Bad Boys After Dark:Brett(2)

By: Melissa Foster

As an international security expert, Brett knew how to read people, and no matter how many times Sophie turned him down, the desire in her eyes gave away what she really wanted.

“What was that? You want to smell my cock?” He paused long enough to notice, and appreciate, the effect he had on her. Her nipples strained against her curve-hugging gray dress. Stepping closer, he took in the flecks of silver in her eyes and the slight hitch in her breathing. He’d propositioned her more times than he cared to admit, and he loved each reaction more than the last. “Smelling isn’t really my thing, but if you want to get up close and personal, I can be persuaded.”

“Hey,” her friend said with a scowl.

Sophie touched the brunette’s arm, never taking her eyes off Brett. “It’s okay, Grace. You know how some guys buy cars to make up for their”—she lowered her gaze to his groin, stoking the fire inside him, and arched a brow before meeting his stare again—“deficits? Brett is a master at it. Grace Montgomery, meet Brett Bad, Mick’s youngest brother.”

“And his biggest,” Brett added with a smirk.

Now it was Grace’s turn to size him up, and she did so with a jut of her hip, a crossing of her arms, and a long, slow leer from his head to his toes, which had zero effect on him, other than amusement.

“This is Brett? The one who wants to install monkey bars in the conference room for his after-hour fantasies?” Grace reached out and lifted his chin with her index finger, making a dramatic show of assessing his features.

He got a kick out of her brazenness, but an even bigger high knowing that Sophie had talked about him.

“He’s definitely hot, Soph,” Grace said. “You sure he’s packing a minibike in there and not a Harley?”

Brett chuckled. Holding Sophie’s gaze, he said, “How about we ditch this place, have a few drinks, and maybe you can find out?”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Sophie said.

It wasn’t a no, which was more than he usually got out of her. “Since when has that stopped me from anything?”

“Probably never.” Sophie lifted her chin with a sassy smile.

“And this is a very good idea,” he assured her. Sophie was good friends with his brothers’ wives, and because of that she was often included in their outings, which meant she and Brett were together a lot. But not alone. He’d give anything to get her alone, and getting her to go for drinks with him and her friend was one step closer. “We even have a chaperone, right, Grace?”

“You are good, aren’t you?” Grace looked at Sophie. “Actually, I could use a little fun. I’ve been working like mad.”

Sophie shifted her weight from one high heel to the other. “It’s getting late.”

“We’ll only have a few drinks, not stay out all night.” That is, unless you want to.

“I’m game,” Grace said. “If for no other reason than so I can be entertained by Brett tossing out his fishing line. It’s my only night off in weeks, and I’m the one who has to work in the morning.”

Sophie bit nervously at her lip.

“Come on,” Grace coaxed. “Stop being such a Girl Scout. Besides, what do you have waiting at home? The next Kurt Remington novel?”

Kurt Remington wrote thrillers, and Brett knew the author well. When Kurt was in town, he and his siblings hung out at NightCaps, the bar Dylan owned. But this new information about Sophie surprised him. He’d always pictured her reading romance novels and watching the Hallmark Channel, dreaming of finding Mr. White Picket Fence, which, according to Mick, was why she wouldn’t give Brett the time of day.

“You read thrillers?” he asked, in case Grace had been kidding.

“Read them?” Grace laughed. “She’s devoured them since we were kids. That’s about all she does in her free time. That and dreaming about Kurt Remington, the very hot, very married, author.”

“Grace!” Sophie tried to suppress her smile. “That’s not all I do, and I don’t dream about him. I just like his writing and the way his mind works.”