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Authors: Brenda Rothert

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BOOK: Stripped
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He drove a dark Land Rover, and Abby smiled at him
as she walked out.

“Hi,” he said. “You look really nice.”

“Thanks,” she said, sliding into the leather seat.

“I got you a salmon salad, is that okay?” he asked
as he pulled away from the front door.

“That’s great, thank you. I’m sorry about this.”

“Don’t be. I really don’t mind.”

Abby sighed as she glanced at him. He was so sweet
and seemingly perfect that it hurt to remind herself this couldn’t go anywhere.

“Which one of your sisters are we taking lunch to?”
Chris asked.

“Audrey. She’s 12,” Abby said absently.

“How’s your day going?”

“It’s okay. Chris, I think we need to have a talk.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“Why did you ask me out?”

“Because I like you,” he said, glancing over at her.

“But…what do you really want?”

“This is what I want. I want us to get to know each
other better.”

“I know this will sound strange, coming from a
stripper, but I’m very conservative when it comes to men. I’m not as experienced
as you might think, and I’m afraid you think that because I’m a stripper, I’m
easy. I’m not. I’m pretty difficult, actually…practically impossible.”

Her exhale was the only sound in the car, and Abby
grew nervous.

“Do you think I asked you out because I expect you
to have sex with me?” Chris asked, sounding hurt.

“Men don’t ask strippers out because they expect
intellectual conversations,” Abby countered.

“Why do you do that?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“Put yourself down constantly. When I look at you, I
don’t see a stripper, Abby. Was I all over you that night at the club?”

“No. I guess I’m just confused about what you want.
Is this a platonic thing?” Abby asked.

“Yeah. I am
not
trying to sleep with you.
Like I said, I just got out of a relationship, and I’m not looking for another
one.”

“Okay. So, friends?”

“Friends.”

Abby looked at him for a few beats.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m waiting to see if you say anything about
benefits.”

“Because no man can know you and not want to sleep
with you?” Chris asked, grinning.

“No,” she said, coloring with embarrassment. “I
didn’t mean it like that.”

“What nights do you work?”

“Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays.”

“Can I take you out to dinner Sunday night?”

“I’ll have to check my schedule,” Abby muttered. She
was feeling exposed, and she didn’t like it.

“Do that,” he said. “All I ask is that you do one
thing for me.”

Abby suppressed the quips that came to mind and
looked at him curiously.

“What?”

“Don’t refer to yourself as a stripper or put
yourself down.”

“That’s two things,” she said.

“Just try. We’re here,” Chris said, parking in front
of the pavilion. “I’ll wait for you.”

“If I were you, I’d consider driving away while I’m
gone,” Abby said as she closed the door.

“Thanks, Abby!” Audrey said, running to grab the
white paper sack from her hands and peeking into it. She reached around Abby’s
waist with a hug before returning to the pavilion.

Abby sighed as she walked back to Chris’ car, where
he was standing against the door.

“Ready?” he asked, opening it.

“Thanks for bringing me, and for getting her lunch,”
Abby said.

“I’m glad to. I can see the resemblance between you
two.”

“We only have the same mother.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. My Mom had me and Justin with one guy, and
life was somewhat normal then. But when he left, we started moving around a
lot. She had Audrey and Sara with another guy, and that’s when things started
to get bad.”

“Bad how?”

“He used drugs, and he got her started on them. I
took care of Audrey and Sara when I wasn’t at school. He left after Sara was
born, and Mom was an established drug addict by then.”

Chris was watching Abby, and she stared back at him.

“Don’t feel sorry for me,” she said pointedly.

“I don’t. That must have been hard for you.”

Abby shrugged.

“Not really. They’re good kids, and we have each
other. I work for them – so they can have a better life than I did growing up.”

“And Justin?”

Abby smiled proudly.

“He’s a sophomore in college. He’s in a pre-med
program. And despite our upbringing, he’s a very good man.”

“Are you putting him through school?”

“He’s on a scholarship, but I cover his other
expenses. I plan to put him through medical school when the time comes. I could
never afford that with a normal job. Do you have siblings?”

“No, it’s just me.”

They rode in silence for a few minutes, listening to
the soft sounds of John Mayer.

“I’ll see you Sunday night,” Chris said as he pulled
up at the front entrance of Case Publications. “Or call me sooner if you want.”

 

Chris shook his head as he pulled out of the parking
lot to Abby’s office. He had never said anything like “Call me sooner if you
want” to a woman. It sounded a little pathetic.

Abby was making him feel an itch he couldn’t put his
finger on. He’d been thinking about her a lot at work the night before. He’d
even considered texting her, though he’d talked himself out of it.

The revelation that she’d been a stripper at Reed’s
bachelor party had surprised him. She didn’t seem like the type. From what
little he’d seen of her, he already knew she was guarded and a little shy.
Stripping seemed like an odd career choice for someone like that.

The thought of her stripping, though…It gave him
mixed emotions. He disliked the idea of strange men staring at her, groping her
and using her. None of them had any right to that. But when he envisioned her
dancing for him alone, it got his blood flowing. The image of sweet Abby slowly
taking off the dress she’d had on at their first lunch had run through his mind
several times.

It frustrated him that he couldn’t remember what
she’d looked like at the club. Though he remembered his conversation with her, Chris
hadn’t paid particular attention to any of the dancers that night. Strip clubs
had never been his thing, because they were fake. Just a bunch of plastic women
pretending to be aroused for the pleasure of desperate men.

But Abby was much more than that. There was nothing
fake about her. He wanted to know more about her, and he was already thinking
about seeing her again Sunday night.

 

 

Chapter 4

 

She had styled her hair in big, long waves for her
Friday night at work, and Abby dragged it across the lap of the man she was
dancing for. He gripped the sides of his chair and groaned.

“I’m so hard, baby,” he said. Abby bit her lip and
looked at him, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. “Let’s go in one of the
bed rooms.”

“I don’t do bed dances,” she said in a low voice.

“I’ll pay,” he said hoarsely.

“You need to see my friend Lacey. Or Amber. They do
amazing bed dances,” she said, rubbing her breasts across his cheeks.

“No, you. I want you.”

Abby made eye contact with Joe, one of the bouncers,
and he subtly made his way toward her. The song ended and she thanked her
customer.

“Come on,” he urged impatiently. “I’ll make it worth
your while.”

“I don’t do bed dances,” she said firmly.

“Fucking cocktease,” he muttered. She turned her
back and rolled her eyes as she walked away.

“Thanks, Joe,” she said as she passed him. It had
been a busy night, as Fridays usually were. The club was completely full, and
the waiting room had been full most of the night. Abby hadn’t even taken a
break, and she was tired. She had made a lot of money, though.

Mickey caught up to her as she made her way
backstage.

“Your new dance is good,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“Some of the younger girls could really use your
help with choreography.”

“I’d help if I had the time, but I don’t,” Abby
said.

“When are you getting your boobs done?”Mickey asked,
raising his eyebrows critically.

“Never. We’ve been over this so many times, Mick.”

“You barely fill up a C. You’d look amazing with Ds.”

“You don’t even like boobs, what do you care?” Abby
grumbled.

“You know why I care,” he said pointedly, admiring
his perfectly styled dark hair in a mirror.

“Who was the blond guy you were sitting at the bar
with?”

Mickey smiled at his reflection.

“Tom. I met him at a coffee shop the other day,” he
said.

“Good luck with that. I’m exhausted, I’ll see you
tomorrow.”

Abby slipped a cotton dress on over her
undergarments and added her wool overcoat. Her feet ached as she slipped them
out of the high heels she’d worn all night. She slid into ballet flats and
packed the heels in her bag as she headed for the door.

As soon as she started her car, she decided on an
impulse to call Chris.

“Hi,” he said, his familiarity making Abby smile.

“Hi yourself.”

“How was your night?”

“Busy. How’s yours?”

“Same. Friday nights are always busy here. It’s
after four, though, so things are slowing down. How tired are you?”

“Pretty tired. I get to sleep in, though.”

“You want to come by here? I haven’t had a break
since seven. We could hang out, if you’re up for it.”

Abby’s fatigue said no, but she was tempted to see
him in his scrubs again.

“Sure. I’ll come by.”

“Great. Just have me paged at the front desk.”

 

The woman at the front desk gave Abby a disapproving
look as she paged Chris. Abby pulled her coat around herself more tightly as
she waited. He came through the double doors that led to the emergency room,
smiling.

“Hey, let’s go to one of the sleeping rooms so we
can have some privacy,” he said. “There are some nurses on break in the
lounge.”

Over his scrubs, he wore a white waist-length coat
with his name stitched on it. He looked tired, and Abby wondered if he’d slept
after their lunch.

The sleeping room was small, with only a bed and a
small desk with a chair. Chris closed the door behind them and took his coat
off, throwing it on the chair. He pulled Abby’s coat off her shoulders and she
enjoyed the brush of his fingers against her.

“Lay down,” he said, walking to the desk to flip on
a dim light. He turned the rest of the lights in the room off and Abby felt a
shiver of uncertainty. She was sure she shouldn’t sleep with him, but not sure
she’d be able to resist if he tried.

“Um…”

“Just lay down,” he said, his voice low. Abby
reclined on the bed, conscious that she was only wearing a flimsy cotton dress
with nothing but her underclothes beneath. She pressed her thighs together as
Chris made his way down to the foot of the bed. A surge of longing passed through
her groin as she admired the outline of his wide shoulders.

“I figured you’ve been on your feet all night,” he
said, gently removing her shoes and throwing them to the floor.

“Yes,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. Chris
sat down, resting his back against the wall and putting her feet in his lap.
She gave an audible gasp as he pressed his fingers into the bottom of one of
her feet.

“Okay?” he asked softly.

“Yes. God, that feels good. Tell me about your
night.”

“Couple of car crashes, a heart attack, a kid who
swallowed a battery…”

“A battery?”

“Happens all the time.”

“Is this where the doctors and nurses come to get it
on?” she asked, looking around the spartan room.

“The sleeping rooms are for crashing when you have
really long shifts. But I’m sure they’ve been used a time or two for illicit
activities.”

“Have you ever done it in here?”

“Um...”

“Really, Chris? Come on, no jealousy here. We’re
just friends, remember?”

“Yeah, maybe I did once. Not this exact room,
though. And it was a huge mistake.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s crazy.”

“Oh…so she’s a co-worker?” Abby asked, feeling
curious about this woman. What did she look like? She felt irrational for
hoping she was ugly.

BOOK: Stripped
3.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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