by M. Never
“Next up is one of our premier dancers. So, get ready, set, wet for Jack the Stripper!”
Ginuwine’s “Pony” rips through the speakers, and that’s my cue. It’s the quintessential stripper song. Don’t believe me? Ask Magic Mike.
I groove my way across the room and slither toward the dark-haired girl sitting on the metal chair. She’s decked out in dollars and watching me excitedly. As soon as my foot touches the stage the music changes to a house version of Justin Bieber’s “As Long As You Love Me”. If you’re making a for real? face right now, I want to inform you, this was Demi’s suggestion. And her being her, she convinced me that women’s panties melt for a man who fights to the death for her and gives up everything for love. I was skeptical. But the beat is good, and I could work with it, so I’m giving it a try. And, for the record, I don’t really consider Justin Bieber a man. What the fuck does he know about fighting to the death or giving up everything for love? Spend three minutes in jail after you sacrificed your life, and then maybe we can talk.
I go through the usual motions of my routine. Grinding, undulating, and stirring up the girl in the hot seat as much as the women in the crowd. Divan is right, this group is lively. More so than most. The dark-haired beauty happily plays along with all my ministrations. For a tiny little thing, her persona is enormous. She reminds me of someone I used to know.
“Hold on tight,” I whisper in her ear. Then for spectacle, I lift her up while she’s still seated and flip her around.
The room erupts. That move is always a crowd pleaser. Then I start to unbutton my pants, teasing the girl and the audience with glimpses of my ass. Taking Divan’s advice, I rip off my hat and fling it into the crowd. There’s a wave of shrieks as a few women try to catch it.
I brush some hair out of my eyes, then kneel in front of my willing prey. I catch a better glimpse of her face, and god, she looks so familiar. But I can’t stop and ponder where I know her from since I’m in the middle of a striptease.
“Rip my mask off,” I instruct her, and she pauses for a split second, like maybe she recognizes me, too. Then she slips two fingers underneath it and rips the thing clean off.
She gasps. “Ryan?”
It takes me a moment to realize exactly who is sitting in front of me, but when I do, the world stops revolving. “Emily?” My voice is shaky. No wonder I didn’t recognize her. The last time I saw her, her hair was bleach blonde and shorter than mine.
“Uh huh,” she replies, as stunned as me.
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask in a panic.
“No, just finish quick.”
I nod faintly. And all I can think is — is she here? Are we in the same room, breathing the same air? I feel a little dizzy. The two of you are practically inseparable. Where you are, she is.
I may just throw up.
I do a quick job of dropping my pants, and then I hightail it off the stage. I don’t even bother to stop and pick up the money being thrown at me.
I barricade myself in the staging room and proceed to fight with my locker. It won’t motherfucking open!
“What the fuck got into you?” Divan’s voice booms.
“I need to get dressed.” I pull on the handle frantically.
She’s here. She’s here, and she just watched me drop my pants in front of a room full of fucking strangers. Goddammit, why won’t this thing open!
“Ryan?” I unexpectedly hear my name. It’s spoken by the sweetest voice I’ve ever known. My head snaps up, and when my eyes meet hers, I’m suddenly crushed with a tsunami of emotion.
I can’t move, I can’t speak, and I’m pretty sure the ground is shaking.
She looks the same, she looks so different — she’s the fucking blonde in the gold dress.
She’s also so heartachingly beautiful, hurt, and confused, and it’s all because of me. It’s all my fucking fault. But worst of all? She just disappeared from my sight.
“ALANA…!”
Epilogue
Alana
Giving Up On You
I pack the last box.
I leave for school this afternoon. My first few steps into independence will be ones of heartbreaking agony, because my emotions have been cracked open like a coconut and drained from my body. I’m an empty shell. Which is ironic, because that’s exactly who I was before I met Ryan.
Before he filled my world with light, only to leave me in the dark.
I stare at the little blue sketchbook lying innocently on my bed, next to the box. It’s been taunting me for three weeks. I dare not open it. Not after the last time. Not after that night. Not after those words. Not after he just disappeared.
I’m angry, confused, and hurt, but most of all, I feel so stupid. I let him in. I loved him. I served myself up like a sacrificial lamb, and he didn’t hesitate to destroy me. Ryan will own a part of me forever. A part I can never get back, and it kills me every time I think about it. My first time has been marred, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. There’s no way to amend the experience or wipe away the memory.
The thought drains me mentally.
I keep trying to stifle all these unbearable feelings, but the defiant emotions just spring back no matter how many times I shove them away.
I pick up the sketchbook and pluck at the brown leather string keeping it closed. Inside is every picture Ryan drew for the last three months. It’s our story. It was supposed to be a symbol. An indication of support. Something that said I’d be there for him no matter what. Whether I was at school, or home, or across the country.
I believed in him. And I truly thought he believed in us.
“Knock, knock,” Emily sings as she pokes her head into my room. “All set to start the big, bad institution that is college?”
“I’m packed,” I declare as perky as I can.
“It’s a start.” She stands next to me trying her hardest not to give me a pitiful look. She knows what I’ve been dealing with the last few weeks.
“You doing okay?” she asks delicately.
“Fine,” I reply like I don’t have a care in the world. I take some masking tape and seal the box. I am so ready to get the hell out of here. Out of this house, out of this town, and out of this county. For the first time in my life, I wish I was going to Yale. That way I could be out of the state too.
“Fine. Uh huh. That’s the thirty-seventh ‘fine’ this week. Let’s try again, and this time tell me how you really feel.”
I glance up at Emily with only my eyes. I don’t want to look weak. But at this moment, with one of the few people I trust, in the security of my room, I’ll be honest. “Broken,” I whisper.
“Oh.” Emily throws her arms around me. She’s shorter and tinier than I am, but she feels like a giant wrapped around me. “Honey, you’re only broken if you let him break you.”
“I know you’re right.” I take a deep breath. I will not cry. I refuse. I didn’t cry when he left, and I won’t waste any tears on him now, or ever, for that matter.
“Ryan was a jerk. He fooled us all.” She hugs me tighter. “That asshole was after one thing. His balls should be sliced off and fed to ravenous dogs.”
I snicker. Leave it to Emily to paint a vivid picture.
“Well, if you know where I can find him and a few ravenous dogs, I’d be more than happy to enjoy the show.”
“I bet.” She chuckles sadly. “I wish I never encouraged you to go see him that day. I feel responsible.”
“Em, that’s ridiculous.” I look her right in her sparkling blue eyes. The ones I have always been jealous of. “I went because I wanted to. Yes, you may have given me a nudge, but I have no one to blame but myself. I chose to let him in. I chose to fall in love with him. I take responsibility for all my decisions.”
She frowns. “I know things haven’t been easy for you. With your mother dying and your father, well, being your father. You didn’t deserve this.”
I shrug. “Can’t change the past. But I did learn something fr
om my mistake.”
“What’s that?”
“My father was right. Emotions are nothing but weakness.”
“No, Alana, no. You can’t believe that. I refuse to let you believe that. You don’t want to end up like him.”
“I don’t think I have much of a choice. We share the same genetic makeup.”
“So do we,” she argues. “And so do you and your mother. You should remember that.”
“How long were you waiting to use that ammunition on me?” My mother is always a soft spot.
“When I needed it most.” She smiles deviously.
“You’re as conniving as your father.”
Emily grabs my face. “And you’re nothing like yours.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“I am. And I’m older, so you have to listen to me.”
I actually laugh. She used to say that to me all the time when we were younger. Especially when she wanted me to do something we weren’t supposed to.
There’s a knock at the door. “Alana?” my father calls before he enters.
“Yes, come in.” Emily and I separate as the coldest man I have ever encountered walks into my room. He examines both Emily and me thoroughly before he speaks. “The car is here. I’m going to send up the chauffeur for your things.”
“Okay, Daddy,” I respond rigidly.
“Emily.” He addresses her aloofly. “When are you off?”
“Tonight,” she answers.
He nods. “Safe trip.” Then he walks out the door.
Emily shakes her head with a you’ve got to be kidding me expression. “I wonder if we sent him to live in an igloo if he’d notice the temperature change?”
“Stop.” I laugh, pushing her arm playfully.
“What time does your plane leave?” I ask.
“Ten.” She picks up the sketchbook and inspects it. “I’m taking the red-eye so I can sleep.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“Yeah, after four years of traveling back and forth to Pepperdine, you learn a few things.” She smiles. Emily graduates this year, and I wonder if she’ll make the West Coast her permanent home when she does. I secretly hope not.
“What’s this?” She wiggles the small blue book in her hand. I wilt.
“It was for Ryan. A going away, remember me present of sorts.”
“Can I?” She pulls at the leather string.
“Go ahead.” I shrug indifferently; even though I’m falling to pieces on the inside. I don’t want to be reminded. I want it all to go away. And in that book is the memoir of mine and Ryan’s summer together.
She flips open the cover and reads aloud. “He is everything my head says is right, my heart says it wants, and my body can’t deny.”
I nearly crumble. I wrote those words our last night together. They startled me right out of a dead sleep. They were the words I never thought I’d find. Emily skims through the rest of the book. I know every picture that’s inside; the one of me he sketched on our second date, several of our beach, the sunsets, one of our cars parked next to each other, the city skyline, and a beautiful mermaid with a vibrant blue tail.
“Wow,” she says, after she closes the book. “Ryan has a little bit of talent.”
“A little bit,” I meekly reply. A moment later, a man dressed in a black suit and dark sunglasses is knocking on the door.
His presence indicates it’s time to go. I point to the boxes and suitcases I’d like him to take. He gets right to work.
I give Emily a melancholy smile. I always hate this part. Saying goodbye never gets easier.
She hugs me tightly. “I’ll call you when I get in. Check up on things.”
“Yes please.”
“Have some fun. Forget about Ryan. Move on,” she advises.
“I’ll do my best.”
“For you, your best is the center of excellence.”
I roll my eyes. “Here.” She tries to hand me the book back, but I refuse to take it. “No. Get rid of it for me.”
“What?”
“Get rid of it.” I push her hand.
“How?”
“I don’t know. Throw it away, shred it, burn it for all I care. Just get it out of my sight.”
Emily nods then tucks the book under her arm. I regret giving it to her for a fraction of a second. That book is the only piece of Ryan I have left.
It, and a forced goodbye.
To be continued…
Thank you for purchasing Stripped From You! If you’d like to know how Alana and Ryan’s story ends, you can find out in Strip Me Bare!! Don’t wait! Available now!
About the Author
M. Never is a USA Today bestselling author of dark and contemporary romance. Her females are fierce and her alphas are magnetizing, just like the romance she provokes between them. She casts a spell, weaving one wonderous word at a time. A native of new Jersey, she is now a Maryland transplant juggling life the way one would juggle knives —carefully reckless. She has a dependence on sushi, a fetish for boots, and is stalked by a clingy pit bull named Apache. Writing is her passion, but readers are her love.
Also by M. Never
Books by M. Never
Owned (Decadence After Dark Book 1)
Claimed (Decadence After Dark Book 2)
Ruined (A Decadence After Dark Epilogue)
The Decadence After Dark Box Set (Books 1–3)
Lie With Me (Decadence After Dark Book 4)
Elicit (Decadence After Dark Book 5)
Moto: A MFM Ménage Romance
Trinity: A MMF Ménage Romance
Ghostface Killer
The Southern Nights Series
www.mneverauthor.com
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