Stripped Bare (Stripped #1)

He put one finger over my lips then traced them with the tip. “Perfect,” he murmured. “Completely perfect.”


“West...”

“Oh, one more thing.” He trailed one of his hands down my side, following the curve of my body, and grabbed my ass. His fingers dug into my flesh as he pulled my hips up toward him, his grip possessive and singing of ownership.

Why do I love that?

“Next time you come in here and I’m dancing, expect me to clear the stage, throw you in the middle of it, and let a good two hundred people see exactly how I feel about you.”

He dipped his head and brushed his mouth down my neck, and I shivered as the warmth from the touch spread through me. He smiled against my skin. Then he pulled back, held my gaze for two seconds, and got off me.

I pushed myself up to sit and shuffled toward the edge of the stage. My feet had barely touched the floor when, once again, he pulled me against him and snaked his hand down to my ass. The grip was just as tight, just as possessive, just as owning as it’d been before, and that same possessiveness shone back at me through his eyes.

“And I’m not dancing this week. Unless you come in.” He gave my ass a quick squeeze. Then, as soon as he released it, he smacked his palm against my ass cheek.

I squealed and clapped my hand over it as the sharp sting radiated across my skin. I was still rubbing it as he went back to the table to get the pile of fliers. Mine were still strewn across the floor, and he stopped, his hand hovering over his own pile, and sighed heavily.

Then he dropped to his knees and started the slow, arduous process of picking them up.

I joined him, elbowing him as I got down. “Smack my ass like that ever again and I’m going to bite your balls off.”

He grinned, turning his face toward me. “I’m counting on it, angel.”





I put the phone down and slumped forward onto the stage. Lili had been here and left, but right as she’d left, my mother had called.

Did I have a date for the wedding? The seating chart said I did. Who was he? What was his name? What did he do? Did I meet him in Vegas? When am I coming home? Am I in a new relationship with my date?

They were but a handful of the questions she’d asked me in the space of not very long—but, at the same time, way too long. I knew that, one day—Saturday—it’d come back to bite me, but I’d mumbled my way through the entire thing as West had watched with knowing amusement.

At least I’d gotten to see Lili shoot Beck down before they’d both left with Vicky. Lili to meet a friend and Beck to work—Vicky in tow. I figured he just didn’t want to restock The Landing Strip’s bar by himself.

Not to mention I’d put my heels back on before Lili had arrived and, now, my feet were hurting.

“Your mom?” West asked, bending over me and lifting a chunk of my hair.

I eyed him. “Yes. I’m exhausted about this weekend already and it hasn’t even started yet.”

“I can’t wait to meet her. Do you think Allie would mind an impromptu strip at the reception?”

“You’d give my mother a heart attack.” I straightened then paused. “Although, on second thought...”

He laughed, leaning back against the stage and gripping the edge of it. It made his muscles pop, and my gaze slid downward before... Shit. I was staring at him. He coughed, and when I looked back up, his eyebrows had shot up and he was smirking.

“Nothing,” I said, scooting away from him and moving fliers on the next table.

They didn’t need it. I just needed to do something with my hands before I did something stupid like stroke his arms. Like a newborn kitten or something.

“Stop being so skittish. Believe it or not, I don’t mind when you stare at me like you want to push me back and climb on top of me.” West’s tone was so cocky that I wanted to slap it right out of him.

“I did not look at you like that!” I put my hands on my hips. “You’re so arrogant, you know that?”

“Yes. But I’m hot, so it works.”

“You sound like a sixteen-year-old trying to impress the head cheerleader so she’ll suck his dick.”

“I’m a twenty-nine-year-old trying to piss off this hot marketing guru I know so she’ll suck my dick.”

“I’m not going to suck your dick, West. Our relationship is platonic now.”

“Of course it is, but I can still try.”

I glared at him. “You’re getting on my nerves.”

“Good. The fact that I can’t bend you over that table and fuck you is getting on my nerves.”

I didn’t have a response for it. I so badly wanted to fire something back at him, but instead, my cheeks betrayed me once again and I blushed red hot.

Damn my cheeks. Why did they always have to give me away? Damn red hair and fair skin. I was at an unfair disadvantage in the art of aloofness.

“I love it when you blush like that.”

I covered my cheeks with my hands.

“No.” He pushed off the ledge and closed the space between us. His fingers were cold as they wrapped around my wrists and pulled my hands away from my face. “Don’t cover it up. Please.”