Bad Boys After Dark: Carson (Bad Billionaires After Dark Book 3)

by Melissa Foster

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m so sorry. I wish I had been there for you.”

  “I do, too,” she whispered sweetly, driving the ache deeper. “But you couldn’t have been there without turning my world even more upside down than it already was. It was a really difficult time for me, and my father’s death was just part of the reason. After he died I couldn’t bring myself to go through his belongings. He’d pared down to the essentials before he got really sick. I had no idea he’d been so sick until I came home for the holidays and I noticed the house looked emptier. He told me then that the cancer wasn’t getting better, and he said he didn’t want me to have to weed through his life.”

  She paused, staring across the room as if she was remembering the moment he’d said it. “Anyway, I put his things into storage and sold the house. I still can’t face going through them.”

  He brushed her hair from her cheek, wondering how many other things she’d experienced without someone by her side. “You shouldn’t face that alone. I’ll go with you. We’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

  “You’d do that for me? I can’t promise I won’t fall apart. My dad had been sick for a long time. I should have been ready for the end, but it was awful.”

  “How can you ever be ready to lose someone you love? I’ll be there with you, and if you fall apart, I’ll put you back together.” When his little sister had been diagnosed with leukemia, it had happened so fast, they’d had no time to prepare. It seemed like one day she was sick with a bad rash and then the next they were in the hospital. And then she was gone.

  Her whole body seemed to sigh with relief. “Thank you,” she said softly.

  “Do you want to talk about your dad?”

  She nodded, gratitude rising in her eyes. “I was with him in the days before he passed. He’d lost a huge amount of weight, Carson. It was hard to see his body withering away after he’d been my rock for so long. But really, he was my rock even then, frail or not. He was days from leaving this world forever, and I think he made a point of saving me by saying something that changed the way I looked at my life, and myself.”

  “I can only imagine how difficult that was. I’m here now, and you can count on me, Tabs. I’ll help you with whatever you need. What did he say that made such a difference?”

  She smiled, and that nervous laugh slipped out again. “Well, you knew my dad. You know how serious he was.”

  He’d met her father a few times, but one time stood out in his mind. He’d come to visit when Carson and Tawny had been cramming for a test. They’d had dinner together, and they’d spent the evening discussing family, science, and plans for their futures. It had been an unforgettable night, and not just because of their instant camaraderie, but because her father had reminded Carson of his own father before his sister had died from leukemia, when his father had turned bitter and angry.

  “He was a serious guy, but that’s what I liked about him,” Carson said. “He was honest and real. And in this messed-up world where people have seventeen fake personas on social media and get off on naked Snapchat pics, we need more people like him.”

  “He was an acquired taste for some. Like I am.” She smiled up at him.

  “Acquired taste my ass.” I’d call you an obsession. “Babe, you’re the realest person I know.” He lifted her hand from his stomach and brushed his thumb over the fingers that had once explored his body with such intense curiosity it brought a dull ache. “The world is full of ignorant people who can’t understand complexities. They’re limited, and not always because of cognitive abilities, but because they have no drive to expand their views, which allows them only to fit people into their narrow idea of typical. Those dullards are a dime a dozen. They’re shallow, and unambitious, and they couldn’t pick out a diamond among a heap of rocks.”

  He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and gazed into her eyes. “You are not an acquired taste, Tawny. You’re the piece of computer code only the most adept can read. Fine silk in a sea of polyester. Godiva in a bucket of Hershey’s.”

  She laughed and buried her face in the crook of his arm. “Carson, I’ve missed our friendship so much.” She looked up at him again, a sweet smile playing on her lips. “Do you really want to know what he said?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think you only say what you mean.” Her expression grew serious. “I asked him if he had any regrets, and he said, ‘How can I have any regrets? I spent every minute I could with the love of my life.’ He meant my mother, of course.”

  “Yeah, I got that.”

  “Then he said, ‘And she left me with the greatest gift of all.’”

  He brushed his lips over her forehead. “That’s you, Tabs.”

  “Yeah, I got that,” she said with a sassy arch of her brow. “He was on oxygen, and he paused for the longest time. I thought that was all he had to say. I don’t mean like it was only that, because I felt like what he’d said was significant. But a few minutes later he asked me to get a mirror, and when I did, he told me to look in it. Then he asked if I had any regrets. I couldn’t answer him, Carson. If I was looking at him, I know I would have said no just so he wouldn’t worry about me when he took his last breath. But looking in that mirror? He forced me to see who I’d become, like he knew how unhappy I was. He said, ‘Regret comes from living your life wearing someone else’s skin. It’s fixable.’”

  She shrugged, but he could see the shrug was an act to cover up how affected she’d been.

  “After he passed away, I vowed to figure out my life. I separated from Keith and took a job in Paris with a fragrance company that had been trying to recruit me forever. I decided to stop living an unfulfilling life, and I spent the last couple of years trying to figure out what that meant, and who I was.”

  “You’re killing me here,” he admitted. “All this time I thought you were happily married. What happened, Tawny?”

  “You, Carson. You happened.”

  Chapter Three

  THE GENTLE SOFTNESS in Tawny’s voice captivated Carson, but he didn’t know how to interpret her comment. Was she blaming him for the demise of her relationship? He’d avoided her at all costs to keep that from happening. As badly as he wanted her to be his, he would never want to be the cause of the failure of her marriage.

  “Tabs, I’m not sure I understand. I haven’t seen you since graduation.”

  He was still holding her hand, absently brushing his thumb over her fingers, watching as she contemplated her response. The pulse in the base of her neck quickened, and she swallowed hard again. She lifted her beautiful eyes to his, tides of emotion welling within them as she turned her hand over, revealing her palm.

  His chest swelled with the simple motion.

  When he was younger, he’d thought his love of rough sex and his penchant for silk ties and sexual exploration had set him apart from others in a negative way. His friends were having typical college-age hookups: missionary, doggy style, and blow jobs. While those aspects were enjoyable, Carson had craved more from the time testosterone had let loose in his teenage body. He’d tried to play out his fantasies with a few different girls, but they’d been turned off by a tug of their hair or the command in his voice—commands he was unable, or unwilling, to temper in the heat of the moment. He’d learned to keep that side of himself locked away, zoning out during sex, using it solely as a means to find release. Then he’d met Tawny. They’d been paired off for a chemistry lab, and their connection was immediate. Not just because Tawny was hot as sin, but she was smart, kept her nose to the grindstone, and above all, she respected herself. Carson craved respect, and not just for himself. If a woman didn’t respect herself, then how could he? For that reason alone, he hadn’t had many sexual partners—at least not as many as people seemed to think.

  With Tawny things had moved swiftly from the lab to friendship, and they’d claimed Monday through Thursday evenings as theirs. It had happened seamlessly, and before long, they counted on each other
for more than just help with academics. Whatever Tawny needed—a willing ear to vent to, a friend to have lunch with, someone by her side when she was sick—Carson was there for her, and vice versa. Outside the bedroom. That was a line they hadn’t talked about but had somehow understood existed. Carson had been attracted to Tawny from day one, and two years into their friendship, he couldn’t take it any longer, and he’d pushed her out of her comfort zone. That night changed everything.

  One party.

  A few drinks.

  A single kiss and the line was crossed. A second kiss had almost completely erased the line. Tawny had known of his desire to remain single, though she’d never known his reasons. She’d respected his need for privacy and freedom. At first she didn’t seem to have issues with it, and allowing his true self to come out in the bedroom with her wasn’t a question. He couldn’t have resisted those urges if he’d tried, which surprisingly, he hadn’t. He’d never known why that was, but through their almost two years of Sunday-night sexual exploration, he’d come to understand himself better. He wasn’t a dominant, and he wasn’t a deviant. He didn’t have a dire need to control in order to get off, and he didn’t demand submissiveness in his partner. He didn’t have a name for what he was, because he had only allowed himself to be that man with Tawny. She’d brought it out in him, encouraging and accepting him without question. What they had didn’t need defining. They’d fallen into sharing secret, wordless signals regarding their moods and desires. And then there were the dice. Man, he loved the dice.

  She was giving him a signal now, turning her palm up. She was his, at least for tonight, and as heat rushed like rivers through his veins and he lifted her hand to his lips, trepidation stepped in. She’d broken him when she’d ended their sexual relationship and started dating, then married, Keith, and he’d respected her too much to try to change her mind. He was older, wiser, but was he emotionally stronger?

  He placed her hand flat on his chest, silently telling her to leave it there as he caressed her thigh. “Tell me I didn’t kill your marriage.”

  “You didn’t,” she said a little shakily. “Memories of us did.”

  Memories of them had ruined her marriage? The same way they’d ruined him for any other woman? He had so many questions, but she licked her lips, leaving them slick and enticing, unmistakable passion burning in her eyes, and his need for answers got lost in a surge of desire. She knew how much he loved her lips. He’d told her often enough, though only on Sunday nights. That part of their life had been kept separate from the rest, but she was giving him the green light now. She was here for five nights, and he’d gone without her for too long. He wasn’t about to turn down her invitation.

  Her eyes darkened as he pushed his hand along her smooth, soft thigh and beneath her dress, feeling the rough brush of lace at the top of her thigh-high stockings, the soft expanse of her bare ass, and the sliver of a thong across her hip. He brushed his lips over hers, tracing her lower lip with his tongue. Her breath left her lungs in a needy sigh, and her fingers dug into his chest.

  “I never meant to hurt you.” His hand splayed over her thigh, inching toward the heat radiating from her center.

  “I know,” she said hungrily.

  He pushed his other hand into her hair, threading his fingers in the silky strands and taking hold—unraveling a decade of knots inside him. Lightning flared in her eyes, and it reached deep into his core, calling to the parts of himself he’d repressed for so long and lifting them out of the darkness.

  “I’ve missed your face, Tawny. Your voice, your touch,” he confessed.

  He lowered his lips to hers, taking his first taste of her and reveling in her sweet familiarity. His insides burst to life as he plundered her glorious mouth. His hand fisted tighter, tugging her head to the angle he craved as he intensified the kiss. She was his safe haven, his perfect match, and she was kissing him with all of herself, making those sinful noises that had fueled his fantasies and had always driven him mad. He thrust his hand between her legs, stroking her through her sexy-as-fuck lace thong as he lowered her to the couch.

  “God, Tabs, your mouth. I’ve missed your fucking mouth.”

  He reclaimed her lips, more demanding this time, relishing the slickness it spurred between her legs. It had been so long, he felt like a starving man eating for the first time, and somehow he also felt like no time had passed. Her kisses, her scent, and the feel of her hand clutching his skin like she never wanted to let him go were exhilarating. He teased and stroked until her panties were drenched and she was writhing, whimpering into his mouth. Her body was more than a wonderland; it was a world in and of itself, responsive and desirous, impossible to deny. He pushed her panties aside as he drew back from the kiss and dragged his fingers lightly over her slick heat. She was shaved bare, just the way he loved her.

  “Open your eyes,” he demanded. “I want to see what I’m doing to you.”

  He brushed his thumb over her clit as she opened her eyes, and she sucked in a sharp breath. She needed this as much as he did. His fingers played over her wet flesh, teasing and taunting, and when her hips rose, urging him to take more, he withdrew from between her legs. She whimpered, and he brought his glistening fingers to his lips and slicked his tongue over them, tasting her sweetness. A guttural moan tore from his lungs, like she was the sustenance he needed to survive. He rubbed those fingers over her lips and pushed them gently into her mouth. Christ, she was incredibly sexy as her tongue moved over his fingers without question. It had been too long.

  “Suck.”

  She held his gaze, her lips closing around his fingers. She was so beautiful and trusting, he wanted to strip her bare and take his fill, but he was in no rush to get hurt again. He needed to understand what had happened all those years ago and why she was really there. He kissed her again, tasting her arousal, drawn deeper into her with every breath. He pushed his hand between her legs again, squeezing her thigh and teasing her with his thumb, earning a greedy moan.

  “Touch me,” he said.

  Her soft, delicate hand moved to his cheek, cupping his jaw, sliding over his neck, and up into his hair. While other women would go straight for his cock, Tawny knew just how to touch him, and the tension drained from his body. She dragged her nails down the back of his neck, a seductive grin lifting her lips as she dug them into his skin just below his collar. He fucking loved that. He unbuttoned his shirt and stripped it off, drinking in her ravenous gaze as it traveled over his chest and down his abs. He set his shirt aside as she rose beneath him, her soft hands and sweet lips trailing over his pecs. She sealed her mouth over his nipple, clamping down hard.

  “Fuck, baby, you feel good.”

  Her gaze flicked up, watching him as she dragged her tongue over the bite marks. He fisted his hand in her hair, holding her tight against him as she sucked and licked and drove him out of his mind. He yanked her head back and crushed his mouth to hers, wanting everything and knowing he needed to slow down and make sure her head—and her heart—were in the same place before he put his whole self on the line. But slowing down was not something he could do when everything he craved was right there in his arms.

  He pushed to his feet, bringing her up beside him. She tucked her hair behind her ear and lowered her trembling hand to her side. She was so real, nervous and eager at once. He moved behind her and unzipped her dress, leaving it open as he stepped in front of her, searching her eyes for hesitation. Raw, unbridled passion stared back at him. He gently lifted her dress off her shoulders and let it tumble around her feet, exposing her gorgeous figure. Her ivory breasts strained behind black lace. The thin strips of her thong rode high on her full hips. Her thigh-high stockings looked even darker against her creamy skin.

  “You are flawless and feminine.” He ran his fingers up her ribs, and she shivered. “Feel what you do to me.”

  She palmed his throbbing cock through his slacks, and her lips parted.

  “Stroke me.”

  She ob
eyed, holding his gaze. Her touch was perfect, tight and firm. It took all of his control not to strip his pants off and push her to her knees. She was biting her lower lip, her signal that she wanted him to do just that. Her cues were as familiar as if no time had passed.

  He ran his finger over her lips. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want you in my mouth.”

  “Just hearing you say that makes me want to fuck your mouth, but I won’t.” He cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb over her lower lip, and she sucked it into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. Lust seared directly to his cock. He withdrew his thumb slowly, watching her tongue follow it out, licking all the way to the tip.

  “Please,” she begged. “I want to taste you.”

  “You know better than to try to rush me.”

  She pressed her lips together, a smile tugging at their edges.

  He ran his hands down her arms. Her skin was hot from the fire. “I want to do everything at once. Drop to my knees and pleasure you.” He kissed the swell of her breasts, and dragged his tongue along the deep crevice between them. “I want to bend you over the back of the couch and fuck you until you forget what it was like to have any other man inside you.”

  “Carson—” rushed from her lips.

  He traced the edge of her stockings with his finger, and she held her breath.

  “I want to lay you down and make love to every inch of your body, slowly and meticulously, until you are completely and totally mine.” But anticipation was everything, and for now he filled his palms with her sweet ass and kissed her breasts through the lace. He sucked each taut peak, earning a string of seductive, needful sounds. His hands slid along the length of her thong, between the supple globes of her ass, and teased over her tightest hole.

  “Carson, please—”