Stripped Bare (Stripped #1)(32)

“I’m not calling him.”

More laughter. “Call him, and when you get there, try to keep your panties on, okay?”

“No. Gotta go, byeeeeee.” I drew the word out and hung up before she could say another word.

True as hell, my phone buzzed with a message from her a few seconds later.



Allie: CALL WEST!



No. I damn well wouldn’t call him.

Vicky’s words about him being frustrated after our supposed chat had rattled around in my head all night. Of course, in typical female fashion, calling him and asking him why would have been too easy. No, I was destined to assume any number of things I’d done wrong.

Could you do something wrong by swallowing a guy’s come?

Didn’t they like that?

Was he a strange one who didn’t?

Was that what I’d done? Had I swallowed it when I was supposed to spit?

Good grief. There’s a train of thought I’d never thought I’d have to have.

I slapped myself on the top of the head and sat up, looking out my window. There was no view, just the house across the street, but I stared at it anyway.

I needed to get some self-control. I’d gone freaking looking for an orgasm last night, no doubt about it, and I’d gotten myself three, and a hefty dose of shame to go with it.

Honestly, you’d have thought that self-control was one of my fortes, given the crap I put up with from my mother. Actually, maybe that was it. I used it all up on her, so when it came to West, my control meter was at a big, fat, useless zero.

That would have been a better excuse if I’d spoken to her since Monday. I hadn’t.

Was Allie right? Was this attraction really just...too strong?

Sure. Our chemistry was undeniable, but to me, it felt closer to something that would combust rather than simmer along happily.

I had to go to work.

I didn’t want to go to work.

I really didn’t have a choice. Everything I needed to do involved West or Rock Solid. Once that was done and he’d agreed to let me fly home on Saturday for the dress fitting, I wouldn’t have to see him for several days. Because he would agree. He wasn’t a horrible person—plus, I’d already called Lili, my mixologist friend, and arranged to meet, try out a few recipes, and get her to Vegas next week.

I sighed as I forced myself to get up from the table and go to my room. There was a pile of clothes on my bed from an earlier attempt at dressing I’d abandoned to call Allie in the hope she’d have something smart to say that would be helpful to me and my current situation.

Obviously, she hadn’t, but the call and subsequent thoughts I’d had had given me one good idea.

Don’t wear a dress or a skirt or anything that could be easily hiked up around my waist, because despite her oh-so-helpful advice to keep my panties on, I had no doubt West would just slip them to the side and get to work.

I wondered if slipping them to the side was the loophole.

No, I decided, staring at the mess of clothes all tangled. I’d wear light skinny jeans and a white blouse tucked in. Business but casual. Smart but sexy. And a helluva lot harder to get a girl out of.

I dressed quickly and slipped some heels on before running a brush through my knotty hair. It still held the curls of last night, but sleep and the brush had turned them into loose waves that fell softly around my shoulders. They’d do.

I paused after putting mascara on, my gaze catching a bright-red tube of lipstick. I was lucky to have the shade of red hair that could pull it off, and I did always feel good in red... To hell with it. I slicked it on, blotted it on a tissue, and grabbed my stuff before I could change my mind about going to the club.

I hoped he wasn’t still angry. I didn’t want him to be frustrated, because that would make it even more awkward than I had a feeling it was already going to be. I didn’t have a clue what to say to him, which was unfortunate because I had a lot I needed to say to him.

I blew out a long breath as I drove. I had an entire list of marketing things I wanted to run by him, but that would be no good unless I got my shit together. I needed a Starbucks or something, because the coffee machine in my apartment wasn’t cutting it, but there wasn’t one on the way to Rock Solid. And, if I detoured, I’d lose my shit and go home.

I clicked my tongue as I pulled into the parking lot. Immediately, I spotted West’s car in the corner, which made me exhale with relief and my stomach twist in nerves. I still had no idea what to say except for, “I want Starbucks,” and I didn’t think that would be a great conversation starter.

I was struck once again by the difference in the atmosphere of the club during the day. Technically, it wasn’t even nine thirty in the morning yet, but the quietness of it was oddly relaxing. If I didn’t have to be there during the day to finalize promotion ideas, I doubted I would be.

I pushed the door open and edged inside. The familiar sound of the vacuum cleaner filled the air, except this time, I could see the lady bent over it. She ignored me entirely as I walked past her, and I noticed the buds in her ears. Listening to music instead of the vacuum.

Smart woman.

My heart sank as I caught sight of the bar. Of course, it was Vicky’s day off. I liked her. The tall brunette now stacking glasses? The frown on her face told me I probably wouldn’t feel the same way about her.

“Hi.”