Strip Me Bare (15 page)

“He’s a complicated man, you know that.”

“I do, but that still doesn’t explain why I
had to hide in the closet.”

I scramble for the right words.

“Who was I supposed to tell him you are?” I
shout, surprising us both. “Do you want me to lie or tell him the
truth? Because I don’t know which is worse, Dad this is Ryan my
friend, or Dad, this is Ryan my stripper boyfriend who, if you
don’t remember, you convicted five years ago on a drug charge.”

Those were definitely not the right words.
“Trust me when I tell you Ryan, that him not knowing about you at
all is the best circumstance for all of us.”

Ryan doesn’t respond, he just huffs, and it’s
this half-hurt half-pissed off sound that rips my heart right in
two.

“I’m sorry,” I rush, but Ryan just stalks
around the apartment looking for his bag. Once he finds it, he
grabs it and then storms out the front door, slamming it behind
him.

I jump a little from the sound.

Shit.

I’m alone, left staring at the door with my
arms wrapped around myself, written off by the two men I love the
most.

I feel a nudge, and then, “Alana?”

I lift my head slowly off my arm; I must have
fallen asleep studying, because I’m propped up on the couch with
Ryan sitting next to me. When I rub the sleep out of my eyes
everything comes rushing back to me. Before Ryan can say anything
else I launch myself on top of him and spew, “Ryan, I’m so sorry,
that was a shitty thing to say. It wasn’t directed at you. It was a
dig at my father. I just-” I stammer, “I just got scared. I got
scared of losing everything.”

Ryan stares up at me soundlessly, an array of
emotions churning in his eyes. It makes me want to erase every
painful moment of his life, this one especially. I didn’t mean to
make him feel small or slap the stripper stigma right in his
face.

With his head in my hands I kiss him
emotively and contritely. “I’m sorry,” I whisper between gasps of
breath. Ryan is stone cold; which only causes my regret to magnify.
I try to spark some kind of reaction. I don’t care if he yells at
me, screams or cries, I just need some kind of response. Suddenly,
he shoves his hands into my hair. His tongue invading my mouth,
drawing me into a deep controlling kiss, while pulling at my
strands so hard there’s a sharp sting on my scalp. His forcefulness
takes me by surprise.
Holy Fuck.
This isn’t the Ryan I know.
This isn’t the confident sex god who isn’t afraid of anything. This
isn’t the man who touches me adoringly and affectionately, who
reveres me like a priceless piece of artwork. This Ryan is seeking
affirmation; who wants to know if I’ll ever see him as anything
more than just a stripper. As anyone more than a man my father put
away.

This is Ryan, stripped bare.

In one swift, unexpected move, he rips my
leggings in two. I gasp as he deftly undoes his fly and pushes
himself inside me. Holding me tight he begins to move, urgently,
systematically. One deep thrust after the other.

With one arm snaked around his neck, I brace
myself against the driving force. It’s unfamiliar and stern and
makes my head spin.

And I utterly love it because it’s with
Ryan.

“Alana, say my name,” his voice is commanding
and slightly uneasy. “I need to hear you say it.”

I can barely think - let alone speak - as he
tortures me with slow steady need, but I do as he asks.

“Ryan,” I gasp in blissful distress and he
slams harder. “
Ryan!
” I cry out as he hits my spot; my whole
body tensing and shuddering as my orgasm shreds me apart. Ryan
follows right after me; stilling beneath me with a ragged,
tormented groan. Lightheaded and breathless, I drop my head into
the crook of his neck; the two of us clinging desperately to each
other.

After a few moments of heavy breathing, I
rest my forehead against his. Ryan doesn’t say a word; he just
stares at me quietly with raw blue eyes.

“I know who you are,” I tell him lovingly. “I
know who you are.”

“Alana,” Ryan’s voice calls to me, “wake up,
let’s go to bed.” We’re still on the couch; I’m straddled over him
with my arms wrapped tightly around his neck. I start to move but
he grabs me by both thighs. “Hey,” he whispers, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I rub my eyes, “I was the one who
stuck you in a closet.”

“For being rough with you. I never should
have done that.”

I put my hand on his face, “It’s okay. I get
it.” I kiss him softly in the dark.

“It’s not okay, you don’t deserve to be
treated like that, no matter what you say or do to me.”

“Ryan, it's fine. I sort of liked it,” I
confess guiltily. “Maybe I should piss you off more often.”

“No,” he says strictly, and then he wraps his
arms around my waist. “I hate fighting with you.”

“That’s too bad, because the make-up sex is
amazing,” I joke, my voice quiet.

“You don’t have to worry about that, I
haven’t even begun to blow your mind yet,” he bites me just below
my collarbone.

“Ouch,” I giggle. “You mean there’s more
where that came from?”

“So much more,” he says and his tone provokes
all of my senses.

Ryan shifts forward on the couch and forces
my legs around his waist, then he stands up with me in his arms. As
he walks towards my bedroom I nibble on his neck.

He constricts his arms tighter around me. “I
love you,” he whispers in my ear.

“I love you too.”

“I was miserable tonight,” he tells me, his
voice low.

“So was I. I tried to stay up and wait for
you, but that didn’t work out so well.”

“I came back later than usual. I went out
with a few of the guys after my shift. To blow off some steam.”

“I can tell, you smell like alcohol,” I tell
him as he crawls onto the bed with me still latched to him.

“I got a little wasted and wasn’t sure if I
should come back here or not. I didn’t want to fight. But I
couldn’t stand sleeping anywhere else than next to you.”

“I’m glad you came back,” I say as we get
comfortable; Ryan lying on his back with me resting on his
chest.

I start to drift off when Ryan’s voice calls
me back, “Alana? What did you mean when you said you were scared of
losing everything?”

My eyes pop open and I stare out into the
darkness.

“Ryan,” I sigh. “There’s one thing I’ve
wanted for as long as I can remember. And then you came along, and
now all I want is two things, to be a lawyer and you. And my father
is the only person who can take it all away.”

“He can’t take me away, Alana.”

“He’d try.”

“I wouldn’t let him.”

“That’s the thing.” I pick my head up to look
at him, “I’d fight for you, and when my father rejects me because
you’re not the likeness he’s picked out for me in his head, he’ll
cut me off, essentially murdering my dream.”

“So, the male stripper he convicted five
years ago isn’t his first choice for his daughter?”

“Ryan,” I groan. “Are you going to hold that
against me forever?”

“No, I just see his point. It’s not who I’d
want my daughter with.”

“If he’s anything like you, you could see
past his indiscretions.”

“Why don’t you just take out student loans
and pay for law school yourself?”

“Do you have any idea how expensive Columbia
is? I’d be paying off debt for the rest of my life. We’re sort of
in the same boat.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, why do you strip? The money, right?
It’s fast, it’s easy, it’s good?”

“Yes.”

“It’s going to get you where you want to go
faster than working some crappy minimum wage job?”

“Hell yeah.”

“It’s all about a means to an end. I don’t
want to graduate and work my ass off so all my money can go to
student loans. I don’t know where I’ll end up after law school. I
want to work in a big law firm that’s fast paced and high profile
like my uncle’s. But there’s no guarantee that’s what kind of job
I’ll get. So I have to be smart about my future.”

“You’ve thought about this, huh?”

“It’s all I had to think about up until
recently.”

Ryan runs his thumb across my cheek, “I want
all of your dreams to come true.”

“Then don’t be mad that I have to keep you a
secret. Believe me when I tell you it breaks me every time I have
to lie to my father. And it killed me tonight that I couldn’t open
that door and tell him who you are. Tell him how much I love you,
how happy you make me. I wish things were different. I wish he were
different. But he is who he is, and…“ I turn my head and look away,
shit I’m getting emotional.

“And?” Ryan can’t see my face in the dim
light of the room, but I know he can hear the affliction in my
voice.

“And, I’m scared-”

“Of losing everything.” He snaps the puzzle
pieces together.

“Yes.” I nuzzle my face against his. “My
everything is him, you, and me.”

“And law school.”

“And law school,” I agree. “Do you think you
want me enough to suffer through it until I can gain some
independence?” I drop my head onto Ryan’s chest.

“Of course,” he answers without any
hesitation. “I want you enough for the both of us. And I can’t
imagine one second without you.” He kisses my head and I squeeze
him tightly.

“Good, because I promise once this is all
over, I’ll make it up to you for the rest of your life.”

Ryan snickers, “smooth move stealing my line
counselor.”

“What can I say? I’m a girl who does what she
has to, to get what she wants.”

“And what’s that exactly?” Ryan asks as he
runs one finger delicately through my hair.

“You, and happily ever after.”

“Is there such a thing?”

I shrug, “I guess we’re going to find
out.”

My last exam for
fall semester was Thursday, December 16th. So as part-celebration
and part-big gesture for Ryan, I set up dinner with him and my
family at the Palm, a steakhouse on 2nd Avenue. Well, with my
extended family that is. My father may never accept him, but I have
no doubt my uncle John will. I want Ryan to know he’s important and
my uncle has been salivating to meet him, so I’m satisfying two
cravings at once.

We stand on the sidewalk, right outside the
Palm’s entrance, sharing a cigarette. It’s a cold December night,
the air is crisp and it smells like Christmas. Ryan is jittery, and
has been since we left my apartment. He shakes his hands out and
cracks his neck like he’s about to step into a boxing ring.

“What’s wrong with you?” I ask, sucking in a
drag. “Not used to wearing so many clothes?”

He glares at me and I laugh.

“That’s not funny.”

“That’s totally funny,” I argue.