Melissa Foster Bad Boys After Dark: Mick Read Online Free

March 01, 2022 Post a Comment

Bad Boys After Dark: Mick

Bad BOYS

—Mick—

Everything'due south naughtier later on dark…

Book One

Subsequently Dark Series

Melissa Foster

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and practise not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted total ownership and/or legal correct to publish all the materials in this book.

BAD BOYS AFTER Dark: MICK

V1.0

This volume may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the example of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Cover Design: Elizabeth Mackey Designs

Earth LITERARY PRESS

PRINTED IN THE United states OF AMERICA

A Note to Readers

The Later on Dark series is written in the aforementioned raw, emotional voice as my other romance series, with naughtier language and amped-up heat levels.

If this is your first Melissa Foster book, you lot accept a whole serial of loyal, sexy, and wickedly naughty heroes and sexy, sassy heroines to grab up on with my Dearest in Blossom series (Snow Sisters, The Bradens, The Remingtons, Seaside Summers, The Ryders, and Harborside Nights). The characters from each series make appearances in future books.

Be sure to sign up for my newsletter and so you never miss a release! http://www.melissafoster.com/newsletter

See the complete Love in Blossom serial

Download Costless Love in Flower ebooks

Download publication schedules, series club, etc.

For my readers

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Affiliate Three

Chapter Iv

Chapter Five

Chapter Half-dozen

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Affiliate Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Xi

Affiliate Twelve

Affiliate 13

Chapter Fourteen

Affiliate 15

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Are you set up for Dylan Bad?

Fall in dear with Trish & Boone

Meet Grayson Lacroux

BOOK Listing

~Many Thanks~

Meet Melissa

Chapter One

LURED BY THE pulse of sex and anonymity, Amanda Jenner moved through the dusky bar, brushing against silk, satin, cotton, and flesh, each graze feeding the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Blueish lights misted over sweaty strangers lost in the seductive bump and grind of foreplay and hoping for a dark of erotic pleasure. If Amanda tried hard enough, she could aroma tomorrow's scent du jour—regret. Tonight she had no room for the conviction-crushing worry of what tomorrow would bring. She scanned the oversupply, as she had in the previous three bars, immediately dismissing anyone who wasn't in costume. Her world was full of boring men who excelled at wining, dining, and wearisome her to slumber. Ten years of romance novels and movies had led her astray, sending her on a search for the elusive needle in a haystack. She'd led herself astray, always the conscientious thinker, conscientious dresser. Or every bit her younger sis, Ally, would say, Careful kisser, careful lover. Ally, however, had taken charge of her sex life—and she'd constitute the perfect human being.

Now it's my turn.

Amanda was on the prowl, in search of a man who could wine and dine her, make her laugh, think, and feel—for ane night. A man who not merely knew how to get a adult female off, merely enjoyed doing it many times earlier taking his make full. If not for Ally, she wouldn't accept known guys like that existed in real life. But now that she did, she wanted one, and the masquerade bar crawl was the perfect venue for her solo coming-out party.

Her optics defenseless on the dark effigy of a human being, large and powerful, continuing a few inches above the crowd. He leaned toward a woman wearing a slinky little blackness wearing apparel and a mask that covered her from nose to forehead, like Amanda'south. Amanda's pulse quickened—for the broad, strapping, masked man, not for her competition. Like whatever good paralegal, she'd done her research, trading romance novels for The Handbook: Release Your Inner Temptress and stalking Net sites for tips on flirting and taking charge of her sexuality. And so she'd proficient.

Excessively.

She'd spent weeks mentally function-playing her new vixen persona, using her boss, and surreptitious crush of three years, equally her prey. He was sex and sin all wrapped upward in Armani and blest with a beautifully smart brain—and off-limits. He never mixed business with pleasure, which fabricated him the perfect fantasy playmate.

The masked human turned, giving Amanda a better view of his wide breast and shoulders, draped in black leather. I'd like to exist draped in y'all. A shiver chased the idea. Was she really doing this? She inhaled a shaky breath and took in the silver mask dipping depression on his cheeks, hiding some of his thick, sexy night scruff, and riding up over his nose to his hairline. His gaze shifted, catching her staring. Her nipples tightened with sensation. The unfamiliar sensation startled her, momentarily shaking her confidence again. She averted her eyes to catch her jiff, reminding herself this was what she was here for—a flash of burn down, a forbidden fuck.

Pushing past the frightening thunder within her chest, she curled her fingers around the hem of her treacherously short skirt. She couldn't chicken out. Not after weeks of research and pep talks. Specially not after finally finding the backbone to get waxed from caput to toe, including all the painful parts in betwixt, which was hands every bit scary as standing in a crowd of strangers searching for someone to have meaningless sexual activity with.

Oh God, am I really going to practise this?

She chanced another peek at Leatherman, now casually leaning against a colonnade and brazenly watching her. A boundless mix of thrill and fearfulness soared through her. She wasn't a quitter. Careful Amanda fought difficult, but vixen Amanda thrust her bated. She was doing this. She was doing him.

If she could stop shaking like a frigging foliage. She lowered her chin, holding Leatherman's steady gaze. One, two…I tin can't breathe…3, four…She tore her optics away. Damn it. The book said to count to 7.

She'd build up. Practice on a few unsuspecting men before going in for the kill.

Kill? Really? That'south awful.

End overthinking!

Inhaling a calming breath, she drew upon what she'd read. Affiliate 14, Conquering the Human being of Your Dreams, and knew what she had to do. Staring out at the bounding main of masked and painted faces, she conjured upward her boss's handsome confront and envisioned her tall, dark fantasy man moving across the trip the light fantastic floor, his attention trained on her.

He would never go to a bar crawl.

She sighed. Non helpful.

Her boss represented some of the wealthiest and virtually beautiful entertainers in the world. His female clients were always hit on him or trying to set him upwards with their friends and sisters. That thought made her knees wobble even though it was known around the role that he never mixed business concern with pleasure, and she stumbled in her sky-loftier boots. She probably shouldn't take had two drinks at the last bar, but the liquid courage was necessary. Another masked man turned a predatory stare on her, his arm swooping around her waist as she tried to regain her footing.

His eyes slid over her face with little interest and dropped to the ample cleavage spilling out the top of her rib-crushing costume. Perfect. She swallowed h

ard to steady her mounting panic. I can do this. The Handbook claimed in one case the first seduction was nether her belt, the rest would exist piece of cake. She wished she could skip the seduction role and become straight to the easy phase. Her encephalon told her to walk away. She didn't know this guy, or who he'd been with, or anything. Only wasn't that exactly what tonight was nigh? Finding her sexual freedom? Owning it? She'd chosen the sexy blackness velvet apparel with the tight bodice she could inappreciably exhale in and satin and lace trim that barely covered her donkey specifically to throw off I'm-all-in vibes. And just in case that didn't say it all, she'd bought the lace-up fuck-me boots Cosmo suggested and the blond wig Bagyourman.com raved about—considering everyone knew blondes had more fun.

Drawing from the flirtation tips she'd studied, she fingered the blond wig and drew in a deep breath, arched her back, and thrust her breasts forrad.

The stranger licked his lips, and his eyes flicked up to hers long enough for him to say, "'Sup?" and so slid south over again.

Really? 'Sup? 'Sup wasn't a word. It wasn't fifty-fifty a greeting. It was a racket some lazy, uneducated person came up with because they couldn't put enough real words together to course a sentence. I wore the outfit. I'm owning my sexuality. And this is who'southward attracted to me? She could become this type of guy with hairy legs, flip-flops, and no makeup.

Ally'due south vocalism whispered through her mind. Y'all're doing it once more. Her sister claimed she express her dating options past existence overly judgmental. But Amanda didn't believe she was overly judgmental. She was smart. Flow. Was it too much to look intelligent conversation?

Her answer came in a recollection from The Handbook.

Affiliate Three: Don't talk. Touch.

Right.

I can do without intelligent chat for one night. Tonight she was uncorking her trunk and releasing her inner temptress. Acutely aware of the blazing bead Leatherman had on her from across the room, she flashed him her most seductive smile and turned the inferno he stoked on the numskull abreast her.

"Hey." The word lingered on her natural language for a few extra beats.

Genius took a swig of his beer, arm nonetheless fastened effectually her waist. "You're hot. What'due south your name?"

She wanted fundamental, and the simply thing central about this guy was his stench. Forcing herself to see him as foreplay for the main upshot, she said, "Lola," with practiced casualness. "Yous?"

"Rick." He nodded a few times, laughing nether his breath.

She needed more booze for this. A lot more. "Buy me a drink?"

He peered over his shoulder at the crowded bar, giving Amanda an opportunity to browse the crowd for a different man to practice on, only Leatherman's gaze was too powerful to ignore, and it reeled her back in.

"Too long of a line," the homo beside her said, and handed her his beer.

"Thank you, I'thousand skillful." She shook her head to tear her attending from the human she wanted and tried to slip dorsum into character.

He tugged her closer with a lecherous grin. "I'yard counting on yous being better than good."

She closed her eyes briefly, trying similar hell to bring on the fantasy so she could forget this guy was a stinky loser, just no matter how hard she tried to conjure up her boss's handsome face he refused to announced. Leatherman's stare drew her in similar a slave. Adrenaline surged through her veins, a lecherous ache growing low in her abdomen, filling her with pulsing heat.

This is primal. Her senses careened, and she fought the urge to bound up and downward and scream, I feel key! Aimlessly searching her mind for an escape from the man who had her in his grasp, she remembered chapter eighteen, Gracefully Bowing Out, and ran her fingers down Rick's arm, eyes still locked on Mr. You'll Practise Perfectly for Tonight.

"Oh, I'thousand better than good," she promised. "Merely my friends are getting antsy. I'd amend head over."

MICK BAD STRODE across the trip the light fantastic floor, sizing up the asshole gripping the blonde's arm. He'd come to the bar crawl hoping to get lost in a adept fuck, and the blonde was sending the same greedy vibes, with an alluring hint of true cat and mouse. He wasn't about to allow this twentysomething shadow of a man go in his manner. Mick had been that guy once, self and stupid, taking what he wanted despite the consequences. He'd carried the anger of losing his younger sis similar a calling menu for vengeance, but he'd outgrown that reckless troublemaking stage. Whoever said wisdom came with age was correct. There were better means to handle idiots similar him. Unfortunately for this asshole, the ceremony of Mick's sister'south decease always brought him closer to the reckless edge, and if the guy pushed, he just might brand an exception.

He stepped betwixt the blonde and the man belongings her captive, his six-three frame forcing enough space that the guy had to reach around him to keep hold of her.

"What the fuck, dude?"

Ignoring him, Mick put a manus on the blonde'southward elbow, and in his best disappointed-husband vocalism, he said, "Dearest, I exit for a few minutes and yous pick up another guy?"

"Wha…?" She turned from him to the jerk, who was spewing bullshit Mick as well chose to ignore, and silenced as understanding dawned on her.

Mick gave her a reassuring nod, then turned to the guy. "Pitiful, man." He draped an arm around the curvy blonde and strode away. She felt heavenly confronting him, well worth the moment of irritation.

"I was treatment him," she said with a slight quiver in her voice.

"Thought I'd speed up the process. I can call back of amend ways to expend your energies."

"Yous can?" she said breathlessly. Her oral cavity snapped close and she cleared her throat. "Tin you lot?" she said in a more provocative tone.

Why he institute that momentary innocence incredibly sexy was beyond him. He didn't usually go for women who were easily flustered, simply he'd spotted her in the hotter-than-hell apparel with the hint of white lace peeking out from beneath when he'd offset arrived. Her attempts to hold his stare were impressive, and the enticing way she moved conflicted drastically with the nervous way she tugged at the hem of her skirt when she idea no 1 was watching. An alluring combination of naughty and dainty.

Pressing his hand to her lower back, he brought her tight against his arousal.

"Absolutely," he promised. "Besides, you've been eye-fucking me all nighttime."

She sucked in a ragged jiff. "I…"

"Hey, no complaints here, and no pressure."

She reached up and touched his whiskers. Information technology was a tender touch, not the crude stroke of a woman out to get laid, but backside her mask her eyes darkened. He lowered his confront to hers and pressed a buss to her cheek, testing the waters. He'd just taken her from the artillery of an asshole. He shouldn't exist thinking virtually all the dirty things he'd similar to do to her and then soon, only he couldn't deny the imploring look she was giving him, or ignore the feel of her soft, willing trunk. She spoke heady and low, talking under the noise of the bar instead of over it, and he wanted to hear more of information technology.

Unable to resist, he took her chin between his finger and thumb and angled her head upwardly. "Let's have a test ride, see how we similar it."

His mouth came coaxingly down over hers. She kissed tentatively, revealing inexperience that baffled him given her efforts at seduction. From across the room he'd been gear up to curve her over the bar. Now he had the strange desire to keep kissing her. Chasing the unfamiliar and uncomfortable idea from his caput, he intensified the osculation, taking her rougher and greedier. She returned his efforts with fervor, as if he'd untethered her. She moaned into his mouth, and information technology vibrated all the way to his cock. Holy hell. Had he been played? Was her tentativeness only a lure? Her hands locked around his cervix, nails earthworks into his pare. He smiled confronting her mouth, happy to be her catch of the nighttime.

Her trunk trembled every bit they feasted on each other's mouths, their bodies rocking and grinding to their ain urgent beat. He maneuvered their entangled bodies to the border of the trip the light fantastic flooring, then into the darkness beyond, until her dorsum met the wall.

> "Don't stop," she pleaded.

Did she call back he was a fool? No fashion was he stopping. He claimed her in some other greedy kiss, eating upwards the sweet, sexy sounds leaving her lungs. He drew dorsum, trapping her lower lip between his teeth and giving it a gentle tug as he mentally picked through their options. He was thirty-four years former and non exactly into having sex in a bar restroom, simply his throbbing erect wasn't as picky. Behind her mask, her eyes were closed. He brushed his mouth over hers, placing a buss to the great of her upper lip.

"Don't cease," she repeated, stronger this fourth dimension.

The hell with his distaste for bathrooms. He took her hand and pulled her down the narrow hallway toward the restrooms. She stumbled in her fuck-me boots. He gathered her against him and pushed through the men'southward room door.

"Out," he commanded to a guy who was washing his hands, and locked the door backside him.

He backed her upwardly confronting the wall, kissing her hard and deep, exactly like he wanted to fuck her. Lifting her leg at the articulatio genus, he hitched it around his waist and rocked his cock against her. She tasted sweet, hot, and like the perfect remedy for his ghost-ridden week. Desperate to push by the painful memories, he shoved his other hand beneath her dress and tore her thong from her body, dropping the shredded textile to the floor.

"Tell me to stop," he growled, hoping to hell she wouldn't.

She pressed her lips together and shook her caput. The fluorescent bathroom lights sparkled off her mask and the glittery makeup caking her cheeks.

"I'm taking that as a green low-cal. Is information technology a green light?" The attorney in him knew better than to assume.

She nodded.

"Thank fucking God."

ridgemagain.blogspot.com

Source: https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/melissa-foster/67663-bad_boys_after_dark_mick.html