BRETT BAD HATED to be subdued, in bed or in social situations, and he’d just about hit his limit. But he cherished his family, which explained why he was standing in the middle of a Manhattan perfumery at nine thirty on a Friday night, celebrating the grand opening of Cashmere, his sister-in-law’s new boutique, instead of seeking relief in the arms of a beautiful woman. He was happy for her, but as he downed a second glass of champagne, he itched to get the hell out of the refined event.
His brother Dylan sidled up to him, his eyes locked on his wife, Tiffany, standing across the room. There was a time when Dylan would be eyeing the skirts in the room, playing wingman for Brett. But like Carson and their oldest brother, Mick, Dylan had recently fallen in love, leaving Brett as the last bachelor.
A position he planned to hold on to for a very long time.
Brett might look like his brothers—tall, dark, and athletic—but that was about as far as their similarities went. He couldn’t imagine coming home to the same woman every night. Hell, he couldn’t imagine kissing the same woman every night. Although, he had to admit, after spending time with his brothers and their wives, who were so swept up in each other they practically oozed love, he could no longer stomach the meaningless talk he’d once endured when he hooked up with random women. His brothers were so happy, Brett sometimes wondered if he was missing out on some magnificent world he hadn’t been clued into. But that thought was usually followed by a laugh, a drink, and a fuck.
At least it had been, until a couple months ago.
He picked up another flute of champagne, and as he brought it to his lips, he noticed a brunette flashing a flirtatious smile in his direction. He took in her perfectly applied makeup, the practiced come-hither smile, and obviously fake breasts and waited for a pang of appreciation to hit him, for his cock to take notice, or the heat of lust to simmer inside him. A minute later, as she nudged the blonde standing beside her and the two of them headed his way, he was still waiting. Ever since Carson and Dylan’s double wedding two months ago, the desire that had once come so easily for ready and willing women had taken a decisive step back, and it was starting to piss him off.
He downed the drink and set the empty flute on the buffet table, his gaze catching on the perfect heart-shaped ass of a sexier, curvier brunette. The Magnum in his pants twitched. That’s more like it.
“Is she beautiful, or what?” Dylan said.
He knew his brother was talking about Tiffany, a tall blond sports agent who was as fierce in business as she was in love with Dylan. But as Brett said, “A stunner,” there was only one woman on his mind. The feisty one who had starred in every goddamn fantasy he’d had since he’d met her and whose sassy retorts never failed to turn him on. The one leaning closer to her friend to sniff a bottle of perfume. Sophie Roberts, his brother Mick’s legal assistant, and the beautiful temptress who blew him off every chance she got—including at his brothers’ wedding, when she’d flipped some sort of switch inside him.
The other two women neared with hopeful seduction sparkling in their eyes, and Brett planned his escape. Dylan seemed oblivious to anyone other than Tiffany, so he clued him in. “Trouble at two o’clock.”
“Aw, hell. Thanks, man.”
As Dylan headed for Tiffany, Brett set his sights on Sophie, who was being ogled by a blond dude with let’s fuck in his eyes. Brett rolled his shoulders back, sizing up the competition as he crossed the room. Competition my ass. The douche bag was definitely barking up the wrong tree. Then again, any man trying to hook up with Sophie in front of Brett was in for trouble. She may not be his, but he was bound and determined to change that. At least for one night. It was time to reset his interest meter, and he was pretty sure the only way to do that was to finally have Sophie Roberts.
Sophie bent at the waist to smell another fragrance, and Brett came up behind her, leaning in close enough to feel her softness against him, and said, “I’d know that fine ass anywhere.”
Without missing a beat, Sophie straightened her spine. Her electric-blue eyes slid down his frame, alighting every greedy ion inside him. A confident smile lifted her full lips as she met his gaze and said, “I thought I smelled cocky ex-cop.”
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.”
“Well, Sexy Sophie, you’ve clearly got the wrong man starring in your fantasies. If thrills are what you’re into, you’re looking at the king of them.”
Sophie laughed. “You never give up, do you?”
“Not easily,” Brett admitted.
Her expression softened, and her gorgeous blue eyes moved between him and Grace. She exhaled loudly and said, “Fine. But I’m not sleeping with you.”
“You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”
AFTER CONGRATULATING TAWNY and assuring her that despite Brett’s assertions, she did not need a perfume that smelled like him, Sophie headed to NightCaps with Brett and Grace. An hour, and two glasses of wine later, she sat at a table in the back of the bar as Brett got up to order another round of drinks. His piercing honey-brown eyes locked on her as he tossed his sport coat over the back of the booth and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt, revealing a delicious path of olive skin and a dusting of chest hair. Damn, the man had cornered the market on hot bodies. She absently licked her lips, tasting the sweetness of the alcohol and wondering what Brett’s lips tasted like. Were they sweet from the liquor, or spicy from his virility? She bet they held a hint of both. Little did he know it wasn’t Kurt Remington she dreamed about, at least not in the ways Grace thought she did. It was Brett, the most arrogant, aggressive man she knew. She usually found those traits so annoying she never gave guys who displayed them a second thought. But Brett was a beast of a different kind. He had a way of looking at her that made her feel like there was more behind his hungry stare, which might be ridiculous since he’d never even asked her out on a real date, but still, that feeling lingered.
Brett leaned into the booth beside Sophie and said, “Don’t get too hot and bothered watching my ass as I walk away.”
His snarky comment snapped her out of her reverie. What on earth was she doing there? She knew better than to test her willpower around him. She watched him walk away, trying to ignore the familiar stirring low in her belly.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” she hissed at Grace. She and Grace had grown up together in their small hometown of Oak Falls, Virginia. Grace looked like a young Andie MacDowell, with wild dark hair and mossy green eyes. She was as fun as she was cautious, and Sophie loved her to pieces. They’d both had big dreams of living in New York City, and after attending college there, they’d remained. Grace was living her dream, writing and producing off-Broadway plays, and Sophie loved her job as Mick Bad’s legal assistant.
“Are you kidding me? Sophie, he is totally into you.”
“Yeah, and anyone else in a skirt.” She glanced at Mr. Sexual Energy, with his brassy swagger and expensive slacks that hugged him in all the best places, and couldn’t deny the heat streaming through her.
“Um, no, he’s not.” Grace stepped from the booth and wiggled her hips, reminding Sophie she was wearing a skirt and Brett wasn’t hitting on her. She slid back into the booth and said, “I’m telling you, that man is all about you, babe. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you the whole time we’ve been here.”
She watched Brett lean across the bar beside a gorgeous blonde who was clearly pleased with his proximity. He said something to the woman, and in her mind Sophie imagined him saying, What are you doing later, sweetheart?
Brett glanced over his shoulder at Sophie, and the blonde followed his gaze, her smile wilting a little. Ugh. Grace was so wrong. The man was definitely not marriage material, and she had never been, and had no intention of becoming, a one-night stand.
“He only wants sex,” Sophie said, turning her attention back to Grace. She didn’t need to watch him in action. “And you of all people know what I want out of life.”
“Okay, I totally get what you’re saying. But you’ve got to hand it to him. The guy doesn’t try to hide his intentions. On some level that’s admirable.” Grace glanced in Brett’s direction. “Besides, you’ve been talking about him for the past few years like you could be interested.”
“More like I’m frustrated.”
Grace lowered her voice and said, “It’s been almost a year since you got laid. Of course you’re frustrated.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “Not sexually frustrated, and I don’t get laid. You’re confusing me with Lindsay.” Lindsay was Sophie’s carefree younger sister who did not believe in long-term relationships or marriage. Sophie loved her dearly, but she had no idea how two sisters could be brought up under the same roof and have totally different ideals.
“Well, I personally think you should consider the very available option you have before you tonight. Because I have to tell you, with how lonely I’ve been lately, even I’m wondering just how good Mr. Bad can be.”
Sophie’s stomach pitched. “You cannot be serious. You can’t go after him.”
“Careful, sweetheart. Your interest is showing,” Grace whispered as Brett returned with their drinks.
“Let’s see, we have one white zinfandel.” He placed a wineglass in front of Grace, and then he set a drink in front of Sophie. “And one Dirty Girl Scout.”
Grace laughed. “This guy doesn’t miss a beat.”
Sophie downed half her drink, trying to ignore the thrum of desire coursing through her as Brett waggled his brows.
“In your dreams,” she said as he slid into the booth beside her, bringing his warm, masculine scent with him. She reminded herself that she was strong-willed and Brett was just like the dark chocolate cake she adored but knew she shouldn’t eat too much of. She could handle him for a little while. But Grace was giving her the go-for-it look, and she couldn’t deny that spending one night with Brett might finally put out the torch she’d been carrying for him.
That’s a very bad idea.
She guzzled the rest of her drink. If her brain refused to cooperate, maybe she could dull her senses until she no longer felt the heat between them.
Brett put his hand on her leg and leaned closer, his fingers skimming her inner thigh. “How about we make those dreams come true?”
Sophie peeled his hand from her leg and set it on his own.
“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.”