Bad Boys After Dark: Dylan (Bad Billionaires After Dark Book 2)

by Melissa Foster

“I want to see it in your eyes when I hit ten.” There was that maddening hint of arrogance that should turn her off but had the complete opposite effect.

  She couldn’t suppress a laugh. How could he look so intent on making her wild and say something so off-the-cuff? She’d laughed so much tonight it hardly felt like a hookup. She actually liked him. But she couldn’t afford distractions, especially not him. He’d already proven he was capable of distracting her to epic proportions.

  Time to get her mind back into the game.

  She pushed at his chest, and he rolled willingly onto his back. The wicked glimmer in his eyes relayed his approval as she sank down upon his hard length. Oh yeah, that was nice.

  “Summer has never felt so good,” he said with heat in his eyes.

  He reached for her breasts, caressing her with his rough hands, and rolled her nipple between his finger and thumb, tugging just hard enough to send a spear of pleasure to her core. She swallowed a whimper, but lost herself in the next tug and moaned.

  “I’m learning all my girl’s hot spots.” He tugged again, and she bit down to keep from making any sounds at all. Torture. Pure, erotic torture.

  “I’m not your girl,” she insisted, and closed her eyes again, concentrating on reaching the orgasm that hovered in her periphery. She rode him fast and hard, getting lost in their rhythm as he continued to grope and tweak and drive her out of her fucking mind. She reached behind and beneath her, fondling his sac and hoping for a double rainbow.

  “That’s it, baby,” he said between gritted teeth.

  She was a master at making the best use of her time and had all the sexual time savers figured out. With the right partner she could come in minutes, and make him come just as quickly. But when Dylan’s big hands curled around her hips, taking control and slowing her pace, it felt so good that her need for speed spun away. Nothing else existed except the feel of his cock driving into her, his hands controlling her, and the sound of his voice slithering over her skin as he doled out one compliment after another in a voice so full of passion she needed earplugs to escape its powers.

  “God, summer girl. We’re amazing together.” He pushed his hand into her hair, cradling her head as he dragged her down for another toe-curling kiss.

  They were amazing together, and that scared the shit out of her. She was usually so good at remaining disconnected, but Dylan didn’t allow it. Everything about him demanded attention, and for some reason he destroyed her will to resist it. The way he touched her was probably how he touched every woman he came across, but it felt intimate and personal. And he made these enticing noises in the back of his throat while they kissed, like he couldn’t get enough of her—and she knew she’d feel him inside her for days.

  “Open your eyes.” He rose beneath her, guiding her legs around his waist. “I want to see you, to make you feel good.”

  Every word out of his mouth made her give up a little more control.

  His hands moved lovingly down her back as he sucked her breast into his mouth, sending explosive sparks through her and taking her right up to the edge of release. He was a master at sex. A god. An…Oh God! His thumb was on her clit, massaging with masterful perfection, and she was speeding toward another climax.

  “That’s it, baby, let go,” he urged in a guttural voice that sent her careening over the edge. He was right there with her, holding her so tight she could barely breathe as they both shattered, and she collapsed in his arms.

  Sometime afterward—five minutes, an hour, a week…? She had no idea how much time had passed. It felt like a whirlwind second and a lifetime at once. Dylan whispered, “Summers.”

  She lay against him, utterly spent and so blissfully sated she couldn’t think, much less speak.

  He brushed her hair from her shoulder, moving the strands that were stuck with sweat one by one, and pressed a kiss to her cheek, then to her shoulder. She loved shoulder kisses, and the appreciative sounds slipping from her lips told of her secret pleasure. He didn’t miss a beat, lavishing her shoulder with more tender kisses. She could stay right there for a very long time and be perfectly happy, if it weren’t for one tiny problem.

  This. Was. Cuddling.

  She pushed off his body and squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze, and her heart tumbled in her chest. His eyes had that sleepy, sexy, that-was-so-good look, and he licked his lips like he wanted more. And she did, too, but more in the form of being in his arms, which she added to the list of Scary as Hell Things About Dylan Bad. It went right up there with his seasonal analogies. Too bad there wasn’t a cure for those.

  “Hey, summer girl,” he said sweet and rumbly.

  Sweet and rumbly was her new favorite thing. He ran his fingers down her cheek, and she really liked that, too. He doled out so many little pleasures she hadn’t allowed herself to even dream of.

  “You okay?”

  “No,” she said, uncoiling their bodies and stepping off the bed on wobbly legs. She shook her head as she gathered her clothes and held a finger up to shush him. “Don’t speak. Not a word, with that brain-numbing voice of yours.”

  He chuckled as he shifted to the edge of the bed and rid himself of the condom, then sauntered into the bathroom, giving her a great view of his oh-my-god-I-want-to-touch-it ass. His broad shoulders barely cleared the doorframe, and his torso whittled down to his waist in a perfect vee. Ugh! If she stayed there any longer she’d be doodling their names in a heart.

  She pulled on her panties and jeans, put on her cami, and carried her bra and blouse. She grabbed her boots on the way to the living room, silently chiding herself for tossing her phone aside. How could she have gone without it for so long? She snagged it and her bag from the living room and turned, smacking right into Dylan’s bare chest.

  “In a hurry?”

  He wore his low-slung jeans and nothing else. She took one long, last look, needing it to hold her over for the rest of her life, because really, what other man could live up to him? Oral sex? Pure titillating pleasure. Regular sex? A-plus-plus-plus. Sexy voice? Nailed it. His finger dragging down her arm to her fingertips?

  Wait. What?

  Her eyes dropped to his fingers lightly touching hers. Why did that have to feel so good? So simple, and so…Dylan?

  She sighed and pulled her hand away, earning another low chuckle. Chalk that up to his hard-to-resist qualities.

  “You’re nervous,” he said thoughtfully.

  Damn it.

  “No, I am not.” She stalked to the front door carrying her belongings against her chest like a shield.

  “You are.” Amusement swam in his eyes. “Well, well. Isn’t this interesting?”

  When she grabbed the doorknob, he leaned over her shoulder and pressed his hand to the door. His body loomed over her, heating her up all over again.

  “Did we hit a ten? Is that why you’re all flustered?”

  Ten? That was a fifteen for sure.

  “Eight and a quarter. Tops.” She glared at him to try to convince herself she wanted to leave. “I have to go.”

  “Let me take you out tomorrow night.”

  He said it so sweetly—like he really wanted to go out with her. She was having a hard enough time detaching from what they’d just done. She still felt his hands moving over her flesh, his mouth buried between her legs, and his breath—God, his hot, sensual breath—ghosting over her skin. Goose bumps rose on her arms. He probably had a harem of women he used all the same lines on. Autumn. Beautiful. Please!

  “No, thank you, Dylan. I told you this was a one-time thing.”

  “We both know that’s not true.” He leaned down and touched his lips to her cheek.

  She closed her eyes, willing control back into her body. When she opened them again, he was watching her with a coy smile.

  “Do you mind?” she said firmly. “I have to leave.” Before I climb you like a mountain and plant my flag. Oh boy, she was really losing it.

  “I do mind, but you can rectify that by saying you�
��ll see me again.”

  She grabbed the doorknob again, gathering all her courage. “Not happening.”

  It pained her to say it, because she’d had a great time, and it wasn’t just because the sex was amazing. Dylan was smart, funny, sexy, and thoughtful. He was dangerous to her in ways no man had been since college, and that petrified her. But she’d been down this heart-palpitating, toe-curling, dead-end road before. That painful memory solidified her need to get her head on straight. She was far too busy building her business to get dumped and lose her mind. She’d come a long way since that time of her life, and she was never going back to being the kind of woman who relied on a man for anything.

  “Why?” He pressed several scintillating kisses to her neck, and her traitorous body reacted instantly.

  “Really, Dylan? You want to know why? Most guys would be like, cool. See ya!”

  “I’m not like most guys.” He kissed her again. “And you’re not like most girls. So tell me you’ll see me again.”

  She glared at him again. “Why?”

  “Because I like you.”

  She laughed. “You like hot sex.”

  How could he like her? She wasn’t that likable anymore. She was cold, untrusting, and consumed with work. The pit of her stomach sank with the realization. She’d known it, but until this very second, she hadn’t realized how much of herself she’d lost over the years. Those adopted personality traits had dragged her out from the swamp she’d fallen into after losing the man she’d built her life around and the best friend she’d trusted with all her secrets. They were also the very qualities that allowed her to be laser focused and become a success.

  “That, too,” he admitted, going in for another kiss.

  She ducked out from beneath his arm. “I’m too busy, Dylan. Tonight was fun, but it was a one-time thing. Between my clients and finding office space…”

  “You need office space?”

  “Yes. I’m having a heck of a time finding suitable space, but…” Why was she explaining her business issues to him? “I have no time for…this.”

  He crossed his arms, locking those smoldering dark eyes on her. “Make time.”

  She shook her head, wondering how a person made time. She needed more hours in the day to get through her work.

  He opened the door, and she stared at it, feeling a wave of disappointment float through her.

  “Thank you for understanding,” she said, and stepped into the hall. She started toward the elevator and he followed. “What are you doing?”

  “Walking you home.”

  She laughed again. This laughter was becoming a habit. “I live an elevator ride away.”

  “I’m aware.” He pressed a hand to the small of her back.

  “Presumptuous.” She smirked, secretly liking his possessive touch, and annoyed with herself for it.

  “Gentlemanly,” he countered.

  “This was a stress reliever, Dylan. Nothing more.” The lie tasted acidic. “Don’t make this into something it’s not.”

  “Maybe it started that way, but you put your phone away for me,” he reminded her.

  They rode the elevator in silence, and when they reached her apartment, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. A simple, sweet, non-presumptuous peck that made her swoon.

  “I had a nice time with you, summer girl. Tomorrow night? Dinner?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m working. Probably until midnight.”

  “Twelve oh one, then?” His lips curved into a boyishly irresistible grin that contradicted the powerful male body it accompanied, and it made her smile.

  “Don’t you ever work?”

  “Yes. I own the bar, so I work a lot. But I’m taking some time off to renovate my kitchen. Life is short, and I don’t want to waste a second of it.” He placed his hand on her hip, and her body tingled in greeting. “And for some strange reason, I like your stubborn, controlling, phone-addicted self.”

  He was being so nice, and the spark of honesty in his eyes rattled her. She wasn’t used to nice, and it was surprisingly tempting.

  “Well, you best get over that,” she said halfheartedly, and immediately chided herself for not saying it more abruptly. She was this close to giving in. She distracted herself by digging her keys out of her bag, feeling addled and confused by his attraction to her. She was stubborn to a fault. Controlling wasn’t strong enough to describe her need to maintain a handle on every aspect of her life, and phone addicted? Right this very second she was mentally planning on dropping her things by the front door and grabbing her laptop to cruise through emails at a quicker pace. And yet he was standing there looking at her like she was all he ever wanted.

  “I’m not going to get over it until I see more”—he raked his eyes down her body, making her insides flame—“taste more”—he nipped at her lower lip—“take more”—he pulled her hips against his and his hard cock pressed into her, threatening her last shred of control to end things here and now—“of the woman I’ve only gotten glimpses of.”

  “Wh-what’s that supposed to mean?” She wrapped her fingers around her key chain like a security blanket as his lips came impossibly closer, sucking up all the air within a ten-foot radius.

  “Part of you likes to be appreciated.” He kissed her shoulder. “Cherished.” He kissed her cheek, and her entire body shivered with desire. “Listened to,” he whispered in her ear.

  She was one breath away from hauling him into her apartment and stripping him naked again, and when he slid his hand beneath her hair, resting his warm hand on the nape of her neck, and gazed into her eyes, a dreamy sigh escaped her lips. Somewhere way down deep, the sweeter, trusting girl she’d once been stirred.

  “One date, Summers. Come out and play with me. I promise you’ll enjoy yourself.”

  Her body screamed, Yes! But her mind knew how dangerous it was to open herself up to a man in that way. She forced herself to unlock and push the door open.

  Without a word, because she was afraid she might agree to see him again, she stepped inside, hopefully leaving that defenseless girl in the hallway.

  “See you tomorrow, beautiful,” he said, and blew her a kiss.

  She watched him walk to the elevator, wondering what the hell just happened. Inhaling a deep, calming breath, within the safety of her apartment, she found her control.

  “Not happening,” she called after him.

  Without turning around, he waved and began whistling a happy little tune.

  Chapter Seven

  DYLAN LEFT A little something for Tiffany on his way out for a run Monday morning. He took off in the direction of Central Park, looking forward to meeting his brother Carson for their five-mile loop. Even at six in the morning the city was bustling with cars and pedestrian traffic. Dylan turned into the park, passing other joggers and women pushing strollers while they talked on their Bluetooth headsets, and spotted Carson waiting for him at their usual spot near a particularly large and beautiful tree. They tried to run together a few times each week, and Dylan looked forward to it. It gave them a chance to catch up.

  “Hey,” Carson said, falling into step beside him. “How’s the kitchen reno coming along?” He was younger than Dylan and older than Brett, and the most introspective of the four brothers. Carson was also the only brother who rarely gave any of them shit, but when he did, they knew they deserved it.

  “Great. Painting today. Want to help?” Dylan had renovations down to a science. When he did a full renovation, it took a few days to tear out all the cabinets and repair the walls, a day or two of painting, and then a few days of cabinet installation and countertop work. This year he’d chosen to only reface the cabinets, replace the appliances, and paint.

  “Can’t. Have a meeting that’ll last all day. We’re trying to sign the Greystone account I told you about. Working security for their East Coast division.”

  “The media company. I remember. Good luck.” Carson had been wooing Greystone for months. Dylan didn’t know squat
about international security, but his brothers were magnates in the field. He had no doubt they’d secure the account.

  They ran in comfortable silence for a few minutes, and Dylan’s mind traveled back to Tiffany. She was one tough nut, but in the next breath, she was soft as butter. Strangely, he was equally turned on by, and intrigued by, both. Her voice sailed through his mind. Not happening, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Either wipe that grin off your face or spill it,” Carson said as they rounded a bend and ran alongside the reservoir.

  “How much did you and Brett wager?” Dylan knew Brett would have told Carson about his leaving flowers for Tiffany and about Tiffany not calling to thank him. He also knew how much Brett loved a good bet, and he was just cocky enough to bet against Dylan getting together with Tiffany.

  “Hundred.” Carson glanced over. He wore his wavy dark hair a little longer than Dylan and parted on the side. He had angular features and a serious air about him that he’d had since he was a kid. He always looked like he was deep in thought, and knowing Carson, he usually was.

  “For or against?”

  “Always on your side, bro.” Carson kept his personal life to himself. He’d had a close friend in college, Tawny Bishop, and Dylan had thought that if anyone could bring his brother out of his shell, it was her. But as far as Dylan knew, he and Tawny had never taken their relationship past friendship. In truth, Dylan had no idea if Carson dated at all.

  “You’re a good man,” Dylan said. “And you just won yourself a hundred bucks.”

  “Yeah?” Carson laughed. “Brett’s going to eat crow this afternoon.”

  “So?” Carson said. “You were dead set on going home with her after Mick’s wedding. You’re not really a once and done type of guy, so I assume you’re still seeing her?”

  “Depends which one of us you ask.” She’d fought him hard on seeing him again. He wondered if she’d call Phoebe, whose number he’d left her this morning. Phoebe was a real estate mogul and owned five of the best office buildings in Manhattan, as well as the Ultimate, one of the most sought-after hotels in the area. If anyone could find Tiffany suitable space for her agency, it was Phoebe.