Bad Boys After Dark:Brett(9)

By: Melissa Foster


“She and Siena went shopping. Did I tell you Ellie’s three months pregnant?” Ellie was Dex’s wife, and Siena was his twin sister.

“Man, that’s awesome,” Brett said. “Congratulations.”

“Congrats, man,” Dylan said.

“Thanks. We’re stoked,” Dex said as Dylan filled his order. “We just had dinner with Kurt. He’s heading over to Pages bookstore, so I stopped by to have a drink with Mitch and Regina.” Mitch and Regina worked for Dex.

“Kurt’s at Pages tonight?” Brett asked as he typed a text to Sophie. Where are you?

“Yeah. Ellie’s friend works there, and when she found out he was in town, she asked him to do an impromptu reading. Want to join us for a drink?”

Brett’s phone vibrated, and a quick glance told him where to find Sophie. “I’ve got to run, but thanks. Good seeing you. And congrats.” He patted Dex on the back and headed for the door.



IF SOPHIE HAD to listen to one more stuffed shirt talk about bouquets and aeration she was going to lose her mind. She’d hoped the plethora of well-dressed, handsome men and wine would offer a much-needed distraction from the brazen man who had kept her up all night—or rather, had left her reeling and wondering why he hadn’t tried to keep her up all night. But the minute these guys opened their mouths, all that came out was pretentiousness. Sophie knew how to dress the part of high-fashion city girl, and she enjoyed living in the Big Apple, but she was still a small-town girl at heart. She didn’t give two hoots about summering in Italy, and she didn’t have a love affair with wine. If it tasted good, she’d drink it. And if not, she’d choose something else.

Like a Dirty Girl Scout.

Her mouth watered with the thought of that delicious drink, but her body heated up with the memory of the dirty playboy who had bought it for her.

And danced with me.

And walked me home.

And didn’t kiss me.

She’d felt her biggest distraction’s touch long after he’d dropped her off last night, and it had been his voice whispering in her ear as she’d pleasured herself in an effort to stop thinking about him. The short-lived relief had only left her wishing it had been him doing the deed.

She glanced down at her phone. She’d been shocked, and delighted, when she’d received Brett’s text, but now a wave of disappointment washed through her at the sight of the blank screen.

She’d spent half the night dissecting their interactions, wondering if there was something wrong with her, and the other half thankful that he hadn’t pushed her to sleep with him. She’d hoped the morning would bring clarity to her lust-addled brain. After all, she had no one-night stand to regret. But after hours of remembering how he’d held her, how tempting his body had felt, and the sensual way he’d spoken, when the sun rose, she was still muddled with confusion. As if that wasn’t enough to turn her inside out, the look in his eyes when they’d stood outside her apartment last night, when he’d said, Sleep well, Sexy Sophie. Thanks for an incredible night, had only made her want him more.

Great. Now she’d never stop thinking about him.

She closed her eyes, telling herself to focus on the boring conversations going on around her. The ones that made her want to gouge her eyes out. That might be better than fantasizing about a man who admittedly is allergic to commitment.

“There you are, Pookie Bear.”

Sophie’s eyes flew open at the sound of Brett’s deep voice. Holy cow. What was he doing there? And who the hell was Pookie Bear? He stood at the far side of the room, devilishly handsome in a black dress shirt and slacks, and so focused on her, she wanted to be his Pookie Bear.

He wasted no time eating up the distance between them, carrying himself with such a commanding air of self-confidence he drew the attention of the women and men in the room. His arm swept around Sophie’s waist, and he grinned at her. “I have been looking all over for you. Are you ready to go, Pooks?”

Go? Pooks? “What are you doing here?” she whispered.

He pressed his cheek to hers as he led her toward the door and said, “Saving your fine ass from the worst night of your life.”

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