by Vanessa Jaye
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Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520
Macon GA 31201
Felicity Stripped Bare
Copyright © 2008 by Vanessa Jaye
ISBN: 1-60504-062-2
Edited by Angela James
Cover by Anne Cain
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: July 2008
www.samhainpublishing.com
Felicity Stripped Bare
Vanessa Jaye
Dedication
Thank you to a great bunch of crit partners for patience, understanding, laughter, sharing your knowledge and just being there—Joyce, Raine, Julie, Amie, Sasha, Sela, Kat, Dee. Thank you to Cat Brown, motivator extraordinaire. And to Dayan, always, for love and support.
Chapter One
“…too bootylicious for you babe!” Felicity belted out the chorus to the old song on the radio for all she was worth. Tonight she and Cheryl were going to hit the town, blow off some steam and celebrate.
So her steps were a bit wobbly as she danced around the room, did she really give a damn she was about to topple from her stillettoed perch? Hah!
In the span of one day she’d gained the chance at a new life and lost 175 lbs—kicked him to the curb. Buh-bye Stuart.
As for the other thing, the thing she hadn’t even shared with Cheryl… She stopped dancing and hugged herself, recalling the phone message she’d picked up earlier—
“Hello, this is Elise, I’m a tutor with the Metro Toronto Library Adult Literacy Program and I’m calling to let you know your application has been accepted.”
The message went on to leave times, dates, contact info and other stuff she’d been too stunned to deal with. This was it. A first step towards a better life, more importantly a better her. Wisps of doubt curled in Felicity’s chest, echoes of the old taunts, “retard” and “stupid”, that she’d endured till she dropped out of school—
She inhaled, squeezing her eyes shut. Nothing was going to steal her joy at the moment, and no way was she coming down to earth closer than her four-inch heels. She got back to some serious booty-shaking.
When a series of knocks sounded at her door—Cheryl, finally!—she gyrated across the living room and flung the door open with one last shimmy thrown in for the hell of it.
“I don’t think you’re ready, for this—” Her hips stopped in mid-wiggle as two pairs of male eyes focused her.
“Hey, hey, Felicity, you wanna dance!” Mr. Lombardi raised his arms above his head and moved the bottom half of his roly-poly body in an extremely distressing fashion.
Wincing, she looked away from the landlord’s seizure-rhythmic boogie-down to the man who stood behind him. The stranger was dressed in jeans and a black turtleneck that made his shoulder-length hair look impossibly blond; as she watched, his mouth curved in appreciation while his cool green gaze swept her from head to toe, slowly. A shiver scrabbled down Felicity’s spine and her lungs stalled on the next breath.
Alrighty then. She obviously hadn’t thought this tight-jeans, high-heels thing through, hadn’t covered all the contingencies. For instance, the way this guy’s interest was making her feel like she had on way too much clothing for his liking. And not enough for her own. She took a tottery step back.
“M-Mr. Lombardi, what are you doing here?”
“Yeah, yeah, yesterday I say I gonna come by, for show Daniel around. Don’t tell me you forget.”
Okay, she wouldn’t tell him. Her gaze drifted back to Daniel. Phew. Was it hot in here, or was it just him? What did Lombardi just say, something about repairs?
The buzzer sounded, partially snapping her out of her hormone-induced stupor. She gestured the men in, then pushed the intercom button. It was Cheryl.
With her brain still on reconnaissance in Blondland, it took Felicity two tries to hit the open button for the front door downstairs.
“I hope you no mind we come now?” Lombardi asked.
And what if she did mind? What if she didn’t want this Daniel, with his hot bod and suggestive stare, leaving hot-bod footprints all over her flat?
“No problem at all.” Really what was she gonna say?
Mesmerized by Daniel’s rolling gait and compact butt, she watched the two men walk over to the small kitchen area of the main room.
“So, who’s Tarzan?” Cheryl, newly arrived, whispered in her ear.
Felicity spun round. “Holy shi—”
Cheryl raised an eyebrow, a reminder of their recent bet that Felicity couldn’t flush the potty-mouth routine.
For too many years growing up, swearing had been her first response to the name-calling, and it had worked too, on all but the most sadistic of her tormentors. Now she was determined to clean up her act.
“You scared the daylights out of me,” she amended.
“‘Daylights’? Girl, you better go back to swearing your damn fool head off.”
“Nope, I can do this; ‘daylights’ works just fine.”
Cheryl rolled her eyes just as Lombardi called out, “Helloo, Cheryl.” He wiggled his fingers at her.
“Hi, Mr. L.” Cheryl, one Sweet-’n-Low packet short of nauseating, wiggled her fingers back.
“Yes—ah, Daniel, you come, I show you.” A crimson-faced Lombardi bustled towards the bedroom with the Yumminator following close behind.
And speaking of behinds… Felicity once again found herself paying close attention to the way Daniel’s butt did that clench and relax thing.
“So who is that?” Cheryl repeated, disrupting Felicity’s lust-a-thon.
“Who?”
“The luscious one with Lombardi the lecherous but loveable landlord. Say that five times fast.”
“That, that, that, that, that.”
Cheryl made a face and stuck her tongue out as Felicity herded her over to the second-hand couch that dominated the small living area. “He’s some contractor Lombardi hired. They’ll be done soon and then we can leave.”
The men returned from the bedroom. Felicity caught Daniel’s gaze, and all the air got sucked out of the room. At least it felt that way. Why else would she be panting?
“Yowzah!” Cheryl said in an undertone.
That was putting it mildly.
“Forget it. Yowzah is howzah I ended up with Stuart in the first place. Now that he’s out of the picture—”
“Uh-huh,” Cheryl interrupted and reached for a decorating magazine on the coffee table as the guys walked past, headed for the deck. She slowly licked a finger and absently flipped a page as she checked out Daniel’s ass.
Felicity leaned forward, blocking Cheryl’s view. “I’m serious this time. Stuart and I are over.”
Cheryl pouted, but she straightened up. “You’re serious every time. This week you and my boy Stuuu-pid break up, next week y’all are back together. Same ole, same ole.”
“This time it’s for real, I—” Felicity stopped. While Mr. Lombardi locked the deck door, Daniel stood a few feet away, staring at her from beneath half-lowered lids. Heat stole into her face, and other places.
“We’re having a personal
conversation here, in case it escaped your notice.”
“Trust me,” his voice was a sexy rumble, “nothing…escaped my notice.”
“Now, Felicity, even I myself cannot help to hear some of what you talk about.” Mr. Lombardi gestured back and forth. “Daniel here no mean any disrespect. And your boyfriend he no deserve you, anyhow. Nice girl like you, go with nice boy. Get married, make lots of the bambini. Cheryl, you no agree?”
“Oh yeah, get married, make lots and lots of babies. Lots and lots and—hey!”
Felicity didn’t think she’d pinched Cheryl all that hard. Then again thinking clearly was out of the question, what with the way Daniel continued to eyeball her.
A sweep of thorny warmth tightened the tips of her breasts and his hooded gaze drifted lower, zoning in on those hardened tips, obviously thinking of the specific “lots and lots” involved in baby-making.
She watched the quick, discreet slide of his tongue across his lips, as if he could taste the pool of hot ‘n’ bothered she was sitting in.
One thing for sure, Lombardi wasn’t referring to Daniel.
He definitely was not a nice boy.
At least Stuart’s brand of self-confidence masqueraded itself as boyish charm. This one was just too sure of himself. She didn’t dwell on whether that confidence was earned or not.
“Okay, Felicity, we go now. Thank you for your time.”
“No problem, Mr. Lombardi.” She got up and followed them to the door.
Daniel paused as the men filed out, his broad-shouldered body filling the doorway and his citron aftershave teasing at her. Made her want to lick the delicious right off him.
If that were even possible.
“See you later, naked and spread-eagle—” Felicity blinked. What he really said was, “See you later.”
“Much.” She swung the door shut and leaned against it, heart beating like crazy, panties drenched, and nipples so stiff they could fly their own flags. She made a mental note never to be home when the repairs started.
Cheryl opened her mouth to say something, most likely outrageous and dirty. Felicity pointed a warning finger and said something that pretty much translated to temporarily losing their bet. Drinks were on her tonight.
Frig.
“I show to you the flat upstairs now.” Mr. Lombardi looked over his shoulder.
Daniel nodded, but his thoughts were still on the tenant in 2b, with her large gray eyes and lush mouth.
He almost walked into the little Italian when that man stopped suddenly. “Ahhh that Cheryl.” He flashed one hand back and forth. “Every time I see her, I feel like a-brand new. She is bellissima.”
Daniel smiled in agreement, following as Mr. Lombardi resumed his climb up the stairs. Felicity’s friend, with her dark skin, long braids and even longer legs was definitely attractive.
But…his thoughts slid back to the very nice package of Felicity herself, from her silky brown curls done up in a sexy little do, to her painted toes peeking out of those ridiculously high, strappy heels.
Bellissima worked, but, he smiled, bootylicious was more apt.
Thoughts of Felicity continued to tease at the edges of his mind as he and the landlord entered the empty third floor flat. He walked around the space as Mr. Lombardi continued to point out various features and gloss over imperfections that Daniel had already pinpointed with an experienced eye.
He opened a closet door, automatically gauging the dimensions and figured that if Felicity grabbed on to the bar overhead and wrapped those lean legs around him while he pumped—
What the hell was he doing?
Daniel slammed the door shut, literally and on all his pervy fantasies. He had enough on his plate between winding down his role at the law office and juggling construction projects with Rob, without adding more complications.
He refocused on the point of this visit. The place had good bones, and already he could picture it after the extensive renovations needed to convert it back to a single family home.
He and Rob would make a nice profit on the flip. Daniel turned to the little man and smiled. “I think you have a sale.”
***
Something sharp ricocheted off Felicity’s ass.
“Oh f—frak!” She jumped back from the spray of water and almost lost her footing. A minute later she identified her butt-missile as a tiny piece of plastic from the showerhead.
That was the last straw. She punched off the water, stomped out of the tub, and stalked into the bedroom.
Nude, dripping and pissed off, she grabbed the phone and punched in the number for her new landlord. Did it help that it took her a couple of tries to get the number right?
That she had to remember to calm down and focus on the frickin’ buttons so she wouldn’t get the freakin’ 6 and frickin’ 9 mixed up?
That sixty-nine was not a number she wanted to think about just as she was calling her super-hunky landlord?
The phone stopped mid-ring and a low male voice slid into her ear. “Hello.”
“Daniel.” She put just enough “pseudo” in her pseudo-chirpy tone to make the chirpiness suspect. “It’s Felicity. Do you know when you’ll be able to fix the shower? I just got hit in the ass.”
“In the shower?”
“No, in the ass. I-I mean yes, in the shower.”
There was a long uncomfortable pause until he cleared his throat. “Do you want to clarify that for me?” The timbre of his voice deepened, sweeping prickly heat over her drying skin.
Felicity became keenly aware of her nakedness. Her knees gave out and she plopped down on the bed, hugging a pillow to her stomach.
“The showerhead is broken; a piece of it just hit me in the—uhm, look I told you it was loose last week. You said you’d be by to fix it and take a look at the roof—which started leaking again when it rained on Monday, by the way.”
“So, I did.” A loud blast of air came through the phone.
The man actually had the nerve to sigh.
“Look, I’m on a job right now. I’ll be over later.”
“When later?”
“What time are you home?”
She checked the bedside clock-radio with its extra-large LCD numbers for easy readability. Shit, she was going to be late for work again.
“I won’t get home till late. Can you come by tomorrow, between twelve and three? No wait!” She had a tutoring session then. “Make it after four.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Look, I’m tied up at the moment. I’ll come by when I can.”
“Gotta go” was her only warning before the dial tone whined in her ear. How did she ever think the man was good-looking?
In the short time it took her to dress and pack her gear, an impressive combination of curses were birthed. Any friggin’ ideas she’d had that her friggin’ habit wasn’t firmly friggin’ entrenched were dispelled. Loathsome man.
Frig.
Pain-in-the-ass woman. Daniel shook his head, snorting at the unintended pun. Then for several moments he contemplated the exact dimensions and shape of the delectable ass in question.
“So how’s the little lady?” Rob cut into his thong-n-baby-oil daydream.
“Annoying.” Daniel scowled as he clipped the cell back on his belt. “Are we going to stand here yakking all day?” He bent and got a good hold on the newly delivered cabinet beside him.
Rob smirked, but squatted and grabbed the other end of the unit without further comment. “Ready?”
Daniel nodded. They rose in unison and walked the unit across what would be the recreation area of the basement renovation. Working efficiently with the ease of long practice, they secured the unit to the wall.
When they were through, Rob slapped him on the back. “You can’t say I’m just another pretty face.” He batted his long lashes, the ones all the ladies went ga-ga over, at Daniel.
Rob was about six-three and topped 230 pounds easy; with his wildly curling black hair and a neatly trimmed goatee, the eye-fuck was the stu
pidest damn thing Daniel had witnessed in a long while.
“No I can’t say that at all, partner.” He looked around. “Hey, didn’t we get those lights in?”
Rob pointed to a stack of boxes near the stairs, and the both of them headed over.
“So how is your favorite tenant?”
Rob used to pick his scabs as a kid. Now he metaphorically picked other people’s.
“It’s all your fault she’s on my case.”
“Whaddaya mean it’s my fault?”
“You said you’d take a look at her shower by Wednesday. And someone should’ve checked out the roof by now.”
“I’ll try and do it by the end of the week. Promise. Don’t know why I haven’t made it over yet. She’s kinda easy on the eyes.”
Daniel pushed aside the unease he felt at Rob’s speculative expression and pried open a corrugated box to inspect the fixtures. “She’s a looker all right. Too bad all you can look at are her tonsils ’cause her mouth is always flapping.”
Rob chuckled. “Sure you don’t want to go yourself? I thought I was picking up on something between the two of you.”
“Try picking your nose next time. Any heated glances she’s throwing my way would fall under the category of burn-in-hell. She acts as if I’m at her beck and call, like some kind of handyman.”
“You are some kind of handyman.”
“Hey, thanks for pointing that out.”
“I could also point out that you wouldn’t be dealing with tenant complaints if you got moving on the plans for the reno.”
“Yeah, well, you can blame my old man for that. He’s riding me hard on this last merger. Anything to delay me leaving. And every time I turn around lately, seems like something else is wrong with the Southview property.” Daniel shook his head. Of course he’d seen it happen time and again on other renovation projects. He’d just been hoping to hell it wouldn’t happen with this one. “I’ll get on with the plans for Southview soon. But we might as well keep the tenants for now to cover the mortgage payments.”
Rob shrugged and nodded, but Daniel could see his partner wasn’t totally convinced. He couldn’t blame him. If he were completely honest with himself, he’d admit that his foot dragging might have something to do with the kissable lips that made up the complaining mouth of one pain-in-the-ass tenant.
