Free Bad Boys After Dark: Mick by Melissa Foster Page A

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