Felicity Stripped Bare
Page 9
“You’ve turned my world upside down, you know that?”
“Good. I think your world needs some rocking.” Her voice was just as hoarse as his. Then she took his hand, the one resting on her arm and deliberately moved it to cover her breast. “Tonight,” she added, pressing his palm to her.
For the longest time they sat frozen, gazes tangled while the projection light flickered over their faces, telling a different story from the one that reeled out in the dark tense intimacy between them. Finally, his fingers pressed against her flesh—molding, squeezing, rubbing and rolling, until she melted into him. Felicity moaned, and he drank it down in a bruising kiss that promised much more than the spar and thrust of his tongue. Why, oh why, had she waited so long to take the initiative? They fumbled with buttons and zippers in the dark, and gasped for breath, and things became wet…soft… hard…harder.
And Lise was right about the black lace…
They must have parted, left the backseat and stumbled drunk with whipped-up need into the front. They must have buckled up the seatbelts and driven out of the lot onto the main street. Little tidbits of nonsense must have been exchanged during the trip back to her place. Who knew? Who cared? All she was certain of, as she climbed the stairs up to her flat, was that tonight dreams would come true.
Black and lacey. That’s what Daniel was remembering now as he followed the delectable swing of Felicity’s jean-clad ass up the stairs. The light from the movie screen shining through the fogged up windows of truck, the scents of leather, perfume and musky arousal saturating the damn air. The feel of her warm, slightly shivering body underneath his fingers as he pulled up her top to expose black lace. Then the lace was pushed aside to reveal…perfection. Full, creamy, honey-tinted flesh, tipped with erect dusky temptation.
Daniel’s mouth dried up, but he fought to hold onto his sanity, going over the words he’d rehearsed in his mind on the long drive over here. The words he had to say—should have said before. He only now understood the extent of his cowardice, and his feelings for Felicity. He’d been kidding himself, thinking she was just some female he only wanted to do. If she had been, the possibility of losing her wouldn’t be twisting this rusty blade of fear his gut.
They walked down the narrow hall, each footfall playing chance with creaky floorboards as their muted shadows undulated along the uneven walls in a slightly erotic dance. And the closer they got to her flat, the deeper their desire grew into a rich stew of anticipation and anxiety.
Felicity unlocked the door, trying to control the tremors that raced through her limbs. Then they were standing inside the small vestibule, facing each other, with too much to say and not enough words.
“So do you want to ravish me here or in the bedroom?” she joked, ready to snap into a million tiny pieces as Daniel continued his inscrutable totem routine. She was betting his expression wasn’t the only thing stiff on him.
His mouth slanted into smile, her heart tilted along with it and she reached out to him. Daniel captured her hand, softly kissing the palm.
“There’s some things we should talk about first,” he said, a bit hesitantly.
She understood. The whole birth-control thing was always a bit awkward. She started to confirm things were taken care of on her end, when he repeated himself. Then he averted his gaze as he took a step away from her.
His withdrawal and the peculiar note in his voice, made her ease back against the door, dread seeping into her belly. The look in his eyes chilled her even more. Oh shit.
A thousand penicillin-related things crossed her mind. “Okay.” Felicity cleared her throat and crossed her arms, wedging stiff fingers beneath her underarms. “So talk.”
Daniel raked both hands through his hair, a ruddy wash of color tinting his face. “I don’t know how to say this—” he broke off.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. “Just tell me,” she said; then her nerves stretched to breaking when he still didn’t say anything. “Say it!”
“I have to evict you.”
“Wait— What?” She pressed a fist to her stomach.
Daniel swore. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that—”
“I don’t understand…”
He dragged his hand through his hair again. “It’s not just you. All the tenants have to go. That was the original plan when I bought this place. Then things got out of hand…” His gaze focused on her mouth, making clear exactly what had gotten out of hand.
“I delayed it as long as I could, even toyed with the idea of changing my plans. But things have to go ahead.” He reached out, she flinched and his color deepened. “Notices will be in the mailboxes by the end of the week. I just wanted to tell you myself.”
“Why? So you could rub in the humiliation personally, in case you missed a spot?”
“No!”
She turned to fumble with the lock. “You can consider me told.”
Daniel’s hand closed over hers; the strength of his touch, the heat of his body, sucked the anger away. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His voice was barely more than a whisper stirring soft against her ear. “I’m sorry.” His voice went lower and she felt his lips press gently to her hair. Then he took hold of her shoulders and eased her around. “This is business. If it were up to me, I’d be locking you up in here, not asking you to leave.” He cradled her head in his hands, holding her gaze. “Hell, I’d never let you go,” he ground out.
Felicity searched Daniel’s expression. She must have been blind. Her mind playing stupid tricks on her. There was no softness here. Just lust. Her pain mutated into anger as she cursed herself a fool for wanting to believe in more.
“Don’t flatter yourself. How can you let me go, when you never had me?”
Releasing her, he held her gaze, then showed her for the liar she was as he dipped his head slowly, giving her ample opportunity to escape…if she wanted to.
His mouth brushed hers in the merest caress. “I want you.”
This must be what drowning feels like. It was so much harder to struggle than to just give in. And she was drowning—in the overwhelming need to be closer to him. Felicity twisted her head aside, eyes clenched tight as if not seeing him would make him, this moment, less real.
“That’s too bad, because I don’t want you,” she choked out.
“Is that why you’re rubbing up against me like you can’t wait to have it?” he murmured, rolling his hips until she gasped in pleasure.
His soft laughter made her curdle with shame of her weakness and his knowledge of it.
She jerked back, wanting to remove the self-satisfaction from his face. “Bastard.”
He caught her hand on the upswing, pressing the captured wrist against the door as he crowded her against the hard wood, sliding a thigh between her legs. Unable to stop the impulse, she rocked against his leg, feeling herself grow wetter. Then Daniel shifted slightly, pushing her up more fully against his erection and she heard herself moan like some animal in heat.
“Next time you call me a bastard, say it like you mean it,” he said hoarsely before he sealed his mouth to hers. She met him measure for measure, back arched, spinning out of control and needing much more than this.
“Felicity, do you know what you do to me?” he rasped, releasing her wrist before he buried his hands in her hair again, angling her head as he deepened the kiss. One hand swept down, fingernail scraping across a stiff aching nipple and she whimpered into his mouth as he cupped her. Touched and teased her. Stroking and squeezing. She started begging then, and he shushed her gently, trailing hot wet kisses and tiny love bites down her neck.
His lips blazed a path down over the curve of her breasts until his eager mouth fastened onto a hapless nipple through her cotton tank top and started sucking. Hard. Felicity’s legs gave out and she settled on his thigh, riding him for all she was worth, until sensation shot through her and she cried out.
Daniel raised his head, the curtain of his sun-bleached hair only partially concealing his st
ark expression. A vein pulsed at his brow, keeping time with her racing heart as their ragged breaths mingled.
The lazy turns of the ceiling fan behind him teased at her unfocused gaze, pulling Felicity back to the reality of the situation. She was pressed up against the front door, her skin a patchwork of cooling brands from his hot kisses, her hips still gyrating with the echoes of pleasure and practically begging him to do her on the spot.
Dazed, she watched as he lowered his mouth towards hers again. More of his kisses and she’d be lost, letting him do what her body was craved most. But as his tongue licked against her parted lips, she tasted bitterness on her own and something withered deep down inside her. She didn’t want to be fucked. She wanted to be loved. With one last desperate cry, Felicity shoved him away.
“I want you to leave.” The words tumbled from her broken, the way she felt. The way her dreams felt. She shoved at him again, feeling trapped by his warmth, by the need that still ran hot in her veins for him. When he eased away, she brushed past him and stumbled across the room. She barely heard the door snap shut behind him.
Felicity threw herself down on the unmade bed, hugging a pillow tightly to her chest as great, heaving, sobs wracked through her. In time her tears dried, dwindling to soft hiccups and she sat up, scrubbing at her face with the heels of her palms as she tried to organize her thoughts on what had to be done. Should be easy enough, it was a routine she had down cold by now. Seemed she was always starting all over again with relationships, jobs, homes.
But this place had seemed different from the beginning. She’d known right away when she saw the dormer windows of this bedroom, that this was part of her fairytale——the little girl’s room in the turret. This was her home. She’d chosen it. Now he’d taken that away from her, and so much more.
She couldn’t be as detached as Daniel. It was just business he’d said. But it felt like betrayal.
Chapter Nine
Wincing at the shrill chirps of early-worm eaters, Felicity squinted up at a perfect summer sky, where wispy clouds traced curlicue patterns for a playful eye. Her? She’d just as soon poke that playful eye out with a sharp stick.
She went down the verandah stairs, sliding on sunglasses against the piss-yellow sun that shone so spitefully bright. Felicity didn’t want to go to work today, didn’t want to do anything except feel sorry for herself.
Sorry fact number one: The chances of finding an affordable rental that wasn’t located at the corner of Tight Butt and Hard Poke were slim to none, judging by the classifieds she’d made her torturous way through over the last two days.
Sorry fact number two: She had no savings—so no first and last month’s rent or moving costs.
Sorry fact number three—
The powerful rumble of an approaching car broke into her miserable musings and she whipped around, heart thudding. Her pulse settled when she saw a low-slung sports car instead of the big black truck she both feared and hoped for.
But as the silver Porsche cruised by, Felicity caught a glimpse of the driver, and if she’d been married to a man named Lot the effect couldn’t have been more pronounced. She stood rooted on the spot, a pillar of dread, as the car pulled up to the curb. Seconds later Daniel exited.
Except this was a Daniel she hadn’t seen before. He wore a snowy white shirt, dark tie and a charcoal-colored suit that fit his body with tailored elegance. His ponytail was more severely drawn back, matching his somber expression and adding an edge to his businesslike image.
Her hungry gaze roamed over him. There were new lines etched on either side of his mouth and smudges under his eyes that turned them to the darkest green. She felt a twinge of yearning that she quickly thwacked with self-disgust. Hello? Bad-guy, remember?
Daniel approached slowly. “You haven’t returned my phone calls.”
“We have nothing more to discuss.”
“I owe you an apology.”
“Accepted.” Felicity nodded and attempted to walk around him, but he placed his hand lightly on her arm, halting her. She flinched and he let go.
“Do you? I can’t blame you if don’t. You were right, I’m an asshole and any other name in the book you want to call me.”
Just what she always wanted: a Noble Daniel action figure. Felicity decided to end this before he got to the rending-of-garments stage.
“Look, what’s done is done. Let’s just leave it at that.”
He shifted closer. “And what if I don’t want to leave it, what we had?”
A part of her wrapped itself around his words, but the other part cringed at the memory of every single kiss and touch that had peeled away layer after layer of her self, until there was nothing left but the realization that he’d gotten past all her defenses.
Throat working, a continuous swallow of endless pain, she choked out, “I trusted you.”
He winced, but he tipped her chin up, removing her sunglasses with his other hand at the same time. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “There just never seemed to be a good time to tell you about my plans.”
“And what if we’d slept together, Daniel, when would have been a good time then?”
His expression said it all; she stepped back.
“That’s what I thought. Could you move out of my way—”
“Okay, I already said I was a jerk.” He grasped her arm again. “But I never hid the fact that I wanted you, Felicity,” He went on in a low whispered rush. “Like I’ve never wanted another woman. It overrode my better judgment and complicated things. I’m sorry for that. But I’m not sorry for wanting to be with you.”
She struggled for breath as all her senses were hijacked by the heat of his gaze, the possession in his touch. “What you want? Well it’s not all about you, Daniel.” She yanked her arm away. Hate spurted up and so did the need to hurt him, make him pay. For his wanting and making her want in return. For making her believe.
“I’m fighting this.” The words popped out of her mouth, but the minute they did a sense of power surged through her. “I’m fighting you. I’m not moving.”
“Don’t be stupid—”
“I am not stupid! Don’t call me that,” she shouted. “I may have been a fool…” She trailed off, because she still was. Because it was unbearable to look at him, at that mouth and know the devastating pleasure it could bring. At his eyes and remember how it felt to lose herself in their warmth. Those eyes were cold now.
“You can’t win,” he said, his voice shards of ice.
“Just watch me.”
Daniel straightened his tie, there was a flash of emotion in his gaze that could have been sadness. Most likely it was pity, because he said without a hint of his earlier softness, “The Notice of Termination will be in your mailbox tomorrow.” He handed back her glasses.
“Bastard.”
He quirked a brow and shook a finger at her. “You know, I think you’re trying to tell me something.” He turned abruptly and strode back to the Porsche. “You have sixty days to vacate the premises, Felicity.”
“Don’t count on me going anywhere.”
“Under other circumstances, those words would be music to my ears.” His grin was hard, his gaze burning, stripping her naked where she stood. Felicity crossed her arms around herself and his mask fell back in place.
“Sixty days,” he repeated and slid behind the wheel.
Moments later the car tore down the street, leaving her even more ticked—he gets the last word and the grand exit in the friggin’ Porsche? Frug!
***
She’d been rash. She squirmed with the memory now. It was a small wonder Daniel hadn’t laughed in her face when she’d issued her challenge. Now, with several minutes until the end of her break, Felicity perched on the freezer in the back change room, nibbling on a hangnail as she waited for Cheryl.
A couple of hours of trampling across sticky gray carpeting, serving beers to men with equally sticky fingers, had a way of focusing this girl’s mind.
She needed money, lots of it and fast. So she’d come up with a plan, because desperate times called for desperate measures, right? She squealed when the door suddenly opened.
“Well the hell with you too, chickee,” Cheryl said, walking over to the vanity.
Felicity let out a little nervous laugh. “Sorry, I was thinking.”
“Sounds painful.” Cheryl’s wry gaze met hers in the mirror.
There was no time like the present. Felicity braced herself, squeezing her eyes shut. “Cheryl, I want to strip” is what she meant to say. What actually came out sounded like, “Shariwannastrip”, on helium.
“You want to share what?” Cheryl froze mid-lip gloss application.
“I. Want. To. Strip.”
“That’s what I thought you said. Are you out of your fool mind?” Cheryl spun round, arms akimbo and looking magnificent in her electric blue lingerie set.
“No you don’t want to strip. Get up off of that freezer right now—the cold must be traveling up your butt and giving you a brain cramp.”
“I’m serious.”
“Girl, I will use your head like it’s a tambourine and I just found salvation. Hopefully knock some sense into you.”
Felicity jutted her chin out.
Cheryl threw up her arms. “Then strip at home before you take a shower. Or strip the sheets off your bed. But,” she pointed at Felicity, “if I ever see you up on that stage? The only thing that’s gonna be stripping, is skin offa your backside.”
“Is it so bad then?” she asked weakly.
Cheryl sighed and crossed the room. “Move over.” When Felicity shifted, she climbed up beside her.
“What’s the story?”
Felicity told her.
“That bastard!” Then as she stared into Felicity’s eyes, her expression softened. “You okay?”
“Getting there, but that’s why I want to try dancing. I need the cash.”
“Have you thought about a roommate?”
Felicity thought about her past adventures in flat sharing. The constant guarding against a slip-up that would betray her. The inevitably pitying looks, and whispered ridicule, her stomach cramped. Not to mention the lack of privacy, and let’s not forget the deadbeats who were always late with their half of the rent. Who mooched your food and borrowed your clothes, returning them weeks later with mysterious stains. Forget it.