Stripped Bare (Stripped #1)(7)

Yes. Maybe random one-night stands were definitely the way to go.

Was I slut if my whorishness was justifiable? Did one one-night stand make me a slut? I had no idea. I was a serial dater, not a serial screwer.

I turned my attention to the clock on the nightstand and tapped my nails against my knee. I’d been back for eight minutes. Yes, eight. I was precise.

He said that he’d leave the club ten minutes after I did, and the club was around ten minutes away if you walked.Basically, this has been the longest eight minutes of my life. Except the two that were about to happen. No doubt those one hundred and twenty seconds would be like a hundred and twenty thousand.

What was I doing?

Oh my god.

I’d invited a stripper back to my hotel to f*ck me.

That was not normal behavior.

That was f*cked up.

What was wrong with me?

The last time I’d had no-strings sex was with my best friend’s fiancé’s best friend, and look where that had gotten me. I had to pair my ass up with him at said best friend’s wedding because of being best man and maid of honor.

I had time to get outta here, right? I knew that Lucie was alone, and Allie definitely was. Jaz... Well, she’d left with Hot Server, as we’d all assumed she would.

It was one a.m. and I was—

Knock. Knock.

—no longer waiting for the stripper to show up.

I blew out a long breath as I got up and headed for the door. I peeked through the little peephole and cussed myself out when my heart thumped a little too hard at the sight of the hot guy standing on the other side of the door.

“Nine minutes,” I said approvingly, opening the door. “I’m impressed.”

His instantly eyes caught mine, a slow, sexy smile curving his lips. “I don’t like to keep a lady waiting.”

“Come in.” I stepped away from the door. “Would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you.” He shut the door behind him. The white shirt he was wearing had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and its tailored fit perfectly hugged his muscular body.

I swigged from the glass of wine I’d poured myself from the fully stocked mini fridge and then gulped it down. The glass clinked as I put it down on the counter, but before I could turn, I felt the warmth of his hard body behind me.

He rested his hands on the edge of the counter and leaned into me. His breath was hot as it skittered across my neck, and his lips brushed my earlobe as he spoke. “Nervous again, Mia?”

I paused, sucking my lower lip between my teeth. There was no use in denying it. I was. “A little. There was a good chance I was under the influence of, well, you when I proposed this earlier tonight.”

“Would you like me to leave?”

“Whoa now. That’s a little rash.” I turned around so I was perching on the counter instead.

My gaze traveled across his upper body, from his slender waist to his broad shoulders and his toned arms, to his sharp, stubble-dusted jaw and the perfect, soft-looking, pink lips that were quirked up in amusement.

“I’m gonna go with no. Don’t leave.”

“Are you sure?”

I was still watching his lips. If they were that hot when he spoke, how hot would they be elsewhere? Namely, between my legs?

“Positive.”

“Good.” That was all he said before he slid his hand around the back of my neck and pulled my face toward his.

Our lips met, and my first thought was that they were as soft as I’d imagined, and the second was, Oh, f*ck me.

My hands found their way up his body and around his neck. He kissed me so firmly that my head swam as his tongue flicked against the seam of my mouth. The simple touch sent a bolt of fiery lust hurtling through me, and I wound my fingers in his hair and pressed my body against his.

The kiss deepened, so our tongues met, and he wrapped his arm around my waist, holding me in place. It took only seconds for the kiss to grow to something more, and my body reacted in a startlingly strong way.

He swung me around and pushed me back toward the bed, releasing the back of my neck. Then he fell with me, and as my leg bent, my dress rode up my thigh. He took it as an invitation, and his rough palm trailed up it, taking the dress up even farther until it was bunched around my waist.

“You didn’t mention your name,” I gasped when he kissed his way down my neck. My hands moved to undo the buttons of his shirt, my back arching.

“West,” he replied, the word a murmur against my skin. “Now you know what to scream when I f*ck you.”

Yes. Yes, I did.

His teeth grazed across my pulse point, and I pushed my body against him. I undid the final button of his shirt, and my hands explored his body as his mouth moved across my chest. My heart thundered in my chest when he pulled the straps of my dress down over my shoulders. The tingles left in the wake of his fingertips scorched, and before I knew it, my dress was bunched around my hips, my bra was unclasped, and his mouth was around my nipple.

His tongue roughly teased it, and he rolled the tip over the sensitive, hardened bud. I arched beneath him, but my hips bucked at the same time, so my * pushed right up against his hard cock.

Fuck. It felt bigger than it’d looked earlier.

I felt his smile rather than saw it as he moved down my body. He was swift and exercised control in every movement he made, whether it was a kiss or a grab of my thigh. It was erotic—a total turn-on. My breathing sped up as he dropped to his knees, grabbed my ankles, and yanked my ass to the edge of the bed.