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

by Melissa Foster

  With a hopeful inhalation, he went to the kitchen, gathered place settings for dinner, and carried them to the living room coffee table. They’d never been dining room table type of people. He turned on the fireplace and tossed a few pillows onto the floor to sit on. After he finished setting the table, he lit two of the candles they’d purchased earlier in the day. It reminds me of you. He opened the armoire in the corner of the room, revealing a large-screen television, turned on the stereo, and set the remotes on the mantel in case Tawny wanted to curl up and watch a movie.

  He turned at the sound of heels on hardwood, catching sight of Tawny descending the stairs in a sexy little black dress, dark stockings, and a pair of sky-high heels. He was struck speechless. She was always beautiful, but tonight her strawberry-blond hair shimmered against the dark fabric, and she’d done something mystifying with her eyes, giving them a smoky, seductive appearance.

  She ran her hands nervously over her dress as she stepped into the room, bringing her exquisite beauty into full view. The top of the dress was sheer across her breastbone and between her breasts, exposing an enticing path of braless cleavage. The wide neckline left a decadent expanse of bare shoulders for him to devour.

  He placed a hand on her hip and brushed his cheek over hers, her exotic scent luring him in. “You look, and smell, incredible.”

  “Thank you. As do you.” She glanced down at her heels. “I just saw the snow. I didn’t think to bring boots.”

  “It’s coming down really hard. I canceled our reservations and I am having dinner delivered. It should be here any minute.”

  She exhaled a shaky breath. “Okay. I still can’t believe I’m here with you. I was so nervous when I was getting ready, it was like we were going out for the first time or something.”

  “We are, because everything is different now. There’s no hiding, and even though we have history, we’re starting over with clearer communication and a world of experience behind us. We won’t make the same mistakes again, Tabs. We might make new ones, but we’ll figure them out together.”

  Dinner arrived, and they sat on the pillows, feeding each other bites of steak and scallops, toasting their new relationship, and catching up on all the things they’d only touched on.

  “You said your collection of perfume bottles had turned into something more,” he said as he fed her the last of the scallops. “What did you mean?”

  “I forgot you had the ability to remember every word I ever said.” She finished her drink, and Carson got up to fix them each another. Tawny tucked her legs elegantly beside her and toed off her heels. “In my spare time, I’ve been coming up with fragrances inspired by emotions and feelings, and surprisingly, it all started with the unique elements of the bottles. I envisioned my own fragrances in them and started thinking about what perfumes I’d fill them with. It’s sort of become an obsession of matching bottles with feelings and emotions and finding the right combination for each. The scents I’ve come up with are a bit too offbeat for the company I work for, but they speak to me on every level. I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that I should do something with them.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, her eyes slipping away for a moment. “Silly pipe dreams,” she said softly.

  “Silly dreams often lead to the most amazing outcomes. You know that.”

  “I’m not a risk taker, Carson,” she said as they finished eating.

  “You’ve never been a whimsical person, but you’ve taken risks. You risked everything when you broke it off with me and married Keith. You did what you felt you needed to, and you thought the risk was worth the outcome. But it was still a huge risk. You took another risk when you got divorced and moved to Paris. And now you’re here, taking the biggest risk of all. Maybe they’ve all been calculated risks, but they’re still risks. Talk to me, Tabs. I want to know what you’re thinking.”

  “I guess I’ve been toying with the idea of doing something more personal. But I’ve got a secure job that pays me more than I could ever wish for, and giving that up would be…” She bit her lower lip and shook her head. “I don’t know. Irresponsible? Stupid?”

  “Or brilliant?” he suggested. “Tabs, I know nothing about the fragrance industry, but I know you. You’ve got the world’s best smeller in that perky little nose of yours.”

  She laughed, and looked away with the compliment.

  “What are you afraid of? Do you need capital?”

  They carried the dishes into the kitchen as she explained. “No. Between my father’s life insurance and what I’ve earned over the years, I’ve got plenty of money. But there’s a lot to it. I’d need a small lab, retail space. And what I want to do is different and it might flop.”

  She turned on the faucet, and he reached around her and turned it off, placing several kisses along her shoulder. “I’ll take care of the dishes later. I want to spend time with you and hear about your plans.”

  “The kitchen is a dangerous place for us.” She dragged him by the collar out of the kitchen and across the living room to the balcony doors. “This is safer.”

  She looked gorgeous against the blue hue of the snowy night. His arms circled her from behind, and he couldn’t resist tasting her shoulder again. “Tell me more. Figuring out what this is between us was important enough for you to take that risk. Are the fragrances you’re creating and the enjoyment or fulfillment you get from them worth the risk?” He moved to her other shoulder, trailing kisses all the way to her neck.

  “I don’t know. I hope so, the same way I hoped seeing you would help me figure out how to move forward.” She pressed her fingertips to the glass door, as if she needed it for stability. “If you keep kissing my shoulders, I won’t be able to think straight.”

  He pressed his lips to the base of her neck, feeling her shiver against him. “Sure you can. Let’s talk about striking out on your own. You must have been thinking about it for a long time, just as you’ve been thinking about me.” He nipped at her neck.

  “I can’t,” she said breathlessly, craning her neck to the side. “I told you your kisses undo me.”

  He flattened one hand on her belly and ran his other hand down her hip. “Concentrate,” he whispered, knowing he was driving them both crazy. “I want to know how long you’ve been thinking about opening your own shop. I’ll stop kissing you so you can talk.”

  She inhaled a shaky breath and spoke in a tremulous voice. “I’ve inquired about some small shops in Paris over the last few weeks, but more out of a what-would-it-take moment of insanity than anything else.” She swallowed hard, and he tightened his grip on her.

  “It’s not insanity to want to make your dreams come true. You’re a smart woman, and I’d bet you’ve been contemplating it for much longer than you’re letting on. What’s holding you back?” Not kissing her was killing him, but a drive to succeed had always been something they’d had in common, and he wanted to reconnect on every level, not just in bed.

  “I came up with the idea a few years after college, but Keith thought it was too much of a long shot, which fed into my careful nature, so I tried to put it behind me. But the more I thought about it, the more I wanted it. And after my dad asked me about regrets, thoughts of you and ideas about opening up a perfumery got tangled up in my head, and neither one would let me be.”

  “Because you knew I’d support your dreams.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. You always understood my need to get top grades and study until I was bleary eyed. Or maybe I’m just being stupid, clinging to ideas that could never come to fruition.”

  “Don’t fool yourself, Tabs. You didn’t just want top grades. You wanted to know more than everyone else. I loved that about you. And that’s what will make your own shop a success.”

  “I never said I was opening a shop. It’s just an idea I’ve played with. It’s a huge endeavor. And I wouldn’t try to become the next Christine Nagel, although it would be nice to create the next Miss Dior Chérie or Dolce & Gabbana’s The One for Her, but
that’s not my motivation.”

  “No?” He wasn’t sure he believed that. Even if she didn’t realize she wanted to be known in the industry on a broader spectrum, he knew that one day she would—and he wanted that to come true for her.

  “If I did it,” she said carefully. “And that’s a huge if, so don’t get your hopes up, I wouldn’t want to commercialize and sell mass products. I’d want to create and sell my own fragrances in a small, boutique perfumery. I want to make fragrances based on individuals, who they are, what they love, the aura they give off. I want to make personalized perfumes and colognes that are lasting and unique, that remind lovers of what they adore about each other, and about themselves.”

  She leaned back against his chest, and he saw her smiling in her reflection in the glass.

  “Nobody’s doing it, Carson. There are create-your-own perfumes, but people hardly ever wear the right scents for their bodies. I have visions of a small shop where I spend time with clients to determine what their perfect fragrance should be.” Her voice escalated with her excitement. “It’s a crazy idea. I mean, some fragrances have to go through hundreds of renditions before they’re perfected. I can’t imagine I’d make any profit given the time it would take. But it feels so right. Like it’s within my grasp and refuses to be ignored. The way you’ve been all these years.”

  “Tabs, how can you doubt this? Don’t you hear the excitement in your own voice? Feel it in your body?” He took her hand and placed it over her heart, his mind racing with ideas and connections. “Feel that? That’s telling you this is right. But you’ll need an exclusive customer base that recognizes, and can afford, the value of your products. I know a jeweler who works in a similar fashion. I can connect you with him to pick his brain, and maybe you can market to the same clientele. It’s a risk, but wealthy people love customized things, from cars and clothes to fragrances, I’d bet.”

  “That’s a big, fat bet, Carson. I’d imagine it would take most of my savings to start a business like this, and who knows how long it would take to gain clients.” She sighed. “Besides, I’ve been walking a safe path for years. It’s all I know.”

  “It helped you become stronger, more focused, and realize you’d made a huge mistake giving up the only man on earth who is good enough for you.”

  She laughed. “There is that.”

  “You’re so passionate about what you want to do. I think you should give this serious consideration. I’ll help you get started, introduce you to the right people. Life is too short to do anything you’re not passionate about.”

  “You make it sound like such a simple decision. Thank you for offering. I’ll think about it.” She fell silent for a minute, and when she spoke, her voice was as soft and strong as the wine. “I’m passionate about you.”

  He pressed a kiss beside her ear, down her neck, and her back sank into his chest. “I’m passionate about you, too, Tabby.”

  “I love when you call me that.”

  “I know.” His hand moved along her thigh, his fingers trailing over lace and the illicit bump of a garter. “Mm. That’s nice.” He wanted to talk more, but knowing she had on sexy lingerie made him harder by the second. He gathered her hair to the side and placed openmouthed kisses on her neck. “Give it serious thought, babe. You should do it.”

  She reached behind her, grabbing at the back of his legs. “Carson—”

  “What, babe?” He squeezed her thigh, the heat of her center radiating over his fingers.

  “I…I have other ties to Paris now,” she said. “The children at the orphanage.”

  He brushed his fingers over her damp, hot panties.

  “They…Carson,” she whispered.

  “Tell me,” he said firmly, quickly losing grasp on his control. “I want to know.”

  “They’re important to me,” she said quickly.

  He stilled, anxiety and love mounting inside him. He remembered when they were in college, she’d told him that over the summers she’d continued visiting the children she’d tutored. Tawny’s heart was endless, and he couldn’t imagine asking her to leave children she’d bonded with. “Then you’re definitely going back?”

  “I have a job there, a life, no matter how small.”

  “I know, baby, and your world is significant to me. Not small in any way. What are we doing, Tabs? You came to me. I want you.”

  She turned in his arms and looked at him for a long, silent moment, a tangled web weaving between them.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing, Carson. I’m here to try to figure that out.”

  The vulnerability in her voice made his heart ache.

  “We have to figure it out together,” she said as she unbuttoned his shirt.

  She set her smoky eyes on him, holding his gaze as she kissed the skin she revealed. It was all he could do to watch her loving him the way she used to as he silently worked to unweave the tangles. His company worked internationally. He could spend time in Paris, but he couldn’t be there full-time. While he wrestled with the complications of a long-distance relationship, Tawny watched him intently. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, as if she were afraid to say something.

  “Talk to me, Tabs. Don’t hold it in.”

  “I’m not holding it in this time. I promise. It’s just…How can I know what I’m going to do next when you own half of the decision?”

  He clenched his jaw, a war raging in his head as Tawny tugged the tails of his shirt from his pants. He grabbed her hands. They were so small, so delicate, he craved the feel of them all over his body. With a fierce look of determination, she used all her strength to manipulate her hands within his and pressed her palms together.

  “Help me decide, Carson. Take me like you used to. Let’s see where we end up.”

  Christ, she may think he owned half of her decision, but she was so fucking wrong. She owned him, mind, body, and soul. He would give her anything she wanted, anything she needed—and she clearly needed this. His chest constricted with the realization of what she was asking. They were on the exact same page, needing to see if she’d really grown past the uncomfortable feelings she’d described and whether she could handle doing what she craved without panicking the next day when they were out in public. She was testing her own boundaries, and he prayed she’d pass.

  “Turn around,” he commanded.

  CARSON THREADED HIS fingers into Tawny’s hair, tugging it to one side, clearing the way for his hot mouth. Her heart raced as he devoured her neck like he hadn’t tasted her in forever, sucking and biting just hard enough to sting. She inhaled sharply, arching away from the sting and craving it at once. She flattened her palms against the cold glass, grinding against him. His hands moved roughly over her breasts, between her legs, lingering there.

  “My baby wants this,” he said hungrily.

  “I’ve always wanted you.”

  She felt restraint in his touch as he slowed his efforts, his fingers moving in a mesmerizing pattern along her inner thigh, brushing lightly over her panties, then moving away again. He was a master at building anticipation, and oh how she’d missed this. She pressed her palms harder into the glass as he repeatedly slid his fingers along the seam of her panties, following it up to her hip, then down to the crest of her thigh. She closed her eyes as her breathing, and his hips, found the same rhythm as his hand. Up, down, up, down, grind, thrust, grind, thrust. The seductive beat pounded through her, anticipation burgeoning inside her until she thought she might explode. His hand stilled on her inner thigh, his chest pressed tightly to her back, as he sucked her earlobe between his teeth, and she heard herself moan. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe, just stayed right there, making her sex throb. Seconds ticked by in this position. The heat of his fingers against her skin, his teeth clamped on her sensitive earlobe. She was afraid to move, and at the same time, she needed to grind her hips, to feel his hardness moving against her. When he finally slid his fingers beneath her panties, dragging slowly over her slickness, her breat
h rushed from her lungs. She felt her entire body opening to him like a flower to the sun, willing him to enter her. She rocked forward with the hopes of those thick fingers taking her up on her offer, but the moment she rocked, he pulled free and ran his damp fingers over her thigh and garter.

  “You dressed for me,” he said in a guttural voice, thick with lust.

  “For us.”

  He pressed a tender kiss to her shoulder. Then he stepped back, leaving her trembling against the assault of cooler air rushing over her heated flesh. She closed her eyes, shivering and wanting, listening to his steady breathing somewhere behind her. Her fingers curled against the glass, wishing they were curling into him. She heard the swish of his slacks as he moved behind her. Her body shook almost violently, and just when she thought she’d detonate from anticipation, she felt the press of his fingers on her back as he unzipped her dress and pushed it down her arms. It fell to her feet. Hot hands clutched her hips, helping her step out of the dress, and then his hands were gone again, and she was naked, save for her panties, stockings, and garters.

  She opened her eyes, watching his reflection in the glass as he picked up her dress and laid it across the back of a chair. He stripped off his slacks, leaving on his shirt and tight, dark briefs. Oh Lord, he was going to tease her to no end. His body heat preceded him, washing over her back as he stood motionless behind her, letting her know he was there. He was in control. And he would not be rushed. Her sex clenched with need, and her nipples burned. What felt like forever, but in reality was probably only sixty seconds later, his breath coasted along her shoulder, and his tongue followed. He sank his teeth into her skin, and she gasped at the piercing pain and pleasure radiating through her core. His large, strong hands gripped her hips again and moved tightly up and over her rib cage. His thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts softly. She held her breath so she wouldn’t miss it. She’d longed for this delicious torture, and Carson was an expert at doling it out, making her want him so badly she was already close to orgasm.