Stripped Bare (Stripped #1)(57)

I had no claim to man who’d given me more orgasms in a week than I’d had in a month with previous partners. I had no say over how he moved his hips and flexed his cock against some other woman and touched her breasts and turned her on.

Nope.

No say at all.

That was exactly why I wanted to climb over every person between us and claw her eyes out with my nails.

Especially as he whipped a chair around from a table close by, set her on it, and then straddled her.

Last time, I had been turned on.

This time...I had to swallow back a nauseating lump in my throat and pretend I didn’t care.

This time, I had to watch with the knowledge that I did care, although I had no right to.

“Mia?” Beck moved closer to me and flattened his hand against my cheek. He forced my face to turn away from where West was finishing up dancing and made me look at him. “Don’t.”

I swallowed hard and shook his hand off, grabbing my glass. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“She’s not fine. Fine is woman code for f*ck off,” Vicky yelled helpfully, sliding another blue drink in front of me.

I had no idea what she was feeding me, but it was damn good.

She leaned right over the bar. “He’s seen you. He’s headed over here.”

My stomach twisted once again. I downed the last of the first glass and slid it back to her. “Good timing on this, then,” I said, picking the new glass up.

Beck raised one eyebrow at me as I took a drink and ran my fingers through my hair.

I wanted to get drunk.

Stupid idea, but it seemed pretty good all the same. Maybe I’d be able to drink enough of these blue things that I’d forget how it had looked when he’d thrusted his hips all over that bride-to-be. Maybe, maybe, maybe...

“What are you doing here?” West looked between me and Beck, his bright-blue eyes blazing with annoyance.

“Unwinding. Supposedly.” I smacked my lips together. “Against my will.”

“Should’ve listened when you said no,” Beck muttered.

“Told you,” I snapped.

“Why do I get the feeling I’m missing something?” West asked.

“You are!” Vicky chirped up, grinned, and moved to the other end of the bar.

Boy. This was fun.

I didn’t want to get drunk anymore.

Actually, I kind of wanted to go home and get in the shower. Then, if I cried out of frustration, I could pretend I wasn’t. That was a winning thought right there.

“You brought her to unwind...here?” West asked Beck. “Why?”

“Honestly,” Beck answered him, casting a glance at me, “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s worked.”

“What clued you in?” I asked sarcastically.

“Mia.” West touched my arm and pulled me away from Beck.

I managed to shoot him one final halfhearted glare as West dragged me through the door and into the hall. As the door shut, the music dulled enough that we’d be able to talk without yelling at each other.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.” Vicky was spot-on with her explanation. I feel like… Fuck off.

“You don’t look fine.” Concern flashed in his bright-blue eyes. The ones that had probably just been eye-f*cking the bride-to-be. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

I took a deep breath, met his gaze, and opened my mouth to answer.

I couldn’t.

The lump in my throat combined with the darting flash of memory of him dancing with the woman tonight rendered me silent, and the only words I could form were inside my head and they summed up the situation perfectly.

How had everything changed so quickly?

“I have to go,” I said thickly, stepping away from him and back toward the door.

“Mia—”

I tugged the door open and disappeared through it, cutting him off.

“Mia!”

I just about heard him call my name through the music, but instead of stopping like my heart wanted me to, I marched to the bar, grabbed my purse while ignoring Beck, and turned away. My eyes stung, and as I darted past West, I felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

I wasn’t allowed to have feelings for this man, yet I did. I’d allowed myself to let them form into something that stung me.

Even the blast of warm air as I stepped outside didn’t soothe me. I ignored the couple of cabs lined up outside and turned the corner. I couldn’t run in my heels, but I could walk fast, so I did. I walked as fast as I could, away from the club, to my apartment, holding in everything that’d come to a head inside me tonight.

I held it inside until I’d gotten upstairs, and then, the moment my door slammed behind me, I leaned back against it and screwed my eyes shut.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

I was begging myself even as I pushed off the door and the tears stung my eyes. Even as I kicked my heels off, peeled my clothes off, and stood beneath the shower, allowing my makeup to run down my face.

Don’t. Cry.

I did. I went against everything I’d told myself not to do and I cried, letting the tears roll out of my eyes, letting the hot stream of emotion battle with the equally hot water that dripped across my skin.