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

by Melissa Foster

  Beneath First kiss, he’d written yesterday’s date and First dinner together, and on the next line he wrote, Homework: learn to cuddle. A wave of discomfort rolled through her. He wanted her to let her guard down even more, which was fair, given how far they’d gone last night and how close they were becoming, even if it wasn’t the traditional type of dating repertoire. But somehow it was easier on the phone to let down her walls than it was in person. That thought bothered her, but the memory of what truly trusting someone and letting her guard down earned her still burned like a fresh bee sting. It wasn’t just her cheating ex. They’d been so young at the time, the fact that he’d cheated hadn’t been all that shocking. But with her best friend? That hurt. Coupled with her mother’s abandonment, she was still wrestling with pretty harsh demons.

  Clutching the book to her chest and pushing those ugly thoughts aside, she breathed deeply. Dylan was proving to be unlike anyone she knew, and it was unfair to both of them for her to put up a wall when she didn’t really want to—even if it frightened her not to.

  She forced her fears down deep and sent him a text. Thank you for the amazing gift. This put you up to a solid nine.

  His response was immediate. Nine? Save time for me Saturday after we meet with Phoebe. I’ll give you what you deserve. You’re underselling yourself by only expecting a ten.

  Dylan had gotten to her despite her best efforts to keep him at bay. And she liked how she felt when she was with him and when she thought of him. She’d opened herself up to him sexually in ways she hadn’t with any other man. That was a big step, but it wasn’t the most difficult one. Dylan made her want to try to open up her heart, but she wasn’t sure she knew how to reach the key.

  DYLAN LOOKED OVER his cards. A pair of jacks and a pair of sixes. Not exactly a stellar hand of poker, but not necessarily a losing hand, either. He glanced around the table, reading the faces of the others. Brett’s serious expression told Dylan he was either pissed about a shitty hand, or he was thinking about a client. There was no way to tell which, as Brett might come across as flippant, but his mind was always processing something big. Dylan hoped it was a shitty hand. He moved on, checking out Carson, whose poker face was better than that of any man he’d ever met. His eyes gave away nothing as he met Dylan’s gaze, and a slow smile lifted his lips.

  “You should fold,” Carson said casually, and nodded at Jackson Wild sitting to Dylan’s right. They’d grown up with the Wild brothers, two of whom were there tonight, Jackson and Cooper. Jackson and Cooper partnered in a very successful photography business, both had recently married, and currently they were having a stare down of their own.

  “Don’t fold on my account,” Jackson said. “But Coop looks like he’s going to give you a run for your money.”

  Cooper smirked and slid an amused gaze to Dylan. “You believe he’ll fold? The man’s bluffing.”

  “You guys forget how well I know you,” Dylan said, looking around the table at his closest friends and brothers. He thought about all they’d been through together. They’d raised a lot of hell together throughout the years. The Wilds had been there for them when they’d lost Lorelei. And their connection remained just as thick in adulthood. Jackson and Cooper’s parents had been brutally attacked during a home invasion. Their father was murdered, and their mother was severely beaten and left blind and widowed. Dylan and his brothers had been there for them then, as well. Life was fucking unfair, but one thing never changed. Their bond of brotherhood ran deeper than bloodlines.

  Dylan set his cards facedown on the table and pointed at Carson. “You’ve got at least three of a kind.” He shifted his aim to Jackson. “Easily a full house.” Glancing at Cooper, he said, “You’ve got a baby on the way, so my guess is that’s what you’re thinking about and you’ve got shit for a hand.” Cooper and his wife, Cici, had a little girl, and she was pregnant with their second child. “And Brett?” Dylan laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair with a grin. “He’s either thinking about going down on Sophie, which will never happen, beating the shit out of some asshole who’s stalking one of his clients, or he’s wondering when in the hell the pizza’s going to get here. But he’s got shit for a hand, just like me. I fold.”

  Brett laughed. “Now that my mind is full of dirty images of Sophie—”

  “When isn’t it?” Carson quipped.

  Brett leaned across the table, his eyes full of challenge. “When I’m thinking about Poppy Kiss.” Poppy Kiss owned the bar where Mick and Amanda had been married, and Carson had shamelessly flirted with her all night long. But as far as Dylan knew, that had never gone anywhere.

  As his brothers swapped I’m thinking about jeers, Dylan’s mind traveled back to last night. He hadn’t intended to have phone sex with Tiffany, but man was he glad they did. Not only was it hot, but it forced them to communicate and think about their intimacy on a physical and emotional level. He could tell from Tiffany’s unexpectedly shy moments that she had been thinking those things, too. It was a totally different experience from sharing the same bed, and it made him feel closer to her.

  A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts.

  “About damn time. I’ve got it.” Brett pushed to his feet, pulling his wallet from his pocket as he went to answer the door.

  TIFFANY’S HEART WAS beating so fast she feared she’d faint before Dylan opened the door. I can’t do this. Yes, I can. He puts himself out there all the time for me. It’s my turn.

  Gulping air into her lungs, she heard steps approaching on the other side of the door and closed her eyes. If she didn’t see him, it would be easier. With one hand on the red ribbon she’d looped around the waist of her new thigh-length jacket, she plastered a smile on her face, and when she heard the door open, she pulled the ribbon, allowing her jacket to spring open.

  “Surprise!” She threw the ribbon into the air and opened her eyes, seeing a man she didn’t know ogling her naked body.

  “Ohmygod!” She frantically tried to close her jacket and lost her balance on her stilettos, falling breasts first into the tall and dark stranger’s arms.

  “Well, hello, beautiful.”

  She scrambled away, her mind spinning in a hundred directions. Did she have the wrong apartment? She was naked! Naked! Oh God! She turned to run and fell flat on her face, bare ass up, her jacket puddled around her middle. Tears sprang to her eyes as Dylan’s angry voice boomed through the apartment.

  “Summers?”

  She pushed to her knees, unable to concentrate on the litany of curses Dylan was spewing toward the man she’d fallen into, and catching sight of three other guys sitting around a table. Holy shit. She knew two of them. Cooper and Jackson Wild. She used them for her clients’ promotional photos. She’d barged in on Dylan’s guys’ night! Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She took in the playing cards on the table, the open beer bottles. All of this whipped through her mind at breakneck speed as the stranger reached for her hand and Dylan pushed him out of the way, helping her up on wobbly legs.

  Dylan turned her roughly by the shoulders, away from the others, holding her jacket closed with a clenched fist. She had no doubt that the only reason he didn’t rip that other man apart was because he wanted to ensure her fucking jacket remained closed. Tears of anger and embarrassment streamed down her cheeks, and that pissed her off.

  He scowled over her shoulder. “Brett! Sit. Fucking. Down.”

  “Oh, right. Sorry, man. Hey, for what it’s worth, that was the hottest thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

  “Brett! I’ll fucking rip you apart. Sit down and shut the fuck up. Now,” Dylan growled as he guided Tiffany toward the door, his arm circling her so tightly she was sure he’d slit his skin open and sew her up inside it if he were able. “Ignore my fucking brother.”

  Brother? She could barely think past hoping the building might spontaneously explode so she didn’t have to face Dylan ever again. In the hall, he pulled the door shut behind them. She wrenched from his gr
ip and hurried toward the elevator, holding on to the wall so she didn’t fall ass over teakettle again.

  “Summers!” he said angrily. He caught up to her quickly and reclaimed her with a strong arm around her waist.

  “Go away.” She pushed the elevator button repeatedly, fighting off tears.

  “You didn’t come up here for me to go away.” He moved in front of her, his face a mask of anger and lust—and hell if that didn’t turn her on, which only pissed her off even more.

  “Your body is for my eyes only,” he said through clenched teeth. “Got it?”

  In her effort to keep her tears from falling, she made a humiliatingly weak choking sound.

  His eyes closed for a beat, his jaw muscles flexing. His grip on her tightened painfully, but when he opened his eyes, his gaze was slightly softer, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.

  “Hey, summer girl.” The restraint in his voice was palpable. “You came to see me with a sexy surprise. I love that.”

  She swallowed the lump clogging her throat as the elevator arrived, and she pushed past him, waving her hand. “I can’t…”

  Inside the elevator she pressed the button for her floor over and over, knowing it wouldn’t do a damn bit of good. The stupid elevators were slow as molasses.

  “Please go home, Dylan. Can’t you see that I’m mortified?”

  Dylan didn’t listen. Did he ever? Instead, he invaded her space, wrapping his arms around her waist like he owned her and looking at her like she was the most wonderful creature on earth. She turned her face away, losing the battle with her burning tears.

  “Please, Dylan,” she choked out. “Just this once, please listen to me.”

  “I am listening, and I’m walking you home,” he said firmly, and wiped her tears with the pad of his thumb. “Fuck, Summers. Fuck.” He ground his teeth together. “I know you’re embarrassed, but—”

  “I’m not embarrassed.” It was a knee-jerk save-face reaction, but only a partial lie. “I’m pissed. Your brother saw me naked! Jackson and Cooper saw me naked! I work with them. Did you know that?”

  “Yes, I fucking know that.” His voice escalated, and he paused, his grip tightening again as he visibly reined in his anger once again. “They told me earlier when I said I was seeing you. My other brother was there, too. Carson. He may or may not have gotten an eyeful, but as embarrassing as that is right this second, it’s not the fucking end of the world.”

  She dropped her eyes, unable to meet his stare. He pressed a finger beneath her chin, drawing her gaze back to his, and the compassion surfacing made her knees weak.

  “And as for Brett, I’ll beat him to a pulp to erase his memory if I have to, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll hire a witch doctor. But I’m okay with that.”

  “Ohmygod.” She groaned. “How can you make light of this? I don’t know what I was thinking, putting myself out there like that. I clearly don’t know how to do this. I can’t do this. Please, Dylan, just let me go home and throw out this ridiculous jacket and stupid heels and forget this ever happened.”

  The elevator stopped at her floor, and without a word he put a hand at her back and walked with her to her apartment. The interminable silence gave her far too much time to think about what she’d done, why she’d done it, and how she could never use the Wild brothers’ photography service again. She had made a stupid, impulsive decision, and it had led to irreparable damages to her professional life, and, she hated to admit even to herself, to her ego. Being with Dylan made her impulsive, and she couldn’t afford to be impulsive. Especially if it affected her business.

  Forcing all the courage she could muster from places she didn’t know could hold it, she looked into the eyes of the kindest, sexiest, manliest man she knew and told a boldface lie.

  “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  TIFFANY SOUNDED AS heartbroken as Dylan felt as her words sliced through him. He knew it was her embarrassment overshadowing everything else, but he needed her to see that. He thought about making light of the situation, but Tiffany had a nose for bullshit, and if he really wanted to continue seeing her and build something more, which he definitely did, they needed a strong, honest foundation.

  “You don’t want that, Summers. You’re embarrassed, and rightfully so, but doesn’t the fact that you put yourself out there like that for us tell you something?”

  Laughter bubbled out of her mouth. “Yeah, that I’ve completely lost my mind.” She shoved her hand in her pocket and pulled out her key, fumbling nervously to unlock the door.

  Dylan placed his hand over hers. “Let me.”

  He unlocked the door and held it open with his shoulder. “There’s no way in hell I’m walking away when you’re just starting to let me in. I can see how hard it is for you to open up to me, and I may not understand why, but I hope one day you’ll share that with me, too.” Her gaze softened and he stepped closer. “Everything you do makes me fall harder for you. You can stomp your feet and say you’re done, but you’re not done, Summers. The woman I met in the bar nearly a week ago would never have put herself out there like that. You like me. You like us. We’re good together. We’re hot together. We’re so fucking right, it scares the shit out of you.”

  Her brows knitted, but she leaned toward him, breathing a little faster. The confusion in her eyes told him it wasn’t a conscious move. They were drawn together by a force stronger than either of them. When their lips touched, the kiss quickly became heated and desperate. He needed to pull away so they could talk and clear the air. He wanted to understand her better, but he wanted this—her feverish, greedy kisses, the feel of her heart beating so fast her breath pulsed with it. When they finally parted, both of them breathing hard, she grabbed the front of his shirt, just above his waist, and held on tight.

  “I don’t think you grasp what happened.” Her eyes were full of desire, but her tone was aghast. “Your brother saw me naked, Dylan. How can I ever get past that? Doesn’t it bother you? How can you ever get past that?”

  “Because I think what you did for me was spectacular, and you’re the sexiest, most intriguing woman I’ve ever met. And yes, I hate that Brett saw you naked and that Carson might have seen you, but Brett’s brain will be filled with new images by tomorrow morning, while I’ll still only be thinking about you.”

  She tightened her grip on his shirt, bringing him closer, though he didn’t think that was a conscious move either. “Dylan,” she said in a rushed whisper. “You can have any woman you want. Why do you want to keep seeing me? I’m always busy, and I’m not exactly easy to connect with or warm and loving.”

  “But you are all of those things. It just takes a little effort, and you’re worth that effort. I knew it from the moment our eyes connected.” When doubt washed over her face, he added, “You’re also a consummate professional, and I respect that. So you went out on a limb tonight and fell off? I’m here to catch you, summer girl. Right here by your side. That’s what men and women who care about each other do. Why are you so afraid to keep letting me in?” When she tried to pull away, he slid his hand to the back of her neck, keeping her close. “Talk to me, Tiffany.”

  Something dark passed through her eyes. Hurt? Disappointment? Fear? He couldn’t tell.

  “You see what you want to see,” she said a little stronger, but not as angrily as she’d been only moments earlier.

  “Maybe you’re right. Or maybe I see the person you’re trying to hide, perhaps even from yourself.”

  Her gasp was slight, but he heard it loud and clear. This was his strong suit, helping people through difficult situations. But Tiffany wasn’t needy or broken. She was strong willed and determined and protective of her emotions in a way he knew all too well, because he’d seen it firsthand in every member of his family. It was obvious to him now that someone had hurt her very deeply, and the realization made his blood boil.

  When she squared her shoulders, something he’d
noticed her doing whenever she needed to gain the upper hand, the air between them settled to a simmer instead of molten lava. She gripped his shirt tighter, only he didn’t think it was because she didn’t want him to move away. He sensed it was another effort to regain control. She was finding her footing, her comfort zone.

  “I’m really good at my job,” she said. “I can seal a deal with my eyes closed.”

  “So I’ve heard.” He assumed this was going somewhere, so he played along, although he wasn’t sure if this was going to be a breakup lecture or something else. Whatever it was, she was doing an impressive job of ignoring the vibrating phone in her pocket, which hadn’t stopped buzzing for more than a few minutes. That alone told him that wherever she was going with this was acutely important.

  “Deals are black-and-white. There’s trust involved, between me and my clients, and the GMs, and of course the sponsors. The underlying reasons for any manipulations are pretty easy to figure out. The GMs are trying to get a better deal, or to figure out what someone else is offering. The sponsors want more for less.” She paused, then looked around the hallway as if she had forgotten they were standing outside her apartment. “We don’t have to do this here. You have people waiting for you.”

  No way was he going anywhere. If this wasn’t a breakup, it couldn’t wait another second. And if this was a breakup, he needed to be here to thwart it.

  “Hell no. I want to hear what you have to say. Please, finish your thought.”

  She nodded, swallowing hard, her eyes serious, and still she held on to his shirt like she needed him close. Or maybe that was just his hope overriding everything else.

  “Relationships aren’t anything like business deals. They’re convoluted, and things are never what they seem. People lie, and they have hidden motives for everything, only by the time you realize it, you’ve already mentally planned half your wedding and you’re left feeling like a fool.” She spoke so fast, some of her words ran together.