Married a Stripper

by M. S. Parker

  Five

  Kaleb

  Insane.

  It didn’t even come close.

  And I wasn’t any better.

  Hands braced against the shower wall, I stared down at the floor. Water dripped into my face and eyes, ran down my cheekbones and chin, then along my nose before falling to my feet.

  Water pounded into me from five different angles, the pressure so high, I almost felt like I was getting a top rate massage.

  There was one thing to be said for this set-up so far – the shower was top-notch.

  I could stay in here for another week.

  Or at least another hour or so. If I could do that, maybe things would start making sense.

  Somehow between last night and now, I’d gotten married to one of the most elegant, beautiful women I’d ever met. Not to mention, she was funny and determined. And that was just from the little bit of time I'd spent with her.

  And her shower…

  Groaning, I angled my back so that one of the jets hit it full on, pounding away stress that felt like it had been building for years.

  I needed to make some phone calls. I had to call my boss for one. Even though the bus had already left, I owed it to him – and the rest of the guys – to let them know I wouldn’t be in. Not today, not any other day in the near future.

  I felt like a piece of shit leaving them hanging, but even if I could get to the next tour stop, the bottom line was that Piety was offering more money. A heck of a lot more money. Once I’d heard her friend out, Piety had disappeared, and in less than twenty minutes, she’d returned with cash as promised.

  But it hadn’t been fifteen hundred.

  It was two thousand, and she said if I helped her out, she’d pay me five times that.

  Ten grand. The exact amount I needed.

  While she was gone, I’d looked her up on my phone. It wasn’t hard to find information about her. She was indeed a senator’s daughter and a bit of a do-gooder. Her parents looked like they had a pair of matching sticks shoved up their asses. If they were as bad as she was letting on…

  But even as doubt formed in my mind, I pushed it away. My parents were gone. It was hard to think about doing something just to piss them off although I knew I’d done it a time or two. This, well this was a bit more extreme than anything I could've thought up. Still...

  Shoving away from the wall, I reached for the shampoo. I couldn’t stay in here forever, as much as I was tempted. Even the toiletries smelled like money and the scent hit me hard. It reminded me of how her hair smelled.

  Just that tease was enough to have my prick going hard, and I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut. I didn’t need to be thinking about how damn sexy she was.

  It can’t hurt…you’re married.

  I ignored the taunting voice and focused on scrubbing my hair.

  Piety and I were not married – not really. Whatever bogus marriage that had been performed between us was a sham, one that would be annulled once Piety had done whatever she needed to do to convince her parents to leave her alone.

  Moving under the spray, I rinsed my hair, still trying to pretend I wasn’t acutely aware of how it seemed like the scent of her surrounded me. She smelled so damn good.

  Don’t think about it.

  Hard not to though. She smelled good, felt good. I bet she tasted even better.

  I was already doing a cockstand, and with a vicious swear, I turned the water to cold as I finished scrubbing up. I was shivering by the time I climbed out of the shower, but at least I wasn’t about to walk out of there looking like I was ready to jump…Piety.

  My wife had come to mind first.

  “Focus, Kaleb.”

  Eyes closed, I pushed aside thoughts of the tempting Piety Van Allan and thought about what I needed to get done. Get my stuff from the hotel, call my boss, check in. It didn’t really seem like all that much, but I still felt like the world was spinning around me.

  “One thing at a time.”

  Once I was dressed, I reached for my phone and leaned against the marble countertop, staring at the shower stall in front of me.

  I’d call my boss – or should I say former boss – first.

  He would be pissed off, probably argumentative. And still, it was the easier call.

  Another stab of guilt rose up, but I grabbed it and throttled it, shoving it deep inside a dark closet. I excelled at that. Guilt had been my best friend for a while now – a very one-sided friendship. He visited me daily, and I ignored him, pretending the little shit didn’t exist and everything was fine.

  On the other side of the bathroom door, I heard a bright, happy spate of laughter. That would be Astra. It suited her, that wild laugh, the name. Piety’s laugh was calmer, more subtle. No reason for such a smooth, easy sound to hit me right in the gut, but it did.

  Looking around the bathroom, I figured I had as much privacy now as I was going to get, so I dialed the number and waited.

  “You tell me one good reason I shouldn’t fire your ass,” Jim Romo snapped, his smoke-roughened voice harsher than normal. He paused, taking yet another drag of his cigarette. Cancer would bypass his mean ass, looking for more fertile ground. “Come on, I’m waiting.”

  “I can’t,” I said calmly. There was no point in beating around the bush and leaving him hanging. “Something’s come up, and it will be pretty much impossible for me to keep the job.”

  There was a faint pause, followed by a not so faint explosion. “What in the hell do you mean you’re quitting? This is the thanks I get after giving you this gig?” He paused to suck in a breath. “You ungrateful piece of shit. You had no talent, no skill, but I took you on anyway. Now you’re leaving me hanging.”

  “I’m sorry.” Reaching up, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I can’t say anything more than that. I didn’t plan to leave you hanging, but there’s nothing I can do. Something’s come up.”

  I wasn’t about to tell him the truth. I was already coming off like an ass. I didn’t need to make it worse by telling him it'd been a bad combination of alcohol and a woman.

  “Fine,” he bit off. “You do whatever the hell you want, pretty boy. But don’t think you can come back. I’m done with you.”

  The phone went dead. Lowering it, I closed my eyes. That had gone about as well as I'd expected, and I'd deserved every bit of it. Still, it was nothing compared to what I had to do next.

  Eying the phone narrowly, I picked it up and swallowed the bile that had been rising up my throat ever since I woke up – and not all of it because of the hangover.

  “Just get it over with,” I muttered to myself.

  I dialed the number and waited. One ring. Two. Three.

  It went to voicemail, and I gritted my teeth, swearing silently as her voice came on the line.

  “This is Camry. You know the drill!”

  I didn’t bother leaving a message.

  She hadn’t called back the last few times I’d left one, and I didn't really have anything new to say.

  A wild hoot of laughter came from beyond the door, drawing my attention to the women waiting in the main part of the suite. Despite myself, I was drawn to the levity between the two of them. Drawn to her. I’d like to hear her laugh, and maybe see her smile again – not that caustic one that had flashed across her face when she spoke about her parents.

  I wanted to see a real smile.

  And damn what I would've given to have met her under different circumstances. Shoving away from the counter, I moved to the door and opened it. Time to face the music...

  Silence fell, the conversation between them falling to a complete stop.

  Two gorgeous women looked over at me, and I had another fleeting thought about how crazy my life had become. Not just in the past twelve hours, but in the past few weeks, the past few months.

  A year ago, it had been almost boring. I surfed. I went swimming. I worked at the shop. A nice, boring routine.

  That was it.

  Now, I was staring at
a woman I had somehow married, and I decided this was about as awkward as it had been the first time I’d gone out on stage. Well, maybe not quite that bad. But it was damn close.

  “So…” I shoved my hands into the front pockets of my worn, faded jeans. “What do we do now?”

  Piety got to her feet, her wide, sexy mouth curled into a smile that made me wish I could remember anything from last night. “Today, we’re going to have fun.”

  “Fun?” I repeated. Running my tongue across my teeth, I debated whether or not I should say anything, but then I decided what the hell. “You’ve already paid me two thousand dollars. You’re paying me another eight–”

  “Actually, another ten. I said I’d give you five times that. That’s ten.”

  She’d changed and showered, her hair a little damp. Her pale blue sundress showed off her long legs, and offered just enough cleavage to be tempting but not enough to be scandalous. She looked tired, but I’d be hard pressed to tell that she was suffering the same hangover I was. If I hadn’t seen her earlier, I never would have guessed she'd been black-out drunk less than twelve hours ago.

  Distracted by everything about her, it took me a moment to catch up with what she said. “Wait – what? You’re paying me twelve-thousand dollars?”

  “Yes.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

  “Yes!” Without realizing it, I’d half-yelled and lowered my voice. “No. It’s just…why in the hell does this matter so much to you?”

  “Wait until you meet my parents, and you’ll get it.” She glanced over at Astra before moving toward me. “Anyway, I figure you have clothes to pick up. You need to check out of your hotel, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.” She was dressed similarly to me, in jeans and a t-shirt, her amazing subtle curves making my cock take notice. “Then we’ll take care of that, spend the day getting to know each other before we leave.”

  “We’re leaving?” I rubbed my neck, the headache that had been threatening edging closer and closer. “Where are we going?”

  “Philadelphia. My family reunion.” She pushed her hair back from her face and shrugged. “I’ve already bought your plane ticket – hope you don’t mind. I…um…well, I checked your wallet while you were showering and took care of the arrangements.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Wow. She was…efficient. Efficient. Confident. Capable. Sexy. Man, was she sexy. I realized I was staring at her mouth and jerked my attention back to her eyes. “Okay, so let’s go to…well, my hotel first, right?”

  She nodded, and we moved to the door.

  Behind us, Astra called out. “Have fun, you two! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, PS!”

  “Yeah.” Piety snorted. “That probably covers murder and dismemberment. I don’t think there’s much else.”

  I was smiling as we left. Once the door closed behind us, I looked over at her. “PS? Why'd she say that?”

  “Because she’s weird.” Piety rolled her eyes. “My middle name is Sabine. The whole name is a mouthful – Piety Sabine Van Allan. PS. Also, I told her more than once that I think my folks had me as an afterthought to help my dad’s career. Afterthought…PS.”

  She glanced up at me and shrugged. If I hadn't been staring at her, I probably would've missed the flash of pain that moved across her eyes, then disappeared. I didn't need to know much about her to understand what had prompted that look.

  I shook my head. “I don’t see how anybody could think of you as an afterthought, Piety Van Allen.”

  Six

  Piety

  Those words tugged at my heart, and as we stood out in the hall, I found myself reaching up to touch his cheek, wanting that contact. His eyes widened a little, and it was that alone that made me realize what I was doing.

  I forced a smile. It was fake, but I knew from experience it would come off as real enough. One thing a politician’s daughter learned how to do at a young age was how to offer a sincere-looking false smile.

  “Sorry…you’ve just got…” I pretended to brush something off his cheek. “There. All better. Come on, let’s get going.”

  I started down the hall, my face flaming as he caught up with me.

  What had I been getting ready to do?

  Oh, man.

  What was I doing, period?

  Paying him twelve thousand dollars to be my pretend husband so I could get my parents to leave me alone?

  Except it’s not pretend, my conscience whispered. You did marry him.

  He was quiet as I pushed the elevator button, and I glanced up to find him studying me. The elevator door slid open, and we stepped inside, but my wish to have company to keep the conversation at a minimum went ungranted.

  “Do you want to do this?” he asked softly. “Or did your mate talk you into it?”

  I didn’t blink twice at the word mate. I’d spent one of the best summers of my life in Sydney the year after I graduated high school. He'd dropped a lot of the terms I would have expected somebody from fresh out of Oz to use, and I found myself smiling a little at the language.

  “Astra and I have been friends a long time. She can nag me into a lot of things,” I admitted, “but she can’t push me into doing anything I don’t really want to do.” I met his eyes and smiled. “This isn’t a bad idea.”

  Oh, yes, it was.

  “You don’t sound too convinced of that.”

  I blinked, wondering if he was guessing or if I'd lost some of my skill at masking what I was thinking.

  “What makes you say that?” I asked as the elevator doors slid open.

  “Something in your eyes. You look…nervous.” He shrugged as we came to a stop in the middle the lobby. All cream and gold, it was understated elegance in the middle of one of the glitziest cities in the world.

  Not too far away lay one of the many entrances to the casino. I reached over and took his hand. “Come on.”

  He followed along, but when he saw where we were going, his brows went together. “If you want to gamble, I’ll probably just stand at your shoulder.”

  “That’s fine.” I slanted him a glance over my shoulder. “Or you could let me spot you a hundred dollars. If you don’t do much with it, fine. And if you win anything…it’s yours.”

  “I…” He scowled even harder and I wondered if he ever let himself have a little fun. I would've thought a stripper would've been a little more daring.

  “Come on.” I winked at him. “It’s Vegas. You gotta live a little bit while you’re here.”

  “I’m living plenty, thanks.” He flashed me a wry smile, one that managed to set my heart to racing. “I ended up with a beautiful bride, didn’t I?”

  That prompted a real smile even as I rolled my eyes at him. “I…well, I don’t think that counts. We were drunk off our asses.”

  I continued to tug him along with me as I sought out one of the cashiers. After getting some cash, I pushed a hundred into his hand. “Know how to play Texas Hold’Em?”

  “Yes.” He shook his head as he gave me a wry grin. “I guess you don’t know how to take no very well, do you?”

  “Sure I do.” I nudged him with my elbow as we made our way over to the gaming tables. “The problem is…you haven’t exactly said no. Come on. One hand, and if you don’t have fun, I’ll leave you alone.”

  “One more hand.”

  “No.” I glared at him and his ever-growing pile of chips, although I wasn’t really mad. He’d taken that hundred I'd given him and somehow turned it into over seven. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a card shark.”

  The dealer laughed.

  So did Kaleb.

  “It’s just luck.” He winked at me and a couple of others chuckled.

  “The little lady’s a sore loser,” a heavyset man next to me said, leaning close enough that I could smell the remnants of his breakfast on his breath – onions and sausage.

  Pleasant.

  “Not really. I’m just a better winner.” I gave him a bland smil
e and got up to take the seat that had been vacated next to Kaleb. “I’m done though. I’m going to find a slot machine and engage in something a little less strenuous on my poor little female brain.”

  He half-choked on the water he’d requested from the server when I fluttered my lashes at the man across from us, who blinked at me, clearly wondering if I’d somehow insulted him.

  The dealer was holding back a smile.

  I left her a tip and gestured to Kaleb where I’d be. He could see me from the table, and I could see him. We’d exchanged phone numbers earlier, and since he was enjoying himself – and kicking ass – I figured it was as good a time as any to move onto something I didn’t totally suck at.

  Plus, I could get away from sausage and onion breath.

  At least that was the plan.

  I’d only been at my chosen slot machine for ten minutes when the one next to me opened up. When Sausage and Onion sat down, I mentally groaned but ignored him, focusing on the machine in front of me. All the luck I was lacking in Poker today, I was making in spades on my shiny slot machine. I was up to almost twelve hundred dollars, and I’d started out with a hundred.

  “Well now, looks like you found your groove, sweetheart.”

  I didn’t respond.

  Sometimes if a girl ignored the creepers, they went away.

  And…sometimes they didn’t. When he patted my shoulder, I glanced over as if just now noticing him. “Oh, hi. Bored with poker, I see.”

  “Yeah. That Australian shit is cheating or something, I kid you not.” He smirked over toward the table and then smiled at me. “Maybe you and I could go hit up another game…or something.”

  “No, thanks.” I focused back on the machine, then laughed when three 7s lit up on the play line and music began to jingle.

  “You’re doing pretty well there,” he said, admiration a little too thick in his voice.

  I made a low noise in my throat that could have been a thanks – or anything else.