Manhandling

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Manhandling Page 6

by Karen Anders


  She set the cup down on a coaster on the small end table. Cupping his face, she smiled, dazzling him.

  “It was wonderful. You gave me everything I could have hoped for. It’s been a while for me. Dating and men haven’t been a priority for me since I’ve been trying to make partner at Waterford Scott.”

  “I’m sure that corporate-ladder climbing is important, but, Laurel, a beautiful, desirable woman like you shouldn’t bog yourself down with work. Is that why you came looking for me?” He didn’t know how he wanted her to answer, he knew why she came looking for him, but he hoped she was seeing less of the bad boy and more of Mac.

  “Partly. I’ve been pretty good all my life and I wanted to see how the other half lived. Promise me something.” She looked at him from under her lashes, mischief shining in her eyes.

  “What?” he asked warily.

  “That you won’t laugh.”

  He grinned then. “Why would I do that?”

  She nudged him. “I’m going to tell you something embarrassing.”

  He wiped the grin off his face. “Okay. I won’t laugh.”

  “The real reason I went looking for you was that I took this quiz in SPICE magazine.”

  “What quiz?” he asked nonchalantly, his stomach tightening.

  “Who’s Your Hottie?”

  “I’m your hottie?”

  “Yes—”

  He started to laugh and Laurel put her hand over his mouth, laughing herself.

  “You promised you wouldn’t.”

  He kissed her palm and she laughed harder.

  “Now, I want to ask you something important, so get serious,” she said, trying to keep a straight face.

  “Okay.”

  “My brother’s wife is the editor of SPICE and she wants me to attend a party the magazine is going to throw. Interested in being my hottie escort?”

  This was probably a really bad idea, but her adorable, pleading eyes made him forget everything but doing as she asked. “Do I have to wear a tux?”

  “No. That’s the beauty of it. You can wear what you normally wear. They want to showcase the Who’s Your Hottie? quiz for publicity. Do you mind?”

  “No. I’ll go with you.”

  “Now you tell me one thing that you’d be embarrassed if someone knew.”

  He smiled. “You’ve got to promise never to tell.”

  “I promise.”

  “I rent Kung Fu B-movies and go over to my grandmother’s house and we watch them together.”

  She covered her mouth and laughed. “You do not.”

  “Do. She loves them.”

  “You love them, too,” she accused.

  He stared at her a moment, then a slow smile creased his cheeks. “I do,” he admitted just to see her smile again. “Does it tarnish my bad-boy image?”

  “Maybe just a little.” Do you want to go upstairs?”

  “I’d better get going,” he said and winced inside. He really wanted to go back to bed with her, but he knew what was required of his new persona.

  “All right.”

  She got up from the couch. He followed her to the entryway, his eyes drawn to the sexy way she moved her hips as she walked, breathing in the heady fragrance of a desirable, willing woman.

  In the hall, he picked up his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. She was already holding his leather jacket. He took it from her and slipped it on. She watched him keenly, with sensual brown eyes that seemed to consume him.

  She took a step, brushing against him to open the door, but before she could complete the move, he lost the battle with himself and he pulled her up against him, his mouth finding her lips soft and inviting.

  Laurel sighed, her body molding to him as she sank against his chest, her groin resting against the plackard of his jeans. She pressed hard against his mouth, using body language to tell him that she didn’t want him to go.

  An involuntary groan escaped him. He wanted nothing more than to strip her out of her sexy clothes, press her against the wall and take what she was so eagerly offered. Every nerve ending in his body was on fire, pulsing to the beat of his heart.

  Through the haze he remembered why he was doing this. It was a long-term plan. If he didn’t let her go now, he was never going to be able to. His raging hormones would take over and he’d break an important rule.

  Rules were made to be broken, he thought, but not this one. He had to handle everything correctly.

  He pulled his mouth away from her tempting lips, and saw the anticipation in her sexy eyes, an ardent need. He took a much needed step away from her.

  “I’m outa here,” he said, his tone gruff.

  She licked her lower lip, and, gracefully accepting his decision, opened the door for him. “See you.”

  Her eyes captured him, dark deep pools that riveted him to the spot, and he lingered, unable to leave her gaze. “So long,” he said, and hightailed it before he changed his mind.

  5

  It’s hardest for you to resist:

  a. dessert

  b. gossip

  c. shopping

  d. sex

  —Excerpt from Who’s Your Hottie? quiz,

  SPICE magazine

  “NICE SHINER. What the hell happened to you?” Green eyes, almost identical to his own blue, scrutinized him.

  “Give me a beer,” Mac demanded, pushing his way past Tyler. After leaving Laurel, Mac had gone to his brother’s apartment in lower Manhattan. Tyler could afford a pricey loft like Mac, but preferred not to.

  “Mac…”

  “Now, Tyler.”

  They made their way to the kitchen. Mac sat down at the table and ran a hand through his hair. His brother grabbed a cold one out of the fridge and set it down in front of him before he swung a chair around and sat.

  “So what happened?” Tyler took a sip of his own brew and leaned back preparing to wait patiently.

  Mac grabbed the bottle and took a gulp. “I took her to a biker bar and got into a fight.”

  Tyler’s mouth quirked in amusement. “I’d hate to see the other guy.”

  “Yeah. He looks worse for wear.”

  “Sounds like you enjoyed yourself.”

  “I did. It was exciting. I’ve never experienced that before. Although I have no idea how I’m going to explain this black eye.” He shot his brother an amused look.

  “Okay, so did the chick get pissed and drop you?”

  Mac shifted in his seat, a bundle of pent-up restless energy. “No. On the contrary, it turned her on.”

  “You’re kidding me. You already…”

  “She’s damned amazing.” Mac wasn’t going to give any kind of detailed report. He wasn’t the kind of man to kiss and tell, no matter what role he was playing for Laurel’s benefit.

  “So what are you doing here?”

  “I’m acting like a no-commitment bad boy, just like she expects me to.”

  “You left her?”

  He kept staring straight ahead and nodded.

  “Did you want to leave?”

  “Hell, no. I hate games.” With a painful twang of his heart, he knew he wanted to see this woman again, but he couldn’t let her know it. I don’t want to hurt Laurel, but I’m supposed to skip out after making love with her, right?”

  Tyler sighed. “You’re right. It’s the kind of thing a bad boy would do. But it’s not really the kind of thing you would do.”

  “I feel like a total jerk.” Especially about making love to her. It was dangerous to get so intimate the first time you were with a woman.

  “I say go with your gut on this. It hasn’t failed you yet.”

  “I should go home. Thanks for the beer.”

  “No problem. Hey, we can have lunch later if you want.”

  “Right, and it’s on you, Sensei, for getting me into this mess in the first place.”

  “McDonald’s it is, grasshopper.”

  “Cheapskate,” Mac muttered with a smile.

  As he made his way down th
e stairs, Mac knew it was no use. He couldn’t keep away from her.

  THE SOUND OF a car alarm woke her. She rolled over, her eyes flickered open at the noise. She lay still for a moment, groggily assessing her surroundings.

  Pushing her tousled hair back, Laurel paused for a moment as her fingers caught in a knot. She worked it free. When she disentangled herself from the bed sheet, her eyes came fully open.

  She came completely awake, but her memory was still full of Mac and last night. She went to the closet and took out a colorful Japanese-style robe and slipped it on, tying it quickly.

  Walking over to the window, she released a breath, leaning weakly against the window jamb. Mac. The emotions churned like a whirlpool within her, each one receding to be replaced with the next. Embarrassment, shock, and sweet slivers of delight accompanied each mental fragment. She’d acted completely out of character. Her senses had been altered, and wasn’t it glorious? Her eyes slid shut, seeing again that flash of hunger on his face, so sharp and keen it had pierced her, as well. For that one second, just for an instant, she’d caught sight of a flash of guilt mingled with a pleasure so intense it had taken her breath away.

  She had no regrets about initiating and participating so fully in such decadence. Maybe there was something more compelling than the sight of a man, looking like he’d die for the chance to touch her, but she couldn’t imagine it. It had been enthralling, tempting and so sexy that even the memory had the power to send fresh shivers through her.

  Her eyes opened and her head tipped back. She could be dishonest with herself and pretend that it was just a one-night stand, but for her it hadn’t felt that illusive. It had happened because she’d wanted it to. And Mac was more, so much more. Could their affair really progress to something permanent?

  Touching him had been an incredible high. Running her hands over that broad torso, freely examining the jut of his erection as she wanted to.

  There hadn’t been any romantic props and none were required. Just need, edgy and fierce, which had passed from her to Mac and back again. She’d never before experienced a joining so urgent that it turned to roughness, from a man visibly fighting his control.

  Although she could feel her face wash hotly at the recollection, she’d enjoyed tempting Mac to give up that control, and had reveled with him in its loss.

  Her arms slipped around her waist and hugged tight. If she tried hard enough, she could almost feel the assured clasp of Mac’s arms.

  She didn’t hold his leaving against him. She knew what she was getting herself into when she’d hooked up with a bad boy, so she had no one to blame but herself.

  Why had he left? she wondered.

  A splinter of unease stabbed through her. It was Sunday, so neither of them had to work, unless, of course, he’d had to go to the bike shop. That was a possibility. But the longer she thought about it, the more troubled she grew.

  What if he hadn’t left because he had to, but because he wanted to?

  Maybe last night hadn’t meant anything at all. She took a deep breath. Well, either way, she would weather it the best she could. Besides, she told herself sternly, she couldn’t fall for him. He was a coming of age, a rebellion, a stopgap until she found the right guy.

  Mac’s brother had been right. He wasn’t the kind of man she could bring home to her father.

  She turned away from the window and walked back to her closet.

  She would go to Cranberry and start a new project. It would keep her mind off Mac. It was no hardship to return to her favorite place. Just then, she heard the phone ring. Her heart leapt in her chest. Mac!

  But when she picked up the receiver Haley’s cheery voice came over the line.

  “Hi, Laurel. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed your Kenneth Cole for the Met tomorrow. I don’t have time to shop.”

  “No problem. Just let yourself in. I’m about to go out.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Oh, uh, by the way, my hottie and I will be attending the SPICE party, just let me know the particulars.”

  “Great. I ran it by my staff and they’re all for it. My Web mistress will put the invitation on the Web site on Monday. You, me and Dylan are still meeting for lunch on Monday to discuss your mom’s memorial, right?”

  “Yes. If my plans change, I’ll call. Bye.”

  Laurel replaced the receiver, disappointed that it hadn’t been Mac. She dressed in a frayed work shirt and overalls with tears at the knees. Grabbing up her purse, she went down to the foyer. Just as she was about to open the door, she spied a shiny object near her planter. Bending down, she scooped up the item. It was a handheld PC and Laurel frowned. Who could this belong to?

  Then her confusion cleared. It had to be Mac’s. Strange device for a mechanic to carry, but you didn’t have to have a nerdy job to be a computer geek, she thought. She dropped the device in her purse and went out the door.

  MAC AND TYLER WERE just finishing up lunch, when Tyler said, “Do you have your schedule for next week? I’d really like your help at the rally.”

  Mac put his hand in his jacket pocket looking for his handheld PC, but came up empty.

  “Damn,” he muttered.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I think…I dropped it at Laurel’s. If she opens it—”

  “She’ll know.”

  “I’d better get over there now.”

  Uncertain whether going back was the bad-boy thing to do or not, he figured he had no choice. He wasn’t quite ready for the truth to come out.

  He arrived at Laurel’s in record time. Knocking, Mac fidgeted, unable to wait until she opened the door.

  It would be a disaster if she found out about him now. He wanted the opportunity to know her better, especially after last night. He had every intention of telling her when the time was right.

  This wasn’t it.

  When the door opened, it wasn’t Laurel who stood there. A very beautiful blond woman, clutching a black-lace dress looked at him quizzically, then her face cleared.

  “You’re looking for Laurel, I’ll bet. Sorry to disappoint you. I’m her sister-in-law, Haley.”

  “She’s not here?”

  “No. She had to go out.”

  “Do you know where?”

  “Sorry. She didn’t say, but we do find it odd that she disappears on the weekends without telling anyone where she’s going, even her friends. I could try her on her cell.”

  “Would you, please?”

  Laurel had a secret, Mac thought, as he waited for Haley to complete the call. He wondered what it could be. What could that innocent, unassuming girl be doing behind her family’s back? It added another layer to an already fascinating person.

  “I’m sorry,” Haley said, “she’s not answering.”

  With any luck, the darn thing was still here. “Look, I left something here last night. Could I come in and look around for it?”

  “I don’t know. Laurel’s not home.”

  “I promise that I’ll be quick, if you don’t mind waiting. It is important.”

  “Well, okay, but if you could hurry, I have more errands to run.”

  Mac stepped over the threshold. He wasn’t exactly sure where the PC would be, but it had to be somewhere nearby.

  He scanned the floor and looked under the bench Laurel had there, but he couldn’t find it. “Damn.”

  “No luck?”

  “No. Do you know when she’ll be back?”

  “Oh, no. You’ve got to go.” Haley grabbed his arm and steered him to the door.

  “Why?”

  “That’s Laurel’s father in the driveway and I don’t think you’ll want to explain anything to him.”

  The coffee he’d drunk at lunch went sour in his gut. Crap. He was in for it now. “You got that right,” he said to Haley. “Nice to meet you.”

  He slipped on his sunglasses and made his way quickly out the door and down the stairs. Just as he reached his bike, he could hear Mr. Malone ask who h
e was. Haley’s answer was lost in the revving of his engine. He sped away from the curb feeling as if he’d just dodged a bullet.

  LAUREL STRETCHED the electric-blue fabric, with tiny silver circles, over the frame she’d built for the sofa. She’d painted the wood silver and the contrast of the fabric and paint gave her exactly the effect she’d hoped for.

  Busy almost all day with her project, so much so, she’d ignored all her calls. She welcomed the diversion of carpentry, paint and fabric. Shutting out the rest of the world was why she’d come to Cranberry in the first place. But she couldn’t seem to escape her thoughts. She’d spent too much time thinking after Mac had left her brownstone—thinking about the incredible hot sex they’d shared and how good it had felt to let go in a way she’d never done before. She’d held nothing back, mainly because Mac had been so receptive to her demanding moves. She’d been bold and dominant; he’d been generous with his body. She smiled secretly to herself, thinking about how greedy and utterly shameless she’d been. Not that Mac seemed to mind at all.

  Despite how tired she’d been after their time together, she’d tossed and turned for a while, as her mind replayed the conversation with Mac about her mother—an intimate conversation, one she’d never intended to have with him. Odd that it would seem as if he knew her mother. And his explanation about seeing her donation in the newspaper just didn’t ring true.

  But her relationship with Mac was short-term and purely physical and, out of self-preservation, shouldn’t have crossed over into anything emotional or personal.

  Yes, he’d been persistent, but she could have refused to talk if she’d really wanted to. Instead, she’d allowed herself to be swayed by his questions, willingly so with that deep, mesmerizing voice of his, his soothing touch, and the genuine interest she’d seen in his eyes. It had been so easy to open up to him, to reveal details of her and her mother that should have remained private. It had been so long since a man had made her the sole focus of his attention and treated her as if he really cared about what she had to say, and she’d taken advantage of Mac’s listening ear. After giving away so much about herself, she was now doubly curious about him, especially, as she glanced at her purse on the workbench, about the handheld PC she’d found in her foyer this morning.

 

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