This Girl Stripped by Dawn Robertson Read Free Book Online

behavior. It’s twelve steps forward and thirty backward. Just when I am starting to feel safe around him, like I can finally let a man back into my life, he pulls some shit like this. Is there something wrong with me? Am I too damaged for him?
    Whatever his problem is, I decide to drown it in a beer. The one beer turns into two, and then three. I don’t have much of a tolerance for alcohol because I never had the desire to drink. With each smooth swig of the beer, I feel a little better. The alcohol washes away his constant rejection. All the progress I make personally, he crushes over and over again. He may not realize it. I’m sure if he did, he may actually care, but I won’t let him see that he really has the power to hurt me. It would make me too vulnerable.
    I’m stuck inside my head to notice anyone else. Diesel walks around the corner and grabs a beer from the fridge and twists the cap off with his forearm. Because, of course, he’s such a big strong man. I’ve watched him from afar since Thanksgiving. He’s one of the more sensitive bikers that hang around here. I’ve seen him complete a thousand piece Hello Kitty puzzle with Magnolia, and cart the girls back and forth to school on a number of occasions.
    His short dark hair flops into his dark eyes and he pushes it out of the way. His fingers run through the silky chocolate colored strands and I sit and watch him while I nurse the bottle in front of me. He doesn’t notice my gaze as he moves through the kitchen before sitting down on the stool next to me.
    “What’s eatin’ ya, Princess?” His deep southern drawl sends a shiver through my body. You wouldn’t expect such a smooth voice to come from such a gruff man. I watch him for a minute, his lips caress the bottle and I can’t stop thinking about what they would feel like pressed up against mine. I shake my head trying to free the thought from my mind. Why would I even be thinking about something like that?
    I fucking hate bikers. I hate every last one of them. Maybe spending so much time here at Star’s has helped me to overcome my aversion for their type? Is this part of my journey to healing? Trusting my judgment and body again.
    It’s an internal battle. Every small sexual urge I feel, I constantly quash. I feel dirty when I think of these things. But, are they all bad? Can I live my life feeling as though I’m a bad person because of what one man did to me? Or can I work to reclaim my own body and soul - not be a victim to his madness anymore?
    One thing I know for sure is that I’m truly fucked up and the fact that I’ve had a couple beers isn’t helping me. Finally, moments later I answer him.
    “Men…” it’s simple, but Diesel is also a man of few words. The strong silent type. The kind of person who can express a rainbow of emotions with one simple look.
    “River is stupid,” he laughs. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him break a smile. But I can see all of his perfectly white teeth as he grins from ear-to-ear.
    “How’d ya know it was River?” I ask. I’m curious, because I think I’ve gone out of my way to truly hide my feelings for the short time I have been surrounded by my new gang of friends and family.
    “It’s the way you look at him, Princess.” The smile fades as he turns on the stool to face me. His rough, tattooed hand reaches up and for the first time since Zane attacked me, I don’t flinch at the touch of a man. His fingers push a strand of hair behind my ear, and his hand cups my chin. “He is stupid for not seeing how perfect you really are.”
    Before I have the chance to say anything, I can feel his lips gently push against mine. My mind is running wild, thinking about everything I should do or say, but I don’t push him away. Instead, I kiss him back. My lips part, and his tongue explores my mouth. I massage his pierced tongue with mine. We make out at the kitchen island for anyone to see. But not a soul interrupts us. My hands move up his arms