BrettBy: Melissa Foster
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.”