Strip Me Bare (21 page)

“So are you ready to own me?” Ryan asks after
we have a few more glasses of champagne. He has me pinned against
the wall, his half-naked body pressed against mine, moving subtly
to the music.

“I guess as I’ll ever be,” I murmur,
completely spun up in the mix of Ryan’s hot and steamy alter ego
and the heady effects of the alcohol. I understand why he’s so
successful as Jack the Stripper, he exudes sexuality; a seductive,
beguiling, temptation that just derails you. He’s magnetizing.

Ryan takes my hand and leads me away from our
little crowd. I give a small wave to Emily as I walk out the door.
We head back downstairs and through the main room of the club,
cutting over the dance floor. As we walk a multitude of lustful
eyes size Ryan up; some even go so far as to touch him, caressing
his arms and chest like a devout harem.

It’s odd to experience, and just before we
break away from the mass of dancers I hear someone hiss, “Lucky
bitch.”

Suddenly a wave of possessiveness comes over
me; lucky is right, he’s mine.

I squeeze his hand tighter as we slip through
the hanging beads at the back of the club. We walk past the dozens
of tiny alcoves where just like before, silhouettes of bodies are
doing sinful and illicit things. And as the scent of lavender
incense hits me I’m transported back to the night Ryan and I spent
here doing our own sinful and illicit things. My flesh heats,
curious which room he’ll choose, but he just keeps going until we
get to the end of the hall.

“Aren’t we going in one of those?” I point to
the hanging beads behind us.

“Not tonight,” he glances back at me, and
there is a mischievous look in his beautiful blue eyes.

He pulls a silver chain out of his pocket
that has a gold key dangling on the end. Then he unlocks the
door.

“What’s in there?” My curiosity is
provoked.

“Take a look,” Ryan pushes the door open and
I poke my head inside.

I gasp at the opulence. It’s a bedroom; a
beautifully decorated bedroom. I step in and spin around inspecting
each and every aspect of the space. It’s done in all pale colors,
whites, creams and the softest of pinks. The walls are draped with
sheer white fabric and illuminated with tiny twinkle lights.

“Why is there a bedroom in the back of a
night club?” I ask astounded, while candle light flickers all
around us.

“We call it the B and B,” Ryan says, stepping
closer to me.

“And what does B and B stand for?”

“Boyfriend bedroom,” he answers, trying to
gauge my reaction. “It’s for the boyfriend experience.”

“Do I dare ask what the boyfriend experience
is?”

“It’s the most private and personal service
we offer.”

Service?

“And how many boyfriend experiences have you
done?” I look around and have a feeling this goes above and beyond
anything that happens behind those dangling crystals.

“Two,” he says seriously, “and they were both
before you.”

“What about during me?” I suddenly feel
nauseous.

Ryan shakes his head strictly, his eyes
boring into mine, “None, I couldn’t be close like that to anyone
but you.”

“How close are we talking?”

“As close as one or the other allows.”

I gulp hard, trying to push the image of Ryan
seducing another woman out of my head.

“If this makes you uncomfortable, we can
leave.”

I stare at Ryan, trying to decipher my
feelings.

“Women actually pay you for sex?”

“No sex is implied, that would be
prostitution,” Ryan clarifies, “but this is a lonely city and
people crave intimacy. And that’s exactly what the boyfriend
experience is about, catering to emotional needs.”

“But it’s not real.”

“It doesn’t have to be. It’s escapism. Like a
ride at Disneyland.”

“You’re comparing it to the happiest place on
earth?”

“I’m only trying to make a point that there
are all types of amusement park rides in life.”

“I just can’t grasp the concept.”

“You don’t have to. You’re one of the lucky
ones, you’re loved.”

I stare at Ryan, and even though I’m standing
in a beautifully decorated room of ill repute, I do feel lucky, and
loved.

“Why exactly did you bring me here?” I ask
naively, glancing at the huge, striking bed beside us that I
absolutely adore. Its frame is white metal, the headboard and
footboard shaped in a swirling, abstract design.

“I wanted to loosen you up a little. You’ve
been so stressed out lately,” his voice is genuinely sincere.

“What did you have in mind exactly?”

Ryan’s mouth spreads into a tempting smile.
“Get undressed and I’ll show you.”

I put my hands on my hips, “I’m just supposed
to strip down?”

“I don’t care how you get naked,” he says as
he pulls back the shiny cream comforter. “Just take your damn
clothes off and lay on the bed.”

I glance hesitantly down at the sheets.

Ryan rolls his eyes, “Relax, it’s sanitary.
You sleep on hotel mattresses don’t you?”

“Not after tonight,” I jest.

“Just strip, already,” he orders
playfully.

“Bossy, bossy, I thought I was supposed to
own
you
tonight?”

Ryan’s eyes absolutely glow with excitement,
“Baby, you not only own me, you possess me.”

“I didn’t realize I had so much power,” I say
seductively as I pull my top over my head.

Ryan saunters over to me and slips his
fingers through the belt loops of my jeans, then smashes my body
into his. “You have power, you have force, and you irreversibly own
my heart,” he kisses me firmly, plunging his tongue into my mouth.
I melt into his body, but as soon as I try to wrap my arms around
his neck, he swiftly wiggles away.

Hey.

He unfastens my jeans then pushes me down,
speedily removing my boots and then my pants. I’m left sitting in
nothing but a black lacy bra and matching underwear; my hair
cascading down around me.

“On your stomach, woman,” Ryan orders, but I
don’t comply immediately.

“I said,” he grabs my thighs and flips me
over, “on-your-stomach.”

I let out a playful scream as I hit the
mattress facedown.

As soon as I hear Ryan undo the zipper of his
jeans my stomach muscles clench. I will never get enough of this
man. He starts gently kissing his way up my back until he reaches
my bra; he unhooks the clasp effortlessly then rips it out from
underneath me. Then there’s nothing, not a touch, or a stroke or a
caress. I crane my head around to see Ryan digging in one of the
nightstand drawers. It’s a pure white piece of rustic furniture,
with soft edges and decorative handles. He pulls out a small bottle
and tosses it on the bed.

“What the hell is that?”

“Massage oil. I hope you like the smell of
peppermint, because I’m giving you a rub down.”

Sweet.
The stress in my back is
killer.

“What did you think it was? Lube?”

“With you, I never know,” I answer.

He smirks and crawls on top of me. “It can
serve a dual purpose,” he divulges devilishly.

I pull my hair away from my neck and coil it
on top of my head; the strands falling flaccidly onto the mattress.
Ryan drips the liquid all over my skin and I jerk from its cold
feel. Then he starts rubbing the small of my back and the oil
warms, causing me to moan as he massages the tension away. With
increasing pressure he works his way up my spine and over my
shoulders, using his thumbs to work out my knots. It sounds like
we’re having sex with all the auditory responses he’s forcing out
of me.
Geez.

I close my eyes, inhale the thick scent of
the peppermint and listen to the dreamy music;
Stay
by
Rihanna is playing softly in the background. I let my thoughts
drift as Ryan manipulates my muscles. No one’s touch compares to
his.

He slides his hands firmly up and down my
back, then kneads over my butt, sneaking one finger inside me.

“Ryan!” I pop my head up from the ‘surprise’
slip.

“Oops,” he says teasingly, but there is a
hint of seduction in his voice.

“Oops, my ass,” I respond cynically.

“And what a nice ass it is,” he rubs his hand
underneath the lace of my cheeky panties.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I like everything about you,” he sucks and
kisses the middle of my back.

“I like everything about you, too,” I reply,
but a small part of me knows that isn’t true.

I try to push the thought out of my head, and
before I have a chance to dwell Ryan says my name.
“
Alana?
”

“Umm hmm?” I answer, focusing on his
hands.

“There’s another reason I brought you
here.”

I pop my eyes open, “What’s the reason?”

He’s quiet for a few moments before he
speaks, “I got a five thousand dollar tip tonight.”

My eyes widen, “Holy shit, from who?”

Ryan has come home with extra large tips in
the past, but never one as big as that.

“I can’t tell you her name, but I can tell
you she’s a huge pop star.”

I recall the screaming coming through the
wall in the VIP area and now I’m positive Ryan was the cause of the
piercing cries.

“That’s huge,” I press my cheek into the
mattress and don’t know what else to say about it.

Ryan sighs, “Alana, I need to know where your
head is at.”

“In terms of what?” I immediately
respond.

“Of us, our future.”

Future?
I stare silently at one of the
large crystal candelabra’s sprinkled around the room, glimmering in
the candlelight.

“You’re going to be done with school
soon-”

“I don’t have a job lined up yet,” I
interrupt him.

“I know, that’s why I need to know,” he
pauses, pressing harder against my muscles causing me to groan.
“The owners approached me a few days ago, they’re expanding.
Opening a Culture in Las Vegas and they want me to headline
it.”

“What?” I push myself up and Ryan rolls off
me. I sit up, covering my bare breasts with my arm; my hair falling
like a golden veil around my body. “Is that what you want? To go to
Vegas?”

“Yes,” he answers and it stops my heart.

“Is this what you were trying to tell me
right before you licked me senseless all afternoon?”

“Sort of.” Ryan’s mouth spreads into a wide,
salacious smile. “But just so we’re clear. I only licked you
senseless because that’s how I wanted to spend my afternoon. Not
because I was keeping it from you. I just didn’t know how to
ask.”

“Ask what?”

“If you’ll come with me.”

“What?”

“Alana, just listen,” he scoots onto his
knees, “This would be major money for me, a chance to set us up for
a good long while. And maybe you can find a job in Vegas? Your
uncle might know someone. And it wouldn’t be permanent. We’ll come
back, because I know New York is where you want to be.”

“New York is where I want to be. But what
about your graphic design business? You’ve been doing so well.”

“It’s been good,” he agrees, “and I’ll still
do it, but it’s going to take me a long time to build a reputable
platform. This opportunity will be a chance for me to put some real
money in the bank. And it will let me support you so you can get
out from under your dad.”

“Is that what this is really about? My
father?” I retort.

“No, not him, us,” Ryan looks anxious, “and
moving forward.”

“Forward?”

“Yes.” He hesitates. “I need to know…what I
mean is…I want to know if…” Ryan is fumbling all over himself and I
have no idea what he’s trying to say, until it dawns on me like the
sun. My heart flutters. He wants to know if I’ll marry him.

I try not to concentrate on the future too
much; my main focus is the present. Finishing law school, getting a
stellar job and living independently; but there’s been times I let
my mind wander past all that. And yes, it’s Ryan I see standing
next to me when I imagine it. But now? It feels so soon. And yet,
indisputably right.

“Ryan,” I interrupt his nervous rambling, “do
you want to know if I’ll marry you?”

He nods his head, his eyes as big as blue
porcelain saucers.

I smile sweetly, “You’re going to have to ask
me to find out.”

His face falls, “That’s your answer?”

I shrug my shoulders; that’s all I’m giving
away.

“What about Vegas?”

I mull over my decision, knowing
wholeheartedly I want to be wherever Ryan is.

“I guess I can take the Bar in both New York
and Nevada.”

“Really? You’ll come?”

“I’ll go, but Ryan.” I pause. “I don’t know
how much longer I can live with you doing this. Especially if…” I
trail off.

“I know baby, I know it’s hard to deal with
sometimes,” he slides down onto his stomach and wraps his arms
around my waist, forcing me down with him. “Just a little while
longer, for our future.”

“It’s already been two years,” I expel a
restless breath.

“Please don’t get your head wrapped around
it, this is supposed to be a stress free night,” he says, running
his fingers down my side.

“Wrapped around it?” I laugh sardonically.
“I’m lying right in the middle of it,” I look up at the white
decorative molding on the ceiling; it reminds me of delicate
filigree.

“I never finished your back rub,” Ryan says,
and I know he’s trying to distract me from my uncertainties. With a
gentle nudge, he urges me to roll over and I do it without
hesitation, because right now, distraction is exactly what I
need.

I don’t want to think, I don’t want to worry.
I don’t want to be reminded that when we leave this room, it won’t
be Ryan walking next to me.

It’ll be Jack the Stripper.

Ryan straddles my legs, and brushes his hands
all over my back, his touch light as a feather. Running his fingers
through my hair, he leans down and kisses my neck. Softly at first,
then with increasing pressure.