by Brandi Evans
Exposed Desires
Brandi Evans
What says I love you like a lap dance?
Sophia Raines has the looks, the charm and the hottest strip club in Dallas. So why’s she so glum? The man she loves is deploying to Afghanistan, and she hasn’t had the courage to tell him she loves him. Tonight, however, that will change. Sophia has devised the perfect plan to show Bret just how she feels.
Bret Dowers has loved Soph for years, but between two tours of duty—three if he counts his disastrous marriage—things have never worked out. When Soph rocks his world with some serious PDA, however, their friendship takes a dramatic turn into Sexville. But with the separation of deployment looming, can their newfound love survive or will this weekend be all they ever have?
Also By Brandi
The Erogenous Zone
A Soldier’s Seduction (interactive erotic romance)
Seduced by the Marine Dom (coming August 2016)
Rock-Hard Heroes
In the Middle of Nowhere
Operation a Better Tomorrow (coming soon)
Chasing Max
Lust, Lace & Lingerie (re-releasing soon)
Camo & Lace
Exposed Desires
Game Night (re-releasing soon)
Standalone Stories
His Forbidden Submissive
Tempted (re-releasing soon)
Seducing Jason (free read)
Learn more at www.BrandiEvansAuthor.com.
Exposed Desires
Camo & Lace
Brandi Evans
Exposed Desires
by Brandi Evans
Copyright © 2016 by Brandi Evans
Formatted by The Romance Geek
Edited by Grace Bradley
Cover by The Romance Geek
This eBook is not transferable. It cannot be resold, shared or given away because that will be considered an infringement of the copyright of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons (living or dead), actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author, except for brief quotations for review purposes.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It 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 return to www.BrandiEvansAuthor.com and learn more about purchasing your own copy.
Praise for Brandi
“…Brandi Evans takes the age-old battle between the pleasure of the flesh and the soul to erotic heights.” ~The Pen & Muse Reviews
“Ms. Evans created a very sexy story that will keep your heart pounding.” ~Literary Nymphs Reviews
“Ms. Evans has created characters so real it feels as if you could meet them walking down the street.” ~Whipped Cream Reviews
“[Brandi Evans] writes some HOTNESS…” ~Amy, Romancing the Book
“[His Forbidden Submissive] literally gave me goose bumps while I was reading it.” ~Heather, Sizzling Hot Book Reviews
“Wow [Lust, Lace & Lingerie] is HOT…[it] has very detailed sex scenes and an interesting storyline that kept me reading, I couldn’t put the book down!” ~Wanda, Romance Writers Reviews
Dedication
To anyone who’s ever fallen in love with their best friend.
Table Of Contents
Front Matter
Also By Brandi
Title Page
Copyright
Praise for Brandi
Dedication
Table Of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Epilogue
Coming Soon
About The Author
Seduced by the Marine Dom
Chapter One
It was now or never.
Sophia stared across the smoke-filled club as the man she loved took a long pull of his Heineken. Regret expanded in her chest like a lead balloon, so heavy she could hardly breathe. She’d had over a year to tell him the truth. A fricking year! But somewhere along the way, time had become her enemy.
In two days Bret, her best friend for almost ten years, would ship out for another tour in the Middle East, and he might never return.
Never return…
The thought made her physically ill. Trying to fathom the next eighteen months without him was like trying to figure out how to reconfigure her lungs to process carbon dioxide instead of oxygen. So picturing the rest of her life without him…?
Nope.
Not gonna happen.
He was her rock. The only man aside from her father she trusted explicitly—even if she’d never told him how much she cared. But no more. Tonight she’d finally show Bret Dowers the truth she’d been hiding for so long.
She wiped her hands on the rag she kept draped over her shoulder when helping out at the bar, gathered every ounce of courage she possessed and—
“Can I get a beer?”
Well shit.
Sophia turned her gaze from Bret to a patron at the bar. Despite her annoyance, she gave the sandy-haired young man a flirtatious smile and flipped her dark hair over her shoulder. “What can I get ya, sweetheart?”
She really didn’t like using the Brazilian Bombshell appeal her bitch of a mother had cursed her with, especially now, but her customers expected her to flirt. Expected all Sophia’s girls to flirt. Why else would they be at a strip club with rolls of bills straining their jeans?
“Hmm,” he said to her breasts, “what all do you have on tap?”
Ugh, she didn’t have time for this. She had a plan to put into motion. Nevertheless, she kept her smile glued on and listed off the names of the fifteen beers on tap. Boy-Man might be twenty-two. Might. If she didn’t have confidence in her bouncers, she’d ID the guy herself.
Sophia expected—and received—integrity from her employees. Exposed Desires was many things. Sexy, sensual…naughty, but it wasn’t dirty. When she’d taken over almost six years ago, she’d worked hard to change the club’s image, and as a result, her club had become one of Dallas’ most-talked-about erotic hot spots.
“Bud Light,” Boy-Man finally said.
What an original soul. “Coming right up, hon.” She grabbed a frosted mug from the freezer, filled his order and then turned to Mindy, the busty redhead at the end of the bar.
“All yours, Min.”
Mindy waved without turning her thousand-watt grin from Baldy McBeergut and the serious tip she was building.
Sophia smiled at a group of businessmen as she passed their table. The guys were regulars, came in twice a week. Sometimes three when business was really good. The club had lots of regulars these days, most of whom she knew by name. And by the size of their, um, tips.
When she reached the DJ’s station—an elevated platform along the club’s back wall—she chanced another glance at Bret. This time, his gaze met hers and locked on.
Despite the distance and the distractions between them, desire simmered to life and kicked her heart into high gear. Bret had the physique of a serious athlete. Not bulky but with the hard lines and sculpted ridges of a man who worked and worked out hard. Tack on his sandy blond hair and eyes as blue as the Texas sky, and he was a shoo-in for the WWDAs—Walking Wet Dream Awards.
Sophia looked away before her cheeks heated to the point Bret would be able to see the redness from across the club.
She plucked a wireless mic from the cabinet beside the turntable then tapped the DJ on the shoulder. “After this number, Tee.” She’d told him of her plan earlier and given him the song she wanted to play. “And don’t forget to dim the house lights when you turn on the spotlight onstage.” She wanted the mood to be as intimate as possible.
“Got it, boss,” Tee said then went back to jiving along with the pounding bass pumping through the speakers.
From the corner of her eyes, she noticed Bret still watching her, and like Odysseus to the call of the sirens, she couldn’t help but turn her attention back to him.
He waved her over. She took one step toward him. Then stopped. Bret asking questions was the last thing she wanted. Lying to her best friend wasn’t her strong suit. Then again, neither was telling him the complete truth.
She flashed him a smile and pointed behind her, mouthing the words, I’m needed backstage.
Bret over-exaggerated a sigh, complete with sagging shoulders and pouty lips. The sweet dork. Shaking her head, she headed backstage.
A bouncer with shoulders about as broad as a semi-truck swept back the curtain hiding the employees-only area of the club. “Ms. Raines,” he said with a slight nod.
Sophia returned the head bob.
A frenzy of exposed skin, friendly chatter and flying underwear greeted her. Vanities ran the length of the parallel walls and costumes hung along the far wall. Most importantly, laughter floated through the air.
Lots and lots of laughter.
A grin tugged at Sophia’s lips. Her girls were happy. Safe. Just the way they should feel on the job. Too bad her boss hadn’t cared for her when she’d been a dancer.
Sophia pushed the dark thoughts to the back of her mind. Those incidents were in the past. She’d moved on. Taken control of her life and her body.
If that was true, why haven’t you danced since that night?
She ignored the voice. No time for distractions now. The current song was fading, slowly being replaced by the applause of the crowd. Oh, crap. That was her cue.
It was time.
“You can do this,” she whispered. “You can do this.” Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the chair she’d set by the stage entrance earlier and headed into the spotlight. “Give it up for the lovely and limber Ginger!” Sophia called, motioning toward the other woman on stage.
Ginger waved and blew seductive kisses to the crowd as she promenaded around the edge of the stage for tips. By the time she retreated backstage, her purple G-string had a wealthy trim of George Washington green.
Sophia placed the chair under the spotlight and waited for the crowd to settle. Her gaze found Bret’s and she smiled. “If you’ll allow me a moment, ladies and gentlemen,” she said, “I’d like to invite my dear friend Bret Dowers to the stage.”
Bret’s eyes went wide, and he glanced at the man beside him as if he knew what was going on. Liam, Bret’s longtime friend and Army buddy, merely shrugged, so Bret returned his focus back to the stage.
A smile curved her lips. That’s right, Bret. You’re mine tonight. All mine…
When he didn’t budge, she waved him her way. “Come on, Bret! I don’t bite.”
“Unless you want her to,” someone called from backstage, and a swell of laughter swept through the space.
Finally, Bret surrendered, handed his beer to Liam and sauntered on stage. “Soph? Um, what’s goin’ on?”
Holding her hand toward him, she winked, and when he twined his fingers through hers, she tugged him to her side. “Bret here has been my best friend since college, and in two days, his National Guard unit is shipping out for another tour in the Middle East.”
The audience clapped and cheered, acknowledging and thanking him for his service.
“But before he leaves,” she said when the applause faded, “I have a special surprise for him.” She stepped so close her breasts smashed against Bret’s solid chest. “For the first time since I took over Exposed Desires, I’m gonna dance again, a combination floor show and lap dance, and you, Bret Dowers, are gonna have an onstage seat. Up close and über personal.”
~ * ~
Bret’s heart pounded as he waited for Soph to return to the stage. He felt as if a band of armed insurgents had surrounded him, not a crowd of harmless bar patrons, but in truth, his out-of-control heart rate had little to do with the crowd and more to do with the anticipation of finally seeing Soph dance.
From the moment she’d told him she’d become an exotic dancer, his mind had surged into erotic overdrive, but unfortunately, her short stint as a stripper had started and ended while he’d been convoying through the hot-ass Iraq desert on his first deployment. She’d needed a way to pay for her last year of college after her CEO father’s business had been hit hard by a series of lawsuits. Her employment choice had almost shocked her old man right into a damn heart attack. Hell, it’d shocked Bret too but for entirely different reasons.
Complete strangers getting to see his Soph naked but not him—talk about fucking torture.
The house lights dimmed, and a crescendo of applause and catcalls echoed in the darkness beyond the stage. The sultry bah-bump-shick of Peggy Lee’s hit Fever slinked through the sound system, a laid-back rhythm that teased the senses. He knew the song well. It was one of Soph’s favorites.
Fingertips played over his shoulder, around the curve of his neck, and teased his jaw. He turned his head in the direction of the touch, and Soph stepped into view. His cock twitched, filling, lengthening. The slinky fabric of her super-short red dress sparkled beneath the bright light.
Yeah, like he was looking at her outfit.
She rolled her hips to the rhythm of the music and waved her ass at him. God, her legs had never seemed so long. The distance between the hem of her outfit and the ultra-high heels stretched on for miles.
She turned her head and smiled at him over her shoulder and, with a wink, sent the dress careening to the stage floor. Bret swallowed. Hard. Soph dancing for him, gyrating her beautiful body while he greedily looked his fill? Ten times better than he’d imagined.
Her dark skin practically gleamed, a stunning Brazilian beauty. His Brazilian beauty. She slid her hands over her body, slow swipes that sent his dick into a frenzy. How many times had he dreamed about her touching him like that?
Although her back was still toward him—no, because her back was still toward him—his imagination went wild. Was she running her hands over her tits as she danced for him? Over her pussy? Was she making herself wet, getting as turned on as he was? Did she want to fuck him like he wanted to fuck her?
Easy, hero.
Goddamn it, if he didn’t tame his wild thoughts, he’d cream his pants right here and now.
Bending slowly at the waist, legs straight, Soph touched the floor with her palm. And stayed there. The sight was…was…
Ah, fuck.
He fisted his hands. No words did that justice. The thread of her G-string stretched tightly between her cheeks, leaving little for his imagination to do. At least on the visual side.
A shiver overtook him. What would it feel like to cram his cock tight and deep into that puckered hole? Was Soph even into that kind of thing? Not that he’d have a chance to find out. He was just her—gag—best friend. If she only knew the kind of non-friendly fantasy positions he’d had her in while jacking off in the shower.
He shifted in his chair. The denim imprisoning his aching cock rubbed against him. Shit, he needed to calm down. No, what he needed was Soph.
“Come on, turn around,” he muttered, although seeing Soph’s naked tits would likely be his undoing. He doubted he’d be able to resist the urge to bury his face between them and go nuts.
Soph pushed back to her feet—hell and heaven in the same movement—and turned to face him. The cups of her bikini-type top were nothing but sheer black fishnet
.
Hello, nipples.
He bit his bottom lip. God, those babies were beautiful. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he should stop staring at her like some teenager sneaking his first glimpse of a naked woman from the pages of his father’s Penthouse magazine. Especially considering the tits he was ogling belonged to his best friend. But damn! Almost naked breasts. He couldn’t not stare. He wasn’t a fucking saint.
Need pulsed through his cock so hot his blood felt close to boiling. Was this what Peggy meant when she sang about fever?
Soph sank to the stage and crawled toward him. Temptation painted her face in a way that made her look like she wanted him too, as impossible as that was. Fucking friend zone.
She planted her right hand and then her left on his knees and practically crawled up his body. Her top caught the loose material of his t-shirt and pulled the cotton along for the ride. She worked her palms up his torso, stopping only when she reached his shoulders, and sat on his lap.
Her face hovered inches from his, her fingers sliding into his hair. For a fleeting moment, he thought she’d kiss him, but she stopped short. She tucked her feet behind her, hooked them on either side of his knees, and began grinding her panty-covered pussy against his cock.
Oh, sweet heaven.
His hands clenched, itching to touch her as she dry humped him, but he couldn’t. The rules at Exposed Desires about touching dancers were strict. They got to touch, but patrons didn’t. Nope, nada, no exceptions, but fuck…this was Soph! And with the spotlight creating a veil of darkness around them, he could almost pretend they were alone.
Almost.
Soph planted her hands on his shoulders and pushed straight up until her arms locked. Her barely covered nipples kissed his face, so fucking close all he had to do was open his mouth—but she reversed direction and slid back down. Down. Down. All the way down, her breath scorching his skin through his clothes. And when she reached his throbbing cock, his eyes rolled back in his head.
