Stripped Bare(5)

By: Emma Hart

I guessed having a hot, naked guy grinding his junk in her face would do that to a girl.

Hell, I wasn’t even grumpy and I could guarantee it’d cheer me the fuck up.

When he finally finished his dance, Allie continued to blush so many shades of red that a paint color chart would have been jealous. Then she turned her flustered face toward me.

“I can’t believe you did that to me!”

“Moi?” I gasped and pressed my hand to my chest. “Why do you think it was me?”

“Because!” She threw a perfectly pressed napkin at me. “You’re the only whore who’d dare book me a freakin’ lap dance!”

I considered this for the briefest moment. “Yeah, you’re right.” I was grinning again, but I couldn’t help it. It was almost an illness, how amused I was.

“Ugh!” She grabbed her glass and downed the champagne before looking at us. “I’m going to get something stronger than mosquito piss. Anyone else?”

“Yep!” Jaz stood, grabbing another cigarette and lighting it. “Mia, wine?” she directed to me on an exhale of smoke.

Drunk Jaz resembled a choo-choo train where nicotine was involved.

“Yep.” I picked my champagne up as they disappeared, Lucie yelling her order of a cocktail after them. I sure as hell needed something stronger than just champagne. A bottle seemed a lot when it was for one person—split between four people? Not so much.

It was like splitting a bottle of water between the sand grains of the Sahara or something. Almost certainly an exaggeration, but whatever.

“I can’t believe she went through with it,” Lucie said quietly, snorting as she held her champagne flute against her lips. “I thought for sure she’d push him away and then bottle you.”

“Ha!” I clapped my hand over my mouth as the laugh barked out of me. “Me too.”

Seriously though. That had honestly been my first thought when she’d realized she was about to get a lap dance. I’d thought she’d kill me.

She probably had inside her head.

Allie came back to the table, a cigarette-free Jaz on her heels, both of them clutching drinks. The smile that stretched across my blond best friend’s face instantly made me pause, but it was the glint in her eye that got me.

Bitch was up to something.

“Here you go.” She set my drink in front of me and took her seat.

“What did you do?” I asked immediately.

“Who said I did anything?”

Lucie choked on her drink. “The guy approaching our table and staring at Mia.”

I snapped my head up and looked out at the crowd. Shit, she was right.

The guy though.

Six foot three, at least. Dark hair. Strong jaw lined with a sexy five-o’clock shadow. Blue eyes the color of the Caribbean. And a body that fit the white shirt he was wearing to perfection.

And Lucie was right.

He was headed right for me.

“Allie!” I snapped, looking back at her. “What the hell did you do?”

“Think of it as...a thank-you for such a great party.”

I wanted to slap that grin right off her face and spit on it. Oh. My. God. “You booked me a lap dance?” I was a little horrified.

Sure, I’d booked one for her, but she was the bride-to-be. It was supposed to be the bride-to-be with the lap dance, not the maid of honor. Right?

“No.” Jaz leaned forward. “She booked you a private lap dance.”

“You did what?” I could barely breathe, but it didn’t matter, because the guy who was obviously about to give me said lap dance approached the table before I could say another word.

“Mia?” he asked, hitting me with a hot gaze.

I nodded. Speaking seemed like a stupid idea because I’d only end up sounding like a mouse. If I was lucky.

He held one hand out for me, looking at me expectantly. Fuck all my friends, I thought as I reluctantly placed my hand in his. His rough fingers wrapped around mine, and he tugged me up, his plump lips twitching into a smile.

“Don’t worry about your drink,” he said into my ear. “You won’t have time to drink it.”

My stomach flipped. Holy. Shit. That was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard.

As he led me away, I glanced over my shoulder to look at my friends. They were all laughing, and my teeth sank into my lower lip.