Taking It Off

by Claire Kent

  “True.” He cleared his throat. “Hello, Elizabeth.”

  She chuckled. “Hello to you too.”

  “Are you enjoying yourself tonight?”

  “Eh. It’s still not really my thing, you know.”

  His gaze heated up just a little. “The night isn’t over yet.”

  She blushed even more. “I know.” She took a deep breath and forced herself to be reasonable and mature and hold fast to the decision she’d made earlier. She wasn’t going to melt into a puddle just because he looked at her that particular way. “I did want to…I just wanted to…”

  His brows drew together. “You wanted to what?”

  “I wanted to say that I had a great time on Saturday night and I don’t regret it at all, but I’m not sure it should happen again.”

  His expression changed, but only in the way it grew briefly still. “I see. You said you’re not sure?”

  “I am sure,” she corrected. “It shouldn’t happen again.”

  “We were really good together.”

  “I know. Physically.” She felt a little hot flash as she remembered just how good they’d been together. “And for a one-time thing it was great. But I’m not really interested in anything more.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “I think maybe you are interested.”

  “Well, of course I’m interested…physically. But I need more than that. And if you go with only the physical for too long, it just starts feeling…meaningless to me.” She checked his expression, suddenly afraid she might have offended him. “It’s not you. It’s nothing about you. It’s just…”

  “It’s not what you’re looking for.” He didn’t appear upset or angry. His expression had barely altered in any way. Something felt a little off to her about the way he was holding himself, but there were no visible signs that she could pin down. “I get it. But I’m telling you right now that you’re going to change your mind.”

  She dropped her eyes. “I don’t think so.”

  “We’ll see.” He gave her another smoldering look. “Just know that I’m the guy to go to if you ever want to indulge that meaningless side of yourself again.”

  Elizabeth smiled, telling herself she was never going to take him up on the offer, and a little bit sorry that was the case. To drag her mind away from fantasies about being with Matt again, she asked, “Do you do this a lot?”

  He frowned. “Do what?”

  “Help women indulge the meaningless side of themselves. Do you do it a lot?”

  For a moment she was afraid she’d offended him when he went very still, but then he gave her a leisurely smile. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious. I wondered if it was a perk of the job. Being surrounded by a lot of horny women, I mean.”

  “Oh, I see.” He shook his head. “We create a fantasy for women here. We don’t actually make it come to life.”

  “You made it come to life for me.” She thought she was being light and casual, but she suddenly heard the words and realized how much they revealed. Her cheeks warmed.

  Matt chuckled. “Did I really?”

  “You know what I mean. I didn’t mean to imply anything negative about you or any of the other guys, but it seems like it would be pretty…easy for lines to be crossed.”

  He shook his head, looking out at the crowd of women. “It’s easy for some guys—when they first start. But after a while you stop…”

  When he trailed off, she leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. “You stop what?”

  “You stop thinking about what you do as having much to do with sex. You stop thinking about yourself or the women that way.”

  “How do you think about them, then, if not about sex?”

  He shook his head, still not looking in her direction. “It’s a job. It’s a role you play. You do this thing, and you get a certain kind of response. You do this other thing, and you get a different response. It’s only exciting at the beginning.”

  For some reason the words rang true to Elizabeth, as if she could understand them, as if she would feel similarly if she were in the same position. She felt closer to him somehow—in a way that really surprised her. “So you don’t make a habit of fucking your customers?”

  He finally turned back to meet her gaze. “I don’t fuck any of them.” When she opened her mouth to make the obvious objection, he went on, “Except you.”

  She experienced a silly thrill of pride at the thought that she was his one exception, even though she suspected that it was in part because he enjoyed a challenge and her dislike of the sexy routines posed an obvious one for him.

  “I actually have a rule against it here,” Matt added.

  “A rule against what?”

  “Fucking customers.”

  “Why do you have a rule like that?”

  “It just seemed smart. I grew up seeing a lot of…complications that happened when lines like that were crossed. I saw…”

  “Who did you see?” she asked when he trailed off.

  He let out a long exhale. “My dad. It was…messy. I didn’t want to end up like him.”

  She was more curious about him than ever—about what his father had done, what his childhood had been like, but obviously Matt had already said more than he’d intended, and she didn’t want to push it. Responding to the conflict in his expression, she murmured, “I’m sure you’re nothing like him at all.”

  “I hope not.” He cleared his throat and said in a different tone, “Anyway, that’s why I have a rule.”

  She blinked, suddenly realizing something. “So you broke your own rule?”

  He gave her a little smile. “Yes, I broke my own rule. And I’ll be happy to do so again, whenever you decide to change your mind.”

  —

  Melissa’s wedding was at four in the afternoon the following Saturday.

  Elizabeth had been looking forward to it, since she loved weddings and was sure Melissa and her husband-to-be were well matched and would be happy together.

  She was in a generally good mood. She was almost proud of herself for handling the whole thing with Matt so well. She’d never had a one-night stand before, but there didn’t seem to be any negative consequences to this one, except continued lustful feelings that she assumed would eventually dissipate. It had been the best sex she’d ever had, and she would always have the memory of doing something wild and a little bit dirty.

  She could be herself and still play around a little bit without the whole world falling apart.

  So she was feeling pretty good about life in general as she pulled on her bridesmaid dress. It was sleek and stylish in steel gray satin, and she thought she looked very nice in it, even though it wasn’t a color she would normally have chosen with her auburn hair.

  The others were giggling and chatting in the dressing room—about shopping, dates, and shoes—and Elizabeth felt like she had a juicy secret, something none of the others knew.

  They’d never believe her if she told them what she’d done a week ago. She liked being the kind of person who might do it—and who didn’t fall apart afterward.

  “Oh Elizabeth,” Rachel, one of the other bridesmaids and also a college friend, said, contorting her body in an attempt to zip up her dress. “I’ve found the perfect guy for you.”

  Elizabeth straightened up. “Oh, wonderful.”

  “Don’t be all sarcastic about it. I’m serious. He’s fantastic. You’ll really like him.”

  Elizabeth sighed. “Who is he?”

  “Brandon Fellows.”

  Pulling her brows together, she searched her memory for that last name. “Related to Janice Fellows? From the country club?”

  “Yeah. It’s her nephew. He just moved to town from LA. He’s a corporate attorney and evidently he loves little kids.”

  “So why aren’t you interested?” Rachel was single too and always on the man hunt. If this guy were really worth getting, she would have tried to snag him for herself.

  “He’s not my type.”

/>   “Why not?”

  “He’s too white-bread for me. You know I like my men with a little bit of an edge. But Brandon doesn’t have any sort of a wild side at all, so that would be perfect for you.”

  Elizabeth knew that Rachel wasn’t trying to be catty, but she felt a twisting in her gut at the words.

  The sad thing was that just a month ago she would have been pleased and interested and wanting to meet this guy. Now, however, she hated the idea that people saw her as so boring and vanilla.

  She hated that they assumed she would only be interested in a man who’d never strayed outside the lines.

  She thought about Matt on the stage, all of his physicality and sex appeal on display for anyone to see, using it like a tool.

  She wondered what had led him to make the choices he had. Maybe his father had something to do with it.

  “So are you interested?” Rachel asked, checking her hair in the large mirror with a gilded frame.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You might as well give it a try. What could it hurt?”

  It could be a wasted evening, but there wasn’t any real reason not to do it.

  Elizabeth might have had a hot fling with a male stripper, but she still wanted a good guy to build a life with. She might have changed a little bit, but she hadn’t changed completely.

  “Okay. Why not? You can give him my number if you want.”

  Rachel looked pleased with herself, and Elizabeth released another sigh as she smoothed down the skirt of her dress.

  She really did look good. She wondered what Matt would say if he could see her now.

  She’d likely have time to go to the club after the wedding reception this evening.

  She should probably change out of this dress first, though. It would definitely be out of place at Bare Assets.

  —

  A few minutes later she was sent by the mother of the bride to find the bride, since it was time to start getting her into the wedding dress.

  Melissa had slipped out of the dressing room about a half hour ago, saying she needed to make a call, but she hadn’t yet come back, and her mother was starting to get worried.

  Elizabeth had no idea where to look for her, but she wandered around, running into a couple of groomsmen, who told her Melissa wasn’t with the groom, and then spotting the wedding director, who said Melissa had wanted a few minutes alone before the wedding, so she’d sent her to one of the rooms upstairs.

  So Elizabeth, doing her bridesmaid’s duty, even in her three-inch heels, traipsed up the stairs and walked down the hall, pushing open doors to empty rooms that were only used for much bigger events.

  She froze when she pushed open a door and found Melissa.

  She was lying halfway on the bed with a groomsman on top of her.

  Not her husband-to-be.

  Elizabeth stared at the entwined couple, too stunned to do anything, even to back away from what she obviously wasn’t supposed to see.

  She’d thought Melissa and the man she was going to marry were happy. She’d thought they were a great couple and an example of the kind of marriage she wanted for herself—well matched in every way.

  And yet here was Melissa, on her wedding day, betraying the vows she hadn’t yet taken.

  Before Elizabeth could react, Melissa glanced in the direction of the door and saw her friend standing there.

  Finally able to move, Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—” She took four hurried steps backward and closed the door behind her, standing in the hallway panting.

  In less than a minute Melissa came out of the room, pulling her clothes back into place. “What are you doing up here?” she demanded.

  Elizabeth blinked. “Your mom sent me to find you. It’s time to get dressed. I mean, assuming you still want to…” She trailed off, feeling rattled and absolutely stupid.

  “Of course I’m still getting married. You’re not going to say anything, are you?”

  “No, I won’t say anything.” She didn’t really know the guy Melissa was marrying, so she owed more loyalty to Melissa than to him. “But if you’re…I mean, why do you want to go through with it, if you’d rather—”

  “Clayton is the kind of husband I want. But he sucks in the sack, and you can hardly blame me for having a little fun with someone else.”

  “Oh, but…”

  “It’s just a casual thing with him.” Melissa nodded toward the closed door to indicate the man she’d been with on the bed. “Don’t make a big deal about it. Everyone does it.”

  “Everyone doesn’t…” Elizabeth trailed off again. She wasn’t naive. She knew people slept around. But she assumed it was possible to have a good marriage with a man you really wanted to be with, the kind of marriage she’d always had in her daydreams.

  Melissa looked annoyed and flustered. “You’ve always had these silly ideas that you could land in the perfect marriage, but it doesn’t exist. I’m not saying you shouldn’t marry a man who can give you the life you want. That’s what I’m going to do. But he’s not going to be able to fulfill all your needs. If you’re not willing to look beyond him, then be prepared to live your life unsatisfied.”

  Elizabeth didn’t say anything. She felt kind of sick and was still frozen in place.

  “You’re not going to say anything, are you?” Melissa asked again.

  “No. I won’t. I just…” She rubbed her face with her hands, forgetting the makeup she’d put on earlier. “I just don’t like it.”

  “You don’t have to like it. It’s just the way it is.”

  Maybe it was.

  Maybe Elizabeth was stupid to have ever hoped it would be different.

  After all, the only sex in her life that had truly been satisfying had been with a male stripper in the back of her car.

  —

  At just after nine that evening, Elizabeth arrived at Bare Assets. She’d been so upset she’d forgotten to change out of her bridesmaid dress before she headed over.

  She’d stayed for the minimum amount of time required at the wedding reception, but then she’d grabbed her stuff and gotten out of there.

  She didn’t want to see Melissa and her new husband—or the groomsman the bride was fucking and his sweet girlfriend—any longer than she had to.

  The more she thought about it, the more upset she became.

  Surely it was possible to have everything—the life you wanted and the man you wanted. Maybe it wasn’t easy, but she just wouldn’t believe it was impossible.

  Surely Matt hadn’t been right when he’d said her pictures of the future life she’d always dreamed of were just as fake as all the humping and grinding in the strip acts.

  She stared around at the crowded room, as familiar to her as her favorite coffee shop now. Robbie the bartender waved to her and a couple of the waiters winked, one of them pointing toward a two-seat table in the far corner, where she preferred to sit.

  They all seemed to be pretty nice guys. It didn’t really matter that they worked at a strip club.

  They were just as nice as the groomsman who’d been fucking his buddy’s fiancée a few hours before the wedding.

  In fact, they were probably nicer, more decent, less hypocritical than that.

  She wasn’t going to be a naive fool anymore, hoping for things that didn’t exist.

  She was going to be like Matt—enjoy what was offered when it was offered, instead of trying to make everything deep and meaningful.

  So what if the world was shallow and empty?

  That didn’t mean it couldn’t be fun.

  She ordered a scotch on the rocks and took a seat at the table, smiling at a couple of college-aged girls who had been here last week. They evidently recognized her and waved.

  Watching the fireman act, she told herself to not be uptight or frigid. She could enjoy the over-the-top physicality as much as any other woman.

  The purely physical could be good too.

  She downed
her scotch in four swallows, feeling an almost immediate buzz when it hit her stomach. She cheered when the guys onstage ripped their tear-away pants off, and then she cheered again when they came down from the stage into the audience.

  Feeling a strange impulse possess her, she dug into her purse and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. She waved it around until Big Red—a gorgeous redheaded stripper—came over to her. All the performers seemed to know she wasn’t interested in being humped, so he looked a little surprised, but he did a few full-body rolls in front of her until she stuck the bill in his briefs.

  It was strangely freeing—to do something like that, to not even care how she looked or what people would think.

  To not care at all.

  She got another scotch and, during the break between acts, when the college girls from last week invited her over to their table, she accepted, even though they were right up front by the stage.

  The next routine was a big one with six of the guys dressed as cowboys.

  Elizabeth screamed with all the other girls when they came out on stage.

  She hadn’t seen Matt at all tonight, but she told herself it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Everything she’d worried and stressed and dreamed about all her life just wasn’t worth all the trouble.

  She was going to enjoy this.

  And she didn’t care about any consequences.

  —

  Matt felt a little nauseated as he walked back into Bare Assets.

  He’d had a confrontation with his mother when he’d gone over with this week’s groceries, and it hadn’t gone well. Not at all. Just the sight of her apartment was enough to make him sick—reminding him strongly of the places where they’d lived when he was a kid—but the argument with his mother had been worse.

  He tried to clear his mind as he entered. He’d learned a long time ago not to let his mother contaminate his life.

  The place was packed, as it always was at this time on a Saturday evening.

  He wondered if Elizabeth was here yet.

  When he got farther in, he looked toward her usual corner but didn’t see her. He felt a clench of disappointment.

  She’d told him on Thursday that she didn’t want to fuck him again, and he’d pretended to be cool about it, as if he could take it or leave it.