Stripped - By Brenda Rothert Page 0,23

someone new before he even had a chance to sort out his feelings for her.

Tomorrow would help him figure out just how deep he was in. Maybe she would strike him the same way she had the first time he’d seen her dancing at the club: as just another woman with a great body.

But as he once again grew hard just thinking of her, he doubted it.

Chapter 6

Abby hadn’t felt nervous before dancing since her early days at Mickey’s, but she did as she stretched on the stage, waiting for Chris to walk through the door she’d left unlocked.

It was mid-morning, and the club was empty. It was so different from the flashing lights, blaring music and crowds of onlookers she was used to that it didn’t even feel like the same place.

She wore a camisole and body-hugging boy shorts, because she had decided not to strip during the dance. It was too intimate. For anyone else, she could, but not Chris.

“Hi,” Chris called as he walked in.

“Hi,” she said, the knot of nervousness in her stomach intensifying as she jumped up. “I got this chair out for you.”

“I get to come up to the stage?” he asked, raising his eyebrows as he climbed the stairs. The chair was on the opposite side of the stage from the pole, so he could see her well.

“Yes. Sit,” she said, disappearing backstage to turn on her music. “Should I start with the new one or warm up with an old one?”

“How many do you have?”

“A lot. I try to do a new one every month. Let’s see…Fiona Apple? Aerosmith? Smashing Pumpkins?”

“Smashing Pumpkins? I used to listen to them. What song is it?”

“Ava Adore.”

“Nice,” he said, smiling. “Just surprise me.”

Abby advanced the digital music player to the Smashing Pumpkins song.

As the music started, she swung her hips, too nervous to meet Chris’ eyes. She moved slowly, rhythmically, hooking her legs around the top of the pole and letting her body slide slowly down to the floor before she reached up to grab the pole and parted her legs into the splits in the air.

She was halfway through the song before she could bring herself to look at Chris, who sat staring at her with his legs open, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward eagerly. The baseball cap he wore made him look young, the ends of his hair flipping up beneath it.

Abby smiled at him as she swayed her back against the pole, bucking her hips as she slowly made her way to the floor. She quickly grabbed the pole again, swinging herself around it until she wrapped her legs around it once more.

Usually Abby was engrossed in the dance, focusing on every touch of her body and flip of her hair she had choreographed along with the steps. But she couldn’t stop thinking of Chris’ eyes on her and wondering what he was thinking. As she moved down the pole, she felt a tingle of arousal at the feel of it between her legs.

As the song ended, she approached Chris, smiling seductively. He opened his mouth to speak and she pressed a fingertip to his lips as the Fiona Apple song started.

She started the lap dance slowly, running her fingertips down his shoulders and arms. His eyes never left hers, and her arousal flared at the heat she felt from him. This was her chance to touch him however she wanted, in the name of the lap dance. She flipped his hat off and ran a hand through his dark blond hair, down his neck and back to his cheek. The day-old stubble gave her an unexpected thrill.

As she straddled his lap, keeping her feet on the floor, Chris’ eyes closed and he inhaled sharply. Abby felt his hardness beneath her and knew he was as turned on as she was. She stroked her fingertips down his cheeks, neck and chest and he threw his head back. As she leaned forward, she grabbed his biceps for support and whispered against his ear.

“Touch me,” she said. His hands moved quickly from his sides up her thighs, to her back, and down to cup her bottom, pulling her tight against him.

Abby’s murmur was unintelligible. It had been a long time since any man had put his hands on her like this and not been shut down within seconds. Her body responded to his immediately, and she was embarrassed by the intensity of her arousal.

He ran one of his large hands