take the plunge he avoided like the plague, not because he didn’t trust his feelings for her, but because he didn’t know how the part of him that ran from commitment like a rebellious child would react if he gave in to them.

  One look in her eyes and he knew this was a step he wanted—needed—to take.

  “You were never a booty call, Soph. You were always something more.”

  Chapter Nine

  SOPHIE COULDN’T BELIEVE her ears. She’d known in her heart this might eventually happen, but hearing Brett say it was so much bigger than dreaming about it. She had to ask the burning question. “What changed?”

  “I don’t know. Everything?”

  He carried the wine into the kitchen, and she wondered if he was avoiding the conversation. Running. Feeling boxed in. She handed him two wineglasses from a cabinet.

  As he poured the wine, he said, “I hate seeing that look in your eyes, like you don’t know if you can count on me, and I know I cause it. But I don’t want you to worry about whether I’m your man or if I mean what I say.” He turned confident, dazzling eyes on her and said, “I mean every word.”

  She felt like she wanted to cry and laugh at the same time and had the urge to text Grace and tell her that he was a mind reader after all. “But what about feeling hemmed in and ruining us?”

  He handed her a glass and gazed deeply into her eyes with a serious expression. “I don’t honestly know. I’m messed up, but my brothers worked through their issues, which gives me hope. I want to try with you, Sophie. If you still want to try with me, that is.” He put his hand on hers and said, “You’re trembling.”

  She cleared her throat to try to regain control of her emotions. “I didn’t realize how badly I wanted to hear that from you until just now. I want to, Brett. I definitely want to.”

  The air rushed from his lungs and he pulled her into a tight embrace.

  “Can we talk about it?” she asked carefully, feeling his heart thudding against her own.

  “Yes, but if you don’t mind, right now I’d just like to sit and hold you while we watch the movie, drink a little wine, and come to grips with doing what most people do from the time they are teenagers. This is a huge first for me, babe.”

  “You’ve never had a girlfriend? Like, ever?”

  “If a week in high school counts, then sure, but when you grow up in a house where one day you’re standing on solid ground an
d the next everything you’ve ever known and counted on has been ripped to shreds, long-term loses its significance.” He kissed the tip of her nose and said, “Think you can give me a little time to adjust?”

  It pained her even more knowing how much losing his sister had affected his whole life. The hurt still practically radiated off him. “You know what? I think we just figured out why you have a hard time with commitment.”

  His face clouded with uneasiness.

  Realizing he’d just asked for time to adjust and she’d thrown another life changer at him, she quickly added, “We’ll take baby steps.”

  He captured her mouth in a powerful kiss that rolled through her like thunder. “I don’t do anything like a baby, got it?”

  “You sure don’t, but maybe you should remind me again with another kiss.”

  “Okay. But you need to know that I’m not ignoring what you said. You might be right, but I don’t want to dissect it tonight, okay?”

  “No dissecting. Only kissing.”

  Several scorching-hot kisses later, they kicked off their shoes and curled up on the couch to watch the movie. Sophie was as shocked by Brett’s abrupt change as she was by his confession about the wine. An hour into the movie, she still couldn’t stop stealing glances at him, trying to reconcile all the parts of her complicated, emotional man. She couldn’t help but wonder how much hurt lingered beneath his tough exterior.

  His gaze moved from the television to her, catching her staring. “Come here, babe.”

  He shifted so they were lying on the couch with him spooning her, and ran his hand along her thigh. His breath was warm on her neck, and when he pressed a kiss there, she closed her eyes and soaked it in.

  “I like your outfit. I’ve never seen you in cutoffs.”

  His voice brought her eyes open again, and she turned around so she was facing him. “No one wears cutoffs in the city, so I don’t wear them out.”

  “You should wear them everywhere.” He kissed her softly and squeezed her bottom. “I take that back. You should wear clothes that cover you up around other guys.”

  Even though he said it teasingly, she remembered how he’d questioned Charlie and said, “You’re a very jealous boyfriend.”

  “What’d you call me?” He drew back, his tone serious again.

  “Jealous, which you are, even if you deny it.”

  “Hell, babe. I’m not denying it. Wouldn’t you be if you were me? You’re smart, sexy, and sweeter than honey, and I’m a lucky guy. But that’s not what I was asking about. You called me your boyfriend.” A soft smile lifted his lips. “I’m digging that.”

  “Really? But it’s a label.”

  “No shit. Stop reminding me. Just go with it.” He kissed her again. “I’m not complaining about this, but you can’t see the movie if you’re facing me.”

  “I’ve already seen it,” she whispered, and buried her face in his chest.

  “What? Why didn’t you tell me?” He grabbed her ribs, tickling her as he swept her beneath him.

  She squealed. “Stop! Stop! Stop!” she pleaded.

  He lifted her shirt and kissed her belly. “Answer the question or I’ll do it again.” His hand hovered over her ribs.

  “No, please!” She swatted his hand away. “You went to all this trouble. I didn’t want to ruin it. I love that you thought ahead and brought a movie over.” She pulled him up by his biceps and studied his handsome face. He looked different, happier, lighter.

  “I need a list of all the movies you’ve seen,” he demanded.

  “Why? No one gets Redbox anymore when we can stream movies right to the television. I thought you were a movie guy. You should know that.”

  He lowered his mouth to her ribs in a series of openmouthed kisses that made her squirm. “I know how to stream movies.” He kissed his way up the center of her stomach to her neck and all the way to her lips, then perched above her. “I admit that I don’t have much practice with this, but showing up and saying, ‘Let’s stream a movie,’ doesn’t sound as romantic as showing up with a movie in hand.”

  She pulled him down so their lips touched and whispered, “That’s why I didn’t say anything. I love that you brought it, and I love that you thought of me and what I’d like. So instead of tickling me, how about we take this into the bedroom and you can thank me properly?”

  He was on his feet in three seconds flat, stripping off her sweater. “I’m going to thank you all night long. Think you can handle that?”

  “I’m game for anything as long as it’s with you.” She palmed his erection, and he groaned, making her entire body tingle.

  “Christ, Soph,” he ground out. “Now I can’t remember what I was going to say.”

  “It’s a good thing thinking isn’t required for what I have in mind.” She fumbled with the button on his pants and he grabbed her wrist, stopping her cold with his dark stare.

  “Did you hear what I said, babe? I’m not leaving you tonight. Can you handle that?”

  Her eyes widened and her fingers curled around the waist of his pants. “You’re staying? For the night?”

  “Unless you don’t want me to.”

  “Are you kidding? You’re staying!” She leapt into his arms, earning a hearty laugh and another butt grab. “I can handle it, but are you sure you can?”

  He strode toward the bedroom with her in his arms. “How about I show you just how well I can handle it.” He set her on her feet beside the bed and took her in a slow, sensual kiss. “All.” He lifted her shirt over her head and kissed the swell of her breast. “Night.” He removed her bra, sat on the edge of the bed, and pulled her over so she stood between his legs. As he lowered his mouth to her breast, he said, “Long.”

  THURSDAY MORNING BRETT awoke to the feel of Sophie’s warm breath whispering over his cheek in soft, repetitive puffs. She was nestled against him in the same position in which she’d fallen asleep, with one knee tucked between his legs and a hand on his neck, as if she didn’t want to chance him running away. The thought made him happy and brought a knot to his gut at the same time. How did they end up here so quickly? A few days ago he was spouting off about not being her great love affair and Sophie had accepted him as such. She hadn’t pushed, hadn’t given him an ultimatum or otherwise tried to pressure him into committing, and she’d managed to reel him right in. He waited for regret to hit, for the restlessness that had chased him his whole life to send him sneaking from the bed and searching for his clothes. It was there, prickling around his edges, trying to get his attention, but there was an even bigger feeling standing in its way. He opened his eyes and found Sophie watching him with a tender, contemplative expression.

  “Hi,” she said sleepily.

  Her sweet, trusting voice doused those prickly edges. “Hey. Did I wake you?”

  She shook her head, a smile lifting her lips. “But I’m glad you’re still here.”

  “Soph…” He brushed her hair from her face, feeling a pang of guilt. “Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

  She shrugged.

  “You knew I was leaving all those other nights. You asked me to stay until you fell asleep, I didn’t…Shit. Was I supposed to read further into that? Why didn’t you say something? I told you I had no clue about how to go about this.”

  “No, you weren’t supposed to,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean that. I just wasn’t sure if you’d be here this time, even though you said you would.”

  Her words felt like a well-deserved punch to the gut.

  “I get why you’d worry, and I’m sorry for that. But you have to know I would never let you think I’d stay and then leave. I haven’t been able to go without seeing you for a single day since we’ve been together. You didn’t force me to. I’m here because I want to be with you.”

  She nodded, brows furrowed, which made that knot in his gut tighten.

  “I don’t want you to get scared and end this,” she said softly. “I’m okay with you not staying over if it’s easier for you.


  “Why?” came out before he could stop it. “You shouldn’t be okay with it night after night. You deserve more.”

  Her lips curved up at the edges. “I’m glad you see that, but my new boyfriend said he bolts when things get serious, so…”

  He rubbed his nose along her shoulder, inhaling the lingering scent of their lovemaking. “I’m not bolting.” He nipped at her neck. “I want to be here with you, and if I feel boxed in I promise I’ll tell you. I won’t just take off or end things.”

  “Thank you,” she said as he kissed his way down her arm. “Because a girl could get used to waking up to this.”

  “A girl?” He dragged his tongue along her side, kissed the dip of her waist and the swell of her hip. “Or you? Because I don’t give a damn about anyone else.”

  She squirmed as he kissed his way over her hip to her backside. “Me.”

  “Damn right, you.” He gave her ass cheek a gentle bite.

  She gasped, then glared at him. In the next breath, she curled around his body and bit his ass.

  “Ow,” he said with a laugh. “You are a feisty girl.”

  Holding his gaze, she rolled onto her back and crooked her finger. He loved how she didn’t hold back. Every time they were together he felt closer to her. He grabbed her wrist with his right hand, holding it beside her head as he spread his left hand over her thigh and pinned her to the mattress, then lowered his mouth to her breast the way he knew she loved.

  “Brett,” she begged. “I want more of you. I want you in my mouth.”

  “I haven’t had my fill yet.”

  He leaned across her body and circled her other nipple with his tongue. Then he blew cool air over the wetness. She arched beneath him, straining against his hands. He squeezed her thigh as he grazed his teeth over the sensitive nub and moved his hand between her legs, teasing over her slick center. A long, surrendering moan left her lungs.

  “Jesus, Soph. You have no idea how good you feel.” He brought his lips to hers as he teased between her legs. He traced her lips with his tongue and whispered, “I don’t know what I want to do first. Fuck your mouth or sink into you so deep you feel me tomorrow when you’re sitting in your pretty little skirt at work and you get wet just thinking about me.”

 

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