Bad Boys After Dark: Mick Page 7

  With Mick.

  No, no, no!

  Yes, yes, yes!

  She pushed at his chest, and he groaned as he pried his mouth from her.

  “Did The Handbook advise you to push a guy away when he kisses you? If so, that book has to go.”

  “Mick! We said one night and we’d never speak of it again. I ruined everything. I didn’t even try to seduce you beyond the whole, well, you know, what we did on the steps. You didn’t get to critique my seduction skills, and now I’m left comparing every man out there to you, which believe me, will suck for me and them. Not to mention that I’m in no better shape than I was before last night. I still have no idea if I’m doing things right, and I’m sore in places I never knew could get sore.” She realized she was rambling and clamped her big mouth shut.

  His brows knitted. “You’re right.”

  “I know.” She didn’t know what she’d been hoping for, but disappointment skated in, and she smacked the mattress. “I’m sorry. I suck.”

  “I do like the way you suck.” His wicked grin was back.

  She loved that wicked grin.

  Ugh! He was totally messing with her! She swatted his arm. “Stop it. No more talking about what we did. Now get up.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No. I can’t let you go out in the world doing what some stupid book advises. That would be irresponsible of me. You need to be properly schooled in all things seductive. What choice do we have but to spend the weekend together?”

  “Mick.” Weekend? Is he nuts? He seemed as shocked by his idea as she was. Or maybe that was cockiness; she couldn’t be sure.

  “I’m serious. I have a reputation to uphold. If you go out and tell even one person that I didn’t live up to my promise, all hell might break loose.”

  “I’m never speaking of this. Not even to Ally.” Oh God, Ally! She’d probably texted a hundred times to make sure Amanda was still alive. Mick looked at her sideways, and she knew he was wondering if she could really keep something like this from her sister. He knew how close they were, and Ally was living with, and engaged to, his childhood friend Heath Wild.

  “Obviously we won’t speak of our Adventure Sex Weekend,” he said casually. “That would also be irresponsible.”

  “Wait, what? Adventure Sex Weekend?”

  “It’s the only way. We’ve already crossed a line we can’t uncross.” His tone turned serious. “Let’s do this right. You’ll spend the whole weekend seducing me, of course.”

  He was right about crossing the line. Holy cow. Am I really considering this?

  “You sound like you’re talking about a client meeting.”

  “It’s an arrangement of sorts,” he said. “An agreement. A weekend of seduction, no regrets afterward, and for God’s sake, no resignations, either.”

  “Mick, how am I going to look at you in the office?”

  He brushed a lock of hair from her shoulder and pressed a kiss there. “The same way you always have.” He held her gaze, steady, dark. Seductive. “You want this, Amanda. One weekend. No strings. And no one has to know.”

  She felt herself not only considering a weekend with Mick, but giving in to the quickening of her pulse and the ache between her legs. All her best parts were pulling for Mick’s plan, but her conservative, careful side thought this was a bad idea.

  He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, sending ripples of anticipation through her. I’m already in too deep.

  “I think we should start right now,” he whispered. “Come on, freckles. You want this.”

  God help her, she did. So very badly.

  He rolled onto his back and linked his hands behind his head. The sheets bunched beside him, every hard muscle and his perfect, eager penis on display. How could she deny herself this pleasure? She’d have to be blind and deaf, and even that wouldn’t be enough, because she knew how he felt, how he tasted.

  He ran his finger along her jaw. “You want this, baby.”

  Baby.

  She’d have to wipe her senses clean. Erase every memory.

  Right after the weekend.

  Chapter Six

  “IT’S ME. I’M sorry I didn’t answer your calls, but I’m fine.” Amanda pulled her cell phone away from her ear as Ally reamed her out for not responding to her messages last night. She had twenty minutes before Mick was picking her up. She still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to a weekend of sex and seduction. Who did she think she was? Marilyn Monroe?

  “Seriously. I was up all night, and if it weren’t for Heath, I’d have called the cops. You owe him big-time.” Ally huffed out a frustrated breath. “I swear, Mandy, when I see you, I’m going to kick your ass.”

  “I know,” she said, glancing in the mirror as Ally told her again how irresponsible she’d been. But it had been worth it. She’d had the most amazing, if not confusing, night. And this morning had been equally incredible. After she and Mick had devoured each other, she’d come home to shower and pack. It was September, and it was supposed to be a breezy seventy degrees this weekend. With that and seduction in mind, she’d spent forever choosing today’s outfit: a pair of high-heeled, fringed beige boots, a short brown skirt, and a white button-down blouse, unbuttoned all the way down to her front-clasping bra, which she was still feeling uncomfortable about—the cleavage, not the bra.

  “I’m sorry, Al. I really am. But I need your help.” Mick was used to being seduced by rich, beautiful women. She hoped she wouldn’t disappoint him, and more importantly, the following thoughts had become her new mantra. This isn’t real. It’s a weekend arrangement. A business agreement. Nothing more.

  “Oh God. See?” Ally said. “You’re not fine. What happened? Who were you with? I’ll come over right now.”

  She pictured her sister gathering her purse and keys. “No! Don’t come over. I’m leaving soon, and I can’t tell you who I was with anyway. But you know him, and I’m safe with him.”

  “Amanda, what is going on? Where do I know him from?”

  Amanda pulled open her underwear drawer, trying to ignore the demand in Ally’s voice. Remembering Mick’s affinity for black lace, she sifted through her cotton panties for her new black lace thongs and matching bras and tossed them on the bed.

  “I’m spending the weekend—” Seducing my boss. She froze. This is not smart.

  “With…?” Ally prompted, pulling Amanda from her thoughts.

  Just this once she didn’t want to be the smart, careful sister. “With the guy from the bar crawl.”

  “Mandy, this is not okay. Tell me who he is.”

  “I can’t. But I do need your help. What would you wear for a weekend where your sole purpose is seducing a man? I know I need a sexy dress or two. Do you think I can wear jeans, too? Or is that too—”

  “Amanda! If you don’t spill your guts right this second, I swear I’ll handcuff you to something in my apartment and you won’t be able to leave.”

  Handcuffs. Hm. She wondered if Mick was into that. Am I? Could I be? She wanted to tell Ally what she’d done. Ally always told her everything—everything except what I needed to know about this particular subject. No, Amanda decided. She wasn’t going to break the promise of secrecy she’d made to Mick.

  “It’s not a huge deal.” It was bigger than huge, but she didn’t need to admit that to her already worried sister. “I just agreed to spend the weekend with him.” She picked out two cute dresses and tossed them on the bed.

  “You said I know him. From where?”

  “You just do. I’m not telling you, so…”

  “Amanda, do I have to worry? Or are you really okay? He’s already asked you to spend the weekend together, so obviously you don’t need my advice on seducing him.” Ally gasped. “Oh no. He’s not married is he? Because you can’t put yourself in that position.”

  “No! He’s not married. It’s complicated. He’s a business associate. I’m really okay, Al. You don’t have to worry. I promise.” That last li
ttle fib left a sour taste in her mouth. Amanda wasn’t okay. She was worried. Not for her safety, but for her heart. She had no idea how she’d face Mick at work and act like nothing had happened between them. She’d only been half kidding about resigning, but that was true regardless of whether they spent this weekend together or not. They’d already blown way past all the lines that would make remaining at the firm easy or appropriate, despite his demand of no resignations.

  “Ally?” Amanda moved quickly, aware she had only a few minutes left to pack and pull herself together. She chose a casual outfit, shoes, nighties—nighties? The man was a sex machine. She doubted she’d get much wear out of any of her clothes.

  “I’m here.”

  Amanda gathered her toiletries and stuffed them into a bag. “I’m not trying to shut you out. It really is complicated. Meet me Monday night at the Kiss?”

  Ally sighed. “I didn’t know you still went there.”

  The Kiss was an artsy bar in the Village. Every Monday night they held romance readings where aspiring writers read romantic passages they’d written. Amanda and Ally had stumbled upon it together before Ally met Heath, and Amanda continued to go every Monday night.

  A knock on her door sent her heart racing. “He’s here. I have to go. Meet me there? At the Kiss? At seven?”

  “Okay. Be safe. I’m going to text you tonight and tomorrow, and if you don’t respond by midnight, I will call the police.”

  “Okay! Love you.” She ended the call and zipped up her bags, wondering if she was taking too much and if she’d chosen the right clothes. Spotting her perfume on the dresser, she shoved that into her bag. Another knock brought self-doubt. She hurried out of her bedroom and stopped at the front door.

  I can’t do this.

  Yes, you can.

  Her eyes darted around her tiny apartment. She’d loved the cozy space from the moment she’d walked in the first time, despite its size. And Mick, who owned a three-story apartment, was about to see it. Maybe she should tell him she was sick.

  Her cell phone vibrated on the table by the door. She grabbed it, prepared to tell Ally she was really fine, despite World War Mick raging in her head. The sight of Mick’s name on the screen made her stomach flutter. She opened and read the text.

  Seduction rule #1. You must be in the same room with the person you’re trying to seduce.

  She smiled and looked out the peephole in the door, but he was looking down and all she saw was his dark hair. A second later her phone vibrated with another text.

  You want this, Amanda. Open the door.

  She did. She wanted this. She wanted him, any way she could have him.

  Without giving herself a chance to second-guess her decision, she opened the door, sighing way too dreamily at the sight of him in low-slung jeans. A pair of mirrored sunglasses hung from the collar of his gray T-shirt, which hugged his chest and shoulders, the fabric visibly straining over his biceps. He hadn’t shaved, and his hair was finger combed, sexy and tousled. She was so used to seeing him in expensive suits, he looked like a different man altogether. Dangerous. Edgy. Sinful.

  His eyes raked over her ever so slowly, as if he didn’t want to miss a thing, making her feel vulnerable and excited all at once. They dropped from her breasts to her thighs, lingering there so long she shivered with the memory of his face buried between them last night. How was she going to make it through a weekend of seducing the man who made it hard for her to remember her name?

  **

  “HEY THERE, GORGEOUS.” Mick stepped forward and kissed Amanda’s cheek, because if he went for her lips, he wasn’t going to stop there. She looked like a sex kitten in her short, tight skirt with her wide-eyed innocence in full play. He had no idea how he was going to hold his shit together for the next few hours, much less all weekend.

  “Hi.” She tugged on the hem of her skirt, staring at him like she had last night, with wonder and heat.

  He waited for her to say more, knowing he needed to relinquish control and allow her room to seduce, given their agreement, but suppressing his urge to take control was killing him. Especially since she seemed to be as lost in him at the moment as he was in her. And damn, he liked that a whole hell of a lot.

  He slid a hand along her waist and whispered, “You should probably invite me in so we can get your stuff.”

  “Oh! Right, sorry. Come in.” She stepped aside and closed the door behind him.

  Mick took in the classic yet elegant feel of her cozy apartment, which suited Amanda perfectly. A white sofa and love seat created a nook by the windows, backing to pale blue walls trimmed in white. On the far wall, two white bookshelves held a myriad of legal books, romance novels, and other literary works, interspersed with photographs of Amanda and her family. He briefly wondered if she’d told Ally about last night or this weekend.

  Amanda pointed down the hallway to his right. “I’ll get my bags.”

  Keeping hold of her waist, he said, “Seduction, remember?”

  Her brow wrinkled in confusion.

  “Men like to feel needed.”

  “Oh. Um...”

  “You might ask me to carry your bags because they’re too heavy.”

  “But they’re not that—” Her mouth gaped, and an adorable blush bloomed on her cheeks. She stepped closer, her eyes widening with feigned innocence. “Um, Mick?” She ran her finger down the center of his chest, sending heat further south. “Would you mind helping me with my bags? They’re a little heavy.” She licked her lips, and just like that, he got hard, remembering her lips wrapped around his cock last night. “They’re in the bedroom.”

  “Christ,” he muttered. “We may never leave your apartment.”

  “Oh no. I’m that bad?”

  He tightened his hold on her and rocked his arousal against her so she could feel the effect she had on him. “No, baby. You’re that good.”

  This weekend was a dangerous idea, but last night hadn’t been enough. Spooning her hadn’t been enough. Waking up with her in his arms hadn’t been enough. This weekend had to be enough. She’d learn what she needed to meet the type of men she wanted—a thought that twisted him into knots—he’d convince her she didn’t need to resign, and come Monday, they’d have had their fill of each other and be capable of moving on.

  Yeah, and pigs fly.

  What other choice did he have? He wasn’t about to throw himself into a relationship, which is exactly what she deserved, only not with a guy like him. He was too cynical. He would spend every day waiting for the shoe to drop. This was the only way. Get his fill, get her out of his system, and go back to the way things were.

  With that in mind, he told himself not to linger in her bedroom, but the minute he stepped beyond the threshold, he was sucked into her world. White sheers hung from an iron canopy above the bed. Pale pink curtains framed two windows. Between them was a dressing table, the old-fashioned kind he’d seen in movies, draped in lace, with a vase of fresh flowers sitting on top. Another bouquet of flowers sat atop a dresser by the closet. The room smelled like a meadow after a light rain. On the bedside table were candles and more romance novels. He reluctantly glanced at the burnt wicks and couldn’t help but wonder what lucky bastard had been in her bed. His gut fisted with the thought. This was a side of her she might never have revealed. Although he knew she was a sucker for romance, he never imagined it went this deep. Her bedroom conflicted sharply with the skills she was trying to hone, and he fought the urge to tell her she didn’t need to do this. Not with him, or for any man. But that wasn’t his place. He’d already put himself in enough of a conundrum.

  Picking up her bag, he turned and found her fidgeting with her skirt again and was struck anew by the conflicting messages. He had no idea why knowing she was a romantic at heart bothered him so much, but it did. The thought of some unworthy man—or men—touching her had always bothered him, but now it made his blood boil. What on earth had made him think he would be okay with teaching Amanda how to seduce other men?


  “You like romance,” he said sharply. He was pissed at himself, because while he had the means and the desire to give her anything and everything she wanted, he was a prisoner of his past and of his mind—too smart to believe in the happily-ever-after fantasy she craved.

  She smiled. “Don’t all women?”

  “Maybe.” But I don’t give a shit about them. “But they don’t all deserve to find it.”

  A few minutes later they were heading out of the city in his Aston Martin One-77. Amanda looked out the window. Her hair had caught on her shoulder, giving him a glimpse of the freckles below her ear. He wanted to lean over and kiss them. He wondered about his fascination with her freckles, chalking it up to being no different from knowing the way she liked her coffee, or that she licked her lips when she was nervous. They were intimate glimpses into the woman he’d been falling for—and trying not to. If he were honest with himself, he’d admit that his mind had become a web, collecting pieces of Amanda he never wanted to forget. But that kind of honesty took introspection, and introspection brought back the past.

  No, thank you.

  “Tell me about The Handbook,” he said to distract himself as he pulled onto the highway. “I need to know what I have to help you unlearn.”

  “It’s too embarrassing,” she said, still looking out the window.

  “Even after last night?” He reached for her hand in an effort to ease her nerves—and to soothe his need to be closer to her.

  She turned, the determined set of her jaw a smoke screen for the uncertainty in her eyes. She wasn’t cut out for the world of one-night stands and meaningless seductions. He added another item to her weekend lessons—convincing her that learning to seduce was one thing, but she didn’t need to take it further than making a future date. One-night stands were off-limits.

  “Baby.” As soon as the endearment slipped out, he knew he had to rein it back in. He didn’t use endearments with women. Then again, he didn’t take women to his apartment—or his home in Sweetwater, New York, where they were headed now.