Stripped From You (Prequel to Strip Me Bare) Author: Marissa Carmel
you know how it ends, now see how it all began…
Stripped From You is the Prequel to Strip Me Bare
Title: Stripped From You (Prequel to Strip Me Bare)
*Author Note- Stripped From You can be read as
a stand-alone novel, but the author suggests reading Strip Me Bare first.
You know how it ends,
now see how it all began…
"It doesn't matter
how many women touch this body, only one woman has ever touched this
soul."
Ryan Pierce
doesn’t come from much, doesn’t ask for much, and doesn’t expect much. And he's
come to accept that, until, Alana Remington. Alana is the girl who struck the
match that lit his world on fire. She's the girl who opened his eyes to more.
Who made him believe that just because you have nothing, doesn't mean you are
nothing. And he loves her fiercely for it. But, just because you come together,
doesn’t mean you stay together. One fateful decision rips Ryan and Alana apart
and neither of them are ever the same again.
For five years he's regretted
that decision, but the deep seeded anger, shame and resentment has kept him
from reaching out. And over those five years, a series of moments have spun
Ryan's world in a direction he never saw coming. A world ruled by endless
nights, infinite women and the name Jack the Stripper. A world, unbeknownst to
him, that may just let two severed hearts collide.
“Do you trust me?”
“Of course not, I just met you.”
“Then how about giving me the benefit of the
doubt?”
She raises an eyebrow at me, and before I give
her a chance to respond I slam the shot then pull her face to mine. And as my
mouth covers hers, heat rapidly spreads through my body. She’s momentarily
stunned. Her body is rigid against me, but then she relaxes, parts her lips and
lets the tart liquid slide into her mouth.
I can’t
believe I just did that.
I can’t
believe she just let me.
After she swallows, she lets her lips linger,
sucking up the taste of the sweet shot, causing my nervous system to shift into
hyper-drive. We break apart slowly, but I refuse to let go of the nape of her
neck. She just stares up at me with these enthralling eyes I know I’ll never be
able to resist.
“Do you always break the rules?” she asks.
“No, not usually, but you seem to make me want
to do crazy things.”
“Was that crazy?”
“Let’s do it again and find out.”
I lick my lower lip, tasting the sweet
remnants of her lip gloss before I drop another shot. I pause for just a beat
before lean down and press my mouth back to hers and let the alcohol flow
between us. I flick my tongue against her teeth right before I pull away. I
shouldn’t like this so much, but I do. I like the way she looks, the way she
feels, they way she smells. There’s something about her, something ventilating;
like she oxygenates the atmosphere.
I catch the cool beats to a song I recognize
pumping though the air. “Do you want to dance?” I ask her.
“You can dance?”
“There’s only one thing I can do better.” I
smirk.
Alana cocks her eye brow suggestively.
“Draw.” I fire back. “The only thing I can do
better is draw. Dirty girl.” I tease as I grab her hand and lead her out to the
dance floor knowing Mac will look after our drinks.
Once we find a comfortable spot, I start to
move to the smooth rhythm, leaving a little room between us so it doesn’t feel
like I’m forcing myself on her. Drake sings coolly about hot love and affection
as we move in sync to the beat, our bodies brushing and grazing as the music
plays on, then finally coming together in a comfortable unison. I wrap one hand
around her waist as I roll my hips into hers, pressing our bodies as close as
they can possibly get. Alana runs her hands up my chest and hooks her arms
lightly around my neck keeping tempo with the music. She moves lithely against
me, inducing my heart, thoughts, and pulse to race. Fuck, I’m drowning in want for this girl. I slide my hands up under
her shirt and caress the smooth, soft skin of her lower back as she nuzzles her
face into my neck, her warm breath skating across my collarbone, making me
instantly hard.
Damn.
She lifts her head and meets my stare, which I
know is filled with lust and unrepentantly wanton. She bites her lower lip, our
bodies still jiving to the slow seductive music. In a brazen move, I slip my
hand up the back of her bare thigh and cup her ass cheek under the hem of her
short shorts. She gasps as I work my fingers against her, massaging the fleshy
part of her bottom. I’m absolutely aching being this close to her, touching
her, stroking her, grinding against her.
“Are you sure drawing is the only thing you
can do better?” she pants in my ear.
Marissa
Carmel has loved writing ever since a young age. She has a duel degree in
History and Political Science, but took as many creative writing classes in
college as she could. She spent most of her twenties bartending, which is where
she met her husband and a multitude of interesting people. When she’s not
reading or writing, she’s hanging out with her family, experimenting in her
kitchen or doing yoga on the living room floor.
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