back!” I am yelling in frustration, hopping up and down, trying to grab my phone. I can feel the air swoosh all around my private parts and I immediately stop jumping.
Gotta watch it before I expose my bare ass to everyone.
“No recordings allowed,” the firefighter stripper says, smiling at me.
I glower back. “Please. I’m not going to record you guys.”
He grips my shoulder and gently pushes me so I fall back onto the couch behind me, gaping up at him. I glance to my left to see Caroline is sitting in a chair from the dining table, the other firefighter standing in front of her, his hands resting on his belt like he’s ready to drop his pants at any moment.
Freaking great. Looks like I’m somehow the first victim along with the bride-to-be.
Music starts playing, some popular song that gets heavy radio play, but always with equally heavy edits. This is the full-blown explicit version we’re listening to, and the lyrics are filthy dirty.
The stripper in front of me starts gyrating his hips, slipping each suspender off before he reaches for the hem of his pristine white T-shirt. He tears that sucker off, revealing his tanned, well-muscled chest, and while I can admit he’s not bad-looking—sure wish he would remove the cheesy aviators—I feel absolutely nothing. No tingling between my legs, nothing.
Not that a stripper has ever made me feel that particular way. All the tingling I’m currently experiencing only happens when I think of Mitch.
God, he’s probably getting impatient, wondering where I’m at. Most of the girls are surrounding Caroline, since she’s the one this entire show is for, though I spot Candice making a beeline upstairs.
Lucky Candice.
“Hey.” I sit up, my gaze locked on the stripper’s face. He shifts away a little bit, pausing in his movements. “Go dance on the bride to be.”
He frowns. I’m sure he’s shocked I’m putting a stop to this.
I hold out my hand. “And give me my phone, please.”
He pulls it out of his back pocket and slaps it into my palm. “You’re cute.”
“I’m taken,” I tell him, rising to my feet. “But thanks for the compliment.”
He watches me head for the stairs. “You’re not going to stick around?” he calls after me.
Aw, he sounds positively disappointed. I’m kind of shocked.
I glance over my shoulder. “I think I’ve seen enough.” I reach into my purse and wave a twenty-dollar bill. “For you.”
The stripper hurries over to me and snatches the money from my fingers. Greedy bastard. “You sure you don’t want a lap dance?”
Ew. “No thank you,” I say breezily, just before I turn and run up the stairs, gripping the hem of my skirt tightly so I don’t show the stripper all my goods.
That would be embarrassing.
Once I reach the top of the stairs, I notice Candice’s bedroom door is closed. My door is closed too.
Just knowing Mitch is waiting for me in there makes me all jittery inside.
Anticipation rippling through me, I approach my bedroom. Rest my hand on the door handle for a moment before I open it.
There’s no light on, but the curtains are drawn back, showing off the fabulous view of the lit-up city. It’s just enough light to cast Mitch in perfect, mysterious shadow, his big body sitting in the middle of the bed, a bunch of pillows stacked behind him. His phone is by his side, and I’m pretty sure he’s completely naked beneath the sheets.
My mouth waters just looking at him.
“You took longer than one minute,” he says, his voice like velvet smoothing over my skin.
“I got distracted by a stripper,” I tell him truthfully.
He raises a brow, his mouth tight. I don’t think he likes my answer. “Really?”
Nodding, I murmur, “Really,” as I start to approach the bed. I am feeling confident. On top of the world. I have a gorgeous man waiting for me in bed. I am looking hot in my little black dress, and I don’t have any panties on, which is making me hyper aware of the fact that I’m pulsating with need between my legs.
“Did he wave his dick in your face?” he asks darkly.
I burst out laughing. “You’re the only one who does that.”
Mitch grins, and it’s a sight to see. Be still my heart. When he looks so happy, all that golden scruff on his jaw, the messy light brown hair, the sparkle in his whiskey-colored eyes, he is extra handsome. “Probably going to do it again tonight.”
“I don’t mind.” I rest a knee on the