Stripping it Down

Stripping it Down

Jami Alden

First published by Kensington Publishing Corporation, 2007

Copyright Jami Alden 2006

Ebook copyright Jami Alden 2015

Ebook published by Jami Alden 2015

Cover Design by Seductive Musings

Ebook Design by KLF Publishing

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical,without permission in writing from the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products or the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Chapter 1

The other day my friend let's call her Sue came crying to me about the latest disaster in her already-pockmarked love life. He was perfect, she sobbed. Smart. Cute. Employed. (Trust me, that's a new one for her.) On their first date they met for brunch and talked for hours. On their second date he showed up with flowers and took her to the hot new restaurant she mentioned wanting to try.

And afterward he took her back to his ultramodern loft and banged the hell out of her.

You know what happened next, don't you girls?

He said he'd call. Of course, he didn't.

The dog.

But don't be so quick to put this doggie down. The way I see it, it's not his fault. It's hers.

Of course, loving and supportive friend that I am, I didn't tell her so.

But really, when are the Sues of the world going to grow up and stop taking it so hard when the boys they bang merely act as expected?

The flowers, the restaurant? Unoriginal moves to get us in the sack. And once they do, they're off, sniffing another ass like any good dog would.

You know me, I'm not saying don't give them what they want"assuming you get what you want too.

But if you're going to be like Sue and spend the morning after crying over your used condom, save yourself the heartache (and your friends the earache) and stay home with your pocket rocket.

Excerpt from Stripping it Down: A Modern Girl's Adventures in Dating by C. Teaser, from online magazine Bustout.com

Come on, Kit, it's your turn.

Kit Loughlin winced and took another sip of her chardonnay as eleven pairs of eyes gave her their undivided attention. Why did these types of gatherings always degenerate into this?

Really, there's not much to tell, she protested.

Not that she had any qualms about discussing her sex life, given that she mined it (and embellished it) regularly on a twice-weekly basis for Stripping It Down.

But telling all under a pseudonym was one thing. Baring all at her best friend Elizabeth's coed bachelorette party was another.

Come on, Nicole, another bridesmaid, urged. Everyone else has revealed the sordid details of their first time. You have to go.

Once again she fought the urge to smack Sabrina, the bridesmaid whose stupid idea this game had been in the first place. Why would anyone in her right mind think it was a good idea for a soon-to-be-wed bride and groom to reveal the details of their past sexual encounters? In front of a crowd, no less.

Yet both the bride, Elizabeth, and the groom, Michael, had jumped in with gusto, eagerly regaling their friends with stories of backseat groping and awkward penetration.

Kit had been hoping to skip her turn, purposely removing herself from the giant sectional that dominated the living room of the Mexican villa to take up a post by one of the windows overlooking the beach.

Everyone else had told their story. Now she was trapped.

She ignored a particularly piercing pair of green eyes that seemed intent on boring a hole straight through her.

C'mon, Kit, don't be such a prude, Elizabeth prodded with a tipsy giggle.

Easy for her to say. When Elizabeth described her first time, she didn't have the distinct pleasure of having the other party in the room staring at her.

Jake Donovan watched her, one dark eyebrow arched, smirking in a way that made her want to smack it off his face. God, if she had known Jake would be joining them on their hedonistic weekend to Cabo, Kit never would have come.

Yeah, Jake rumbled in a voice that after twelve years still had the power to send waves of heat down her spine, we all want to know.

She glared at him, six foot four of gorgeous sprawled on the couch in casual arrogance, the perfect genetic blend of his Italian mother and Irish father, with strong, masculine features and green eyes that stood out against his naturally dark skin.

He wasn't even her typenot anymore anywayin his yuppie uniform of golf shirt and khaki shorts.

She went for artsy, rocker types. Guys who wore Gucci and Prada and product in their hair. Not stuffy venture capitalists with their dark hair cut conservatively short and their all-American ex-football-player brawn draped in the latest corporate logo wear. She met enough of those through her day job as a business reporter for the San Francisco Tribune.

But she couldn't discount the way his eyes glowed against his tan or that his abdomen had none of the softness she'd come to associate with men of his ilk. Unlike his three younger brothers, Jake had left their little town of Donner Lake and never returned, eschewing his father's construction business for an MBA.

But even though he didn't do anything close to manual labor, his biceps strained the sleeves of his golf shirt, veins visible along the swell as he took a sip of Pacifico and grinned.

So he went to the gym in between making millions as a venture capitalist. He still had no right to look so smug. Especially given what she knew about his prowess in the sack.

Or lack thereof.

Really, there's not much to tell, she repeated, casually taking a seat on the arm of the overstuffed armchair occupied by Michael's brother, Dave. It was over so quickly I barely remember it.

Jake sat up straighter.

Got your attention, eh, big boy? Suddenly she relished the chance to let Jake know exactly what she thought of his stick-it-in-and-come technique. It was all very typical, really, she continued. I was seventeen, and the guy was a friend of my brother's – a few years older, of course, so I'd had lots of time to build up a big, hard crush on him.

All the women in the room affected sympathetic smiles.

So one night, he shows up at our house looking for my brother. It was summer vacation, and he and my parents had already gone to the city for the weekend. Everyone ooohed. Except for Jake. He was staring at her quizzically, as though he himself didn't know exactly where this was going.

And this guy, who was totally drunk – although I was too stupid to realize it at the time – tells me some sob story about having a big fight with his girlfriend. She rolled her eyes and took another drink of wine, relishing the way Jake was shifting uncomfortably.

The next thing I know, he's kissing me, and of course, having the giant crush on him that I do, I don't stop to think that perhaps this is not the best idea. Pausing for maximum impact, she said, Five rather painful and awkward minutes later, I was watching his bare ass disappear out the front door.

Even the guys winced at that one.

What happened after that?

Kit snorted. Like you have to ask? He got back together with his girlfriend and never talked to me again.

Jake was glaring at her now, his acre-wide shoulders so tight she could see the outline of his muscles straining against the soft cotton of his shirt. She met his glare head on, daring him to dispute any part of her story.

She reached for the bottle of chardonnay and tipped the last of it into her glass. I'll go get more wine, she said, eager for an excuse to escape the room and Jake's frosty green stare.

She ran down to the wine cellar on shaky legs, praying she wouldn't do a header down the stone staircase. Her pink strappy stiletto sandals certainly didn't help matters. Warning herself to calm down before she broke something, she took the last three steps with extra care and leaned against the cool stone wall of the corridor.

She'd managed to keep it together ever since Jake showed up yesterday morning. After the stunned shock wore off, she'd retreated behind her usual brash friendliness, never hinting that she and Jake were more than casual acquaintances who had gone to high school a few years apart in the same tiny