Stripped Bare (Stripped #1)(16)

I must have been looking at him blankly, because he continued.

“The clubs.”

“Oh. Yes. Yes, that sounds fine.” I took my notebook from him and set it on the table with the pen. “Write down your e-mail, and when I get back to my apartment, I’ll send you an e-mail detailing what we’ve discussed so you can decide which points you’d like to proceed on.”

“All of them.” He scribbled his e-mail down anyway. “You have an apartment? You’re not staying on the Strip?”

I shook my head and put the pad and the pen back into my box file. “No. My boss has a low tolerance for the Strip, so the apartment she booked is a few blocks away.”

He reached into my file and, after tearing a piece of paper out of the back of the notebook, grabbed the pen and put them in front of me. “Write it down. I’ll get you tonight.”

“I’m perfectly capable of driving myself, thank you.” I picked my pen up but pushed the paper back to him.

“I’ll get you tonight.” He placed two fingers on top of the paper and eased it back toward me, where he held it in place.

“I said—”

“And I said I’ll get you. Don’t make me follow you back, Mia.”

“It’s Ms. O’Halloran to you.”

“It’s Mia. Now, write your address down, because you’re testing my patience, sitting there all fiery and gorgeous, and as much as you deny it, you know what happens when it goes.”

A bolt of defiance shot through me. Annoyance teased my consciousness, so I scribbled my address down then slammed my pen into the folder and closed it. I grabbed my purse and the folder and stood, smoothing my hand over my skirt.

No sooner had I turned away than I looked at him over my shoulder. He was leaning back in the booth, his gaze hot on me, and he had the scrap of paper between two of his fingers, turning it slowly.

Our gazes met, and this time, all traces of amusement were gone from his blue stare. There was only the dark tinge of lust. He was deadly serious—ironic, consider the game he’d just played.

“Oh, Mr. Rykman? One more thing.” I turned my body back to face him and bent forward, resting my hand on the table.

His eyes never left mine. Not even as my lips curved up in a dirty smirk of my own.

“I said that night didn’t happen. I never said I didn’t remember how I sucked your thick cock right before you bent me over the bed and f*cked me senseless.”

With that parting shot and a dangerous glimmer in his eyes, I spun and skipped down the steps that led to the main floor and the stage. I swept my hair around one shoulder and walked away without looking back, no matter how badly I wanted to.

Yes—work was my priority, but if he wanted to f*ck with me, then I’d f*ck with him right back.

I had no doubt his day would be a lot more uncomfortable than mine.





I’d lost my mind. I knew I had.

Going to three strip clubs with a man who was my client, market research or not, was downright insane.

Not that I had any time to contemplate it.

“I can’t believe you just ran off to Vegas without informing me or your father.”

“I didn’t run off, Mom. I’m here to work. Michelle’s stepson’s mom died, so I’m taking this contract for her.”

She scoffed disapprovingly. “You should have told her no. You have a responsibility to be here for Allie!”

“Good grief, woman. She knows I’m here. I called her as soon as I landed. I’m coming back for the dress fitting”—hopefully—“and I’ll be back in plenty of time for the rehearsal dinner.”

Silence rang through the line.

“Oh,” she said. “I suppose, if she’s okay with it...”

“She is,” I said sharply, glancing at the clock.

Five to eight. She still had enough time to bring something else up.

“Why didn’t you call her before you left?”

And there it was. “I had to finish up a contract for another client before I could leave. I didn’t have time. She understood.”

“Your job is too important to you.”

That’s a matter of opinion, but whatever. It wasn’t like I had a cat to fill my time.

“I’m buying you a cat when you come home. You need something else to do.”

“I don’t want a cat,” I groaned.

“Why not?”

“Because. They’re *s.” I was * enough for my apartment, thank you very much.

“Only when your father trains them.”

“Mom, you’re killing me here. I don’t want a cat. I love my job. Allie doesn’t need me to hold her hand through the wedding. She can call me anytime. I’ll be home when it matters.”

Two knocks sounded at my door, and I stood, making sure the laces of my heels were tied around my ankle.

“Please give me a break. I can’t take your neurotic phone calls every ten minutes.” I opened the door to West Rykman, who was looking hot as all get-out in a white shirt, his sleeves rolled up yet again, and dark-blue jeans. I motioned for him to come in and tuned back in to Mom’s rambling.

“...neurotic is very hurtful, Mia. And why do you have time for Allie’s calls but not mine?”