Stripped Bare Read Online Free PDF Page B

She’s called all the shots this week. I truly don’t care what we do or where we go, as long as we’re together and she’s happy.
    Tara considers it some sort of breakthrough.
    “I miss baking,” she says as she starts to prepare the frosting. “It’s so good to have a few days off from the club.”
    She doesn’t mention the club much, and for that I’m thankful. Even though I know the rules are strictly enforced, the realization that strangers pay to watch her strip makes me a little deranged.
    My sister calls that a breakthrough, too, but I think it just makes me sound like a hypocrite.
    Needing to be closer, I slide off the stool and walk toward the counter, peeking over her shoulder. She’s working away, carefully frosting the delicious looking cake. Very gently, I slide my hand along her shoulder, brushing her hair to one side.
    She visibly trembles, and I smile.
    I love how her body responds to my slightest touch. How goosebumps erupt on her flesh when I stand a little closer, letting my nose skim along the side of her neck. Her quiet little moan when I let my lips briefly brush across her skin.
    Tesla places the bowl of frosting on the counter and slowly turns around.
    “You have a little frosting . . .” I whisper, trailing my finger along the tiny sliver of chocolate on her cheek. I wipe it away, and she reaches for my hand, pulling my finger close to her lips. Her tongue peeks out, licking the chocolate from my fingertip, and I don’t even try to hide my groan.
    “Kiss me,” she whispers.
    “Forgive me.”
    Forgive me for being such an asshole.
    Forgive me for not taking the time to realize how special you truly are.
    Forgive me.
    “I do.”
    Her words are beautiful.
    She’s beautiful.
    “I forgive you,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around my neck.
    I dip my head and softly brush my lips against hers, and my body trembles as I struggle to hang on to my last shred of self-restraint.
    “You’re holding back. Kiss me, Jax. Please . . .”
    Her soft plea makes me come unhinged, and we swallow each other’s groans as I roughly pull her lips to mine. My entire body comes to life, breathing her in, tasting her tongue, feeling her body as I trap her between me and the counter. Her fingers weave in my hair, tugging me closer, and it’s heaven and hell and everything in between.
    Nothing scares me.
    Ever.
    But the way I feel about this girl fucking terrifies me.
     

 
    It’s been three nights since our first kiss. Three long, sexually frustrating nights filled with hot kisses and tender touches. We’re both dying to have sex, but something keeps holding us back.
    We want it to be special.
    We want it to be right.
    Most of the time, we want it to be right now , but one of us always comes to our senses.
    At this point, we’re just cock-blocking each other, and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.
    But I can’t cry, because I’m at work.
    I hate my job. I’ve always hated my job, but the past few weeks have made me realize that the money really isn’t worth it anymore. When I moved to the city, I’d moved with the dream of becoming a prima ballerina. Once that dream was shattered, my options were limited. I could have moved back home and lived with my parents, but their one requirement was that I go to college, and I was just a little too tired of having to follow their rules. Besides, I wanted to prove I could make it on my own. Sure, I could have gone the more respectable route of teaching dance, but rent is expensive and teaching doesn’t pay shit. When I saw the ad for Rick’s club, I’d jumped at the chance. The fact that he runs a clean establishment always justified it in my mind, and I’ve never once felt ashamed for getting the chance to do what I love to do and make a living, too.
    But I want more.
    I live in a small apartment and save every dime I can. I have a goal in mind—my own, personal take-this-job-and-shove-it milestone—and I am this close to hitting