Page 26 of Tripp

“You know you’re not.”

“You’re quite the contradiction, you know that?” Intrigued by his odd statement, I took the bait.

“I don’t understand. What does that mean exactly?”

“Well, for starters, you’re a stripper. Or rather, youwerea stripper.” I couldn’t help the slight irritation that flowed through me at the mention of my job loss. “You took your clothes off and danced for countless strangers, put yourself in a sexual environment all the time, yet you blushed when you saw me naked.”

“How do you know I blushed? You were turned around.”

“Because your cheeks are still red.” He reached out and ghosted his fingers down the side of my face. I hadn’t expected him to touch me, and when he did I couldn’t stop my body from reacting. Again. My breath came out in short spurts as if my lungs had stolen my air, yet I welcomed the strange feeling. Before I did something stupid like lean in to him, I retreated.

“I have to go,” I whispered, watching him closely for any sudden change in expression. Would he be angry that I wasn’t fawning all over him? Especially when it was obvious he was attracted to me? Would he find me challenging and pursue me, try to convince me to stay to see if he could get what he wanted from me—even though I had no idea what that was? Well . . . I could take a guess, but would he be so brazen? Of course he would. I didn’t see him as the type of guy to beat around the bush when it came to things he wanted.

But did he want me?

Oh my God! My brain was firing off in all different directions, most of my thoughts confusing the hell out of me.

“What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

“Just thinking that I overstayed my welcome,” I lied, fiddling with the bottom of his shirt which still covered me. His eyes drifted to where my fingers gripped the material.

“I think that’s my new favorite shirt,” he confessed, veering the conversation—what little of it there was—in yet another direction. Holy shit, we were all over the place.

“Well, it’s yours, so that would make sense.” I had no idea what else to say, other than to make idle, meaningless chitchat. After several heartbeats, I chose to get back to the main point.What was that again? Oh yeah. . . .”I have to go.”

“Where?”

“Back to the motel.”

“I told you that you’re not going back there,” he snapped, reining in his sudden temper once he realized his outburst. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me, as if trying to will me into submission. I was sure most people followed Tripp’s orders, but I wasn’t gonna be one of them. Not when what he was saying was completely asinine.

“Where else am I gonna go?” Wanting to mirror his resoluteness, I put my hands on my hips and challenged him back. I was sure I was quite the sight, standing there in nothing but his T-shirt, hair tousled and looking a mess.

“You can stay here.”

“With you?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

Was he offended?

“Um . . . let’s see. I don’t know you, for starters. Besides, you fired me, remember? What makes you think I’m still not pissed off at you?” My arms stayed glued to my waist.

It was then he decided to make a move, reaching me in only a few long strides. He stood so close I had to tilt my head back to see his face. “Are you?” His warm breath fanned my face and I couldn’t help but wonder what his kiss would taste like.

“Am I what?” I asked dreamily, so lost to the image of his lips pressed against mine that I’d lost all rationale.

“Pissed at me?” He reached out and tucked an errant strand of hair behind my ear, the pads of his fingers trailing over the sensitive area just below my earlobe.

“Huh?” My eyes were half closed at that point, and my mouth had suddenly become quite dry.

Chuckling, he leaned down until his mouth was but a whisper away from mine. “Are you still pissed at me? For letting you go from the club? Or are you imagining yourself kissing me? Is that where that beautiful head of yours is at?”

I couldn’t do anything other than stare at his mouth, the questions he’d just asked not even registering before I rose up on my tippy toes and pressed my lips to his, completely oblivious to how inappropriate my actions were.

“Aw . . . fuck it,” he muttered before giving in and kissing me back.

Tripp

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