Home > Stripped Bare(4)

Stripped Bare(4)
Emma Hart

“Yeah, you can, and you will.” Allie laughed loudly and lifted her shot.

We downed them in sync, and I shuddered as the strong, cold liquid burned a harsh path down my throat. Should have gotten a Blow Job instead... I’d never mixed well with tequila, but I knew, if I’d refused, there were three of them and one of me.

I’d refused once before.

I’d ended up very, very drunk.

“Are we going down to the stage?” Lucie asked as I finished my previously interrupted champagne-pouring and put the bottle back. “These one-dollar bills aren’t going to tuck themselves into boxers, you know.”

“In a minute.” I couldn’t help the grin that formed on my face. I was going to be killed a hundred times over for the shenanigans I was about to pull, but what kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t organize a lap dance for Allie?

That’s right. I’d be a shit one. Besides, I’d booked it when I’d called and paid over the phone, so it wasn’t like I could cancel. She was gonna be all kinds of pissed off, but one day, she’d thank me for it. Hopefully, that day was tomorrow.

A guy wearing nothing but tight, black briefs approached the table, and from beneath dark, floppy hair, brown eyes scanned the four of us. Allie paused when his gaze zeroed in on her and her bright-pink sash, and he grinned slowly, totally sexily, and closed the distance between them.

Her eyes shot to me, and it was a mix between horror and excitement. My own smile was literally glued to my face as he leaned down and whispered something in her ear and she nodded. Jaz’s following laugh was loud as she realized along with Lucie what was about to happen.

Allie was about to get some real-time peen.

The girl in question was blushing furiously as the stripper pulled her to the edge of the seat and all but straddled her. She was torn between obviously wanting to kill me and wanting to see what was going to happen next, and given the fact that she was under probably one hundred and eighty pounds of ripped muscle, she was waiting to see what would happen next... Whether she liked it or not.

The stripper flexed his hips, light glinting off his flawless skin. His muscles rippled with each move he made as he treated Allie to some fine-ass moves. Seriously—no man should have been able to move as easily as he did. The last time I saw hips snaking like that was while watching a Shakira music video on MTV—a long-ass time ago.

He encouraged Allie to touch him, which only made her cheeks blaze brighter. Still, she looked more delighted than I’d thought she would after running her hands over some guy’s abs.

“Fifty bucks says Joe doesn’t have abs like that,” Lucie yelled into my ear as Allie once again touched the stripper’s stomach as he sat on her and ground his hips against her.

“Joe doesn’t have abs at all,” Jaz threw in. “He has one ab, and it’s his entire stomach. She’s probably rethinking her choice of man. Look at her, all happy and shit.”

I felt a little smug. She’d been so apprehensive about this plan, but she was happy now.

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.

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