No Law Against Love 2

by Zoë Archer

  “This place is like Mardi Gras on acid,” he shouted to Bianca.

  “Isn’t it great?” she yelled back.

  He had to admit it was. He never had a problem with the whole Mission District crowd, they just moved in different circles. But this—the giant room stuffed with people dancing and laughing, the anything goes attitude reflected in the clothes and the décor—felt a damn sight better than yawning his way through yet another of Karl and Dennis’ parties, or attending another gallery opening with the artsy, black-clad set.

  But Marius realized what made the difference wasn’t the music, or the clothes, or the way the loft was furnished. It was the woman. Bianca. On the cab ride over, she’d told him stories about her work at an Italian restaurant, making him laugh so hard he thought he’d be sore in the morning. He really liked the one where an escalating series of dares finished when Bianca had dared one of the prep chefs to man the deep fryer—without wearing pants. The guy had been smart, though, and didn’t take the dare. Most women Marius knew took themselves too seriously and were afraid that being funny would somehow take away from their attractiveness. Bianca, Marius was realizing, didn’t take herself seriously. She was silly, a little raunchy, funny as hell, and ten times as sexy.

  On the ride to the party, they had continued to hold hands, but, aside from their legs bumping against each other as the cab took a tight turn, they didn’t touch anywhere else. It drove him crazy. Between Bianca’s spicy perfume, her spicier stories, and the feel of just her fingers and palm, Marius couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman so much. Certainly not one he’d met just a few hours ago, in the middle of vandalizing his car. There was the weird little hiccup that had happened when she asked about his work, getting stressed and bizarrely afraid, even though she hadn’t been afraid earlier when he’d yelled at her about his car. Before the whole thing had blown over, he’d gotten a bit tense, too. He’d met too many women who actually asked about his financial portfolio before asking his name. It was one of the hazards that came with being very successful in his job.

  He wasn’t the kind of guy who avoided commitment, but he didn’t rush toward it either. Somehow, though, something felt right about Bianca. As someone who made a living off of following his instincts, Marius had learned to trust his. And whenever he looked at her, those instincts said, Yes.

  He was thinking Yes, again, as Bianca mixed him and herself two cocktails of indeterminate name, taking bottles off a makeshift bar. She handed him a plastic cup and they toasted.

  “To the New Year,” she said.

  “To new friends,” he added. They both sipped their drinks and, whatever it was, it tasted almost as good as he imagined she did.

  “Is that what I am?” she asked with a flirtatious smile. “A friend?”

  “A very, very close friend,” he amended.

  “How close?”

  He started to lean toward her to demonstrate just how close, when someone bumped into them, splashing their drinks onto her dress before staggering off. Marius growled. Great.

  “I’ve got a handkerchief,” he said, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a fine cotton square. His dad was old fashioned and drilled into Marius from an early age that a gentleman never left home without a handkerchief, a pen, and a knife. Marius had been the only fourth grader with a monogrammed pocket square in his lunchbox. Which is why he learned how to fight. And could clean up his own bloody nose afterwards.

  Bianca just shrugged. “Don’t mess up your nice hankie. It’s no big deal. I’ll dry off in two minutes.” When he stared at her, smiling, she asked, “What?”

  He stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket. “I was just thinking that most women I know would freak out if they got a drink spilled on them.”

  “I’m not most women,” she answered, echoing his earlier words. “Come on, I feel like dancing.” Before he could say anything, she tugged him toward the packed dance floor—which really wasn’t a dance floor, since people were dancing everywhere, even on the beat-up sofas that dotted the loft.

  The next hour was spent in sweet torture as Bianca danced with him. It wasn’t exactly dancing, since there was barely enough room to blink. The upside to this was that Bianca mostly rubbed her incredible body against him in time to the music. The downside…well, there was no downside. Except that they were in public. And clothed.

  Before he knew it, midnight was almost there and everyone was counting down in unison. “10…9…8…7…6…” He and Bianca locked eyes, and it seemed like the whole year had been leading up to that moment. He wrapped his arms low, around her small waist, and drew her toward him. “5…4…3…2…” She threaded her fingers into his hair and pulled his head down. That final second lasted forever, until—“1!” the crowd shouted, then began blowing on noisemakers and singing “Auld Lang Syne,” at the top of its collective lungs—but Marius didn’t hear anything. He didn’t care about anything but kissing Bianca.

  He wanted to devour her. He wanted to take his time. He brought his lips to hers, first just letting them brush together, but he needed more, and took the kiss deeper, opening his mouth. She took his lead and did the same, boldly, with no hesitation, no shyness. Animal need—and other things—rose in him. He could taste the ripe fruit of the cocktail she had mixed, and the sweeter flavor of Bianca, herself. Marius took small nips from her mouth, savoring her, before his restraint burned away and he kissed her with a hot, insistent thirst. And she was there the whole time, unashamed in her own desire for him.

  They finally drew back enough to look at each other. “Wow,” Bianca breathed. “I’d call that an out of body experience, except my body was definitely involved.”

  Marius laughed, but what came out sounded like a hoarse rumble. He was about two seconds away from pulling her down onto the dance floor and shucking off her sequined dress, the hell with the crowd around them. His experience with women suggested Bianca might not appreciate being a live sex show in the middle of a New Year’s Eve party. If he didn’t get them both someplace private soon, though, he’d probably lose his ever-loving mind.

  He cleared his throat. “You want to—”

  “Yes,” she said immediately. “Yes, I do.”

  Thank God she was a woman who didn’t play games. Taking her by the hand, Marius led her off the dance floor. All around them, couples were kissing and dancing, throwing themselves into celebrating the new year. His heart slammed inside his ribs, and he felt the warm heat of Bianca’s slim hand in his, and everything in his mind and body telling him that somehow, the impossible had happened. He’d found her. The woman he was meant to be with. And now that he knew who she was, he had to make her his completely. It was primitive and completely cave man, but Marius didn’t want to argue with his instincts.

  He muscled through the crowd, nearly shoving people out of his way, not caring if he was being rude. He needed to be alone with Bianca. But where? The damned loft was one big room, and there was already a huge line outside what he imagined was the bathroom. He could try and shove his way to the front of the queue, but the idea of twenty people waiting outside and pounding on the door while he touched Bianca’s bare skin wasn’t very appealing.

  “There’s a walk-in pantry just off the kitchen,” Bianca said above the noise.

  He nodded, unable to fight the grin that curved his mouth. They were both on the exact same wavelength. How much more perfect could it get?

  A lot less perfect, as three people leapt out at them en route to the pantry.

  “Happy New Year, Bianca!” they screamed and threw themselves into a group hug that included her. Marius felt her hand wrenched out of his. He almost fought to grab it back.

  All three—two girls and a guy—were laughing and talking to Bianca all at once. She obviously knew them, but kept meeting Marius’ eyes with an apologetic and aggravated look. None of her friends seemed to have noticed Marius standing impatiently nearby, and kept chattering on, oblivious. Until the guy noticed Mar
ius glowering, and gave him a huge, beaming smile.

  “Bianca, honey,” he cried, “who’s your gorgeous, surly friend?”

  Bianca rolled her eyes. “Down, Steven. Marius is with me.”

  “Really?” Steven said, looking at Marius with naked speculation.

  “Okay, Show and Tell is over,” Bianca said, adorably pissed off. “We were just—”

  “Looking for a place to make mad monkey love,” Steven finished. “I saw you two on the dance floor. Whew!” He fanned himself.

  “Thanks, Steven.” Bianca edged her way through her friends and took hold of Marius’ hand again, making him way too happy for such a simple gesture. He was in serious trouble with this girl.

  “Fine,” sighed Steven. He made a shooing motion with his hands. “Go. Enjoy your monkey love. Just remember, you have to get up early tomorrow. No all-night sessions on the jungle gym.” With that, he and the girls melted back into the colorful crowd.

  “Why do you have to be up early?” Marius asked. “Everything’s closed tomorrow.”

  “Not the restaurant,” she answered. “It’s a tradition to have a New Year’s Day festa. I have to be there by eight tomorrow to start getting ready for the afternoon.” She shrugged. “It’s kind of a pain, but the festa is a lot of fun, and I love the special dishes I get to cook. You should check it out.”

  He liked how dedicated she was to her work. “I think I will.”

  “Listen,” Bianca said, leaning closer so only he could hear her. “I really do want to spend some time getting to know you and talking, but if we don’t go somewhere private and put our hands on each other, and soon, I’m going to kill somebody.”

  Her words went straight to his groin. Without hesitation, he moved through the crowd, Bianca following close behind. At last, they reached the pantry door and tumbled inside without turning on the light. The door was slatted, letting in a little bit of light from the party. Marius could see that the small room was lined with shelves stocked with canned goods, boxes of cereal, and, weirdly, model airplanes. He almost made a joke about the deceptive storage capacity of the pantry, but seeing Bianca in the dim light, leaning back against the shelves with unmistakable heat in her eyes, made Marius realize he had more important things to do.

  Even in the semi-darkness, Bianca could see the raw need in Marius, sharpening his face, tightening his body. She let him come to her, willed herself to stay against the shelves of the pantry, watching him cross the narrow space so they could finish what they had started on the dance floor. When they had kissed before, he’d started slowly, but this time, there was nothing slow or exploratory about it. He wanted. She wanted. They brought their mouths and bodies together in an incendiary display of pure desire. If there had been any flammable liquids in the pantry with them, the whole loft would have burned down.

  Marius’ hands roamed all over her body, along her waist, the fullness of her breasts, up the lengths of her legs. She could barely support herself, shaking with pleasure at his touch. Bianca gripped one of the pantry shelves to keep herself upright. Bottles of soda and tin cans rattled. Her other hand dove underneath his jacket, under his sweater, until she finally felt the hard silk of his skin, his muscle. She felt the shape of a folding knife tucked into the back pocket of his jeans, but was too drunk on the feel of his body to think what that might mean. He sucked in his breath as she explored him with her dexterous chef’s hands. And when his fingers brushed up under the hem of her dress, caressed her between her legs, she almost screamed. Instead, she bit down on his shoulder and was rewarded with his groan of ecstasy. But her dress was tight and there was almost no room for him to touch her. She clutched at the shelf in frustration.

  A bag of dried pasta, shaken loose from its perch above them, came tumbling down and landed on Marius’ foot. As he turned and kicked it away, Bianca quickly slipped off her panties. She didn’t want anything between her and Marius. Her need for him was reckless and fierce.

  The door to the pantry was yanked open. For a moment, Bianca was frozen, caught between interrupted desire and startled awareness of the world outside. She suddenly realized that she held her underwear. Even though Marius was shielding her from view with his body, she didn’t want anyone to see her with a wad of red satin bunched in her hand. She couldn’t slip them back on fast enough, and she had no pockets. Crap. Where to put them?

  “Dude,” said the guy standing in the doorway, “airplanes? This is a weird bathroom.”

  “That’s because it isn’t,” growled Marius, grabbing the handle on the door and pulling it shut. He turned back to Bianca. “You okay?”

  She blew out a shaky breath. “A little sexually frustrated right now, but otherwise fine.”

  His laugh was just as unsteady as she felt. At least she wasn’t the only one feeling unbalanced. “Maybe we should find someplace more secure,” he suggested. “Unless, you wanted to stay at the party.”

  “I’m ready to go,” she said at once. “But…”

  “Yes?”

  “Can we take a walk?”

  “A walk,” he repeated.

  “I like you, Marius,” she said. “I like you a lot. And while part of me wants to throw you onto the floor of this pantry and just rip your clothes off…” She stopped when she heard him groan, but he didn’t move toward her. “But, because I do like you, maybe it would be better if…”

  “We slow it down a little.”

  “Yeah.” She looked at him and could feel the pent-up erotic tension radiating out of him. She knew exactly how he felt. Any minute now, she was going to spontaneously combust. But she meant what she said about taking their time, and wouldn’t apologize for it. Bianca met his silver gaze without blinking, hoping he wouldn’t call her a tease and leave, but knowing that, if he did, he wasn’t worth it.

  Finally, he swallowed hard and nodded. Rubbed his palms on his thighs. “Sure. That sounds good.”

  Relief almost made her legs give out from under her, and that’s when she realized she had already given Marius a piece of her heart. She could have let him go, but it would have been really, really difficult. When he reached for her, and she took his hand, she felt a bright ball of happiness glowing inside her, and it didn’t diminish when he helped her on with her jacket and they left the party. She couldn’t help wondering if they had anything besides physical chemistry. She wanted more with Marius than a New Year’s hook up.

  ~~~

  She learned that when he was a kid, he wanted to be a Transformer when he grew up. Bianca revealed to him that her life’s ambition in the sixth grade had been marrying John Taylor from Duran Duran and running a combination circus school and rock and roll institute together in the Scottish Highlands. Marius loved olives, but hated maraschino cherries. Bianca wouldn’t watch any movie that involved animals in peril or William Shatner. They both had read Alan Moore’s Watchmen several times.

  Her apprehension began to dissolve over the course of their long walk up and down the hills of San Francisco. If anything, learning more about Marius, finding the things they shared and even their differences, drew her toward him with the force of a riptide. Between revelations and confessions, they would stop and kiss, leaning against buildings, tuning out the hoots of encouragement from drunk pedestrians, lost in each other.

  The sky was already turning pink with the dawn when they realized they were outside his apartment. When they spotted his car, still bearing her lipstick scrawl from earlier, they both started laughing, but he grew almost serious right afterwards.

  “I’d like you to come up,” he said. “I don’t care what we do, I just don’t want you to leave.”

  “I can’t stay,” she said with honest regret. “I have to be at work in—” she consulted her watch—“two hours, and I need to get home, shower and change.” Bianca stifled a yawn. “Damn. It’s going to be a long day. But it was worth it.”

  Still, he tugged on her hand as he started up his stairs. She found herself following. “I’ll make you some cof
fee.” When she hesitated, he added, “You think you know everything about me, but you don’t know that I make the best, strongest espresso outside of North Beach. One cup can power an entire city block. It’ll keep you wired for the rest of the day.”

  Sleep deprived and giddy with newfound feelings, Bianca giggled and let him lead her up the rest of the stairs. Outside his front door, he pulled her against him and they spent a long time propped against the door, kissing, his hands moving all over her, her own hands exploring the feel of him. She had no idea if they would have made it inside at all, until she felt his chest vibrating against her.

  “Pacemaker?” she asked as he leaned back.

  “Cell phone. Thought I’d shut if off.” Wryly, he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and started to turn the phone off.

  “Wait. Who calls at six in the morning on New Year’s Day? It could be an emergency.”

  Humoring her, he checked the display, then pressed a button and the phone powered down. “Just work.”

  Nerves and suspicion danced down her neck. They hadn’t discussed their professional lives during their long talk, and she still didn’t know what he did beyond the vague ‘import/export’ description he’d given at the party. He’d even dodged the princesses’ questions about himself at the swanky party.

  “Why would work call now?” she asked.

  “There’s always some emergency, even when it isn’t an emergency.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll make you that espresso.” He unlocked the door and she slowly followed him inside.

  His apartment was filled with beautifully restored mid-century modern furniture and black and white photographs. She liked it immediately, but couldn’t shake the unease the cell call had started.