Sexy in the City

by Alexia Adams, Galen Rose, Samantha Anne, Carolann Camillo, Nicole Flockton, Iris Leach, Olivia Logan, Nancy Loyan, Stephanie Cage (epub)

  “You find me demanding?” Molly resisted the temptation to fan herself with a file folder.

  “That sounds a little strong. Let’s just say — determined.”

  The very word she’d used to describe him to her Aunt Vi.

  He uncrossed his arms. One settled along the upper curve of the steering wheel, the other across his seat back. Corded muscles flexed under the sleeves of his T-shirt. Ditto where the cotton fabric stretched across his chest. The car didn’t seem ample enough to contain his broad shoulders and long-legged, well-proportioned frame. His gaze held hers, and she didn’t need Dominique’s Ouija board to prove that, under other circumstances, she could become hardcore attracted to him.

  “What’s wrong with determination?” she said.

  “Nothing, if it isn’t taken to extremes.”

  His upper and lower lips were equally full. Like the Michelangelo sculpture of David. The one with what seemed like a larger than life hand. She couldn’t remember how far the sculptor went with the shepherd’s other parts.

  “Do you?” she asked.

  “Do I what?”

  “Take things to extremes?”

  “Sometimes. Especially in my work.”

  At the mention of work, his eyes became animated like a chocoholic’s might when about to dig into a taxi-sized Hershey bar.

  “How did you get into building condos, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “It was a natural progression.”

  “Starting when?”

  “It started when I was a kid. My folks stored some lumber in the basement. One day I dragged it outside into the backyard. I built a fort — worked at it every day after school and on weekends.”

  Of course. What good was a Commando without a fort?

  “I always liked using my hands.”

  Her gaze flicked to his long fingers. They appeared strong enough to wrestle with a steel beam. Probably, they could be gentle enough, too, with a woman.

  “It still amazes my parents and just about everyone who knows me that I traded in a business degree for a hard hat and a tool belt. I tried the office route for two years and found it suffocating. I liked the freedom of working out in the open.” He shrugged. “I still like to crawl around a building site, but creating new projects excites me much more these days.”

  Molly thought about her little cubbyhole of an office. Most of the time she was so busy, she never noticed the limited proportions. She couldn’t imagine Nick stuck in a room even twice as big in size.

  “Obviously, you enjoy building. How else do you become a condo king?”

  His mouth opened and a frown pulled at his brows. “Where did you get that from?”

  “The Chronicle. Last month, an article outlined how building green caught on really big in the city and ways in which it protects the environment. Your name was mentioned a couple of times. It’s an interesting concept. I read recently where Pacific Gas and Electric has started a drive to erase our carbon footprints.”

  “Going green is the future. Not just in San Francisco. I intend to incorporate whatever aspects are available to use in my current project. The one you’d like to torpedo.” He grinned as if a sunny smile could take away the sting.

  She let it pass. “What aspects?”

  “The plan is to collect rain water for use in the air-conditioning system, use recycled wood and coated glass to keep heat in and solar radiation out. It’s more expensive but worth every cent in the end. It’s not only environmentally friendly, it cuts down on monthly bills for the prospective buyers. Don’t get me started on any aspects of building green, though. It’s one of my passions, and I tend to go on too long. Condo king is an exaggeration. It’s nothing I aspire to, anyway. My main goal isn’t making money.”

  “No?”

  “My goal is to find out what people want and need and then provide it. I never gouge the tenants on my rental properties. I keep the rents affordable, rarely raise them, and hardly ever lose a tenant. The city has changed and, in many ways, for the better. I just want to take a small part and create a more enriching future for people who choose to live here. I’d like to make urban living a little more pleasant and a lot more available.”

  The man certainly had a passion, not only for sparing the environment, but for his work. Now if he could only extend that to Mrs. Z and the other occupants of his apartment building.

  “What about your tenants? They can’t afford condos.”

  “True. That’s why we’re on the prowl today. To find out what’s affordable.”

  “Exactly. Since we’re on the subject of what is or isn’t affordable, there’s a rumor floating around on the block … ”

  “There is? Hmm. For some reason, I never would have taken you for a woman who put much stock in rumors.”

  “Well, generally, I don’t.”

  “Or spreading them.”

  “I never do.”

  “Good. Neither do I.” He checked his watch. “It’s almost eleven thirty. Maybe we should wait across the street. I’d hate to miss this guy. He said he owns a couple of other buildings, too. If he has a few more vacancies, it could turn into a big plus. We can network.”

  The way he so effectively quashed her mention of a rumor led Molly to believe it contained some truth. For sure, she’d better find a way to bring it up again later.

  At the first break in traffic, Nick exited on the street side. Molly slung her purse strap over her shoulder, put her folders on the floor mat, and opened the passenger door. By the time she swung her legs out Nick stood at the curb and offered a hand. His fingers grasped hers and he gave a gentle tug that brought her up and out of her seat and into his arms. One arm, anyway, since he still clutched her hand. They stood like that for what seemed like an unnecessary length of time. Close enough, too, for the tingle to shoot back into her heels. It marched up her legs and, somehow, she found the good sense to quash it at her knees.

  Finally, he stepped back and released her.

  Her heels screamed for additional gratification, and she dug them into the sidewalk.

  He ignored the crosswalk at the corner. When there was a lull in traffic, he took her arm and jaywalked her quickly to the opposite side of the street. When they arrived at the apartment building, he led her into a narrow setback formed by the front door and two shallow walls. Chips in the dark paint exposed an undercoat of gray. Candy wrappers, an empty soda can, and assorted flyers and newspaper flotsam littered the floor.

  “Listen, I think there’s something I better tell you before this guy shows up.”

  The words, coupled with the tone of his voice, put her internal radar on alert. “What’s that?”

  “He … ah … ” He bit down on the inside of his lower lip and appeared to wince.

  “Yes?”

  He came up slightly onto the balls of his feet, then set his heels down. “He thinks we’re married.”

  “What?” Dim light suffused the doorway, and she gazed up at him through a web of shadows. “How did he get such a weird idea?”

  “When I phoned him, he asked if only I was interested in the apartment, or if I planned to move in with a wife. Before I had a chance to think, I said I didn’t have a wife. Then I remembered you.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, we’d be checking it out together. After I screwed up the ‘no wife’ bit, I wasn’t sure how to explain you.”

  “Was an explanation necessary?”

  “I thought you might think so.”

  “In that case, you could have told him I was your sister.”

  He cocked his head, pressed his lips together, and frowned.

  “Okay, he wouldn’t believe we were related.”

  “Not even for a second.” His featured relaxed, and he shrugged and smiled.

&nb
sp; “Why didn’t you say you were bringing a friend?”

  “Listen, I didn’t have a lot of time to come up with anything creative. I thought it was important to protect you.”

  “Really? How?”

  “I didn’t want to give him the impression you were a … a shack up.”

  “A shack up?”

  “Look. Landlords aren’t stupid. They want to know how many people will occupy their units. Once he saw us, he’d assume we were both moving in. I thought you’d be more comfortable showing up with a man you’d only just met — me — if the guy thought we were married instead of … you know … living together. You having worked in social services and running a clinic, I wasn’t sure about your views on, eh, shacking up. So I said we’d just gotten back from the honeymoon, it was all so new I forgot for a second we were married.” Innocence flickered behind his eyes. His bottom lip curved down as if in apology.

  Molly leaned against the slots cut into the metal plate that protected the mailboxes. He was right about the shacking up part being a bad fit. Three boyfriends back, she’d almost been pressured into it. When she’d said no, the boyfriend took a hike.

  “Maybe I made a mistake. If the owner mentions anything, I’ll say he must have misunderstood.”

  “Great, and then I’m left with being your shack up and getting leered at by some oily slumlord.”

  “Look, I’m sorry I goofed. But the guy wants to rent this apartment. He’ll know better than to leer. Why would you assume he’s a slumlord?”

  “Well, just look at this place.”

  Nick rubbed the back of his neck. “Would you rather wait in the car?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t you trust me?”

  She let him glean the answer from her expression.

  “Okay. Lack of trust noted.” He checked his watch. “It’s your call. You better make it quick. Either we took a trip to the altar or we’ve slept together without the benefit of marriage.” Molly felt her eyes roll up in her head. Any farther and there was a chance she could have examined her own brain. She groaned. “Maybe we should scratch this one.”

  “It’s too late.”

  “We could check out some of the possibilities I’ve come across.” She took a step toward the sidewalk.

  He grabbed her elbow and reeled her back in. “Are you always so stubborn?” Impatience flared in his eyes.

  “No. Well, almost never.”

  “Look, don’t you think for, maybe, twenty minutes you could act married?”

  “You mean to an almost perfect stranger?”

  He brushed a corkscrew curl off her cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “I don’t consider myself a stranger. Or perfect.”

  That was for sure.

  His impatience died under a self-effacing grin.

  “I’m anything but an accomplished actress. In third grade, I played a gumdrop in the class production of Hansel and Gretel.”

  He braced his hand against the wall directly above her shoulder and leaned in. “That doesn’t matter. I’ll take the lead.”

  “Oh, you know how? Why? Are you married?”

  He shook his head. “No. Never came close. You?”

  “No.”

  “You’ve considered it, though. Am I right?”

  Molly frowned and shook her head. What did he care if she’d had one foot at the marriage altar?

  He let go of the wall and took both her hands in his. He laced his fingers through hers and held her arms steady at her sides. The touch of his skin against hers sent goose bumps along her arms and a different kind of shiver down her back, the kind that resulted from contact with a gorgeous hunk of a man. Wouldn’t you know it? In this case, he was the wrong hunk of a man.

  “We can pull this off,” he said.

  She tried to free her hands, but he held them captive. “I have many doubts. As in too many.”

  “What we need is a practice run.” Humor lurked behind his irises.

  “Practice?”

  “Sure. To make it convincing, like we’ve been together a while, like we’ve been … close … you know, intimate. Remember the honeymoon?”

  She wondered if he’d smoked something funny at his parents’ house. Except everyone there looked like they’d just flown in from a papal convention.

  “Are you making this up?”

  His soft laugh filled the small enclosure. “Sweetie, I wish I were. But I’m not, so let’s cement the deal.” The humor left his eyes, and his mouth descended on hers.

  Molly made a concerted effort to free her hands, even as she parted her lips. His mouth felt warm against hers, and the way he kissed showed he was not at all self-conscious about doing it practically in public. Then he let go of her hands and slid his up her sides. That sent a flutter into her stomach. She shivered as his long fingers ranged over her back and onto her shoulders. Right about now her “stop” button should have screamed like an alarm gone berserk, but it jammed just about the time he got her lips farther apart and slipped in the tip of his tongue. The remnants of something sweet lingered. Pepsi, maybe. He probably drank some at brunch.

  Her skin prickled as his fingertips slid along her neck and through her hair. He cradled her head in a gentle grip, one she probably could have squirmed away from if she wanted to, but she didn’t want to. Heat slid down her chest and into her stomach and folded into a tiny corner where she stored those kinds of stimuli.

  Molly placed her palms against his chest. Muscles bunched under his T-shirt and proved steely-hard beneath her probing fingers. His mouth moved against hers, and she gave in totally to being possessed. His breath touched her cheek, hot and steady. His tongue slid against hers and sent her body heat into a torrid zone that lately had existed only in her imagination. Talk about adding a few extra z’s to sizzle. This was insane. She was standing here practically in full view and kissing an almost total stranger and letting him do whatever he wanted with his hands, lips, and tongue. From her scalp to her toes, Nick lit her fire. If he didn’t quit soon, all he’d find was a small pile of ash where she once stood. A moan come from deep inside her. When had she become such an easy target?

  He ended the kiss. Her eyes were Elmer’s glued to his. Her lips felt like they were pumped full of some sort of puffy stuff.

  “See, you’re a better actress than you thought.” The honey-smooth seduction in his tone turned her breathing into an Olympic-sized operation.

  His breath continued to warm her cheek and the glow didn’t stop anywhere near there. It moved in waves throughout her body. She touched her upper lip with the tip of her tongue and almost expected a puff of steam to billow from the spot.

  Had she gone along so as not to cause a scene? She didn’t think so. Not with the depth of emotion she’d put into the kiss. She never even kissed on a first date, which she didn’t consider prudish, but smart — just in case the guy didn’t call again. So why had she locked lips with Nick Mancini like they were two dates short of being anointed a couple? What kind of woman did that? The words “needy” and “dumb” came to mind. And since he’d ended the kiss, she added “vulnerable” and “weak.”

  She tore her gaze away from Nick’s. She figured him for a player. Why else would he have kissed her like that without a good reason, without any reason except he wanted to? Molly hated to think what might have happened if he’d tried to get more intimate. Also, forget protecting her reputation or any of his other baloney about putting up a good front for the landlord vis-à-vis their supposed marriage. Marriage. As if it weren’t bad enough that she’d enjoyed the kiss, and wouldn’t have objected to a longer one, he knew she’d liked it.

  Oh, he was a player all right. Which posed the next question: Where would she find the fortitude to kick him off limits if he wanted to play with her again?

  Chapter 7
>
  “You must be the Mancinis.”

  Nick angled his head toward the sidewalk. A man of average height, weight, and skin tone stood in the doorway. No gangster-sized cigar sticking out of his mouth, or rumpled suit. He spoke in a clear, businesslike tone. Although the building needed repairs, he didn’t put this guy together with Molly’s conception of a “slumlord.”

  “Yeah. Nick Mancini. I spoke with you yesterday on the phone.” He extended his hand. “This is Molly.”

  “Mrs. Mancini. Pleasure to meet you.” The landlord ignored Nick and steered an outstretched hand in Molly’s direction.

  She barely managed a nod, no less a handshake. Her lack of enthusiasm didn’t seem to faze the landlord who gave her a slow up and down body search with his eyes. Nick stepped in between them and cut off the man’s view just as it began to descend again from the V in Molly’s blouse. Still, who was he to cast blame? He’d taken a little body inventory of her, too, along with the liberty of a kiss. At least he never leered.

  He cut a sideways glance at her. She still had something of a bedazzled look in her eyes, as if she’d engaged in more than just a one minute kiss. A kiss she’d clearly enjoyed. Her hair, recently home to his fingers, had a bed-head look, which halfway answered the question about any post-coital coif. Her lips remained parted, and her breathing showed continued signs of some pumped-up heart action. A few minutes before, he’d experienced a little pumped-up action in the area south of his belt, when she’d sucked his tongue. On second thought, maybe she hadn’t. Anyway, her response surprised him. She could have given him a knee in the groin. Instead, he’d gotten some passion from her.

  Oh, yeah. Little Miss Stubborn went up against Mr. Persuasion, and the result couldn’t have been more satisfying. It went something like quarterbacking a Niners’ game. He’d not only kept possession of the ball but ran it forty yards for a touchdown. Or at least he’d kicked a field goal. Whichever. It held promise for when they finished the apartment search. After she admitted he was right about affordable housing, they’d go someplace quiet and negotiate the hundred grand. Worst-case scenario, he’d bump his end up to twenty-eight five. Then maybe after dinner they’d snuggle in his car outside her aunt’s Victorian, and he’d find out if Molly ever got hot enough to suck a guy’s tongue. Like he was hot right now at the thought of it.