Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“Well … I’ve been bouncing back and forth between a couple of series lately … and it just so happens that I’m reading another one about male strippers.”
“I knew you had a thing for strippers.” Derek’s hand finds its way to my bare knee, sending a thrill across my skin.
“I don’t! Well … I mean, the book is pretty sexy. There’s a scene where the men give the heroine a private show in her bedroom, and … who wouldn’t like that?”
“Did they play stripper music?” Jansen pulls out his phone and scrolls for a moment before a thumping bass beat comes from his speakers, quickly getting louder as he dials up the volume.
Laughing, I tell him I don’t remember that detail.
“I’m trying to picture the scene. Was the heroine sitting in a chair?” Derek jumps up and slides my seat—with me still in it—out into the middle of the floor, where there’s plenty of open space. “Maybe they moved like this?”
My eyes bulge out of my head as, standing right in front of me, Derek juts out his hip, first to one side, then the other. Is he going to strip for me?
“What are you doing?” I’m caught between shock and delight as Jansen joins his partner and starts to unbutton his dress shirt, making a big show of it and keeping time with the music. When he eventually gets it undone, he opens one side, exposing half of his impressive chest, then closing the shirt again as he dances around me.
When I look Derek’s way, he takes the opposite approach, tugging hard at both sides of his dress shirt and pulling it open, sending me into a fit of giggles as buttons go flying.
“There’s special tearaway clothing meant for that!” I call out as shiny little white buttons roll away across his dark hardwood floor.
He pulls his shirt over his shoulders, teasing that part of his anatomy, as Jansen continues to flash me half of his chest at a time.
Who are these playful men, and what did they do with my bosses?
Their moves are a little stiff, but they’re actually far better dancers than I might have guessed. Their good looks definitely make up for any deficit in their rhythm.
As the music continues, and after some awkwardness with their pants, which do not tear away, they gradually get down to their boxer briefs, and even though they’re still trying to entertain me, I’m no longer laughing.
The bulges in front of me have me swallowing a lump in my throat. “Sorry I don’t have any dollar bills,” I tell Derek as I run my hands over the smooth skin of his rock solid ab muscles.
He grins and gives me a smoldering look as he thrusts his package into my face, and I tease taking a bite of it, making him laugh.
The song that had been playing fades to an end, and the silence that follows is jarring. The men slow to a stop.
“What happened in the book after the strippers got naked?” Derek asks.
When I arch a brow and make a face to let him know that’s a silly question, Jansen swoops in, puts me over his shoulder, and carries me into Derek’s bedroom, where he tosses me on the bed.
Something very much like the scene in my book follows, only reenacting it with these men is a million times better than reading it. I’m pretty sure I rack up more orgasms than the heroine did, and that’s saying something.
Afterward, when we’re all lying together, limbs overlapping, I say, “I can’t believe you danced for me.”
Derek props himself up on an elbow to smile down at me. “Could you tell we’ve never done that before?”
“We’d never do that for anyone but you,” Jansen says.
A warm feeling spreads through my entire body, and it’s both wonderful and alarming.
My bosses aren’t men you settle down with. They’re men you have dirty, sexy fun with until you can barely walk.
In the world of smutty books, there’s erotica, which is all about sexual pleasure, and then there’s romance, which always delivers a happy ending.
Derek and Jansen have no interest in romance; they’re pure erotica, and that’s okay for now. I’m not looking to settle down at the moment, but I also need to make sure I don’t get attached to them, or want things that aren’t on offer.
They protest when I tell them I’m not spending the night, and this time, I hold firm, using an excuse I’d prepared about my roommate needing my help with something.
I can’t spend the night with them, and it’s not so much because I’m worried about us getting caught, but because I know if they cuddle me in their arms again, it will be impossible to keep my heart out of this.
It may already be too late.
CHAPTER 41
ANA
I’m still feeling the warm fuzzies the next day at work, and I can’t help but grin every time I think about my bosses’ striptease—and I think about it a lot.