What does the average stripper, or ex-stripper, look like?

If you think you’d be able to tell by the way a woman looks when she’s out buying groceries or working out at the gym, think again.

Right now, I'm wearing a beautiful white dress with an A-line cut, sweetheart neckline, and cute little cap sleeves. I'm willing to bet none of my guests would guess the bride used to dance for men in nothing but a tiny thong.

You may not realize it, but there’s probably a stripper or two in your life. If you know a dancer, chances are she has done exotic dancing at some point in her life.

It makes sense. It’s a lot easier to make it as a stripper than it is to become the next star in the American Ballet Theatre. The job pays really well, too, compared to other dance gigs—which, by the way, are pretty much non-existent.

The truth is, in the years I worked as a stripper, I had co-workers from all walks of life.

One, for example, was a married mother of a baby who liked that the nighttime work hours allowed her and her husband to take care of their child at home in shifts.

Of course, most of them were students who used the money from stripping to pay for their education. I know ex-strippers who are now lawyers, academics, and psychologists.

People seem to think that having worked as a stripper says something about your character, or your moral fiber.

Honestly, the truth is much more mundane: it’s a job. And, just like any job, some parts of it rock and other parts of it suck.

I don’t have any emotional hangups about having been a stripper. I don’t think it’s dirty or degrading.

Maybe I’d feel differently if I had also prostituted myself on the side. But I’ve never had sex for money—not that I judge the girls who do.

And that’s the real problem, at least for me personally: the judgment.

I don't even blame the people who judge me. They can't help it.

The human brain is meant for recognizing patterns. If you’ve had a bad experience with a stripper, or if your only experience is what you see on the media, then you’d paint all strippers with the same broad brush. It's only human.

I'm glad Jacob managed to hide my past. By doing that, he has given me the freedom to be myself. I used to squash certain parts of myself so I don't attract the attention of curious people, who’d inevitably find out who I used to be.

Now, knowing my past is safely hidden, I can be myself. I even changed my hair color back to my natural red. Everyone complimented me on it.

But the only person who sees and loves all versions of me is Jacob. When he gave me that ruby ring, I felt like he reached into my chest and touched my heart with his fingers. I felt like he saw the real me, like he knew me better than anyone else, like he really cared about me.

I peek out of the white tent to see the townspeople wandering the clearing by the lake, where Jacob proposed to me only a few months ago.

We decided on a quick engagement and a summer wedding. We invited everyone we know: Bertha, Tony and his whole family, Jacob's friend Matt, my students, my colleagues, and our neighbors—except for Christine, who’s still in jail. Jacob’s parents also flew in from Costa Rica and, to my relief, they like me.

I wonder how many Ashbourne residents have never been here before, and if we're going to see more visitors here. It would be annoying, having to share this special place with everybody else. I mean, where else are we supposed to go next time we forget to make restaurant reservations?

At the same time, I feel like this is another way for me to give back to the town that has given me so much, like sharing this place is my way of showing gratitude.

Both Jacob and I have so much gratitude for Ashbourne. Gratitude for taking us in, for being our home. We're lost, homeless people, Jacob and I, and we’ve finally found our place in the world.

“It's time,” Bertha says with a smile. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Outside, music starts to play. Some of my students who play instruments have eagerly agreed to being our band. I don't know much about music, but I think they sound just as good as professionals.

Bertha and I emerge from the tent with our arms linked together. She's the closest thing to a parent I have, and I didn't even think of having anyone else walk me down the aisle.

She's such a sweet woman. When she found out about what happened with Christine, she tearfully apologized for having shared the information.

I don't blame her at all; she was reeling from her daughter’s death and shocked from the knowledge that Nancy used to work as a stripper, so it was understandable that she felt the need to talk to someone about it. She just happened to have chosen the wrong person.

The wedding guests have risen from their chairs and turned around to look at us. At me. I meet their eyes, nod, and smile at them.

It's a little trick I learned to earn more tips when I was a stripper. It makes members of the audience feel like they're being noticed individually, instead of them just being random faces in the crowd.

As Bertha and I reach the aisle, string instruments playing in the background, I finally see Jacob. We both grin at each other, sharing a little private joke with only our eyes.

Jacob cleans up well. I’d never seen him in a suit before today, so I’m as excited to see him as he is to see me.

I'm glad Tony and Greg insisted on being in charge of “the makeover,” as they call it. They picked out a good suit and dragged Jacob, kicking and screaming, to their favorite tailor for alterations. They did a good job.

The slim, dark grey suit fits Jacob perfectly. I don't know if I can give Tony and Greg all the credit, because Jacob’s magnificent body would look good in rags.

He looks just as handsome as the day we met at the strip club, except there's a big smile on his face now instead of the perma-scowl he used to have all the time.

I think I make him a happier person, and that's a great feeling to have. He makes me happier too, and I can't be more sure that I want to freeze this moment in our relationship and stay this way forever.

As I take Jacob's hands in mine, I realize we won't always be happy. Life has its ups and downs after all. But I know having him beside me would only make things better, in good times and bad, in sickness and health.

We repeat the words the minister says, keeping our eyes glued together the whole time. There’s a big crowd watching us, but everything fades away in this moment. I'm not performing for an audience; I’m giving my favorite people a glimpse into my life, so they can see how happy Jacob makes me.

“I do,” Jacob says when the minister asks.

“I do,” I say when it's my turn.

“You may kiss the bride,” the minister says.

And right there, surrounded by the lake, the woods, and our closest friends, we share the most important kiss of our lives. This is the man I will kiss until death separates us. The only man. Jacob. My husband.

* * *

Thank you for reading!

Want more? Check out to read Caine Foster’s story.

His Virgin is also available in the , which contains SEVEN stand-alone (but related) romances and a bonus exclusive, never-before-published novelette, featuring the seven couples from the stories included in the box set:

• Guilty
• Stripped
• His Virgin
• Billionaire Protector
• Virgin Fiancée
• Single Dad’s Fake Bride
• The Billionaire’s Bride
• Bonus Novelette: After the Happily Ever After…

.

* * *

Get free bonus content, including a short story featuring Jessica and Jacob, by

As a member of the VIP Mailing List, you’ll also be the first one to know about new books, which are always priced at $0.99 for a limited time after the release.

Link doesn’t work? No problem. Copy and paste the following URL into your browser: