Stripped Bare (Stripped #1)(49)

My heart pounded in my chest as I did what he’d said. I slid my hand down between my legs, ghosted a fingertip over my clit, and bit down on my lower lip as I pushed my middle finger inside myself.

“Move it,” he ordered me, his voice gruff. “Rub your thumb against your clit. Fuck your own hand, Mia, and imagine it’s mine. Imagine I’m there watching you finger yourself and get off.”

My breath caught in my throat. I was good at following instructions, and I was all ready to demand something right back, but when I opened my mouth, a moan came out instead of words.

I was turned the f*ck on and I couldn’t say a damn word.

“Imagine I’m watching you, naked, and stroking my cock. Close your eyes and picture it. Picture yourself watching me watch you get off. I bet you look so f*cking sexy with your fingers deep inside your wet *.”

More moaning. It was all I could do as my veins thrummed with pleasure. Adrenaline pounded around my body until my heartbeat echoed in my ears.

“I’m so damn hard for you. If you were here right now I’d have you on your knees, your face buried in the sheets, and I’d f*ck you from behind. Fuck,” he finished on a tight mutter.

“Keep talking,” I breathed, pulling my fingers out of my * and moving them to my clit.

God, I wanted him to keep talking. I could feel the orgasm building deep within me, coiling my muscles, buzzing through my blood, and I wanted—no, needed—more. All of it. I needed the release.

“Think of it,” West said, almost as breathless as I was. “Think about how f*cking good it feels when I’m inside you. When your greedy little cunt is hugging my cock. When you’re scratching up my back and screaming my name. Think about how goddamn good it feels to have my cock buried inside you and pounding into you.”

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

“Think about how f*cking amazing it feels when your tight * comes all over my dick, Mia. When you collapse and I’m still inside you. Think about it.”

“I—oh god, West,” I moaned. Why is this so freakin’ hot? Am I really about to come on the phone with him?

“Yes,” he half hissed, half growled. “Fuck yes, Mia. Think about it. Think about how you felt when I came inside you.”

I did.

I thought about it.

And I came, my entire body trembling. I almost dropped the phone, but my clenching muscles kept it pinned to my ear as West’s deep groan of his own release vibrated down the line. I was breathing crazily, thanks to the most intense orgasm I’d ever had courtesy of myself.

I couldn’t believe I’d just done that.

A few minutes of silence passed between us. I was thankful for it. I was able to catch my breath and calm my heart in that quiet time, and I assumed he was doing the same.

“What time do you get back here tomorrow?” West finally asked.

“Around half past twelve...I think. It’s definitely around noon.” I sat up in bed, pulled a handful of tissues from the box on my nightstand, and awkwardly wiped my fingers. It’d do until I could shower in a few minutes.

“You have plans after?”

“No. None. I was going to work.”

I swore I could hear his smirk.

Then he said, “I’ll be waiting outside your apartment.”





West pulled out of me and collapsed onto my bed next to me.

He had been waiting just like he’d said he’d be, and the moment we’d gotten into my apartment, he’d thrown my bags to the side and we’d magically found our way to the bedroom, our lips locked.

Any hesitance about a sexual relationship with him had disappeared.

Unfortunately for me, the feelings that had replaced it would be a problem.

They weren’t crazy, but when I looked over at the man lying next to me—sweat beading on his forehead, a tiny smile curving his lush lips—I knew that maybe there was...more. I couldn’t focus on it though. I couldn’t give it brain time or more would become more, and there were way too many issues between us to think about that.

Like the fact that he was my client, I lived in San Diego, and who was Charlotte?

I’d lied when I’d said that I didn’t want to know. I wanted to know. It was clawing away at my female curiosity. Who was she, and why was she so important she needed to be brought up? It was obviously a huge part of his life he didn’t want to acknowledge, but Beck had made him.

And me. He’d made me too, the moment he’d known I’d hear the conversation.

West rolled onto his side and hit me with his gorgeous, bright-blue eyes. They searched my face, flitting this way and that, and slowly, he smiled.

“Wanna get lunch?” he asked.

I turned my head toward him, tugging the sheets up over myself, and raised my eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m hungry.” He flicked some hair out of my eye. “And then you can work.”

“Because that plan is working so well already.”

He laughed and threw himself on top of me. I faked an oomph and stared up at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. His grin was infectious, wide and bright, as he spoke.

“I promise. Food then work. Beck will be at the club to make sure it actually happens.”

“What is he? Your own personal cockblock?”