Stripped (4 page)

“If I could rest, just one more mile, to save this road, for just a while...”

He stopped talking. 

Silence fell between Emily and the stranger.

She waited.  She listened.

The sound of the bar - the voices murmuring, the occasional loud boom of laughter, the clanking of glasses and bottles - the sounds of the club - the low music over the PA system, people talking, a cymbal falling to the stage - it all became a dull rumble as Emily wanted to hear more.

There was a beautiful poetic tone in the man’s voice.

“Anything?” he asked.

“Anything what?” Emily replied.

“What I just said.  Does it mean anything?”

“I don’t know.  Should it?”

“We’ve been broken, from day to night, is it worth the fix, when this feels so right?”

Emily shook her head.  She had nothing to offer but she enjoyed the way it sounded.  It made her body feel really good.  When she looked down she couldn’t believe she had casually placed the tips of her fingers on the man’s knee. 

Was that a sexual gesture?

Was the man whispering in her ear a sexual gesture?

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Emily,” she replied without hesitation. 

“Do you want to know my name?”

“Yes.”

The man closed his lips and ran them up and down Emily’s ear, just once, and then pulled away.  He stared at Emily with his beautiful eyes that matched his gorgeous face. 

Through the silence he began to smile.

“You really don’t know me,” he said.

“Sorry.”

“I’m not so sure you should be.”  He put his hand out towards Emily, a gesture to shake hands.  Emily looked at his hand for a few seconds, wondering if it was better this way.  It certainly felt hotter... not knowing his name.  The flirting.  The whispers.  Chasing away the annoying bartender.  An aura hung around the stranger and because of that aura, Emily took his hand and shook it.  She wanted to know more. 

“I’m Emily,” she said.

“You already said that.”

“I know.”

“You still want to know my name.”

“I don’t know.”

“I can get in trouble if I tell you my name.”

“Are you on the run?”

“We all are.  Think about it.”

Emily did.  The still-stranger took his hand away and pondered Emily’s face as she thought.  She hated that she was losing herself in the stranger.  His face was beautiful and his words were even more beautiful.  He twisted the top off the scotch and poured himself a large helping.  He sipped it for a second and then began to down it with ease. 

When he slammed the glass to the bar and let out a sigh of relief, Emily had to ask him something.

“Doesn’t that burn?”

“Sometimes,” he said.  “But that’s the fun, isn’t it?  A little pain for a lot of pleasure.” 

His fingers started to move along Emily’s fingers, gently curling, moving in a motion like he wanted Emily closer.

“I couldn’t take a drink like that,” Emily said.

“But I’m sure there’s other ways you could handle a little pain for the ending result.”

“And what’s the end result of drinking like that?”

The stranger laughed and played a quick drumbeat on the bar.  “Ah, she asks the deep question.  And she doesn’t know who I am, even my name.”

“You’re asking me questions,” Emily threw at him.

“No, I’m giving you statements,” the man corrected.  “I’m telling you about pain and pleasure.  Any questioning is coming from yourself.  Because you’re thinking about it now.  And you’ll think about it later, won’t you?  When you’re home, in bed.  You’ll wonder about the last time you felt real pleasure, had real fun, and dabbled in your true wild side.”

“What makes you think I have a wild side?” Emily asked.

“Look at you,” the man said.  He moved fast, yet smooth.  He leaned back into Emily.  He pushed his sunglasses back up.  From the corner of Emily’s eyes she saw the next band ready to take the stage. 

It was going to get loud again.

Very loud.

Shit.

Emily didn’t want noise.  She wanted...
him
.
  The gorgeous stranger.  And yes, maybe even pain.  Not bad pain, but good pain.  Whatever the hell that was.

“Look at you,” he repeated.  “Your eyes tell me a different story than the one you portray to the world.  And your body... those winding curves can take me places, can’t they?”

Emily stiffened.

Curves?

Did he really have to go there?

Emily swallowed hard, unsure if the curves comment was a jab or not.  The man had so much confidence in himself, he didn’t care if he hurt Emily’s feelings. 

With another drumstick count-off, the next band began. 

The roar of distorted guitars and bass had Emily’s body rumbling.  Her heart pounded but that had already happened thanks to the stranger.

He came at her with speed, his lips back to her ear. 

“Come with me, right now.”

He stood up, his hand clamping around Emily’s wrist.  He tugged and Emily resisted.  She looked up at him, a towering man of sensual desire.  She worried that if she stood, her knees would give out.  Looking around the club, Emily’s eyes focused on the door she had come through, after Ann sent her away from the backstage indulgence of drugs and sex. 

Isn’t that what Ann wanted?

What was the harm of a little fun?

There wasn’t anything the man could really do... they were in a club, right?

“Now,” he called out, his voice rising above the music.

Emily looked up at the man.  Her eyes drew a mental line along his perfect jaw.  Her tongue ached, wanting to move along that jaw.

She stood up and she didn’t fall. 

The man turned and began to walk, Emily right behind him.  They worked their way along the side of the stage, reaching the metal gates separating the crowd from the band area.  A bouncer rushed over and put a hand to the man’s shoulder.  He quickly twisted the bouncer’s wrist and pulled him down.  Again, with something whispered, the bouncer nodded and backed away, allowing them through.

Emily saw the door she had come through again, but the man kept moving beyond that, to a set of steps.  Three steps down was a landing, followed by another set of steps.  Emily didn’t count those steps, there were too many.  But at the bottom was another landing, this one much bigger.  That’s where he stopped, quickly pulling Emily and putting her in the corner.  A small light hung overhead and the area smelled of wet stone.

“What is this?” Emily asked.

“This... well, down there is the basement.  You don’t want to go down there.”

“Monsters?” Emily bit her lip.  She couldn’t believe how flirty she felt.

“There’s monsters everywhere,” the man said.  “But we’re not here to talk about monsters, or the basement, are we?”

“I don’t know.  You brought me here.”

The music was mostly silent, the stone walls thick enough to absorb most of the sound.

“You’re right,” the man said.  “I did bring you down here, didn’t I?”

“Can I ask why?”

“You just did.”

“Are you going to answer me then?”

“I prefer... a little action...”

He reached down and took Emily’s left wrist.  He lifted her hand over her head, forcing her arm flat against the wall.  His fingers ran against her arm, making her shiver and wiggle, somewhere stuck between being tickled and being pleasured.  Of course, the pleasure came manifested in her mind, wondering just how far this sexy man would go and what he had to offer.

“Leave your arm up,” he commanded.

Emily listened.

He grasped her right wrist and repeated the move. 

Both of Emily’s hands were above her head.  It wasn’t much of a submissive move but the closest to any submission Emily could remember in a long time. 

“Now,” he whispered, coming towards her, “I’m going to tell you my name.  And I want you to tell me how it feels.”

His lips touched Emily’s for a second.

“Bryce,” he whispered. 

“Bryce,” Emily repeated, her lips touching his as she said it.

“That’s right.”

Both of Bryce’s hands touched Emily’s hips. 

Emily felt her arms starting to bend, wanting to grab him and demand to know why he  touched her.  She resisted the self conscious urge to do so, and instead, bent her knees and sighed.

“Your curves are perfect, Emily,” he said.  “Your name is innocent.  But we’re going to break that innocence... and give you a new name...”

“Oh yeah?” Emily asked.

Bryce’s hands were then on the move.  He came up her sides, over her shirt, his fingers spread, his grip tight so he could follow and memorize her body.  Emily wished she could see Bryce’s eyes right then.  Then again, it was quite hot to be in this kind of position. 

Bryce seemed hidden, behind his sweatshirt and his sunglasses.  But he was so open and commanding when it came to Emily and what he planned for her sexually. 

At her breasts, Bryce’s left hand stopped moving and he held Emily’s chest.  She moaned as his right hand continued up, following along her arm.  He didn’t stop until he reached her wrists.  His hand was big enough, his fingers long enough, to hold both of Emily’s wrists with ease.

He looked at Emily and she could see the reflection of herself against the big black lenses. 

“Tell me what you feel,” Bryce said.

“I’m burning,” Emily whispered.  “My insides... your hands...”

“What else, don’t hold back.”

“Your eyes,” Emily admitted.  “I want to see them.”

“Beg me.”

“Please.  Bryce, please.”

“That’s not good enough,” Bryce said.  There was a slight growl in his voice.  His hand tightened around Emily’s wrist.  She gasped for air.

“Oh,” she cried out.  “Bryce, please...”

“Getting better,” he whispered.  “But yell it.  Tell everyone.  Tell everyone in this fucking club that you want me.  That you need me.”

Bryce squeezed harder on Emily’s wrists.  She cried out again, throwing her head back.  Her voice bounced against the stone walls.  It sounded good.  Emily liked it.

“Bryce,” she cried out, her voice echoing again.  “I want you, Bryce.  I need you... Bryce... please...”