Read Strip You Bare for Free Online Page B

at the moment he didn’t even want to fight against it.
    Sarah stumbled backward, and this time the street had bite. Her heel sank deep into one of the cracks and Micah lurched forward, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her up against him.
    She gasped, pressing her breasts tightly against his chest.
    He spread his hand wide, relishing the feel of the soft material of her clothes beneath his palm. That was one thing he liked about rich girls. Soft all over. He moved his hands down, over the curve of her ass, cupping her, pressing her harder against him, harder against his dick.
    Then she gasped—gasped like an offended virgin—and wiggled away from him, her dark eyes wide.
    “Would it be possible for us to finish the day without further manhandling?”
    “I don’t know, that’s up to you, sweetheart.”
    “I didn’t choose to be manhandled. Don’t act like I had any say in it.”
    “You’re going to walk into a tiger’s cage and act surprised when you find out he wants to eat you? I think you’re smarter than that, Sarah.”
    “And I thought you were . . .”
    “Civilized? Decent? Again, you aren’t paying attention to a thing I’ve said to you. I’m neither of those things.”
    She snorted and turned away. “What’s with the suit?” She continued walking, and he continued on after her. But now, it wasn’t the thick New Orleans air making the biggest impression on his body. It was the press of hers, the lingering impression of those lush, firm breasts against his chest.
    “I’m a businessman.”
    “You count beans in your little den of iniquity?”
    “Den of iniquity? I haven’t heard anything quite that prissy since my grandmother. Though, now that you mention it, it is a little bit dark in the Priory. Iniquities do occur.”
    “You didn’t answer my question.”
    “Because I don’t have to. Although, if you’re really curious, I’m a businessman.”
    “Then what are you doing here ground pounding for a motorcycle club? And putting your hands all over me in broad daylight?”
    “Easy. I put my hands all over you because I wanted to. I’m back here because I have a debt to pay to the Deacons. You’re never really clear once you’re a full patch member. Not really. I have the ink on my back to prove that. But once I’m done here, I can go back home.”
    “I see,” she said, her tone cutting. “And where is it you call home? A badger den?”
    “San Francisco.”
    She laughed. “Well, now that surprises me. Shouldn’t you be wearing man sandals and something made of hemp?”
    “If so, I missed the welcome package upon arrival.”
    She stopped in front of the shop with the NoLa Royale emblazoned on the sign, then breezed inside without waiting for him. He crossed his arms over his chest and followed her in, the little bell above the door that signaled their entry sending a current of annoyance down his spine.
    “Good morning, Ms. Delacroix.” The round, gray-haired proprietor smiled at Sarah, his red face getting even redder as he rounded the counter and extended his hand, taking hers and dropping a kiss on the back of it. “How you been, baby?”
    “Just fine, David,” she said, warmth in her tone he had never yet heard when she’d spoken to him.
    “Is there something I can help you with today?”
    “I want to buy Christmas tree decorations,” she said.
    “I see. Well, I have those. Who’s your friend?” He eyeballed Micah with no small amount of suspicion. As if Micah was going to grab the nearest wooden mime and wield it like a crowbar, destroying all of the worthless knickknacks that were placed floor-to-ceiling in the place.
    It was an obsessive-compulsive’s nightmare. Pirate-themed items draped in Mardi Gras beads next to sugar skulls and mermaids. All clashing colors blending together so that you could barely distinguish between all the fussy little items. Too much glitter, too many rhinestones.
    New Orleans, contained inside one small