Heart of a Stripper by Cyndi Harris Page A

in magazines. Sure, she dreamed of living in something like that, but knew the odds of ever fulfilling that dream were slim to none.
    Walking over to one of the doors, she looked the windows and saw his square pool that could fit a whole party. There were huge beautiful black looking lanterns dangling from his ceiling. He was definitely doing well for only being twenty five.
    “It must be nice to live here.” she replied spinning around to him. He had watched her as she took in his things.
    “I guess.” He shrugged pulling off his soaked suit jacket.
    “You guess?” she asked wide eyed. “You’re loaded , and live in nearly every person’s dream!” she scoffed as he sat her down on the stool at the bar in the kitchen.
    “My father’s loaded. Do you really think I could afford this if I lived on my salary alone? I wouldn’t even be a principal without him.” he replied annoyed, raising an eyebrow at her.
    She could tell he was uncomfortable with talking about money. He grabbed a first aid kit from underneath the bar and walked back over to her. Opening it, he pulled out a few cotton swabs and dabbed her lip, cleaning the blood from it. Grabbing another cotton swab, he covered it with antiseptic before pressing hit back to her lip. She winched in pain and he grimaced before blowing it for her. The split on her lips was bad, but didn’t need any stiches.
    Sorry.” He replied looking down into her eyes as she carefully watched him.
    “At least he supports you.” She insisted, changing the subject as her teeth began to chatter.
    “Not exactly.” He insisted, putting the things away before pulling off his socks. “My father wants me to just like him, and since I’m not, he barely respects me.”
    “Sorry.” She chattered.
    “It’s fine.” He smiled fakely. “How about you take a nice warm shower, while I find you something to wear?”
    “I don’t want anything of your girlfriend’s.” she protested as he walked her upstairs.
    “Um, ok. I can see what else I have. You just go wash off.” He replied , showing her the guestroom she was staying in that had its own bathroom.
    Going into his room, he grabbed a long t-shirt of his, and sat it in the bed for her along with a towel. After that, he went back into his private bathroom and stripped before taking a shower himself. After getting dressed in his pajamas, he headed down the hall to her guestroom. She was sitting on the huge canopy bed, looking nervous. He knocked lightly on the door, even though it was already open.
    “You alright?” he asked walking into the room with her.
    She nodded, as she sat with her legs folded. He sat beside her on the bed and examined her bruises. He was sure she had probably done the same thing in the bathroom. He saw the bruises stretched alongside her neck, and disappeared somewhere on her back where the shirt covered her up.
    “You know you can watch a movie or listen to some music. While you’re here, this room belongs to you.” He smiled brushing her long black hair behind her ear.
    “I don’t want to intrude more than I already have.” She retorted, shaking her head.
    “What did I tell you about saying that to me? Do I need to tickle you?” he asked with half a smile.
    She snorted as she looked him in the eyes. He thought she was absolutely beautiful. Her hair was curly from being wet and she looked amazing in his boxers and t-shirt. Erasing the image would be impossible. All he wanted to do was crawl in bed and kiss her sorrows away, but he had to many morals for that. He didn’t want her to think he was preying on her in her vulnerable state. Especially since it was now obvious that she had “daddy issues”. It made sense why she went for older guys.
    “What am I five now?” she smiled breaking into his thoughts.
    “No, but that got me to see your gorgeous smile.” He insisted.
    “Well I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but this is nothing new to me.” She replied.
    Those words