Taking It Off

by Claire Kent

  “You still taking off your clothes for the girls?”

  The cashier, who had started ringing up Nicole’s diet cola and frozen pizza, raised her eyebrows sky high at that comment.

  “Not much anymore. Every once in a while.” He’d been dating Nicole when he started stripping, so she knew all about it.

  “You still at Bare Assets?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll have to stop by one evening to visit.” She gave him a particular look with an obvious implication.

  She was just his age—early thirties—and she was still very pretty, with a slim figure and a great rack. She was the kind of woman who was all hair and smile, and it worked for her.

  Part of him wondered if he should ask her out. She was in his league—they’d had the same upbringing and same kinds of experiences, and her family and friends wouldn’t give a shit if she hooked up with a stripper. They’d probably think it was pretty cool.

  She made a lot more sense for him than Elizabeth. Plus, there was a possibility it could last more than a month, since she wasn’t guaranteed to get bored and move on the way Elizabeth eventually would.

  “Sure,” he said casually, trying to make himself give her an encouraging smile. He couldn’t make his mouth move in that direction, though.

  He didn’t want Nicole. Nothing about her excited him in any way.

  Not the way Elizabeth did.

  “Bring your friends,” he added. “It’s more fun that way.”

  She looked slightly disappointed, understanding the implication of his words, but she smiled and waved as she took her bag and walked out.

  Matt sighed.

  Robbie was right. He’d been utterly stupid. He’d fallen for a woman he had absolutely no chance of getting.

  He really needed to get over it.

  He loaded the groceries into his SUV and drove them over to his mother’s apartment. He knocked, but when there was no answer he let himself in.

  The place was as much a mess as it always was. His mother wasn’t passed out on the couch, however, so that was a plus. She wasn’t even there.

  He put the groceries in the cupboard and refrigerator and dumped out the uneaten produce that had gone bad.

  He sighed as he looked around the small living area. It was a mess, as always, with the usual junk-food wrappers and beer bottles and used paper towels tossed around. With a sigh, he dug out one of the garbage bags from the box he’d bought a couple of weeks ago and started to pick up the room. When he’d gotten the trash out, he wiped up something sticky that looked like spilled beer, swept as well as he could, and reordered the furniture.

  He couldn’t find the cocaine.

  He went to check out the bedroom and felt sick when he saw the condition it was in. The sheets were stained with semen and something darker he didn’t want to know about. He knew his mother sometimes took to the street to get money for drugs, and it was entirely possible she sometimes brought the johns home.

  He backed out of the room when his stomach churned, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave such a mess for his mother to come home to, so he went back in and gathered the sheets up, avoiding touching any of the stains.

  He could take them to the Laundromat to wash, but he didn’t have time to do it. So instead he stuffed them in a trash bag and then took the bags to the Dumpster.

  He stopped at a discount store down the block to buy new sheets, then went back to the apartment to make up the bed.

  As he was tucking in the sheets, he found his mother’s stash of coke when a slit cut into the mattress opened slightly.

  Without hesitating, he took the bag of white powder to the bathroom to flush the contents down the toilet.

  Then he finished cleaning up and left the apartment, feeling dirty and depressed as he did.

  He felt the need to shower before he headed back to the club, so he made a quick stop at home.

  He was physically clean when he got back to the club at just before nine.

  It didn’t matter if he was clean or not. Elizabeth wasn’t going to be here tonight.

  And if she was, he should just ignore her.

  There was nothing in their lives that was remotely compatible except their bodies.

  And Matt knew better than most—a body just wasn’t enough.

  —

  Elizabeth was having dinner at a French restaurant with her parents and wondering if she should have gone to the club instead.

  At least the club would have been more exciting.

  She reminded herself that the main reason—maybe the only reason—she found the club exciting was because of Matt, and he’d shown himself to be not worth the effort.

  The more she thought about it, the more she understood why he’d reacted so strongly. He was probably embarrassed about his mother. He probably didn’t want anyone to know he had a junkie in his family. He’d put on this pose of confidence and self-sufficiency, and he didn’t want anything to crack the facade.

  But still…

  He’d lashed out at her when she obviously hadn’t deserved it. And she just didn’t need to put up with a man who would do that.

  Despite her conclusions, she still found herself wondering what he was doing—whether he was hoping for her to show up tonight—as she sipped a good Burgundy and tuned out as her mother prattled on about what the women in her garden club were doing.

  In the silence following the server coming to take their orders, her father asked, “Is everything okay with you tonight?”

  Elizabeth swallowed, surprised by the question and troubled that she hadn’t schooled her expression enough. “Yes. I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

  “You seem quiet or distracted tonight. Everything okay with your job?”

  “Yes. Same as always.”

  “Man troubles?”

  “Preston,” her mother broke in, giving her husband a chiding look. “You know she’s not dating anyone now.”

  “There can still be man troubles, I assume.”

  Elizabeth smiled at her father. “I’m fine. Nothing is wrong. I’m just kind of tired tonight, I guess.”

  “Well, we won’t keep you long,” her father said. “We really wanted to take you out to dinner to talk.”

  Elizabeth caught something in the word choice and in his change of tone. Her chest clenched a little. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

  “No, no. I’m just seriously considering running for governor this time, and I wanted to run it by you before I make a final decision.”

  “Oh.” She looked from her father to her mother. “It’s your decision. Since I’m out of the house now, it doesn’t really affect me, does it?”

  “It might. I’d like your support, of course, if you can attend certain functions. And sometimes the family of the candidate comes under some scrutiny.”

  That was true, Elizabeth realized. For instance, she probably wouldn’t be able to hang out at a male strip club twice a week if her father was running for governor.

  For some reason the thought bothered her, even though she’d decided never to go back. She didn’t like to be limited that way. She didn’t like the idea that the world would assume that there was something fundamentally wrong with Matt—that he was someone she shouldn’t be spending time with, just because of the choices he’d made in life.

  She’d always assumed she would end up with a man who was of the same social class as she was. She’d never in her life imagined anything else. But none of that really mattered when she thought about Matt. She was angry with him now for how he had treated her, but it had nothing to do with how he had been raised or the differences between them.

  If she wanted to be with Matt, then it was no one’s business but theirs.

  “Are you all right, dear?” her mother asked softly. “You don’t have a problem with his decision, do you?”

  “Of course not.”

  She turned to her father. “You should do whatever you think is best. It will just be hard on you, won�
�t it? Physically, I mean.”

  “I’m in excellent health. And what else do I have to do? Hang around and play golf?”

  It would probably be good for him—to relax and play golf after working so hard all his life. But she didn’t have it in her to say so, for fear that he would think she didn’t think he was up to it, or there was some other reason she didn’t want him to run. “All right, then. I’ll support you whatever you do,” she said.

  He smiled at her, and she knew he was pleased, that she’d been the kind of daughter he expected.

  She usually felt proud of herself when he looked at her with that expression, but this evening she felt kind of rattled and restless.

  She didn’t want to be here. She wanted to be at the club to see what was going on with Matt, to see if he was still as mad at her as he’d been before.

  She wanted to be at Bare Assets. Once her father announced he was running for governor, she wouldn’t be able to go there again.

  —

  She said good-bye to her parents and left the restaurant at nine thirty.

  There was still plenty of time to head over to the club.

  She didn’t have to talk to Matt, if he preferred to be an asshole. She could just go as usual to keep her side of the challenge and prove that he hadn’t won.

  This all made perfect sense to her, so she turned the car around from the direction of her house and instead drove over to Bare Assets. Since it was late, the parking lot was packed and she had to park at the very far end and walk quite a distance to the door.

  She glanced down at herself, realizing she was once again dressed inappropriately in her brown pencil skirt and cream cashmere twinset. Her hair was down today, just the top layer pulled back with an ivory clip.

  She shrugged off the self-consciousness, however, thinking it didn’t matter how she looked. She wasn’t here to impress anyone.

  She was here so she wouldn’t have to admit defeat to Matt and his jerkishness.

  Despite her mental pep talk, her heart started beating faster as she stepped into the main room filled with the familiar dancing lights and loud squeals. She didn’t see Matt on the first scan, which helped her to calm down and look for a place to sit.

  Tonight there didn’t appear to be a single empty seat.

  She kept looking, starting to feel like an idiot standing at the back and desperately searching for a seat to watch a strip show.

  She was actually considering turning around and heading home when a voice said just over her shoulder, “I didn’t think you’d show up tonight.”

  With a little gasp, she turned around to see Matt. She had no idea where he’d come from. She’d already decided to be cool and casual with him, as if she couldn’t care less about how he behaved. “Why wouldn’t I?” she asked lightly, arching her eyebrows in a look she used when she was trying to intimidate someone paying her unwanted attention.

  Matt’s eyes narrowed as he studied her face. “I thought you’d be mad at me.”

  “I don’t waste my time getting angry about silly things.” Pleased that she’d sounded aloof and untouched, she spotted two middle-aged women getting up to leave, evidently having had all they could stand of the pelvic thrusts.

  She hurried over to the empty table, leaving Matt standing alone, and took a seat as one of the servers came over to clean it off for her.

  She ordered a scotch, since that was what she drank when she wanted to show Matt she was his equal. She was actually starting to enjoy the taste.

  Matt came over to sit at the table with her before her drink arrived.

  “Is there something you want?” she asked coolly.

  “I wanted to talk to you.”

  “What about?”

  “What do you think?” His eyes were still searching her face, like he was trying to figure out what she was thinking.

  She didn’t like that. She didn’t want him to know what she was thinking. “I have no idea.”

  “Don’t you?” He used that low, husky, entitled voice—the one that gave her shivers.

  But she didn’t want to shiver tonight. She wasn’t going to let him make her feel like that again. “Do you mind?” she asked, perceptibly impatient. “I’d like to watch the show.”

  “Would you?”

  “Yes.” She waved her hand, like she was brushing him away, and he sighed loudly and shook his head.

  “I thought you didn’t enjoy the show. Has that changed in the last three weeks?”

  “No. It hasn’t. But there is a challenge, and part of fulfilling it is actually watching the routines. So if you would excuse me?” She looked at him primly from beneath arched eyebrows, and he finally stood.

  “This isn’t you, Elizabeth.”

  She sucked in a breath at the outrageous arrogance of such a claim. “Actually, it’s exactly me. You never really knew me at all.”

  He stared at her for a few moments before he turned to leave. She didn’t watch him walk away. Her eyes remained intent on the body rolls of the men onstage.

  She sat through two acts, barely seeing them, trying not to think about Matt, about why he’d acted the way he had on Sunday, about why he was acting this way tonight.

  She just didn’t understand the man at all.

  When the lights went out before the next routine, she tried to shake the thoughts away and pay attention. Then she saw the roving spotlight meandering its way up with two others to the feet of the sole man on the stage.

  And she knew who it was.

  Even without the announcer’s voice and the very loud screams of excitement, she would have known who this was.

  Matt was going to dance again.

  Maybe it was arrogant on her part, but she somehow knew her behavior toward him had prompted it.

  It was the same act he’d done on the first night she’d visited the club—the one where he was dressed in the undone business suit.

  She stared, mesmerized, as he moved onstage to the leisurely, sensuous music, slowly taking off his clothes.

  She watched the muscles in his torso ripple when the shirt came off, and she stared at the contours of his pelvis when the trousers came off too.

  She couldn’t believe she’d had sex with this man—more than once. He was like a god, like a statue, perfect in every line, like his body was made for giving pleasure to the eye.

  And pleasure to other parts of the body as well.

  She was barely conscious of the other screaming women in the room, since Matt’s eyes held hers and didn’t let go. He rocked his hips against the chair like he was making love to a woman, and Elizabeth swallowed hard at the thought of its being her.

  She still wanted him. No matter how he’d acted, she still wanted him.

  Unlike the first night, he came down from the stage tonight and started making his way through the crowd. He did the thrust feint a few times, teasing women with the idea of humping them but never actually doing it.

  Elizabeth knew he’d eventually get to her. She was who he was heading for. So she wasn’t surprised when he was finally standing in front of her chair.

  Her cheeks were already flushed, and she was breathing hard as she stared up at him.

  Instead of reaching out a hand in invitation, he pulled her to her feet.

  She didn’t resist. She wasn’t sure she could have made herself resist. Nothing inside her, except a few faint reasonable thoughts, wanted to resist in any way.

  He trapped her against the table with his hands on her either side of her and started to rock his groin against her middle, much to the delight of the crowd. Elizabeth’s pussy clenched hard, and kept clenching as he pushed against her. He was staring at her hotly, making it clear that he wanted to be doing this for real.

  She wanted it too.

  At the loud encouragement of the surrounding women, he stepped back and then turned Elizabeth’s body around until he could bend her over the table. She gripped the table and felt him thrusting against her bottom.

  She almos
t moaned out loud as arousal tightened inside her even more.

  She was wet and hot and shaking when he turned her back around to face him. She was definitely going to have to get herself off in the car again tonight before she drove home.

  She desperately needed a release, and she wasn’t going to get one from Matt.

  He was teasing her, trying to prove to her what she was missing because she hadn’t immediately caved to his charm.

  Matt leaned over to say into her ear, “You’re turned on. I can see it.”

  Of course she was turned on. She was like a lit fuse waiting to explode.

  “Your nipples are tight and your pussy is wet. Don’t try to hide it. Everyone in this room can see that you’re turned on for real.”

  “I’m not hiding anything,” she whispered, glaring at him again and pulling back.

  She wasn’t sure what he would say next—or what she would say—but it didn’t end up mattering because the music blared again and Matt had to bring the act to a close.

  As he was walking around accepting tips afterward, he stood in front of her again.

  She didn’t give him a tip. Instead she said into his ear, “It’s not going to work. You can’t seduce me into forgetting what happened. I’m more than just a body, you know.”

  He stared at her blankly, and she realized he didn’t really know what she was talking about. He didn’t know why she’d been so hurt on Sunday. He didn’t think it was any big deal to treat her that way. He assumed she could just get over it if she got a little horny.

  Tired and irrationally sad, she grabbed her purse and started to leave the club. Matt was still in just his underwear, so he couldn’t follow her.

  She’d walked the long distance across the parking lot to her car when she heard footsteps on the pavement behind her. She turned around to see Matt. He’d pulled on a pair of jeans and nothing else, and he was running to catch up with her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, genuinely surprised and confused.

  Something was different in his expression now, almost broken, like a thing he’d been holding together had just been let go. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m really sorry, Elizabeth.”

  “For what?” she asked breathlessly.

  “For everything. For Sunday. For the way I acted. I’m really sorry. Please don’t go.”