In Bed with the Beast (Naughty Princess Club 2)

With a huff, I storm over to her and snatch the jagged-edged, torn-out piece of glossy magazine paper from her hand.

“I’m not a serial killer, and I haven’t lived in my dad’s basement in weeks. I told you, these are my notes. I watched a documentary about stripping, and it said you need to be expressive with your eyes. So, I cut out all the eyes of women who had an expressive look in them, and I’ve been practicing in the mirror so I can emulate them.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize how ridiculous it sounds. Ariel is right. I can’t do this. What the hell was I thinking, volunteering to be the next one of us to strip at Charming’s? Not only did I tape up an entire wall of eyes in the dressing room, there’s also a wall of torsos, a wall of legs, and a wall of arms, all of the models posing and using those body parts in a sexy way that I’ve been practicing over and over, doing whatever I can to make sure I’m ready.

“What you need is a pep talk. Ariel, give her a pep talk,” Cindy urges, staring at Ariel with wide eyes and nodding her head in my direction.

“Uh, well, I’d call you a sexy minx, but that yellow taffeta gown is hideous.”

Cindy lets out a deep, frustrated sigh, muttering under her breath.

“You seriously suck at this.”

“Haven’t we already established that I’m not a motivational speaker?” Ariel asks. “At least what she has on underneath that horrible costume isn’t too shabby.”

I run my sweaty palms down the full skirt of the silky yellow princess costume I’m wearing, knowing it’s not exactly what one would call sexy. But Ariel is right. What I have on underneath this sweet and innocent gown is the moneymaker, as long as I can find the courage to rip this gown off so everyone out in the audience can see it. Especially one brooding, annoying man in particular.

I decided to forego the in-your-face sexy librarian thing and stick with the whole naughty-princess thing, just like Cindy did when she danced here. It is, after all, what we named our business, so I might as well stick with tradition, since it worked so well for her. Plus, it would be great advertising for us.

Under the dress, I’m wearing a teeny tiny pair of yellow satin underwear that barely covers my butt and has yellow bows on each hip, and a matching push-up bra. Both are embellished with white lace, rhinestones, and pearls, and there’s a silk red rose attached to one of the bra cups. It’s definitely the naughtiest outfit I’ve ever worn in my life. That thought makes my skin break out into a cold sweat as I stare down at my boobs, which are pushed so high up in this damn bra, I could rest a tea service on them. Or a book. I should have brought some of my books with me instead of only the one I’m going to use as a prop. Just running my hand over one of them would calm me down and make my heart stop trying to beat its way out of my chest.

“Belle, stop thinking about books,” Ariel orders, recognizing the faraway look I get in my eyes when I think about my favorite things in the world.

I quickly reach down into my cleavage and pull out a handful of notecards I stuck down in there, handing them over to Cindy.

“Here. Quiz me.”

Ariel reaches over and smacks them out of my hand before Cindy can grab them.

“Jesus Christ, you don’t need to study notecards to take your clothes off for money,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “How many times do we have to explain that real-life experience was all you needed to gain confidence and feel good about yourself? And you’ve had so much real-life experience these last few weeks, it exhausts me just thinking about it.”

“I had one disastrous date after another, and so much dry humping that I think I’m starting to chafe,” I remind her.

Just thinking about all of those dates my friends forced me to go on makes me shudder.

“EXPERIENCE!” Ariel shouts, throwing her hands up in the air with a flourish, sounding and looking just like Bill Nye the Science Guy when he bellows the word science.

Cindy shakes her head at Ariel and moves closer to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and giving me a squeeze.

“Sure, some of those excursions were a little . . . strange. But let’s not forget about your current living situation and the man who made that possible. As well as all the things he’s been doing to you lately.” Cindy winks and gives me a smile.

Holy Moses, the things he’s done to me . . . As much as I hate to admit it, my friends are right. Maybe those dates didn’t teach me about how a man’s mind works or being sexy and learning how to use my body to turn someone on, but he definitely did. Even if he’s left me hanging by not having sex with me more times than I can count, along with him calling me sweet and innocent back out in the club. All of this quickly turns my nerves into anger and frustration. Ariel’s right. I don’t need notecards, and I don’t need to study, but old habits die hard and my nerves got the best of me when I was taping up creepy eye pictures and shoving notecards into my cleavage.