THE RELUCTANT STRIPPER by Ruth D.doc

THE RELUCTANT STRIPPER by Ruth D. Kerce
(Copyright © 1999, all rights reserved)

      "I can do this," Hannah muttered outside the hotel room. Deep, male laughter filtered through from under the closed door. The rumbling sound made her situation frighteningly real. Hannah's heart pounded harder against her ribs, and her stomach clenched. "I can do this."

      She tugged at the French Maid's uniform pinching her, and gripped her boom box tightly. Just one night. That's all it was. She slipped in the key card, awkwardly turned the knob, and stepped inside the room as she'd been instructed to do earlier.

      She stood immobile in front of the door. They hadn't heard her enter. Hannah wondered which man was the groom-to-be. Four of them were crowded in front of the television, laughing and watching what she suspected from their crude comments must be an adult movie.

      Apparently not interested in the x-rated flick, a fifth man stood against the far wall with a beer bottle in his hand. Something must have alerted him to her presence for he looked up and their gazes locked. A smile tugged at his lips.

      Hannah's nerves took a nosedive. Please let this be over with fast.

      The man pushed away from the wall. "We have company, gentlemen."

      Except for the television, all sound in the room ceased. The group of men turned toward her. Five pairs of eyes raked Hannah's body from head to toe.

      She tried to paste on a smile, but found it difficult. If she hadn't needed the money so badly, she never would have allowed Lily to talk her into doing this. Would they know this was her first time?

      The man who'd spoken walked up to her. "Please ... join us." He took her hand and led her into the center of the room. He passed his beer bottle to one of the other men and then grabbed the boom box and set it on the double bed. "My name is Miller. And you are?"

      "H-Hannah." The men formed a semi-circle around her. She choked back her apprehension as she looked from one to another. "Which one is George--the lucky groom?"

      "Uh ... that's me." A pouchy man, only slightly taller than Hannah, stepped forward.

      He looked relatively harmless. All of them did, except for Miller, who somehow made her nervous. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. None of them had tried to grab her. And three of the men hadn't even said anything, though they were ogling her with interest.

      "A friend of yours arranged this little surprise," she announced, her voice a little higher than it normally would be under calmer circumstances. She reached over to press "play" on the box she'd brought. As the slow, pounding music filled the room, Miller flipped off the television.

      Hannah smiled seductively at George, trying to pretend he was someone else--someone mysterious and sexy. She kept sneaking glances at Miller. His intense green eyes disturbed her, like he could see through to all her darkest secrets. Was he the one who'd paid for tonight?

      She began to dance to the beat of the music. Her hips moved sensually back and forth as she inched closer to George. She was careful not to touch him though. No touching. She'd demanded that before accepting the job. Lily had assured her.

      With slow, deliberate movements she began to unbutton the front of her costume. If she could detach herself from the act, she'd be okay. George was practically salivating as he stared at her still-concealed breasts in anticipation.

      Hannah felt nauseous. How did Lily do this nightly? She'd said it was no big deal. If Lily weren't her closet cousin and good friend, she'd never have believed her. Still, this wasn't the life for her. Hannah pulled at her bodice. The faster she got this over with the better.

      Suddenly, two hands covered hers from behind. She froze and squeezed her eyes closed. Trouble. This had not been a good idea. She should have come up with another way to get the money she needed. What was she thinking to have agreed to strip--alone--for a group of men?

      "Slow down," Miller whispered in her ear.

      Hannah glanced over her shoulder and met his concerned gaze. He released her, and she relaxed. It hadn't been an attack. All she needed to do was calm down. Come tomorrow this would just be a bad memory.

      George crowded closer and reached for her buttons. "I'll help."

      "Go get her, George," one of the other men encouraged, causing the rest of the group to clap and cheer.

      Hannah stepped back, trying to get away from him, and she rammed into Miller's chest. His arm snaked around her waist, steadying her. She didn't like the predatory gleam in the men's eyes as they closed in on her.

      A loud crash cut through the sexual tension, and everyone jumped in alarm.

      "George!" a woman shreiked from the doorway of the room. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

      "Alice! I-I'm not doing anything," George sputtered. "Just having a little party."

      The petite woman stalked forward and rounded on Miller and Hannah. After a quick look of disgust at Hannah, she pointed a finger at Miller. "This is all your fault, trying to corrupt my sweet darling."

      "Now, Alice, don't have a fit," Miller replied in a soothing voice as he reached to turn off the music.

      Hannah wanted to shrink away, but Miller's arm was still tightly wrapped around her waist. The night had turned into a disaster. She wondered if she'd have to give back the money. Her heart sank at the thought.

      Alice spun around, latched onto George's ear, and dragged him from the room, yelling at him the entire way. The silence left in their wake was thick enough to cut with a knife.

      "I guess the party's over, guys," Miller announced.

      The others nodded. They avoided looking at Hannah as if embarrassed by being caught with her. It made her feel dirty, and that angered her. She had no reason to be ashamed!

      The guys scurried from the room like cockroaches caught in the light. The door clicked shut behind them, and Hannah felt a sudden wave of relief. She quickly buttoned her costume and pulled away from Miller. As she reached for the boom box, his voice stopped her.

      "Going somewhere?"

      From his tone, she knew this night wasn't over. Darn! She'd hoped to make a quick exit--money and dignity left intact. She turned toward Miller. Maybe she could bluff her way through. After all it wasn't her fault the party bombed. "As you said ... the party's over."

      "I paid for two hours."

      "But ... no one's here."

      "I'm here," he rasped, and sat in one of the hotel chairs. "Beer?" He indicated the cooler on the table next to him.

      "No, thank you." She twisted her hands. "So you want me to--"

      "Strip for me."

      The way he said it sounded more like a command than a request. She couldn't very well refuse, she supposed. Not if she wanted to keep the money.

      She flipped on the music and began to dance. Her nerves were stretched tight. Dancing for Miller alone like this was worse than doing it for the group--it was too intimate. His eyes followed her every movement. She felt as if he was touching every bare inch of her body.

      Hannah slowly unbuttoned her costume, feeling the heat of her body rise at the thought of Miller seeing her naked. She shimmied out of the uniform, letting it pool at her feet. Her bra and panty covered her sufficiently, but she felt naked under Miller's heated stare. An unexpected surge of desire washed over her as she eyed his well-toned body, wondering what he would look like without his clothes on.

      Miller stood, and Hannah's heart leapt. She backed away a couple of steps. Her eyes followed him as he slowly walked forward, stopping when his shoe brushed the French Maid's costume on the floor.

      This was getting too intense for Hannah. She knew where it might lead and wasn't so sure she'd be able to stop it. Her nerves completely shot, she reached out and turned off the music, ready to make a hasty exit. "Okay, you got your strip."

      He cocked an eyebrow and his gaze traveled down her body. "Not much of one." He picked up the costume and handed it to her. "You don't do this for a living."

      He knew. Well, no need to pretend anymore. Hannah sank down on the bed, clutching the costume. "Is it that obvious?" she asked dispiritedly.

      Shrugging, he sat down beside her. "Why are you doing this?"

      "I needed the money." The tension of the evening and last few weeks finally caught up with her. She sniffled, but held back her tears. She would not cry in front of him. "Will I have to give it back?"

      "What do you need it for?" he asked softly, caressing the back of her hand, which had a death-grip on the costume in her lap.

      She relaxed a little, easing her hold, but only because Miller seemed genuinely concerned. "My mother's in a private nursing home. If I don't come up with a payment for the next three months, she'll have to be moved to a public facility."

      "I'm sorry." He interlaced his fingers with hers. "The amount I paid couldn't be enough for that."

      "I was hoping they'd take a down payment." She felt a tear escape, and angrily wiped it away. The costume slid off her lap, and she suddenly felt naked and vulnerable. She reached to retrieve it.

      Miller stopped her. "No. Don't." He turned her chin toward him until their lips were only a breath apart. "I'm sorry about your mother, Hannah. Please don't worry. Things usually work out. Keep the money I paid." He kissed her lightly, like a man would kiss his beloved. "Make that down payment."

      He was so sweet. She felt like throwing herself in his arms and crying out all her fears. Instead, she drew in a deep breath. "Can you call me a cab?"

      "I'll take you home," he again brushed his lips across hers and his eyes darkened seductively, "if you want to go."

      She sighed against his mouth. It felt so good to be touched, to be held like this. "I should ... probably."

      "Probably." He kissed her neck, lingering in that one spot until she trembled. He moved up to lightly kiss her cheek. "Maybe ...," he kissed the sensitive skin below her ear, "... you should take tonight ...," his lips slid down to the corner of her mouth, "... and try to forget your troubles." His hand eased across her bare stomach, caressing her skin.

      The heat from his hand immediately reminded Hannah of her state of undress, and she tried to cover herself with her hands. "I don't even know you, Miller," she whispered against his mouth. Her voice sounded feeble to her ears.

      "Pretend you do," he whispered back. He covered her lips in a searing kiss that curled her toes.

      Hannah gripped his forearms, needing to hold onto something for balance before she melted to the floor. She expected Miller to deepen the kiss, secretly craved for him to do so, but he surprised her by pulling back.

      With a light touch, he traced the skin just above the top of her bra. A small smile tugged at his lips. "Soft," he breathed, his voice barely audible. "Maybe you'll take this off for me. Let me see you."

      Hannah couldn't sit still. His touch, his words, were too compelling. She bolted to her feet and walked over to the cooler. Maybe a beer would settle her nerves. A jumble of emotions raged inside her as she tried to decide what to do. She gasped when she realized Miller had followed her. He pressed against her back.

      "I don't usually spend the night with strange men," she blurted out before she could stop herself.

      Miller slipped an arm around her waist. "I'm sure you don't, Hannah." He kissed her shoulder as he fiddled with the clasp of her bra.

      She didn't stop him. She couldn't. Her body was on fire. It had been so long since she'd done anything for herself, even allowing herself to feel like a woman had been put on hold.

      Her bra hung loose when Miller finally unhooked it. He eased his hands under the lacy material to gently cup her bare breasts like they were precious gifts meant for his touch only.

      Hannah sighed and leaned back against his chest. "Oh, yes." She felt him relax, as if he'd been waiting for her rejection. His thumbs brushed her nipples, causing bolts of desire to shoot through her.

      "I need to touch you all over, Hannah. Let's move this to someplace more comfortable." Miller took her hand and led her over to the bed. He turned to face her and gently slid the bra from her body and dropped it on the floor. His pupils dilated as his gaze fixed on her breasts. "You're so beautiful."

      "You're overdressed," she whispered with a small smile, fingering the buttons of his shirt.

      "So I am." He chuckled and placed his hands over hers, stopping her movements. "Lie down."

      Hannah didn't argue. She lay down on the mattress, her gaze never leaving Miller, who slowly began to strip for her. She grinned at the irony of it.

      He bared his body without hesitation. His hard muscles and the sexy smile he directed at her made Hannah ache. When he loomed naked before her, she quivered in anticipation.

      Miller leaned over and grasped the straps of her string bikini and pulled them down her legs. "I love a long-legged woman. So sexy." He inched his hands up her legs, spreading them apart.

      Miller kissed the sensitive inside of her knee, then grazed his tongue up her thigh. "Mmm, silky sweet." He nuzzled the hair between her legs, opening her with his fingers. His hot breath caressed her intimate core.

      Reaching down, Hannah touched his head. "No, Miller."

      He looked up and confusion filled his face. "No? Why not?"

      "Well ... it's just that ...," she bit her bottom lip, "... no one's ever ... done that to me."

      "Never?" At the shake of her head, he dropped a soft kiss just below her belly button. His hands massaged her stomach and hips. "Let me, Hannah. Please. The pleasure you'll get from it will be incredible. Trust me."

      She did trust him. Somehow, with Miller, it seemed all right. A thrill of anticipation raced through her, and she nodded.

      Miller smiled and dipped his head. He flicked his tongue between her wet folds.

      Hannah gasped at the sensation and clutched the blanket beneath her.

      "Relax," he coaxed. "Breathe." Once her tension eased, he opened his mouth against her.

      Her hips rose in response. Hannah had never felt anything so intense. Her hands found Miller's head, and her fingers tangled in his hair. "Oh, yes. Don't stop."

      Sliding his hands under her butt, Miller lifted her fully against his mouth, licking and sucking, until she was writhing and moaning beneath him. Just as she was about to burst, he pulled back. "Hannah?"

      Struggling to catch her breath, she opened her eyes and their gazes locked.

      "You taste good."

      She felt her face flush and under normal circumstances would have been mortified, but the needs of her body erased her embarrassment. "Please, Miller ..."

      "More?"

      She nodded.

      With a triumphant grin, Miller lowered his head and gave her what she needed.

      Hannah's breathing turned rapid as her body responded to his mouth. Her desire, hot and primitive, grew to a fevered pitch, then exploded in a blin...