Stripped Bare (Stripped #1)(47)

“Yep. I have a date.” That wasn’t what I had been hoping for, but it was an answer all the same.

“Right. Never mind, then.” He hung up.

I stared down at my phone. Well, that had been a little awkward. But was that really it? Did he really—the sneaky little f*cker.

He had to have known we’d had our plus-ones added. He was the freakin’ best man. Of course he had. He’d just been feeling me out like the dirty little snake he was.

Ugh.

Now, I had to find someone to go with me.

The handsome face of a certain stripper flashed in my mind. I swayed on the spot. Man, that would be sweet. I could imagine it—I knew Darren. He’d have the hottest girl he could find as his date, and I’d show up with West...

No.

No, Mia.

That’s not a good idea. Not even close to a good idea.

Especially since my phone was telling me he’d texted me back.



West: No problem. Can you talk later?

Me: Around eight. I’m at my mom’s then having dinner with friends. Is something wrong?

West: No. I’m just imagining you naked.

Me: Umm. I wasn’t expecting that.

West: So I’m also really f*cking hard and wondering what my chances of phone sex are.



I stared at my screen. Was it inappropriate to ask for a dick pic in this situation? I mean...he’d started it.



Me: I kind of want to ask you for a dick pic.



That had been brave. I felt...well, more empowered than I did when I logged onto Facebook and had delightful messages from strange men accompanied by pics of their peckers, that was for sure.

“Mia? Are you done?”

I turned to look at Mom. “Yeah, sorry.”

“What did he want?” She led me back toward the kitchen. She’d finished her tea and was in the process of cleaning it up.

I put my phone on the table and leaned against it. “To sort things out with us.”

“I hope you told him no.”

“Yes, Mom. I told him no. I’m not stupid.”

“Well, I do wonder.”

I rolled my eyes just as my phone lit up with another message on the table. “I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions, you know.” I tapped in my passcode and opened West’s text message. My cheeks were already a little flushed from what his response might— Oh my god.

Oh. My. God.

“Mia? What on Earth is that?” Mom leaned forward.

Toward my phone.

I slapped my hand over it and scooped it up at the same time, almost dropping it in the process. “Nothing. I gotta go. Tell Dad I love him and I’ll see him next week at the rehearsal dinner.” I snatched my purse up and turned, heading for the door before she could say anything else.

I didn’t breathe again until I was in my car, with my doors locked and my air conditioning on. I’d barely glanced at the screen, but what I’d seen had been enough to fluster me.

Apparently, I’d missed the warning message of, Ready?

Slowly, I lowered my phone from where it’d stayed plastered against my chest and unlocked it once more.

Sure as shit, my screen filled with cock.

Not just any cock.

West’s cock.

West’s hard cock.

He was sitting down, his pants undone and his boxers pulled down, and his shirt unbuttoned and his abs on show. His lick-me lines, the V that was so deeply indented by the perfect muscle there, lean down right toward his cock, and I understood then why I called them lick-me lines.

I’d never wanted to lick a man so badly in my entire life.



West: Does that solve the problem whether or not to ask?



I swallowed. Hard. His hand was wrapped around the base of his erection, and now, I had an imaginary movie playing in my head. I imagined him moving his hand up and down, getting himself off as he thought of me naked, just like he’d said he was.

My * ached.



Me: Yes. Thank you. But just so you know, there’s every chance my mother just saw your cock.



If that didn’t kill an erection, nothing would.



West hadn’t responded to my message about my mom possibly having seen his penis. I didn’t blame him. If I’d sent him a vagina shot and someone else had possibly seen it, I’d probably be trying to leave the country. Quickly.

Of course, my next question was what he was doing in the middle of the afternoon with an erection. Even for a stripper-slash-strip-club-owner, it was eccentric. It wasn’t like he just walked into the kitchen, pictured me naked, and gotten a hard-on, was it?

Well. Maybe.

The guy was insistent, and from what I knew alone, his sex drive was a force to be reckoned with.

I guessed I’d assumed that would have stopped when he’d gotten what he wanted—me. But it hadn’t. Not if he’d had an erection that hard in the middle of the afternoon when we weren’t in the same city, let alone the same state.

I couldn’t lie. I was kinda impressed. Usually, it took a bit of going to get a dick that hard.

I slumped back onto my sofa at five to eight and swiftly fell to lying down. Dinner with my friends had been exhausting. I’d thought ahead and decided that informing them about West’s picture wasn’t a good idea, but the entire time, I had been stuck.