Monday, December 19, 2016

#ReviewTour #Giveaway #PreOrder #BuyNow - Bad Billionaires After Dark: Dylan by Melissa Foster

Title: Bad Billionaires After Dark: Dylan
Author: Melissa Foster 
Genre: Steamy Adult Romance
Release Date: December 21, 2016
Bad Billionaires After Dark are a series of stand-alone hot and sexy romances.

Indulge your inner vixen with these sexy billionaires!
Meet the Bad Boys... Four fiercely loyal, sinfully sexy, uber alpha brothers, about to fall head over heels for their leading ladies.

Everything's naughtier after dark...

Sinfully sexy bar owner Dylan Bad has a thing for needy women. He's a savior, a knight in shining armor, and his mighty talented sword has no trouble bringing damsels in distress to their knees. Enter Tiffany Winters, a gorgeous cutthroat sports agent who looks like sex on legs, f**ks like she's passion personified, and wouldn't let a man help her if she were dangling from a ledge and he was her only hope. One night and too much tequila might change their lives forever. The question is, will either one survive?

***

BAD BOYS AFTER DARK
Mick
Dylan
Carson (coming soon)
Brett (coming soon)

More After Dark books:
WILD BOYS AFTER DARK (Available Now!)
Logan
Heath
Jackson
Cooper

The BILLIONAIRES AFTER DARK series is part of the LOVE IN BLOOM big family romance collection. Each book may be read as a stand-alone novel, or as part of the series.



"Filled with humor, romance, family, and love. This one is not to be missed..." ~Between the Bookends
"Sex, secrets and pride are as destructive as any explosive. Dylan needed to heal himself before he could offer help to anyone else. Dylan can be described in two words. Wickedly good." ~Isha Coleman Reviews, Goodreads
"​With her wonderful characters and resonating emotions, Melissa Foster is a must-read author!" ~NYT Bestseller Julie Kenner​
"Melissa Foster is synonymous with sexy, swoony, heartfelt romance!" ~NYT Bestseller Lauren Blakely​






“What’s your pleasure?” he asked with more than a hint of innuendo.


You. Naked, with your head buried between my legs, to start.
“Surprise me.” She watched him turn to prepare her drink and checked out the way his dark slacks hugged his perfect ass. It had been a long time since she’d found a man this attractive. But Mick Bad’s brother? That spelled trouble.
A minute later he slid two drinks across the bar. A cocky smile spread across his handsome face. “One Leg Spreader and one All Night Long.” He dragged out each seduction-laden word.

“A little overly confident, aren’t you?” She had no qualms about taking what she wanted—in a boardroom or a bedroom—and Dylan’s confidence was a definite turn-on.
He leaned across the bar, and the temperature around them spiked. “I was going to add a Blow Job, but I wasn’t sure how much you could handle.”
She held his challenging gaze. “I think the question is, can you keep up?”

“Dylan!” a guy called from across the room.

Dylan held up a finger in the guy’s direction, his eyes never leaving Tiffany’s. He leaned in so close she could smell alcohol on his breath—and God help her, she wanted to suck the taste off his tongue.
“Mark my words, gorgeous, you’ll be leaving here with me tonight.”

Heat streaked down her spine. “Cocky. I like that. Tell Mick I said congratulations.” She dropped her eyes as if she weren’t hanging on the very thought of devouring him, but couldn’t resist stealing another peek at the tempting beefcake as he walked away. Okay, maybe severallong glimpses, of which he caught two or three and returned with an I-can’t-wait-to-fuck-you grin that had her insides igniting.

She answered another call and a few text messages, and a short while later, Dylan’s voice spilled like warm cognac over her shoulder.
“You know what they say about wedding hookups?”
She lifted her gaze as he sat on the stool beside her. “What do they say?”
“They say they can’t happen if you don’t put your phone away.” Dylan boldly placed his hand on her thigh. Long, strong fingers pressed into her flesh, sending rivers of desire to the apex of her thighs.

She wondered how big other parts of his anatomy were, and couldn’t help stealing a quick glance. Oh yeah, he was packing major heat. A whiff of his spicy, masculine scent brought all her best parts pulsing to life. His scent alone probably brought more women to their knees than the Pope, but coupled with the sinful promises in his dark eyes, the guy was lethal.
“I don’t put my phone down for just anyone,” she answered, still holding his gaze. His hungry eyes dropped to her mouth, lingering there long enough to make her salivate. “Are you as good in the bedroom as you are behind the bar?”

“I’ll let you be the judge of that.” He leaned closer, placing his mouth beside her ear. “I’ll even let you hold your phone until you’re sure I’m worth it.”

Now, that was a plan she could get on board with, except for one minor worry. “You’re my colleague’s brother. I’m not sure you’re the smartest choice for me tonight.”

He flashed a wicked grin that she was sure opened many bedroom doors. “A gentleman never tells.”
“You might just be the perfect man.” Her phone vibrated again. She glanced at it, noting a follow-up email from Allison, and the time. It was nearly midnight. Dylan’s hand traveled further up her thigh, his fingertips sneaking beneath her skirt. He was brazen, and she liked that in a man.
He eyed her phone with a smirk and pressed his large hand to her cheek. His thumb moved over her lower lip and hooked behind her front teeth. Her entire body electrified as he delved deeper, brushing the tip over her tongue.
“When I get done with you, you will have forgotten what that thing in your hand is.”
He was smooth, practiced, and knew exactly what he was doing. Thank God. She had so little time for sex, she couldn’t afford to waste it with a guy who needed to be shown. Sliding her purse over her shoulder and still clutching her phone, she turned to step off the stool. His hand traveled even higher up her leg, a fingertip away from brushing over her sex, and she felt herself go damp. Her pulse accelerated with the urge to slide forward on her barstool and let him feel what he was doing to her, but she wasn’t ready to give him the upper hand.

She casually moved his hand and rose to her feet.
He spoke in a greedy voice directly into her ear. “We’re going to have to change your name.” He swung his jacket over his shoulder and guided her toward the door.
“You’re far too hot for Winters.” He pushed the door open and lowered his mouth to her neck, grazing his teeth along the base—the absolute most sensitive spot on her entire body—and sending shivers down her spine. “From now on, you’re my Summers.”
As her body flamed and her insides melted, her mind struggled to figure out how he knew her name and to deny what he’d just said. She was no man’s anything. She turned to tell him just that, and he backed her up against the brick wall. A cool breeze sailed over her skin as he grabbed her wrists and pinned them beside her head, trapping her between the wall and his hard body. He claimed her mouth with fierce domination. The way he ate at her mouth and his hips gyrated against hers with no care about being out in public should have had her fighting harder to regain the upper hand. But the harder she fought to reclaim her rational thoughts, the more she craved him. Every part of her tingled and burned for more. Her nipples tightened to painful peaks, her sex throbbed, and her knees weakened. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d encountered someone so potently male, if ever, and she fucking loved it. Shocked at her own hungry response to his ravishment, she gave in to the unfamiliar thrills racing through her and returned his efforts with reckless abandon. But the more she gave, the softer the kisses became, until his lips were brushing lightly over hers, taunting her. He pulled back with every crane of her neck as she sought more. Still restraining her arms, he put space between their bodies. Cool air whooshed between them, causing her nipples to prickle even more painfully with the need to be touched.

“Oh, yes,” he said with a territorial look in his eyes. “You’re my Summers, all right.”
As blood began to flow to her brain again, the realization of her loss of control was staggering. She lifted her chin and wrenched her hands free. Holding his challenging and so-fucking-hot gaze, she grabbed hold of his loosened tie and tugged him in for another scorching kiss. When she felt his muscles relax, she spun him against the wall with a thud, grinning at the shock registering in his gorgeous eyes.

“I’m no man’s anything. But you can be my stress relief for the next hour.” She dragged her hand down his impressively broad chest and over his taut abs, still clutching her phone, and cupped the formidable bulge in his trousers.

“That is, if you can keep it up that long.”









WITH HER PHONE pressed to her ear, Tiffany Winters ducked out of the rain and into the Kiss, an eclectic Manhattan bar, to return calls and take care of a mountain of text messages that had piled up during her dinner meeting. She listened to her client’s wife explain why she didn’t want her husband traveling too often to endorse a hotel chain Tiffany was planning on pitching to him next week. Her client had already nixed any mention of his family in the advertisements, and reducing his travel would make it an even harder sell.
“I hear your concern, Allison,” she said as she sat on a barstool. “If you and Matt decide this isn’t the right thing for your family, we’ll turn our efforts in another direction.” As a sports agent, dealing with significant others was part of the job, a part Tiffany enjoyed and other agents rued. Sure, some wives assumed their husband’s success granted them the power to be overly demanding. Ass kissing was part of the game. Sometimes she wished she could give the meeker wives lessons in how to be tough. Teach them to have balls as big as their husbands’ and come right out and say what they meant instead of beating around the bush with bullshit hypotheticals. She reminded herself often that not every woman grew up in a testosterone-laden house with two competitive older brothers and a father who won the Heisman in college and went on to play pro sports—a house where mincing words didn’t cut the mustard.
“You missed the wedding.”
The deep male voice drew Tiffany’s attention from her phone call to the fine specimen of a man standing behind the bar. He looked like he’d just stepped off a Hot Guys in Suits Pinterest page. His tie hung loosely around the collar of his white dress shirt, which was open three buttons deep, revealing a smattering of dark chest hair, a rarity nowadays, when so many men manscaped every inch of their bodies. Tiffany preferred a man to look like a man, which included hair in all the right places. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing heavily corded forearms, and his jacket hung casually from two fingers over his left shoulder. Her fingers itched to send the last few buttons—and that jacket—flying to the floor. The guy’s chiseled jaw and dark eyes were movie-star classic, and his dark hair was thick enough to hang on to. She’d had a long, hard day, and he looked like he could provide a long, hard, pleasure-filled night.
Perfect.

Holding his gaze, she spoke into the phone as he laid his jacket across the bar, giving her the impression he wasn’t the bartender, but rather a guest who’d happened to wander back there. “Allison, I’ll see what else I can come up with and get back to you. Right. Okay, hon. Thank you.” After ending the call, she responded to the stud behind the bar. “Wedding? Who gets married at a bar?”
“My brother, for one.” He nodded across the room to a group of men and women who were holding their glasses up in a toast.
She zeroed in on one she recognized as her tall, dark colleague. “Mick Bad is married?” The high-powered attorney was a workaholic like her, and he’d been unattached two months earlier, when they’d worked together on a deal for one of her clients. She’d never understand couples who claimed to fall in love practically overnight. Love was a crutch for weak people who needed someone else to lean on. Except Mick Bad had never needed anyone to lean on. She wondered if his new bride was pregnant.

“The one and only.” Hot guy’s eyes took a long, luxurious stroll down her body, lingered on her breasts, then roamed north, hovering around her mouth, before finally meeting her gaze. He flashed a wolfish grin full of sinful promises.
“Dylan Bad at your service.”
Pushing thoughts of her newly married colleague’s expedient nuptials aside, she focused on his very available brother. A definite player, which was fine with her. She had no time—or interest—in anything but a quick hookup, and the six-two or -three stud had already shot to the top of tonight’s fantasy list.

“What’s your pleasure?” he asked with more than a hint of innuendo.

You. Naked, with your head buried between my legs, to start.
“Surprise me.” She watched him turn to prepare her drink and checked out the way his dark slacks hugged his perfect ass. It had been a long time since she’d found a man this attractive. But Mick Bad’s brother? That spelled trouble.

Melissa Foster is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes sexy and heartwarming contemporary romance, new adult romance (M/F, M/M, F/F), romantic suspense, thrillers, and historical fiction with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Melissa's emotional journeys are lovingly erotic and always family oriented. Her books have been recommended by USA Today's book blog, Hagerstown Magazine, The Patriot, and several other print venues. She is the founder of the World Literary Café. When she's not writing, Melissa helps authors navigate the publishing industry through her author training programs on Fostering Success.


Melissa has painted and donated several murals to The Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC. Her interests include her family, reading, writing, painting, friends, helping others see the positive side of life, and visiting Cape Cod.

Melissa is available to chat with book clubs and welcomes comments and emails from her readers. Visit Melissa on Facebook or her personal website.

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