The Substitute Stripper

by Ari Thatcher

  The Substitute Stripper

  © Copyright 2012 Ari Thatcher

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Aileen Fish

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please go to http://aileenfish.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  About the Author

  Book List

  Chapter One

  Bree Simmons held the collar of her wool coat closed as the wind off the ocean blasted past the front of the office building. She should have worn pants to work, but her little plaid skirt was so much more fun. More fitting to the mood she’d been in when she woke. Flirty. Dangerous. It was Friday, the end of a long week, and she planned to make the most of the beginning of her weekend.

  “Bree, wait up!” Ash Uberman, the hunky graphic artist who worked two cubicles away from hers trotted up. His blond hair danced in the blowing air. “Whew, this wind is crazy.”

  “Yes, and thanks for making me stand in it longer. What’s up?”

  He smiled and she forgot how cold her legs were. “I need a favor. Huge favor.”

  They were friendly enough to have lunch on occasion, often with a few other coworkers, but other than the major crush she had on him, she wouldn’t call them friends. Still, with the right kind of favor, that could change. Or she could hope so. “Depends. What kind of favor?”

  “I need a date.”

  She laughed loudly at the outrageousness of that statement. “You need a date? I hear you on the phone all the time, baby this, sugar that. Someone stand you up?”

  He glanced around then took her elbow and walked toward the parking lot. “It’s a long story. Can I buy you a drink?”

  Dying to find out what was going on, she said, “Sure.”

  She followed him to a small pub not far from the office and he found them a small table in a corner near the fireplace, which she was very grateful to find burning brightly. She took off her coat and draped it over the chair while Ash went to the bar to get their drinks. She was a bit surprised when he came back with her favorite, a strawberry stripper. The man paid attention.

  He sat and poured his ale into a frosty glass. “Now, then. The favor. I need a date to a wedding.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “One of your sugar babies can’t help you out?”

  “I don’t want to ask any of them. This is important.”

  She sipped her drink while she let that digest. It was too important to ask one of his bimbettes, so he was asking her. She shivered, and blamed it on the cold drink, not the thought that he would ask her to do him an important favor. “So, when’s the wedding?”

  “Next weekend.”

  “Weekend,” she repeated. “Not next Saturday or next Sunday. They have some special ritualistic ceremony or something?”

  “No. The wedding is at the Snowshoe Mountain Lodge. I have to be there Friday night for the bachelor party. The wedding is Saturday. I plan to come home Sunday.”

  A weekend at the lodge, and all she had to do was show up at a wedding and reception. Hello. She’d be nuts not to go. If Ash wasn’t interested in warming her bed, she was sure she could find a lonely skier who’d be game. “I pretend to be your date and you pay for the weekend?”

  His cool blue eyes locked on hers as if searching for something. “Well, yeah, if you have to pretend, I guess that still works.”

  Aww. That cute puppy sound went off in her head and tugged at her heart. He wanted her for a real date. He was too cute. “I’m sorry, you said you needed a favor so I assumed pretending to like you was the favor.”

  Shit! She should just shove her whole boot in her mouth, since her foot was so far in. “Wait, I didn’t mean that. I meant—well, I don’t know what I meant. I’m a bitch, what can I say. I know, how’s this? I would love to be your date for the wedding.”

  He smiled and took a quick swig of his beer. “Thanks. I can’t tell you how important this is.”

  “You know, you could have saved me a lot of embarrassing moments here if you had just asked me to go as your date.”

  He looked around the room, avoiding her gaze. “I wasn’t sure you’d go. I mean, I guess I should tell you I’m the best man, so everyone is going to be looking at who I bring to the wedding.”

  She was a trophy date. This kept getting better and better. “And you think they’ll be impressed that you’re with me?”

  His eyes widened and mouth went slack, as if she’d lost her mind. “Well, yeah. Have you looked in the mirror lately? Looked around the room?”

  Unable to help herself, she glanced at the other patrons and caught more than a few guys watching her. Okay, so in her little red plaid schoolgirl skirt, tight sweater and killer boots, she could turn heads. She knew that. But she was far from the most beautiful girl around. When she turned back to Ash, she caught him staring at her boobs. They swelled in acknowledgement and sent waves of warmth through her belly.

  “So, who are the happy couple?” She toyed with her straw to have an excuse to put her arms in front of her. She knew her nipples had to be visible.

  “Mark, the groom, went to UCSB with me, and he’s marrying the girl he met there. They dated a bit in college, went their separate ways, but met up again recently and really connected.”

  “How sweet. And all your college buds will probably be there. The bachelor party ought to be wild.”

  He nodded. “It had better be. I’m in charge. It’s been hard to set up a party at the lodge but we’ve reserved the main room for the night and I’ve arranged for porno and a stripper.”

  “Just add alcohol and stir.” She raised her glass in a toast before taking another sip.

  “There’s something else I should tell you.”

  Something in his voice gave her pause. He had a girlfriend? He’s gay? The bride was a celebrity? She hated when people used that warning tone over nothing.

  “Mark’s sister is my ex.”

  She made a sympathetic face. “Ooh, you have to see your ex-girlfriend. That hurts.”

  “Ex-wife.”

  She choked on the peanut she was chewing. “You were married? I didn’t know.” She didn’t know anything about him, now that she thought about it. He could be an ex-con, or president of a biker gang. As she watched the emotions working over his face, and really looked at the sweetness there, the scroungy, reddish-blond facial hair that refused to become a five-o’clock shadow no matter how many days he grew it, and the gentlest baby-blues she’d ever seen, she knew he couldn’t hide any sort of wicked past.

  “It was brief. She wanted a CEO and I was just a guy who drew cartoons for games.”

  Her jaw dropped. “Does she know the awards you’ve gotten for those cartoons? How the gamers go on about your characters?” The woman was blind if she
didn’t see the talent Ash had.

  He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’m happier without her. She’s happier with Pierce Henderson, the son of the CEO of Middleton Finance.”

  Bree wanted to hug him, but instead she just smiled. “Her loss.”

  “Thanks.”

  A week later she rode the elevator in her apartment building with Ash carrying her suitcase. They’d left work early because of a storm heading toward the lodge. They hoped to beat it up the mountain.

  Bree had to lean back in the passenger seat with her eyes clamped shut, and trust Ash to navigate the windy roads. She hated the drop-offs, hated blind curves at night, and when you added in lightly falling snow, she needed a good stiff drink.

  “How are you doing?” Ash reached across and squeezed her hand.

  “I’ll be better when we get there. Although I might need another hour or two to stop shaking.”

  “I’m sorry about the weather.”

  “It couldn’t be helped. What’s your ex’s name?”

  “Jillian.”

  “Well, I hope we don’t run into Jillian until some of the green has left my complexion.”

  He laughed and went back to concentrating on the road. Bree opened her eyes and watched him, his face lit by the dash lights. How sad he’d ended up with a woman who couldn’t appreciate him. He was such a nice guy. In a good way. Nice, and hot and funny. She always knew when someone had stopped in his cubicle because of the laughter ringing out.

  When Ash turned the car into the lodge parking lot, Bree sat up and sighed with relief. With any luck, Sunday would be sunny and they could leave in the daylight.

  Ash carried their luggage and Bree held up her dress bag, away from the dirty snow piled near the walkway. He took care of registration and got their key cards and led her back out into the covered passageway to the wing where their room was.

  “Who plans a wedding in the winter in the mountains?” she muttered, holding the lapels of her coat closed.

  “Mark and Susie are avid skiers.”

  “I like to ski, too, but behind a boat. And with no snow around.”

  He grinned. “I’ll take a Jet Ski any day.”

  He opened the door to their room and let her enter. She glanced at the queen-sized bed and wondered if they’d get any use out of it. She was willing, and she thought he was. She’d even packed a skimpy new bit of lingerie to help things along if he wasn’t sure about her interest.

  As she hung her dress and unpacked, he checked his cell phone for messages. After listening to his voicemail, he swore and tossed the phone on the bed. Grabbing his garment bag from where he’d draped it over a chair, he strode past her to the closet.

  “Bad news?”

  “Nah, just something I should have expected. I’m not the guy you want to plan your bachelor party.”

  “Uh-oh, what happened?”

  “Nothing major. The stripper cancelled, is all. She’s afraid to drive up the mountain and get stuck in the snow.”

  “I’m sorry, Ash. That sucks. But you have movies and lots of drinks, right?”

  “Yeah, but that’s not a real party. That’s a bunch of frat boys hanging out.”

  Bree walked to the mini fridge and looked inside. No alcohol, but there was plenty of bottled water. She opened one and sat on the edge of the bed. “How close is the town?”

  “I don’t know. But the only strippers I found online were off the mountain. I guess there isn’t much work for one in a town of three-hundred people.”

  She stared at her bottle, swirling the water around as her thoughts wandered. She’d bet Ash didn’t know how she put herself through art school. And if he did, he wouldn’t have the nerve to ask her to help. But no, that would be a really bad idea. She shoved the thought aside.

  Ash opened his laptop and began tapping keys. He had to be hunting for entertainment. She remembered the look on his face when he mentioned his ex-wife, and how he hadn’t been good enough for her. He really wanted to make an impression on his friends, let them see he was more than a gamer boy.

  This was important to him. If she had any heart at all, she would help. He might not even accept her offer. But she had to ask. “Um, Ash? If you don’t find another stripper, I have an idea.”

  He looked up, his expression blank. She stood, set down her water and straightened her sweater as she walked toward him. “Did I ever tell you how I put myself through college?”

  Shaking his head, he asked, “What does that have to do with the party?”

  Should she do it? It couldn’t hurt. Grabbing the hem of her sweater in both hands, she lifted it over her head and tossed it in his face. Strutting closer, she turned his chair, planted her hands on the arms and leaned forward, allowing her breasts to practically fall out of her demi-bra. “I was a stripper.”

  Ash’s gaze locked on her breasts and he appeared to stop breathing. She’d always been proud of her D-cup implants. Best investment she ever made. Even after she quit dancing and got a “real” job, she loved the way her clothes fit. She was tall enough to carry them off without looking plastic, and her tiny waist made them look that much bigger.

  When he still didn’t speak, Bree stood and reached behind her back for the hooks of her bra. “Should I show you a sample routine?”

  He shook his head. “No, God no. If you do that I won’t make it to the party.” He glanced at his watch. “I don’t have much choice but to use you.”

  Ouch. That was payback for her lack of excitement when he asked her to come with him to the wedding. “Well, hey, I don’t want to spoil the party.”

  With a confused frown, he shook his head. “No, no way would you spoil anything. The guys will love you.”

  “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  Ash pushed back his chair and walked away from her. “Yeah. I guess.”

  Picking up her sweater and holding it in front of her breasts, she tried to figure him out. “If you’d rather I didn’t...I mean, I guess you don’t want everyone to see me strip tonight and then I show up as your date tomorrow. That wouldn’t impress anyone.”

  He laughed. “Well, yeah, it would impress the fuck out of the guys but they’d never admit it.”

  “But it would make Jillian think you’d turned out exactly like she expected. Frat boy dates stripper girl.”

  His smile was sweet. She walked over to him, took his chin in her hands and leaned closer. Pressing her lips to his, she tasted the mint of his gum on his breath. He kissed her back gently, but with restrained passion she sensed just beyond her reach.

  When she pulled away, his eyes were smoky. He took a breath. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  “Are you sure you want me to? It’s your call, Ash.” Before he could answer, an idea hit her. “Wait. How long do I have to get ready?”

  “About an hour and a half.”

  “Perfect! They’ll never recognize me as your date tomorrow.”

  Taking a step back, he looked down her figure and back up again. “Somehow I can’t believe that. Maybe if you wore a fat suit tomorrow.”

  She laughed. “I’m serious. It’ll work. Is it a plan?”

  “I guess it is.”

  Chapter Two

  Ash double-checked the DVD-player and movies one more time and raked his hair back off his face. He was crazy for letting Bree strip for them tonight. What was he thinking? He could care less what Jillian thought of his date being a stripper. He’d grown past that point a long time ago when he accepted his artistic talent as valuable. He had a job doing what he loved. He made damned-good money. In a few years, he could think about looking for an art director position if he decided to.

  No, Jillian didn’t play into his thoughts at all where Bree was concerned. How was he going to handle it when his friends began sniffing after her? Pawing at her? Shit. He didn’t want to share.

  Hell, it had taken him four months to get the courage to even ask her out. She was so fucking hot, he lost the nerve any time he tried
to suggest anything more than drinks with the crowd from work.

  And now he was letting his buddies have first crack at her? Fuck no.

  Yeah, that would make the party one to remember, if he policed the entire night making the guys keep their hands to themselves. His friends would never let him live it down. Ash needed to suck up and be a man about it. Trust that if she were interested in him, she’d be going back to his room at the end of the night and not someone else’s.

  The door opened, letting in a blast of cold air and raucous laughter. Mark and the ushers were there. “It’s party time,” Ash yelled.

  Chris answered with a howl. Ash turned up the music as the others headed to the bar. The porno movies played silently on the big screen in the background while the guys laughed and toasted Mark.

  Ash repeatedly glanced at his watch and worried that Bree would back out. Or that she’d show up. He wasn’t sure which was worse. Everyone seemed to be having fun. Just seeing each other after four years made for good times.

  Their voices had gotten louder after a few drinks as everyone loosened up. A total of eight guys were there, not including the bartender. A few guests probably hadn’t wanted to make the snowy drive in the dark, and he assumed they wouldn’t be coming.

  Just when he was about to step outside and call her, Bree slipped in the door. In the dim lighting, Ash had to look twice to be certain it was really Bree. She’d curled her hair into tight coils. All those luscious miles of dark blonde locks tossed about her head in wild abandon. He sucked in a breath. Even with her heavy coat on, she was a knockout.

  Her green eyes were heavily lined, her eye shadow darker than he’d seen her use before and it made them even more beautiful. She looked like she walked out of a photo shoot. Ash walked over to her, trying hard not to grin like a horny teenager. “You made it.”

  “Did you doubt me?” She tipped her head slightly. Even with her smile he could see her lips were slightly fuller that at work, and they sparkled in the moody light of the lodge.