Bad Boys After Dark: Mick

by Melissa Foster

  “Fuck,” he hissed. “That’s good, baby, so good.”

  The compliment gave her the courage she needed to lower her mouth over his shaft and take him in deep, withdrawing slowly, letting her mouth acclimate to his girth and length. Her hand followed her mouth in tight strokes up and down his cock, ending each with a swirl of her tongue along the tip. She felt him swell impossibly thicker and knew he was close. She wanted to taste him, to know she’d given him as much pleasure as he’d given her. He sat up, tangled his hands in her hair, and guided her at a faster pace. She sucked harder, squeezed his cock tighter, shocked by her own eagerness to make him come in her mouth. Suddenly he tugged her head back and crashed his mouth over hers, kissing her hard. So fucking hard she felt it between her legs. But this was her turn. Her seduction, and she wasn’t done.

  She tore her mouth away, and confusion filled his eyes. She wasn’t about to back down. He’d taken what he wanted—not that she was complaining—and she wanted the same. She wanted to take. “I want this.”

  “Baby, you don’t have to go all the way. It’s okay. I’ll come later.”

  “I…” The tenderness and heat in his eyes drew the embarrassing truth. “I’ve never let a guy…I’ve never...” Panic spread through her with the thought of leaving and not having done this with him, because after Mick…? She was so busy telling herself not to go there, she couldn’t even think about after him.

  “I know we only have tonight,” she assured him. “And we both might regret it tomorrow, but I want to do this, and I want to do it with you.”

  “I’ll never regret tonight. We said no regrets.” He touched her cheek, and she leaned in to it, soaking him in.

  “I know. No regrets.” Except that it is only one night. How can I not regret that?

  He closed his eyes for a beat, and when he opened them his expression was warm and tender and hot and hungry at once. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  He searched her eyes with a soulful expression. She wondered if he saw the emotions she was trying to hold back, or if her nerves shadowed everything else. She didn’t really want to know the answer, and pressed her lips to his to snap out of the thought, then lowered her mouth to him again. He held her hair back but didn’t guide her this time. She began as she had before, teasing, slicking her tongue along his hard length, licking his sac, fondling and stroking as she took him in deep. He smelled musky and safe, and for this one night, he smelled like he was hers.

  “You feel so good, baby. So fucking good.”

  She moved faster, took him deeper. The head of his cock banged against the back of her throat, and she remembered what she’d read about relaxing her throat. She tried, but her mouth was stretched so wide it was hard to concentrate and still keep her rhythm. The hell with thinking. She let her desires guide her, and guide her they did. She worked him with her hands and mouth, and he groaned and rocked and made noises that made her ache for his touch. As if he’d read her mind, he leaned forward, slightly to the side, giving her space to continue her pursuit of his pleasure, and ran his hand down her ribs and between her legs. She moaned around his cock.

  “Christ, that felt good,” he said in a gravelly voice.

  She moaned again, and his hips bucked. She rode his hand in time to each stroke of his cock as he teased her magical spot. She sucked harder, moaning with pleasure against his erection as his fingers pushed into her and a torrent of pleasure consumed her. His cock swelled, his muscles flexed, and hot jets of salty come pulsed down her throat. She struggled to breathe, gulping down his release as storms of heat tore through her, scorched her limbs, pulling at her core, engulfing her very being with the same dark possession as Mick owned her heart.

  Chapter Five

  AMANDA SAT TWO steps below Mick with her cheek resting on his thigh, eyes closed, her lips slick with his essence. She’d sucked his cock like she owned it, given him a mind-numbing orgasm while in the throes of her own, and she was completely and utterly fucking with his head. They still hadn’t consummated their night of sex, and he felt the emotional doors he’d welded closed rattling at the hinges.

  He lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest and trying to ignore the way his insides softened with her sigh of surrender as she snuggled against him.

  She reached up with a sated smile and touched his cheek. “Mm. Your beard comes in fast.”

  He didn’t respond because the more she spoke, the harder it was to remain emotionally distant. He was fucked and there was only one way to get unfucked—with an icy exterior. But he’d tried that before they’d moved to the stairs, and all it had taken was a flash of her doe eyes and a single word in her breathless voice to dial him right back up to an emotionally possessed inferno.

  He carried her upstairs and stopped at the threshold of his bedroom. Why was he here again? Why hadn’t he taken her on the couch, where it would be easier to get her to leave afterward?

  Because I’m fucked.

  Determined not to be, he turned, intent on retreating to the first floor. The closer to the door the better.

  Amanda touched his cheek again, gazing up with eyes full of trust and something else he couldn’t read but felt in that dark place he was trying to ignore. Hell if he didn’t turn around and carry her to his bed.

  “Aren’t you tired?” she asked as he set her down.

  He laughed under his breath. “You have no idea how far I can take this.” Want to take this would have been more accurate.

  She glanced down at his erection and her eyes widened. “But you just…”

  “And we both will again.” He backed her up until the mattress hit the back of her knees, and they both went down laughing. He mentally added the sounds of her laughter to the list of things that chipped away at his steely resolve and laced their fingers together. Pinning them a little too roughly beside her head, he nudged her legs open wider with his knees, struggling to temper the feeling of fullness in his chest. He’d dreamed of seeing her lying beneath him so many times it should be easy to keep his emotions in check, but nothing compared to reality. Seeing her gorgeous face on his pillow, her eyes turned up to him with warmth and want, feeling her soft body conforming to his muscles. He’d found nirvana, and he never wanted to leave.

  He rocked his hips, pressing his cock against her wetness. “Damn.” His head fell forward. “Condom.”

  Amanda tightened her fingers between his, her beguiling eyes wreaking havoc with him. She absently licked her lips, tearing down another barrier he’d erected.

  “But you said you’re clean.”

  “I am.” He knew the minute he drove into her with nothing between them it would be that much harder to walk away. Another broken rule. Another line crossed.

  “Then.” She lifted her shoulder in a too-damn-adorable shrug.

  She was offering herself to him, and if he didn’t accept, would he spend the rest of his life regretting it?

  Damn it. Now he would.

  “Amanda, this isn’t going anywhere between us. You know that, right? I don’t do relationships.” No matter how badly I want to, and right now I want you never to walk out that door again.

  “I know, but it’s our one night,” she said so sweetly he got goose bumps. A spark of heat flared in her eyes. “Why not make the best of it?”

  “Fuck,” he mumbled.

  “Never mind.” The excitement in her eyes dimmed, slaying him anew. “I’m asking for more than what you offered. I’m sorry. I just…You’re right. It’s better this way.”

  “You didn’t ask for too much.” I did. The minute I offered to crack your conservative shell. “I haven’t had unprotected sex.” His next thought pissed him off, but he said it anyway. “Just promise me you’ll be careful with other guys. Seriously. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

  A flicker of something he couldn’t decipher passed through her eyes, and then she smiled like he’d just bought her diamonds. “I promise!”

  “Baby, y
ou’re killing me in the best possible way.”

  Mick took her in a greedy kiss as he thrust into her tight, hot center. They both moaned at the immense pleasure, and when he was buried to the hilt, they both stilled.

  “Mick. God, Mick. You feel so good. Too good. Oh my God. I didn’t expect…”

  “Shh, baby. Your voice. It drives me crazy.”

  “It does?” She blinked several times, a playful smile lifting her lips.

  “Christ,” he mumbled. “Yes, and you’re so tight I want to stay buried deep inside you all night.”

  “It’s been a long time,” she said softly.

  His heart squeezed with her confession. So trusting.

  She turned her eyes to their locked hands, then back to his face. “I want to touch you.”

  The desire in her voice slithered beneath his skin, and his walls came crashing down. He smothered her lips with demanding mastery, and their bodies moved with the urgency of long-lost lovers. Their skin grew slick with sweat as they thrust and slid, arched and groped. Sounds of their lovemaking filled the room, moans, pleas, and the harsh sounds of flesh on flesh. The air around them sizzled in the moon’s glow. Their kisses were deep and torturous. Mick reared up, angling his hips and thrusting deeper, gazing down at the beautiful woman beneath him.

  “Look at me, baby,” he said without a hint of command, too caught up in the moment to care that he’d lost his distance. He’d never forget this, the way she was looking at him, like she saw only him, wanted only him.

  He brought his mouth to her wrist and kissed her there, grinding his hips in slow circles, rubbing against all the sensitive places he’d discovered earlier.

  “Mick, that’s…That’s…”

  He wanted to touch her in ways she’d never been touched and craved the discovery of all of her erogenous zones. He dragged his tongue from her wrist to the tender skin at the crook of her elbow, lingering there as she began to tremble. He used his teeth, then his tongue again, and she moaned and arched. Her eyes slammed closed and she bowed off the bed. He lowered his mouth to her breast as the orgasm gripped her, and she cried out his name.

  “That’s it, baby. I’m going to hear that scream in my dreams.” He was on the verge of coming, but he wasn’t done. He wanted to—had to—see her riding him. In one easy move he gathered her in his arms and rolled to his back, never breaking their connection. She was like a goddess, with the moonlight at her back and her hair curtaining her gorgeous face.

  She pinned his hands beside his head with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “I think I might like this.”

  “You’ve never…?”

  She shook her head. The pleasure he took from racking up all these firsts was sinful.

  “Ride me, baby.”

  And she did. Hard. Fast. Slow. Maddeningly slow. Then fast again, taking him right up to the edge. He sat up, guided her legs around his waist, and claimed her in another deep, possessive kiss.

  “Your mouth,” he said between kisses. “How will I ever get enough of your mouth?”

  Her head fell back and her fingers dug into his biceps as she came. He sealed his mouth over her neck, sucking as her sex pulsed around his cock. He wanted to take her from behind, against the wall, in the shower, in the ass. His mind was spinning tales of what could never be. He shifted her onto her back, taking her in another rough kiss. In a futile attempt to fuck the thoughts out of his head, he pounded into her, holding her so tight not even air could fit between them. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling that what they were doing was definitely not just fucking.

  “Mick. I’m gonna…again. Oh G—”

  He buried his face in the crook of her neck and surrendered to his own explosive release. He came, and came, and came, until he had nothing left to give. And then he held her for a long, long time, a full-on war raging in his head. He listened to the cadence of her breathing, felt her heartbeat calm, and reveled in the feel of her going soft in his arms again.

  “I should leave,” she whispered. “The book says never to sta...” Her voice trailed off.

  “Book?” His question fell on deaf ears. She’d already succumbed to the numbed sleep of a satiated lover.

  This is when I should show you the front door. He pulled her in closer, despite knowing he shouldn’t. Get up. He closed his eyes against his conscience. He didn’t understand what was going on in his mind. He didn’t do sleepovers, and he sure as hell shouldn’t do one with the woman who had already mind-fucked him so badly she was in his bed. And then it dawned on him. This was their only night, and his greedy body wanted more. This wasn’t going to be over until he knew the pleasure of spooning her. A few minutes of feeling her sweet body safe and warm against him and he’d be ready to call her a cab, call it a night, and move on from the most exquisite night of his life.

  He shifted positions, holding her right where he wanted her, and she nuzzled in. Their bodies fit so perfectly together it was like they were made for each other. This was what he needed. She sighed in her sleep, her fingers curled around his, and just for a minute, he closed his eyes.

  **

  AMANDA AWOKE TO the feel of something hard against her backside and a very male, very muscular body encircling her. Ohmygod. I never left. Her eyes darted around the room. She’d slept in Mick’s bed. She’d slept with Mick. She’d fucked Mick. Her boss. Her mystery man. Her fantasy. She couldn’t even blame it on being drunk. She was just stupid. Flat-out stupid. And now he was going to wake up and remember her—sucking his dick. She slammed her eyes shut to escape that image, and their night of debauchery came back in full detail: her pleas, her screams, his dirty promises, his mouth, his touch. God, your mouth. He should patent his mouth. Now she was hot and bothered again! How did he do that? He wasn’t even awake! She had to get out of there. But if she moved, he'd wake up. Where were her clothes? Downstairs. By the bar. He’d done incredible things to her on that bar. He’d had his finger in her ass on that bar. She cringed.

  This sucked.

  She sucked.

  Yes, I did. Well, that part didn't suck at all.

  And swallowed.

  Oh Lord.

  Regret was the emotion du jour, and it came rushing in, thickening the air around her and making it hard to breathe. She needed to leave. To quit her job. Maybe even move away. How far could she go? Would he give her a reference? A good one? Oh no. What if she’d sucked at everything last night? He’d said sexy, complimentary things, but that was in the heat of the moment. And really what could he say? Gee, you really suck at giving head? How could she ever face him again?

  She had to get the heck out of there. She needed a plan. She could run from the room, but that would make her look like an idiot. Not to mention that she was sore in places she never knew could get sore. She made a mental note to join a gym. Immediately. She could try to play it cool, but she wasn’t cool enough to pretend to be cool. Especially after their mind-blowing sexfest and perfect kisses. Oh, how she’d loved those kisses! She shouldn’t love those kisses. It was one night. One night of pleasure. A fantasy. No strings. No regrets. She’d done great with the first three, but she was screwed on the regret thing.

  Just one night and we’ll never speak of it again.

  She clung to his promise. Maybe he’d wake up and they really wouldn’t speak of it. They’d pretend as if they always walked around naked, the two of them in his apartment, and then she’d get dressed and leave. Monday morning they’d act like it had never happened.

  That possibility made her feel a little better. He was experienced. Surely he knew to do that.

  His arm tightened around her middle, and his cock—his beautiful, talented cock—lodged between her ass cheeks. She went damp and buried her face in the pillow. Maybe he had a gun and she could save them both the embarrassment and shoot herself.

  He pressed a kiss just below her ear, and she froze.

  “Freckles?” he whispered sleepily. “You’re still here?” His body tensed, and
he bolted upright. “Freckles. You’re still here.”

  Okay, so maybe he wasn’t as experienced as she’d hoped.

  The shock in his voice made her wish for that gun again. He might as well have said, What the fuck are you still doing here?

  “I’m leaving. I’m sorry. I must have fallen asleep.” She clung to the sheet and moved to get up, but he swept her beneath him and looked at her like he was trying to figure out how they’d ended up here.

  “Calm down,” he said casually. How’d he tuck away his panic so fast?

  She pressed her lips together in an attempt to silence her mounting panic, but it bubbled out anyway. “I can’t. I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have. I...How can I calm down? I have to leave. Like, right now.”

  She leaned up, expecting him to move, but he remained an immovable wall of stupid, sexy muscles. His piercing stare brought back every seductive look he’d given her last night, and his cocky grin made her all sorts of confused. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m formally giving you my resignation. Right now. Forget last night. Please. God, please.”

  “Why?” he asked with an amused chuckle.

  “Stop enjoying my mental breakdown. I’ll tell you why. Because we did all those dirty things, and I was supposed to be learning, and all I did was let you give me orgasm after orgasm after orgasm after…” She winced. “You get the picture. And I shouldn’t have stayed over.”

  “Because ‘the book’ says so.”

  “Ohmygod. You know about the book?” Holy crap, what else did I say?

  He cocked a brow.

  “Okay, I can explain. The Handbook: Release Your Inner Temptress came highly recommended, and it was helpful—” Her words were smothered by his mouth, as were her thoughts and her anxiety, until all that was left was the feeling that she was floating on a cloud.