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Stripped
  • Текст добавлен: 31 октября 2016, 01:00

Текст книги "Stripped"


Автор книги: Lauren Dane



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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 9 страниц)










CHAPTER FOUR

Dahlia filled her days with school, class work, job hunting, and at night she worked at The Dollhouse. If she stopped for one minute she’d think of Nash and she couldn’t afford to. Hell, he already consumed her thoughts twenty-three hours a day as it was. Nash made her want things she shouldn’t want. A man like Nash wasn’t for her. Her mind knew that but the rest of her wasn’t so damned convinced.

Her body won out at least in part. The day after he’d left, she’d thought all day long and had come to the decision that an affair with a man like Nash would be fun. She’d have a great time in bed and most certainly learn a few things, and she liked him. He seemed to like her, too, although she wasn’t quite sure if a hundred percent of his niceness was real or practiced seduction.

The fact was, they both knew sex was going to happen. As long as she went into the fling knowing it had an expiration date, she’d be all right. No harm, no foul and a lot of heat between the sheets for a while.

True to his promise, he did e-mail. As ridiculous as it was, when she opened each one, a thrill went through her. Undeniably, she was touched by the pictures he sent, sharing Paris with her through his camera phone. How could she not be bowled over by the gesture? It seemed so unlike a man of Nash’s reputation.

Feeling better for making her decision about the fling with Nash, as well as creating some emotional boundaries for herself, she’d been rustling through her bag for her keys as she walked up to her apartment. She failed to notice him standing at her door until she was nearly on him, jumping when he said her name.

“Shit! I didn’t see you.”

He looked sexy in jeans and a dress shirt, open at the collar. His smile warmed her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I got home early. You got some time for me?”

Without another word, she unlocked the door, motioning him inside with her chin. Closing it with her foot, she bolted it, dropped her backpack on the chair and toed off her sneakers.

“I have lots of time for you. Question is, are you going to have enough strength for what I have in mind?” She moved toward him and he grinned.

“I’m all yours, babe. I slept on the plane. You look good.”

He took a step to her and suddenly their bodies were wrapped together from lips to toes.

“Bedroom?” he gasped, breaking the kiss.

Tugging his hand, she led him to her bedroom and he slammed the door behind himself. “You. Naked. Now.”

“Oh. My.” Her hands went to the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head, tossing it aside. She shimmied out of her jeans and got rid of her socks, standing before him in nothing more than some lip gloss and a matching panty-and-bra set with cherries on them.

He managed to make a mental note to buy her some lingerie with the cherry motif. She seemed to like it, and God knew he did.

“You have an amazing body, Dahlia. So pretty. Let me see it all.”

Reaching around, she unhooked her bra and let it slide to the floor just before she stepped out of her panties. She was a goddess. Absolutely gorgeous.

“The first time I saw you I thought, now there’s a woman a man can sink himself into for days. Only, I had no idea just how alluring you were. Lay back.”

Moving to lie down on her bed, she looked up at him, eyes filled with sex and trouble. “That’s really nice. You’re good with the words there, maestro. So, now, when do you get naked?”

He chuckled. “Good things come to those who wait, Dahlia.”

Lightning quick, he grabbed her ankle and pulled her toward him, bringing her ass right to the edge of the mattress. She stared up at him, pupils huge, lips parted, and when he dropped to his knees she gasped.

Openmouthed, he kissed and licked up the inside of her leg, from ankle to knee, stopping to lave the hollow at the back. The skin of her inner thigh was velvet-soft and he could smell just how much she wanted him. Her scent did something to him, tightened things low in his gut. His cock throbbed in time with the frantic beat of his heart, and he fought to control this rampant desire she brought out in him.

Spreading her thighs wide with his shoulders, he parted her labia with his thumbs and looked his fill at the pretty pink furls of her pussy.

“Damn, this has be the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. And all swollen and wet just for me. I like that part the best.” Looking up, he met her eyes as she stared down at him.

Moving his thumbs, he used the flesh of her labia and clitoral hood to stroke against her clit, slow and sure. He alternated between watching her pussy swell and darken and looking into her face as she fell deeper and deeper toward orgasm.

“Please!” she finally burst out, sounding desperate.

“Please what, Dahlia? I want you to tell me what you want.”

Her eyes narrowed and she swallowed. “Make me come, Nash.”

“With my fingers like this?” He slid two fingers deep and squeezed her clit gently between slippery thumb and forefinger of the other hand. A ragged groan tore from her lips as she rolled her hips into his hand.

“No! Or yes. Sure. Whatever!”

He chuckled and took his hands away. “You don’t sound so sure. How about with my mouth like this.” Leaning in, he took a swirling lick from her gate up around her clit, tickling the underside of it with the tip of his tongue.

“Yes! Oh, yes, like that,” she whispered urgently.

“Now that sounds sure. It also sounds like you like to be told what to do. I’ll have to keep that in mind for later,” he murmured just as he got back to work.

His mouth on her was sure and aggressive, much like he was. Dahlia gave in to the sensations that rode her spine from clit to nipples to brain. Every inch of her skin felt alive and electric.

There wasn’t an inch of her pussy his mouth missed. As her hands gripped the bedspread, his tongue surveyed every fold, every dip and bump. Lapping, licking, grazing with the edge of his teeth, rolling his lip against her clit, his erotic assault on her was relentless.

Dahlia was sure nothing had ever felt so damned good. Her head whipped from side to side as she begged for more, writhed and clutched the blankets. He was as good with his mouth when it was eating pussy as he was with those damned compliments. The man was a menace.

And then he pressed two fingers into her and turned his wrist, curling the fingers until he found a spot so sweet inside her she was sure she’d never experienced such sharp and intense pleasure before.

It was all over when he slowly sucked her clit between his lips, grazing it ever so gently with his teeth. Her back bowed as a hoarse cry came from her. Orgasm rose up and sucked her under. There was nothing else but his mouth on her, his hands holding her, touching her.

He continued to push her right into another smaller but still intense aftershock climax. He would have continued for another but she couldn’t take the intensity any further and scrambled up the bed, away from that wicked, wicked mouth.

She felt him move next to her and cracked open an eye. “That mouth of yours ought to be registered as a lethal weapon.”

“Just wait till you see what I can do with my cock.”

She moaned, rolling to look at him. “Let’s go. Show me. But you’re not naked. This perturbs me.”

He grinned and sat up, quickly divesting himself of the shirt before scrambling off the bed to deal with his pants, socks and underwear. His upper body was delicious. A chest that wasn’t too hairy, nicely defined pecs, wide shoulders leading to a tapered, narrow waist. Muscled biceps and forearms made her wonder just how many surfaces he could fuck her against as he held her up.

She rolled off the bed, following him. “Let me do that.” Falling to her knees, she unbuttoned the jeans and slid them and the boxer briefs down muscled thighs, helping him out of them and his socks.

“I’ve had this recurring fantasy,” she said, looking her fill at his gorgeous body.

“What a coincidence. I’ve had this one before, too,” he said drily.

Her hands slid up his calves and thighs. Nice and hard. “You work out.” Palms smoothing over the hard lines of his abdomen, she trailed a fingertip around his navel and then down the arrow of brown-blond hair leading to his cock.

Without any further preamble, she wrapped a fist around the base and angled his cock to take him into her mouth. Round and round her tongue slid over the head and crown, tasting the salty tang of pre-cum that beaded at the slit.

He sighed her name and she smiled momentarily before moving to take more of him between her lips. Rocking back and forth, she moved on him, taking him into her over and over, learning him, loving his taste.

Hands sliding through her hair, he held her in a sure grip, guiding her, and a thrill moved through her at the control he exerted. Cupping his balls in her palm, she pressed two fingertips to the spot just behind them and he jumped and then groaned.

* * *

Nash looked down to see her kneeling there before him, all lush curves and carnal beauty. Those big brown eyes were closed, the lashes swept down against her cheeks. As she moved forward on him, her hair slid and covered a nipple just partially, playing a game of peekaboo hotter than anything she did onstage.

That this woman, a woman he’d been fantasizing about and pursuing for months, was on her knees, her mouth wrapped around his cock, blew his mind. Her taste still painted his lips, her scent on his hands and face. Here in her room, surrounded by her, she marked him and it only really occurred to him at that very moment just how deeply.

He waited, watching her as his orgasm approached, weighing coming with wanting to fuck her right at that very moment. It was the idea of seeing her, watching as he slid into her that made his choice, but Dahlia was having none of that.

“Baby, wait.” He tried to step back but she shook her head and continued. “I want to be inside you when I come. I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for three-and-a-half months. And after you came apart on my lap, coming so pretty the last time I was here, I’ve wanted you even more.”

She pulled off and looked up at him. “Oh, you’ll be fucking me. But now you’re going to let me finish this. I don’t plan on letting you leave for many hours.”

Before he could argue she took him deep and hard, swirling her tongue around as she did.

“Fuck!” Damn it, that felt good. The woman had some skill, that was for sure. It only took another minute or two until he locked his knees and his head fell back as he came on a hoarse cry.

Giving the head of his cock a parting kiss, she stood and pushed him back onto the bed. “Rest up. I’m going to order a pizza. I haven’t eaten all day and I think I’m going to need my strength. I know you will.” She grinned. “You do like pizza?”

He smiled. The whole thing was novel to him. The student apartment, take-out pizza and making love to a woman he…well, he really liked. “Anything but anchovies. Do you have beer?”

“Do I have beer? What kind of silly question is that?” She leaned over the bed, her luscious ass in the air as she riffled through some papers. He saw the glistening lips of her pussy and his heart skipped a beat.

Sitting up on the bed she called for pizza with expertise that told him she’d done it many times and then turned back to him. “Beer now? I’m going into the kitchen.”

“Sounds great. Thanks.”

Lying there, hands behind his head, he watched the captivating sway of her ass as she left the room. From his spot he could see her go into the kitchen and grab two beers, pull the bottle opener off the fridge and crack them both open one-handed and come back toward him.

“It’s Friday night. Pizza won’t be here for an hour or so. Whatever shall we do in the meantime?”

He grabbed the beer out of her hand, took several long pulls and put it on the nightstand. “I’m ready to fuck you now.”

Without another word she put three condoms on the nightstand next to his beer. “Let’s go.”

Reaching out, he took her wrist and pulled her down to the bed with him. “Open those thighs, Dahlia.” He slid a fingertip along her labia, grinning. “Still wet, I see. Good.”

One-handed, he rolled a condom on and pushed her knees up and apart, holding her wide open for him. She reached around and guided the blunt head of him true just as he thrust into her body with one long, hard movement.

Her eyes widened as a gasp tore from her lips and then closed momentarily as she sighed softly.

He held her open to him, with his grip on her legs. The weight of his body spread and positioned her just the way he wanted her, her skin soft and warm under his palms, her breasts swaying with each press he made deep into her pussy. The clasp and clutch of her body welcomed him with each roll of her hips.

Her hair spread about her head, eyes looking up into his face, lips parted just so, glossy and still swollen from sucking his cock—so fucking beautiful and desirable his chest hurt just looking at her.

“Arms above your head, grab the headboard.” Smiling, he took in her reaction as she did it. Her breasts hitched up, her back arched and her eyelids dropped to half-mast. Ah, she liked being dominated. Good, he liked dominating her.

The room was quiet but for the wet sounds of cock meeting pussy and her soft sighs and whimpers. Oranges and purples colored the walls and her skin as the sun began to set.

Each piston of his hips sent his cock deeper into her body, building, building his orgasm from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.

Her bottom lip caught between her teeth and a pretty flush began to pinken her skin.

“Dahlia, make yourself come. I want to feel your pussy come around my cock.”

* * *

Oh, how she loved a man who knew what he was about in the bedroom! Even more, a confident, dirty-talking man with an edge of dominance. Yum.

“Can I move my hand?”

Leaning down, he nipped her bottom lip. “Yes.”

Bringing her hand to her lips, she wet her fingers and he groaned. The deep sound echoed through her body. Her hand slid, slowly, down her body to her pussy. Knowing he was watching her thrilled her right to her toes.

Her clit was a hard knot beneath her fingers. Reaching down to where they were joined, she brought more lube upward, slowly circling it, a soft sigh coming from her lips.

“Does that feel good, Dahlia?”

His gaze didn’t give her any room to deny or ignore the question.

“Yes.”

“It does indeed. Your pussy is hot and greedy, Dahlia. Every time I pull out, it grabs me and sucks me back in. It feels so good. Tastes good, too, soft and wet. I can’t wait to taste you again.”

Words failed so she just nodded enthusiastically. Hell, yes, she wanted that, too.

A razor-thin space held her back from climax. It threatened just behind a wall of time, and, with a moan of pleasure, it burst through her, blinding her to anything but the two of them—his hands holding her open to his thrusts, her fingers playing against her clit, the smell of sex hanging in the air and the weight of his body over her own. Coming always felt so immense when a cock filled her pussy, made her feel just slightly out of control. And as a woman who put a high premium on control, such moments meant all the more.

“Damn, that feels good,” he whispered just as she felt the first jerk of his cock, climax bowing his back as he made one last, deep press into her pussy and held himself there for long moments.

Watching him above her, a slow bead of sweat rolled down his neck. Utterly unable to resist, she leaned up and licked from shoulder to earlobe, tasting the salt of his skin.

He sighed, rolling to the side and dealing with the condom. Moments later he was back, pulling her against him while they caught their breath.

The doorbell rang and she got out of bed, grabbing a robe near the door. Snorting, he pulled his jeans on quicker and moved past her. “You think I’m gonna let some punk of a pizza guy see you nearly naked? Uh-uh, that’s my special treat.”

“There’s a twenty near the door!” she called out as he left the room and she headed to the bathroom.

She emerged to find him laying out plates at her table. The smell of a fully loaded pizza wafted through the air, mixing in a very wonderful way with sex. Pizza, Nash and hot sex? A very nice combo. If there’d been chocolate involved it would have officially been Nirvana.

“What are you thinking about? That’s one wicked grin you’ve got there.” He laid two pieces of the pie on her plate and then on his own. “And I quite like that you’re a super combination pizza sort of woman.”

“Why is that?” Taking a bite, she closed her eyes, savoring the taste.

“You’re a woman of voracious appetites. I like that. Lush, carnal, intellectual, funny and not afraid to eat. That’s really rare these days.”

Opening her eyes, she cocked her head, watching him. “You give wonderful compliments, Nash.”

Pausing, he smiled. “Thank you. I meant it. I love unique things—you’re one of a kind.”

His words felt cuttingly familiar. “Like a ’54 ’Vette? Where do I fit in your collection?”

She’d been there before, and there was no way she’d go back again.

Putting down his pizza, he took her wrist, pulling her against his body. “Is that what you think? That’s pretty unfair, Dahlia. I meant it as a compliment. You’re not something I collect, nor have I given you reason to think so.”

Looking into his eyes, she believed the hurt in his voice and realized he was right. He had been good to her. Nothing like Warner. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just an old wound, I suppose.”

Nodding, he kissed the tip of her nose and let her go. “Apology accepted. But someday I’d like to hear that story. The one my comments brought back for you.”

Waving it away, she shook her head. “Some things are best left in the past. But for tonight, I have some movies I rented. Do you have the time?”

“Absolutely, and I’d love to spend it with you.”

Grinning, she walked into the living room and put her plate down. Moving to the TV she saw the money still on the table near the door. Picking it up, she turned to him. “You forgot this.”

He rolled his eyes. “No, I didn’t. You made dinner last time. I got the pizza. It’s only fair.”

Narrowing her eyes at him a moment, she shrugged, putting the twenty into a little container on the shelf near the door. “Thank you.”

Settling on the couch, they watched the first hour of a sci-fi movie before the kissing got too hot and heavy and they’d fallen to the carpet in a mess of writhing, tangled limbs.











CHAPTER FIVE

Nash was sure he’d never had a better time than the night he spent with Dahlia at her tiny apartment drinking beer, eating pizza and having the best sex of his life.

Damn, the woman was a firecracker. Sexy as all get-out, smart, passionate, talented in the kitchen and onstage. But wounded. There was a hesitation in her when it came to his intentions. It stung, he had to admit to himself. He wanted her to trust him. At the same time, that vulnerability did something to him, made her all the more appealing, and he wanted to prove himself to her. Let her know she could trust his motives.

Tenderness came over him when he remembered the shy hesitation in her voice as she’d asked him to sleep over. They’d made love the third time and lay in an exhausted heap on her living room floor, and she’d whispered it so sweetly.

Did he want to wake up next to her sleep-warm body and slowly slide his cock into her pussy? Was that a rhetorical question?

And he had woken up with her ass snuggled up into the cradle of his hips, her head pillowed on his shoulder. Slowly, he traced circles around her nipple while the other hand slid between her thighs.

She awoke on a gasp as climax unleashed within her and he’d kicked off the best Saturday morning he’d ever had.

That’d been two weeks before and they’d now officially been dating a month. He’d seen her every chance he got, working around both their busy schedules to spend as much time as possible together.

Naturally, the first thing he did when he returned to town from a trip was head to see her. Which was why he sat there at The Dollhouse, watching Dahlia’s last set of the evening.

She currently had hold of the strands of pearls lining the wall behind the stage, her ass thrust out, swaying from side to side. Fishnet stockings adorned her legs, giving a flash of skin between upper thigh and the sweet cheeks of her ass peeking from the ruffled boy-short bottoms she wore.

Leaning out, she twisted her body and turned, inserting herself between the wall and the pearls, covering her breasts.

A smile curved his lips at the coy, kittenish look she wore while she slowly slid to the stage into the splits. Quickly, she snatched up the tie she’d worn with the dress shirt and tuxedo pants already discarded and slid it over her breasts, arching into the silk material.

Goddamn, the woman was hot. Looking around, Nash saw the same mesmerized look on every male and many a female face he could see.

Turning back to her, he caught the look. The look that made his cock hard as granite. Lowered lashes and the bottom lip caught between her teeth. Only he’d seen it directed at him with genuine heat behind it. If she ever really figured out how much erotic power she had, she’d take over the world in a week.

Step, click, step, click, she headed up the stairs to the dressing rooms in very tall heels for a woman who’d just danced her ass off with athleticism and grace.

A look back over her shoulder as she put the tie on over her head, her bare back to the audience. A blown kiss and she was gone.

With a satisfied sigh he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Hell, he needed to smoke a cigarette, she was so good.

“How is she in bed?”

Cold water thrown over his very hot Dahlia fantasy, Nash opened his eyes to see Lara Warner, a woman he’d had a brief relationship with at the beginning of the year, standing over him. The elegance of her impeccable designer ensemble stood in direct contrast to the sneer she wore on her face.

“That’s none of your business, Lara. It’s also vulgar of you to ask.”

“Vulgar? Like fucking a stripper? For God’s sake, Nash, have some class. We all bring clients here for some entertainment, but these women aren’t for relationships. It’s all over town that you’re having a fling with this stripper. Don’t think she’s something special, Nash. And don’t forget what your place is. Or hers. She’s nothing special. Don’t let some cheap slut cloud your mind.”

He sighed. “I don’t owe you an explanation. My place, or, for that matter, anyone else’s, is none of your business.” Standing, he moved past her. “Have a nice night, Lara.”

He didn’t want Dahlia to hear any of Lara’s jealous bullshit. He knew it would hurt her. She was sensitive enough about that kind of thing. Not for the first time, Nash wondered what the story was. He knew Lara’s—ex-husband, a former business associate of Nash’s, was a philandering asshole. Clearly, Lara’s view of relationships had been skewed by that.

Frustrated, he walked back into the hallway where William’s office was.

The entrance to the dressing rooms was also at the end of the hall. He knew which one he preferred, but there were other women back there in various stages of undress, so he waited for her, sipping his drink, trying to let go of that nasty scene with Lara.

Ten minutes later she walked out, smiling as she caught sight of him. He’d been in L.A. for a few days and knowing she was happy to see him affected him.

Without a word, he opened the door to the back hallway of the club leading to the extra liquor and the other supplies. Catching the look in his eye, she opened her mouth to object but he shook his head and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her inside. Darkness fell upon them, cool and quiet as he shut the door.

His lips met hers as he swung her body to the wall behind them, his arm around her waist taking the impact. A soft sound of arousal left her lips and he swallowed it greedily.

His tongue hunted hers, possessing her mouth as his hands found the hem of her skirt, reversing and pulling it up, baring her thighs and the tiny G-string panties she wore. Pulling the material to the side, his fingers found her already slick.

Her hands tore at his belt, getting it undone along with the button and zipper of his trousers, freeing his cock as it spilled hot and ready into her grasp.

He let go of her long enough to roll on the condom he’d readied while he waited for her outside.

“Lift your leg over my hip and put my cock into your pussy,” he whispered into her ear and she whimpered with barely leashed desire.

An athletic thigh wrapped around his waist as she braced her back and guided him to her gate. Easing her body down, she took him into herself, slowly, so slowly.

Too slowly—he needed her right then.

Moving his hands to her waist, he flexed his hips upward and thrust into her to the hilt, filling her completely.

Fucking into her body, he found her ear again. “Anyone could walk in at any moment, Dahlia. Don’t make a sound. Or…would you like that, baby? If the bartender saw us, saw your pretty pussy bared with my cock deep inside it? Do you think he’d be hard afterward? Would he imagine you as he slid a fist around his cock later tonight? I bet he does anyway, after watching you onstage. I know I do.”

A strangled moan muffled in her throat as he smiled against her earlobe. His woman had an exhibitionistic streak—that much he knew from watching her onstage—but the idea of being caught really did it for her, too. He felt the heated silk of her honey as it nearly scalded his balls.

It made him want to push her boundaries to see just what else she liked. God knew he liked that the idea of being walked in on made her pussy cream. Loved the thrill of turning her on. He’d just done it because he could not last another moment without fucking her after seeing that last set. But now that he knew another thing that flipped her switch, he planned to keep it up.

“Finger your pussy for me, Dahlia. You know how much I love to feel you come around my cock.” He loved to watch her, to feel her make herself come for him. The contractions of her inner muscles usually pushed him right over the edge after her.

A soft sigh came from her as she moved her hand between them. He ground himself into her, adding to the friction she gave herself. Her breath gasped in his ear. He knew it wouldn’t be much longer for her and within moments her breathing hitched and a soft cry came from her as she began to come. With mindless pleasure buffeting him, he continued to hammer her body with his own.

In the darkness of the hallway he found his own pleasure as stars lit his eyelids and her name whispered from his lips. He set her down gently and kissed her. “You’re so amazing,” he murmured into her ear, loving the way his compliment made her lean into him a moment.

When she let him in that little bit, opening her heart as well as her body, it touched him deeply. True, they had amazing sexual chemistry and she was scorching hot in bed, but in some ways, she hesitated to fully embrace the whole of her sexuality.

As he’d gotten to know her over the past months, watched her react to things, learned her triggers and some of her vulnerabilities, Nash believed a big part of it was other people’s perceptions of her because of how she looked.

She seemed to struggle with her own power as an amazingly sensual and beautiful woman. That vulnerability was what enabled him to stay with her, push her to let him in. He didn’t walk away from her when she was prickly and difficult because she was worth staying for. The woman beneath her armor appealed to him on every level.

It should have frightened him, freaked him out. He’d always run from feeling deeply, kept himself with women he supposed he felt weren’t worthy of him. And he guessed that didn’t say much of what he thought he was worth, either. Instead, Dahlia Baker made him put in the time and effort because she was worth it and so was he.

Smiling, he turned back to her after he checked to make sure the outer hallway was clear.

* * *

Dahlia set herself to rights, smoothing her dress back down and finger-combing her hair as he gave a quick look to be sure no one was outside.

Her hands shook, her knees were rubbery. Nash Emery had just given her what was undoubtedly the hottest five minutes of her life. That bit about being caught had taken her by surprise, but his naughty words in her ear painting that vision had seared straight to her core.

He had a way of exposing her deepest desires and fantasies that was terribly alluring. But also frightening. Letting someone know her that well made her feel stripped. Stripped of pretense. Stripped of defenses. Naked and open. She’d have to let go of the way she’d believed things were, and that was a risk.

Blowing out her anxiety, she exited the room quickly when he gave her the all clear and they headed out the side door of the club and they walked through the casino.

Halfway out, Nash turned to her, pulling her body tightly against his own. She didn’t fail to notice the woman who’d just come out of The Dollhouse giving them a dirty look. Or Nash’s response, a raised eyebrow before giving his attention back to Dahlia.

Lara Warner. Dahlia tried to push the memories back, the memories of those six months she had worked for Bill Warner back when she’d been an undergrad. First, he’d been so helpful, mentoring her. But then he’d started to come on to her. It had been subtle at first, and because Dahlia had trusted him, she’d let it go further than it should have. She hadn’t done anything with him but she ignored it too long. The last straw was when he’d backed her into a corner in his office and stuck his hand up her skirt.

The ugly things he’d said to her after she’d shoved him away and told him off still rang in her ears from time to time. Those things had made it difficult to get another office job after that. Lara Warner had been only too gleeful to blame her husband’s behavior on Dahlia.

And since The Dollhouse was a magnet for the rich and fabulous, women like Lara Warner haunted it and Dahlia had been unable to avoid her.


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