by Lauren Smith
Yeah, he was dangerous all right.
3
Felicity haunted his thoughts. A flicker of light against the windows reminded him of her flashing gray eyes. God, she was something else. Jared grinned. It had been a long time since he’d had so much fun teasing a girl. The look on her face when he’d tucked the cab money back in her pocket—she’d been all flushed and wide-eyed. Damn. He’d gotten hard as a rock imagining how else he could have made her all pink and hot. But she was young. A graduate student.
So why did he keep reliving last night like some teenager in a fantasy? There was more to it than a warm body in bed beside him. It was the way she’d fallen asleep almost instantly, showing complete trust. Sharing a bed for the night with another person was more intimate than sex. You let your guard down, had no ready defenses. Most people refused to let themselves become that vulnerable. He was one of them.
But last night, he could have stayed next to her forever. The sweet smell of her, the rhythm of her light breathing, and the way she’d curled up against him until just before dawn. Jared doubted she remembered that part of the night. He’d have to remind her later, just to see a blush creep across her cheeks.
There couldn’t be a later, though.
Suddenly gripped by a bad mood, he stalked down the hall to his bedroom. Even though he kept his windows fairly tinted against the sun, the bold rays lit up the room. A streak of gold and burgundy caught his eye.
A wolfish grin tugged his lips back up.
The princess had left her gown.
Walking over to his bed, he reached out and touched the silk, which gleamed in the light. A hint of heat from the sun warmed his fingers as he picked up the gown. His eyes closed as he remembered the way she’d offered her back to him, so shy and yet completely trusting him. His hands tangling in the laces as he sought to undo them. The whisper of silk against skin.
Arousal slammed into him. His eyes flew open, and he forced himself to let go of the gown. Since when had he become so sentimental?
“Morning, Jared,” Layla greeted him from his doorway, dressed in Tanner’s shirt and boxers. Her long dark hair was sexy and rumpled. No doubt she and Tanner had partied well into the night.
“Layla,” he answered and shifted slightly to block the view of Felicity’s gown on his bed.
Her eyes tracked the movement like a cat sensing the darting shadow of a mouse.
“What’s that?” She was instantly alert as she padded across his room.
“Nothing,” he growled, taking a step toward her. Layla had no sense of boundaries, the result of too many siblings growing up, he supposed.
“Oh yeah? Sure doesn’t look like nothing.” She winkled her nose as she giggled. Then without warning, she dove around him and snatched up the gown. “This is Felicity’s costume. Why do you have it?”
Jared licked his lips. It never ceased to amaze him how she could intimidate him, despite her small size. He stood nearly a foot taller than her, but when she got that look in her eyes, it made even him want to retreat.
“She left it here when she took off for her class.” He attempted to wrestle the dress back from Layla’s hands, but the young woman kept a possessive grip on the fabric, and he didn’t want to tear it.
“Uh-huh.” She didn’t sound all that convinced. “I’ll just take this, if you don’t mind. It’s not like you need it.” With a saucy little wink she started for the door, then stopped to look over her shoulder. “Oh, Jared, how was last night, by the way?” She paused in the doorway, her gaze on him assessing.
“Fine.” That was all she was going to get.
He waited until Layla had disappeared before he shut the door and headed for the shower. Technically, he didn’t have to work today. The sale for their client, the buyer, had gone through yesterday. After this sale, things at the office would settle down. At least for a few days.
Jared cranked the shower nozzle on and stripped out of his pajama bottoms. When he stepped inside, a sweet vanilla scent hit him hard. Felicity. Her body wash? Or maybe her shampoo? He reached for his own shampoo, a minty-scented bottle. Disappointment prickled inside him at the way the spearmint covered the vanilla. One more trace of last night’s encounter was gone. With a frustrated growl, he scrubbed his scalp, lathering the shampoo into a thick froth before he rinsed.
A whole day. He had a whole day to burn and do whatever he wanted. Part of him was tempted to crash on his bed and sleep the rest of the day away. But that would only screw up his sleep schedule. He got so little as it was. It would have been worth it if he could have slept in with Felicity in his arms, although if she was there, he’d likely be tempted to do other things than sleep.
How is Felicity doing on her research? It had been six years since he’d been in college. Seemed more like a hundred. Law school and college were nothing alike. Undergrad had been fun. He’d worked hard and played hard. He didn’t know what getting a master’s degree was like compared to law school, though. Law school—that was the equivalent of joining the army and, rather than going to boot camp for training, just being dropped into the middle of a war zone with a water gun. He had barely gotten out of that experience alive. If it hadn’t been for Shana—and more importantly, her father—he might never have landed his current associate position.
He scowled. These were never thoughts he liked to linger on, the possibility that he’d only been hired because he’d dated a partner’s daughter. Yeah, really bruising to his ego.
Jared was tempted to linger in the shower, relishing the way the water soothed his tense muscles. But he couldn’t avoid the inevitable. With a heavy sigh, he shut the water off and exited the shower. He reached for a fresh towel and saw the one that Felicity had used dangling over one peg. It was impossible to forget the look on her face when he’d caught her searching his bathroom. The puffy white towel had hugged her full figure, making her look soft and cuddly. He’d been torn between the desire to hug her to him, stripping the towel away to lick the crystalline droplets from her skin, or to just drag her to bed to make love the rest of the day.
His cock twitched in a silent salute at the idea. Damn. He needed to get his mind off the little princess. Princess. She’d left her gown. Surely she’d want it back, right? The pearl-encrusted bodice and silk fabric looked pricey.
It would be rude of him not to return the dress. He had no other plans today. Might be fun to tease her again. Striding over to the chest, he grabbed jeans and a black T-shirt. No suit today, thank God. As much as he loved dressing well, sometimes a man just needed jeans. Once he was dressed, he went in search of Layla and the costume.
His brother’s girlfriend was in the kitchen, perched on the counter, bare legs swinging as she texted someone and sipped coffee from one of the black mugs he and Tanner had in their cupboards.
“Where’s Felicity’s costume?”
She didn’t pause in her texting. “My room. Why?”
“I’m not working today, and I’d like to return it to her.”
This made Layla’s fingers freeze above her phone’s screen. Her dark eyes drew a slow line up from her phone to his face. A glint of mischief peeked out from beneath her lashes.
“Mmmkay. Do you need her phone number and address? I wouldn’t call for at least an hour. She has to finish the paper and turn it in to the professor around eleven a.m.”
“Good point.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and waited for Layla to give him Felicity’s info. When she was done, he pocketed the phone and returned to his room. He unloaded his briefcase on his desk and happily turned his mind off work, an event that rarely happened.
“You should take her bag, too.” Layla was in his doorway again, pointing to the blue gym bag half-hidden behind his door. He’d missed that somehow. Layla hadn’t.
“Okay. Thanks.” He retrieved the bag and set it on his bed.
“So what happened last night?” Layla asked, her tone neutral as she walked over to his bed and plopped down on it like she owned the
place.
“Kid, it’s none of your business.”
She kicked one leg off his bed, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “She’s my best friend. It’s definitely my business.”
“You only met her like a few months ago, right?” He wanted to know more about his bed partner, but he didn’t want Layla getting any crazy ideas in her head.
“Sometimes how long you’ve known a person doesn’t matter.” Layla fixed him with a catlike gaze full of intentions he couldn’t read clearly. “She and I just clicked.”
He understood that. Sometimes you met someone and they just fit into place, like an intricate puzzle. You fit, no questions, no doubts. Something about Felicity made him feel like that. He’d never felt that way about a girl before, and frankly, it was a little unnerving.
“If you like her, Jared, be careful. You break her heart, I break your balls.” Layla mimicked a karate chop motion.
He chuckled. “You don’t need to worry. She’s sweet but way too young for me. I just feel like I owe her after last night. I should have taken the couch.”
Layla bit her bottom lip but didn’t bother him further. “Uh-huh.” She slid off his bed and walked to the door, only pausing once to motion with two fingers pointing at her eyes, then to his face. She would be watching him.
He grinned and picked up his phone and Felicity’s things. He wanted to be ready the moment she turned her paper in. He thought about surprising her. Would that be weird? To show up at her place? No, it wasn’t like he was some creep. He was just giving her bag back.
With a tenderness that shocked even himself, he folded her gown and then tucked it into her bag. A flash of bright red caught his attention deep in the bag. Using his finger, he extricated the item.
Red silk panties. Not a thong, just a normal pair, but the way the silk caught the light and slid smoothly against his skin… God, was the girl determined to drive him insane with lust?
“Damn it.” Guilt nipped at his insides as he tucked the red silk underwear back into the bag. He checked his watch again. Half an hour to go before he could text her. Excitement jittered inside him, a strange feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. He couldn’t wait to see his princess again, make her blush again, make her smile.
At a quarter till eleven, Felicity printed off the last page of her term paper from the library computer system and hastily stapled it and her resource list as well as her painting examples to the back. Then she slipped it into a clean, crisp black binder.
She was done. The relief of finishing such an intense research project was immense. She’d been working on this paper for two months, and now she could start on something new for next semester. Felicity left the library and headed toward the classroom building across the narrow sidewalk, tugging her coat up to keep out the cold wind. Her professor always preferred to collect term papers in person in his classroom rather than at his office. She had a sneaking suspicion he enjoyed heightening the tension by making everyone wait in line to hand it to him.
When she arrived at the classroom, a group of students were standing in a small circle showing their papers to each other and muttering as they examined each other’s work. Felicity wasn’t going to let herself get dragged into that potential drama and let them make her second-guess herself. So she stepped up to the front of the line, her binder ready.
Eyes locked on her as she walked up to Professor Willoughby to hand him her term paper. The middle-aged man leaned back in his chair, feet propped on one corner of the teacher’s desk at the front of the classroom.
He was fine-boned, with a rather unremarkable face, except for the way his sudden grins seemed a touch sarcastic. His eyes were always assessing everything around him and reflected back on her with a cleverness that often matched his words. His lectures were actually fun. He cracked historical jokes with a straight face, and only she and a few others seemed to realize that not everything he said was true. Not everyone had figured Professor Willoughby out, but Felicity was pretty sure she had.
“You’re sure it’s ready?” he challenged, a little smile hovering about his mouth, making the faint laugh lines in his cheeks reveal themselves temporarily.
“Yes. I think I’m okay.” She smiled. He was always trying to tease the students and keep them on their toes, but she felt confident of her research. As she left the class, she could almost hear her professor’s silent laughter.
Halfway out of the classroom building, her cell phone vibrated. She paused, dug the phone out of her pocket, and checked it.
One new message.
Unknown number: Hey, princess, you left your gown on my bed.
Princess? It had to be Jared. How in the heck…? Layla. She growled. Her best friend had betrayed her. Wasn’t that against the girl code? No giving of one’s number without permission. Layla was in serious trouble, but she’d deal with her later.
What was she going to do now? Text him back? What could she say? God, she wished she’d done this whole “interact with the male species” before now. If Felicity wasn’t so pissed at Layla, she would have texted her and gotten her advice, but that would be such a bad idea to let Layla anywhere near whatever this…thing was between her and Jared.
Her fingers hesitated above the screen. Why was he texting her, anyway? Layla could have easily gotten her dress back to her.
Unknown number: Don’t get shy on me now, princess. We did SLEEP together.
She saved his number to her contacts and typed a reply.
Felicity: Is this always going to come up between us?
Jared: You didn’t just say that, did you? There are lots of things that can come up between us.
Felicity: I can’t believe you just texted that!
Jared: HAHA. I can’t believe your mind went there, princess.
Laughter bubbled up from her, and she couldn’t contain it, nor did she want to.
Felicity: Is Layla still at your apartment?
Jared: Yeah…why?
Felicity: Tell her she’s dead. I’m gonna kill her for giving you my number.
Jared: Haha. Will do. Did you get your paper turned in?
She paused. Her heart skipped a few beats, then rushed to catch up. He wanted to know how her day was? A guy like him was taking time out of his day to ask her if she got her paper completed?
Felicity: It was good, I think. My research and assertions were well thought out.
Jared: I’m sure you nailed it.
The text made her smile, bite her lip, and then she smiled again. He thought she did great. Just thinking about that made her feel good. She didn’t dwell on how pathetic it was that she responded so much to his praise.
Jared: You’re still a nerd, btw.
The smile on her lips stretched even wider. She would have been offended by anyone else calling her that. But after this morning she could only grin.
Jared: What? No witty comeback?
Felicity: Give a girl time to come up with one.
She tucked her phone in her jeans pocket and headed toward the street so she could hail a cab. It was too cold to make the long walk back to her place. Jared’s money still filled her pocket. She hadn’t used it, even though she’d been tempted. Boy, had she been tempted. At the curb, she stepped off a step and raised a hand. One of the many yellow cabs waiting for fares skidded into place in front of her. Climbing in, she settled her backpack on her lap and gave the driver her address.
Her phone buzzed again. Another message.
Jared: You have lunch plans?
She rolled her eyes and tapped her phone’s keyboard.
Felicity: Don’t you have work or something, Mr. Big Shot Lawyer?
Jared: Mr. Big Shot Lawyer. That’s your comeback? I gave you plenty of time to think of a good one.
She snickered and then typed.
Felicity: Seriously?
Jared: Seriously. I’m a lawyer. I’m dead serious. And you didn’t answer my question.
Felicity: What question?
Jared: Do you
have lunch plans?
Why was he asking her that? Did he want her to come over and get her costume during lunch? Probably would be easier for her to do that so he could make it to his own important lawyer lunch or whatever it was lawyers did during lunch.
Jared: Still waiting…
Felicity: No plans. Why?
Jared: Good.
She waited for him to explain. No more texts came through. Disappointment slithered into her, bit by bit. The strange elation she’d experienced during their brief and very odd conversation deflated. It was the first real interaction she’d had with a guy her age—well, close to her age. Jared was a little older, but in a good kind of way.
The cab ride was fifteen minutes long, and yet Felicity was so lost in her thoughts that she only noticed they’d stopped when the cabbie tapped his fare machine and coughed loudly. She handed him her money, even though she was tempted to give him Jared’s. They were even, though. And she didn’t like taking handouts.
As she got out of the cab, she stared at the eyesore of an apartment complex in front of her. The red brick was chipped and crumbling, and the plaster in the halls was peeling. Inside she knew aromas of urine and booze would linger in the halls. The cracked sidewalk leading up to the building was a clear reflection of the tenants inside.
Home sweet home. After leaving Jared and Tanner’s apartment, she felt like a mortal returning from a brief night on Mount Olympus. Back to reality. Her steps slowed when she reached the elevator. A “Broken” sign was taped to the orange-painted metal doors. Three months and the thing had yet to be fixed. She climbed the three flights of stairs to her floor. The overhead lights flickered, buzzing like enraged bees in a low hum.
A tall figure leaned against the wall next to her door at the end of the hall, his back to her. A pool of shadows formed by the lack of hall lights above him made it impossible to see him clearly.
Crap, that wasn’t good. Last week the man who lived two doors down from her had gotten jumped by a guy who’d followed him into his apartment and knocked him out. The man had robbed her neighbor and left him bleeding from a nasty head wound for two hours before someone found him and called the police. Ever since then Felicity had been sleeping with one eye open and her cell phone at the ready.