Stripped - By Brenda Rothert Page 0,29

cleared her mind and focused on the dance, reminding herself it was nothing more than rehearsed moves on her part. She ran her hair down her customer’s face, chest and legs, then straddled him and moved with the music.

When his hands locked around her hips, Abby froze momentarily, wanting to tell him to stop. She closed her eyes, pretending to be aroused, and lowered herself onto him. He reached around and unfastened her bra, throwing it to the floor and reaching for her breasts.

He wasted no time, grinding himself into her, not bothering with the illusion of a dance. Abby felt like she was suffocating, and hot tears sprang to her eyes. The feel of him against her reminded her of the dance she had done for Chris, only this was wrong. Everything about it was wrong. This wasn’t the least bit arousing -- it was disgusting.

His breathing was heavy, and Abby felt like the walls were closing in on her. As the strange man’s hand smacked her ass, she gasped at the immediate, scorching pain it caused.

“Fuck yes, you like that, don’t you?” he groaned, forcing her hips against him.

“No, no, stop,” Abby said, pushing away from him. She had to get out of the room and into a place where she could breathe. She couldn’t do this, not even for Mickey.

Her arm burned as his fingers locked around it, and Abby pulled desperately against him as she stumbled from the bed.

“Get your ass back in this bed,” he ordered. When Abby looked at him, she saw Tim’s face, and she knew she would vomit if she didn’t get out of the room.

“Joe!” she screamed, her voice strangled. The pain in her arm was searing, and she couldn’t stop her tears from falling.

It felt like forever, but she knew it only took Joe a few seconds to get to her. He rushed at the customer, forcing his hand to unclamp from her arm. She wrapped her hand around her hot, throbbing upper arm as she made her way across the club to get backstage.

“Nikki, what happened?” Mickey asked, sounding aggravated.

“Don’t talk to me. I’m leaving,” Abby said tearfully. She threw on a cotton dress, jeans and her warm wool coat, not bothering to find a new bra and panties. Though she had escaped the room, she still felt the choking terror that had gripped her there.

When she got into the car, she locked the doors and pulled out of the parking lot quickly. She tried to calm herself as she drove, but nothing seemed to work. She felt dirty and used, more so than she had ever felt at the club.

When Abby parked in the lot of the Benedict Emergency Room, she couldn’t bring herself to leave the safety of her locked car. She knew it was irrational, but she feared James Rockhold would be waiting for her outside the car. She reached for her phone and dialed Chris, hoping he would answer.

“Hey,” he said softly. Fresh tears – of relief – flowed down Abby’s cheeks.

“Chris,” she said, anguished.

“Abby, what’s wrong?”

“I’m just being stupid,” she said, now sobbing.

“Are you at the club? Do you need me to come there?”

“No. I’m in the parking lot.”

“The parking lot of the club?”

“No…of the hospital.”

“Jesus, Abby, are you okay? You’re really scaring me.”

“Can you come out here?”

“I’ll be right there.”

Abby gripped the steering wheel as she waited, laying her head on it as she continued crying. When Chris knocked on the window, she jumped before she recognized him and reached for the door lock.

“Are you hurt?” he asked. She shook her head as she stepped out of the car and pressed herself into him, sobbing loudly.

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Her body calmed against his after a couple minutes, and she looked up at him.

“Tell me what happened,” he said.

“Can we go inside? I’m cold.”

Chris kept his arm around her shoulders as they made their way through the double doors of the emergency room, down the long hallway and into the sleeping room that was becoming familiar to Abby. He turned the lights on this time, sitting her on the bed and pulling up a chair so he was across from her.

“Mickey asked me to do a bed dance,” she said.

“Did you tell him no?”

“I did at first, but he talked me into it.”

He closed his eyes, and she couldn’t read his expression.

“It was horrible,” she said. “I felt like I was suffocating, and his hands were all over me. I