Bad Boys After Dark Read online

  “Now, there’s an idea,” Grace said.

  Sophie glared at her. She needed a lifeline, not encouragement. It was hard enough resisting Brett when they were in the office, surrounded by reminders of why she shouldn’t be with him. Mick was an entertainment attorney, and more often than not he was cleaning up celebrities’ messes, playing damage control. Those situations served as bright red flags. Sophie didn’t need to play damage control with her own life or career because of one night with her boss’s brother. But here in the bar, where couples were practically having sex on the dance floor and too much alcohol was wreaking havoc with her ability to think rationally, she was having trouble holding on to the reasons she should deny her sinfully hot pursuer.

  They talked about the perfumery opening and made small talk. Just when Sophie thought she might be able to handle this night after all, Grace drained her drink and climbed from the booth, thumbing something into her phone.

  Panic fluttered in Sophie’s chest. “Where are you going?”

  “I have to work in the morning, remember?” Grace dropped her phone into her purse and said, “I’ve got an Uber. You two kids have fun. I’ll see you Sunday morning at the gym, Sophie.”

  “Wait—” I cannot be trusted alone in a bar with Brett. Even though she had never been alone in a bar with Brett, she somehow knew that about herself. She’d been careful about where and when she was with him since the first time they’d met, because she’d been that attracted to him, and lately her thoughts about him had become relentless. It had never been a problem before Mick and Amanda had gotten married. But Sophie was good friends with Amanda, who worked as a paralegal in their office, and what had once been girls’ nights out had become get-togethers with a mix of friends, the Bads, and Sophie.

  That was the problem.

  If she wanted to stop thinking about Brett, she had to stop hanging out with her friends. The truth was, she didn’t want to do either.

  “I’ll walk Grace out and make sure she gets into her car safely. Be right back.” Brett started to slide out of the booth, but Grace stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m perfectly capable of leaving a bar, but I’m not sure Sophie is safe alone in here. Look at all the guys checking her out.” Grace winked at Sophie and headed for the door.

  Sophie was going to kill her. She wasn’t used to having more than a drink or two, and between the champagne at the grand opening and the drinks she’d had at the bar, she was definitely buzzed.

  Brett’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed the people around them. Sophie couldn’t help but laugh. Like anyone’s looking at me? She glanced around them and noticed the blonde Brett had been talking to at the bar was looking at her.

  “I think blondie is waiting for your date.” She tried to scoot out of the booth, but Brett wasn’t budging.

  His brows slanted angrily. “What blonde?”

  “The one at the bar. Don’t even try to pretend you didn’t see her. She’s giving me the stink eye.”

  He glanced over his shoulder and scoffed. “She hit on me and I told her we were married.”

  “Married?” Yeah, right.

  He shrugged. “I told her I wasn’t interested, but she was pushy. So I pointed you out and said, ‘See that gorgeous woman in the gray dress?’” His tone turned serious. “She’s my wife, and there’s not a woman on earth who could make me cheat on her.’”

  Shivers ran down her spine. “You expect me to believe that a guy who is afraid of committing to second dates told a beautiful woman he was married?”

  “I don’t lie, Sophie. Ever.” His lips tipped up in an insanely sexy smile, as if he were proud of that fact.

  “Um, you just did. To the blonde.”

  “Christ,” he muttered. “That doesn’t count. Some women don’t know how to take no for an answer.”

  She laughed softly. “I know a guy like that.”

  “I would never make a woman do anything she didn’t want to.”

  She leaned back with a deadpan stare.

  He chuckled. “Sophie, you want to be here with me. You just don’t want to admit it.” He didn’t give her time to respond, which was good, because she was pretty sure the response “so” wouldn’t have driven home the point she was trying to make. “How many times have I gotten you alone?”

  “None. But we’re not alone now.” She waved her hand toward the dance floor. “There are dozens of people around us.”

  He draped his arm around her shoulder, drawing her to him. “I only see you, Sophie. Let’s stop playing these games. You know I want you.”

  Gulp. “You’ve made that pretty obvious.”

  “And I know you want a piece of me.”

  “A piece?” She laughed softly. “That’s about all any girl gets of you. I’m not a piece girl.”

  Brett’s expression turned serious, as if he was thinking about what she’d said. He stepped from the booth and offered her his hand.

  “What are you doing?” she asked skeptically as he lifted her to her feet.

  “We are dancing.”

  He gathered her in his arms right there beside the booth, which was across the room from the dance floor. She was vaguely aware of a few curious glances, but Brett was gazing into her eyes, his dark eyes as compelling as summer lightning. His hand covered the expanse of her back, so hot it felt like he was branding her through her dress. She’d never danced with him, had never embraced him before. As she put her arms around his neck, he felt broader and stronger than he looked. Even in her tipsy state, she was acutely aware of every place their bodies touched. His hand slipped to the curve at the base of her spine, and she knew she should stop him, draw a much-needed boundary line, but she didn’t want to. Just this once she allowed herself to enjoy the feel of his hard frame pressing into her.

  “This is a piece of me other women don’t get,” he said in a voice full of sensual promise.

  “Then why me?”

  “Because you’ve gotten under my skin, Sophie. I think it’s time we explore whatever this is between us.”

  “It’s…nothing.” The lie tasted horrible, but she couldn’t say lust.

  His hand moved up her back, holding her tighter. His heart thundered against her chest, and she felt the unmistakable hardness of his arousal.

  “Feel that?” His eyes brimmed with passion. “That’s not nothing.”

  She was sure he was talking about his erection and not his erratic heartbeat. After all, she reminded herself, sex is all he thinks about. Even with that reminder, as their bodies moved in perfect sync, she couldn’t escape the desire mounting inside her. She’d never seen Brett dance before. Not one single time at any of his brothers’ weddings or at clubs when they were all out for a drink. He was a large man, with bulging muscles akin to a bodybuilder’s, but despite his size he was an enticing mix of fluid grace and power. She found herself wondering if that grace and power would carry into the bedroom. When his hand slid lower, cupping her ass, and he pushed his other hand into her hair, she closed her eyes, allowing herself to soak him in. The sting of her scalp and the heat of his hand on her bottom crashed through her like a tornado, and her eyes flew open, meeting his hungry stare.

  “Tell me you want me, Sophie.”

  Don’t do it. Do not admit it.

  She opened her mouth to speak, and he dipped his head, his lips hovering just above hers. His warm breath sank into her mouth, stealing her ability to speak.

  “Tell me to kiss you,” he said so firmly it bordered on a demand, but there was also something tethered about it, smooth and seductive.

  Dangerously alluring.

  She swallowed hard, breathed even harder, as Grace’s words came back to her. Careful, sweetheart, your interest is showing.

  “I’d better go,” she finally managed.

  “No, babe, don’t run away. Not this time.” His eyes bored into her. “Dance with me. We don’t have to do anything more. Just be with me, alone.”

  He gathered her
closer, and she rested her cheek on his chest, trying to calm her racing heart at the emotions she’d seen in his eyes. Maybe she was imagining it, but she swore beneath the storm, beneath all that heat, there was more. He might be made of hot steel and desire, but he was also a caring brother who made the time for family, who babysat for Carson and Tawny’s little girl. He was the guy who offered to walk Grace outside and had often walked Sophie to a cab so no harm would come to her. It was that man she kept getting glimpses of, and as they danced late into the night, those glimpses stacked up like steps. What would she find at the top? A locked door keeping the world at bay? Or would it be ajar, just waiting for the right person to slip through?

  They danced with few words passing between them, and those wordless hours moved by too quickly. She was enjoying this quiet part of him that she’d never been privy to. Has anyone?

  When Brett stopped dancing she realized she hadn’t noticed the bar clearing out. Whoa, she’d been completely lost in him.

  He reached for his jacket and her clutch. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

  When they hit the street, the cool night air brought a dose of reality. Brett put his jacket over her shoulders as they headed in the direction of her apartment building.

  “Thank you,” she said, wondering when he’d become a gentleman.

  He flashed a smile, uncharacteristically quiet as they walked along the busy sidewalk.

  “You’re a good dancer,” she said to try to quell her nerves. She was letting Brett walk her home, and she knew that sent a signal, but she felt things changing between them, like she was getting another glimpse of a side of him not many got to see.

  “I’m good at a lot of things.” He flashed a cocky grin.

  “And here I was thinking that you’d turned into a gentleman.”

  “I can be anything you want, Sophie.”

  His smile softened, and she found herself wanting to believe him.

  “Tell me, Sexy Sophie, what do you want? What do you dream about late at night?” he asked carefully, not aggressively, which took her by surprise. “And don’t tell me Kurt Remington, because you’re far more interesting than that.”

  She mulled over his question as they turned down her street. “I dream about things that aren’t even on your radar screen,” she said honestly.

  “You might be surprised.” He thanked the doorman, putting a hand at her back as they crossed the lobby. As they waited for the elevator, he said, “My radar is set to pick up lots of different stimuli.”

  When the elevator arrived, they stepped inside, and she hit the button for her floor. His gaze raked boldly over her, and her traitorous heart thumped harder. As the elevator climbed slowly to her floor, he swept his arm around her waist, drawing her closer.

  “Seriously,” he said as he gazed into her eyes. “I want to know. Do you ever dream of me? Do you wonder what it would be like to kiss me?”

  Yes. She turned her face away, and her hair fell over her eye. Brett tucked it behind her ear, and with his fingers at her chin, he gently guided her face back toward him, until she had no choice but to see him. A long, silent moment stretched between them, anticipation building inside her. He was so handsome, gazing at her with a thoughtful, and also somehow seductive, expression.

  “I dream about you, Sophie,” he said just above a whisper. “I dream about your smile.” He touched her cheek, his expression softening. “And the way it lights up your eyes. I dream about the way you lick your lips and how much I want to feel your mouth on me.”

  Every sentence brought a thrum of heat. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. She felt herself breathing harder, wanting him to kiss her. Wanting to fulfill both of their fantasies, and finally get her mouth on him, too.

  The elevator doors opened, and for a moment neither one moved.

  Kiss me.

  His brows twitched, a strange expression filling his eyes. He stepped aside, slid his hand to her lower back, and they stepped into the hallway. She kept her eyes trained on the carpet, trying to wrap her head around what just happened, and fished out her keys from her purse.

  He took the keys from her hand and unlocked the door, opening it just a crack before handing them back to her. Their eyes locked, the air between them sizzled, and when he leaned in, she closed her eyes, preparing for a kiss.

  His lips touched her cheek, and he said, “Sleep well, Sexy Sophie. Thanks for an unforgettable night.”

  Chapter Two

  FOR THE FIRST time in as long as Brett could remember, Saturday sucked. Carson and Dylan both blew him off for their morning run, so he pushed through six miles on his own. Usually that was no big deal, but without his brothers to distract him, he was stuck listening to his own thoughts, which all revolved around Sophie. He’d finally broken through her barriers, finally had her in his arms, and he’d seen—felt—her resolve to keep her distance withering away. He’d gotten so lost in her, the restlessness that had been his constant companion since he was a kid had lifted. He had it all within his grasp—one night with Sophie—and he’d blown it. He’d relived those last moments at her door a thousand times as he’d pounded out a grueling two-hour workout following his run, and he’d given himself shit for not taking the kiss he’d been dying for. The gleam of interest in her eyes had never wavered, but something strange had lodged in his chest when he stood at her door and she blinked up at him with her trusting blue eyes. Or maybe it was in his head. He couldn’t be sure, because it felt a hell of a lot like it had taken up residence in both areas. Whatever it was had kept him from pushing her toward what he knew they both wanted, and he’d spent all damn day trying to figure out why.

  Now, as the evening rolled in, he sat at the bar in NightCaps, and the irritation still clung to him like a second skin.

  A host of beautiful women slinked around the bar, fluttering their lashes and thrusting out their assets, some probably hoping for free drinks, others hoping for a hookup, while still others, like the redhead at the end of the bar sizing up all the guys in suits, were probably hoping for a diamond ring. Not one woman piqued his interest.

  How could they when Sophie has imprinted herself in my fucking mind?

  If he didn’t get Sophie out of his head he was going to lose his shit. He took a long pull of his beer, then rubbed his hand against his thigh, trying to forget the lingering feel of Sophie’s softness against it.

  “You look like hell,” Dylan said as he pushed a beer across the bar. “Tiffany said she saw you leave with Sophie last night. Did you two finally get together?”

  “We had a good time,” he answered vaguely.

  “Seriously? I guess I just lost ten bucks.” Dylan wiped down the bar with a concerned look on his face.

  “Who’d you bet? Carson?”

  “No, Tiff. She was sure you’d sway Sophie to the sinful side. My money was on Sophie. I can’t believe she finally gave in to you. I guess I’m happy for you, because you’ve been trying to get with her for so long, but don’t hurt her, man. She’s Mick’s assistant, and neither he nor Sophie need trouble.”

  “Fuck, Dyl. I’m not a dick.” A stab of guilt sliced through him. Whether that guilt was caused by Dylan believing they’d hooked up when they hadn’t, or because Dylan knew that when it came to women, Brett was a once-and-done type of guy, he didn’t know or care. The guilt lodged in his chest, digging deeper with every thought of her.

  Dylan cocked a brow.

  “Okay, I can be a dick, but I wasn’t. Sophie and I had a good time, but we didn’t hook up.”

  “That’s probably a good thing, considering you’re working in Mick’s office Monday,” Dylan reminded him. There had been a rash of hacks into celebrity cell phones and computers, including two of Mick’s clients. Even though Brett and Carson’s company, Elite Security, had ensured Mick’s proprietary data was locked down tighter than Fort Knox and none of Mick’s files had been hacked, they were testing the systems just to be sure.

  “I wouldn’t call it a �
�good thing,’ but whatever.” He didn’t want to think about seeing Sophie dressed in tight skirts and low-cut blouses. He’d been drawn to her incredible figure since the first time he’d set his eyes on her, but it was her intelligence and quick wit that had kept his interest. Sophie had it all—brains, beauty, humor, and those insightful, sexy blue eyes that stuck with him long after she turned him down. Or I walked away. Goddamn fool.

  Dylan went to tend to a customer and Brett pulled out his phone, debating sending Sophie a text. They’d long ago exchanged numbers, but he’d always held back from using hers. It was one thing to tempt her when the opportunity arose in person, but he knew himself well enough to realize that once he opened the door to twenty-four-hour access, he’d have a hard time holding back until he got what he wanted.

  Fuck it. He was done pissing and moaning about not taking his chance when he’d had it. He wasn’t a sit-around-and-wait type of guy. He was ready to play with fire. As he typed a text to Sophie—Miss me yet?—he told himself it was to get her out of his system once and for all.

  He took another swig of his beer, and his phone vibrated. His heart leapt at the sight of Sophie’s name on the screen. He couldn’t open and read the message fast enough. I’m surrounded by a bunch of stuffy people at a wine tasting. Even your come-ons would be better than this.

  As he conjured a host of dirty responses, a vision of Sophie as they’d said good night floated into his mind. He clenched his teeth against the squirrely feeling in his gut and typed, I’ve got a bottle of red from France with your name on it.

  Her response was immediate. Did you have to erase someone else’s name to write mine in?

  He hated the sting that accompanied her jibe. Before he could type a response, “Thrive!” rang through the bar. The cheer pulled Brett’s attention from his thoughts. He spotted his buddy Dex Remington, founder of Thrive Entertainment, one of the country’s leading PC game design firms, moving through the crowd. Dex waved to the people in the back of the bar who had called out the cheer. It was how his employees had greeted him since they began hanging out there.