Whipped) (14 page)

He loves me. That's the thought that keeps running through my mind. He loves me. And I love him. And we're in love. My hand strays to the silver puzzle piece on the delicate silver strand around my throat. The one that fits his. It makes me smile and feel warm and gooey inside.

I've turned into such a lovesick sap, and I couldn’t be happier.

But right now I have to stay focused, because these cock rings aren't going to sell themselves.

Zoe isn't here yet. Her shift starts in a few minutes, so I'm not worried. Today I'm opening and she's closing. It's most fun when our work time overlaps, though. That's when the giggles happen.

When a college-age couple comes in looking nervous but excited, I pull myself together, put away my phone—hey, I own the shop, I can sext my boyfriend when I want—and walk over to help them.

The girl can barely make eye contact with me. She's beautiful. Dark mocha skin, big eyes, long hair. Her boyfriend looks like the college nerdy guy who always steps up to the plate. He's sweet, gentle, and holding her hand in a way that makes me like him. A lot.

"Hi there," I say with a big smile. "Welcome to Whipped. Are you looking for anything in particular?"

The girl doesn't speak, which doesn't surprise me. The guy clears his throat and proceeds, reluctantly.

"Yeah," he says. "We wanted to try experimenting with… um… anal sex. But I don't want to hurt her. So, um…" He looks down at his sneakers. "I was—we were— thinking maybe we could try some of that cream that numbs?"

"It's great that you want to try something new," I say. "We don't actually sell that cream here, and I'll tell you why. There are some serious health risks to using that."

The girl's eyes widen and the guy squeezes her hand and says, "We don't want to do anything dangerous."

I smile. "That's good. And anal sex can be safe and very pleasurable, if done correctly. Keep in mind that it can take a few weeks or months to prepare a woman for full anal penetration."

I step to the side and pull an anal plug kit from the wall. "I recommend starting with these and a good lube. Start with the smallest and go up incrementally." I look at the girl. "As you're able to take bigger sizes, you'll become more comfortable. You can also do finger play during this time, which I'd recommend. Eventually you'll be ready to try a penis. But start slow and only do what you're comfortable with. Also, many women prefer using an enema before anal play. It's often more comfortable for both parties involved."

They nod in unison and I take the anal plugs, lube, and a useful brochure on anal sex and stick it in a bag. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

They both shake their heads. The guy pays in cash and they rush out of the store as if being chased, nearly crashing into Zoe as she comes in.

She looks at them and then at me. "Are you chasing our customers away again?" she teases.

"Ha, no. Anal sex is freaking them out. Honestly, I wish there was better education out there about healthy sexual options so people knew what they were doing without getting hurt. They wanted numbing cream."

She wrinkles her cute nose. "Hey, maybe we could start offering educational classes? It could be fun."

I nod and smile. "That's a great idea. Let's brainstorm some ideas today and see what we come up with."

She waggles her mismatched nails at me and grins. "Nope, not until you tell me what happened with you and Lach. You sounded positively giddy in your text last night. I want details!"

I show her the necklace and tell her about our
I love you
s and she squeals and dances around. "Oh-em-gee, I'm so happy for you! This is amazing! We should go out and celebrate tonight. Drinks?"

"Oh, I can't. I promised Lachlan I'd work out with him."

She grins in an expectant way, and then she frowns. "Oh, wait, you were serious?"

I place a hand on my hips. "Yes, I was serious."

She starts to laugh and I scowl at her. "What is so funny?"

"Just the thought of you…" she can't finish her sentence because she is almost out of breath, bent over our lube display in bouts of laughter. "You… working out… at an actual gym."

"Hey now, I resent that. I work out."

She wipes a tear from her eye. "Oh, really? When? When was the last time you worked out?"

I think about it and then snap my fingers. "With Kacie. I went running with Kacie!"

"Once. You went running
once
with her and it lasted about half a block. You got a cramp and swore you couldn't keep going and she had to practically carry you back."

"Who told you that?"

"You did, dork. God, I can't believe he's gotten you to agree to work out. I'm impressed. The man has skills outside the bedroom."

Okay, so maybe working out isn't my thing. Maybe I mostly keep my figure through healthy eating and good genes, but that's no reason to mock. Honestly. Some people.

She ribs me the rest of the day and I attempt to take it in stride. But as I grab my purse and my—
gulp
—gym bag, and get ready to leave, I'm suddenly nervous. What if I make an ass out of myself? Is this really the best way to kick off the 'I love you' phase of our relationship? Me next to all those hot, sexy, female gym rats who probably live to work out?

Oh God, what have I done?

***

When I arrive at Lach's gym, my nerves are anything but assuaged. It looks hardcore. The kind of gym you go to when you are fucking serious about working out. This is not the gym for newbies like me. Not at all.

But he's expecting me, so I put on my big girl panties and enter.

I'm immediately confronted by the smell of sweat and deodorant, and I remember why I eventually canceled my unused gym membership.

I check in at the front desk and give the teen behind the counter the day pass Lach gave me. "I'm a guest," I inform him, redundantly.

He nods. "Sure thing. I'm required to give you a tour of the facility and take down your information before you work out."

I groan. "Seriously? I'm just here to work out with my boyfriend. I don't want a tour."

He shrugs. "Sorry. It's the rules."

And I'm sure this kid has never broken any rule in his life. Yeah, right.

Warm hands reach around me from behind and pull me against a hard chest. Lachlan leans in to kiss my neck. "Hey, babe. Thought you'd bailed on me."

I twist in his arms to face him. "Never. But I gotta say, I'm not impressed. I don't want a sales pitch."

He looks up at the kid behind the counter. "Jimmy, she's with me. If Nick has a problem, have him call me."

I turn my head to smile at the guy. "Yeah, Jimmy. I'm with him."

Jimmy nods. "Sure thing, Mr. Pierce. I'm sure there won't be a problem, though."

Lachlan leads me by hand through the gym of sweaty people doing sweaty things. "I guess your celebrity status pays off," I say.

"All the time." He stops in front of the women's changing room. "I'll meet you out here and we can get started."

Fast-forward thirty minutes later and let's just say that there's a reason I don't dance on stage for hours every night. I'm a wuss with zero stamina. Everything hurts. I'm covered in sweat and am the least sexy I've ever been in my life. I'd better have a six-pack and thighs of fucking steel by morning or I'm suing.

Lachlan is telling me to do another set of pushups. I flip him off. "I'm done. I won't be able to walk tomorrow and that sacrifice will be for all the wrong reasons."

He laughs. "It can't be that bad. I went easy on you."

"Easy? You've killed every muscle in my body. Twice." Fucking reps.

"You have to break muscles down to build them up," he explains for the umpteenth time.

"That's the most fucked up logic I've ever heard. That's not true anywhere else in the known universe, so I'm skeptical it's true here. I think this is one big scam to steal money and sweat from people."

His mouth twitches. "You think gyms are trying to steal sweat?"

I wipe a drop of sweat from my forehead and nod. "Probably the government has found a secret way of powering the world with sweat, and the gyms are secret high-paid distributors of said sweat. It's all a big conspiracy, and I'm not playing into it. No sir!"

Lachlan is laughing hard now. "Oh God, Vi. I love you so much." He leans over and kisses me and all I taste is salt.

"I love you, too, but you're going to need to find a new workout partner. I can't do this."

He reaches for my hand and helps me off the mat. "There's one thing here I think you'll enjoy."

I follow him reluctantly. "If it involves flexing any muscles of any kind for any duration, then no, I won't."

He chuckles. "It doesn't."

Ten minutes later we're soaking in a hot tub and I'm leaning against his chest, his arms around me, a big smile on my face. "Okay, this is my kind of workout."

He kisses my sweaty head. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," I say, enjoying the feel of the heat penetrating my sore and tired muscles.

"Now that I've decided to stay despite losing my funding, I need to rethink my plans for the youth center, but I'm having a hard time. I've had such a particular vision in my head for so long, I can't imagine anything else."

I stroke his arm as I think about it. "It makes sense that it's hard to shift gears. Why not start from the basics? What do you, at the core, want out of this venture? What are you trying to accomplish?"

He's silent for a moment before speaking. "I want kids in this area to have a safe place to come after-school to study, learn, and dance. I want to teach those who are interested how to take their dance to the next level so they have a way out of their lives, should they need one."

"That's good," she says. "So what do you absolutely need to make that happen? Not what you want or think would be cool. But what do you really
need
?"

"A space. Primarily we need a space for the kids to come, for dance lessons to happen, for studying and after-school classes to take place. And I'd need at least a few people other than myself there to help run it and teach."

"So that's what you look for. Look for that space. Not the space in your head, but the space that will actually work. And then think of ways to generate funding for it. You've been looking for an investor or two. Have you considered letting the kids use their skills to raise the funds through a large group of interested people in the community? A fundraiser of some kind?"

Lach’s arms tighten around me. “A fundraiser…” he trails off. And for the first time since he lost his funding, I hear a smile in his voice as he starts talking about plans for the center.

I have an idea. A grand idea of helping kids and teaching dance. And the idea is great, but it's time to think smaller. Think about what I
really
need to accomplish. Marvin was right. I got stuck on one way of doing things. The Spacey Mall. Investors. I need to be open to other possibilities. The fundraiser is the first step.

Vi and I toss around ideas for how to organize it as we walk back to the car, our sweat-covered bodies glistening in the sun. "Kacie and Tate can invite some of their clients," she says.

I nod. "And we can make posters. I'm sure Kevin and his friends will help pass them out."

"I could hang some up in the store."

I raise an eyebrow. "Advertising a youth fundraiser alongside purple dildos?"

She shrugs. "Lots of my customers have kids."

We pass the closed-down building I noticed earlier. An old man with a long gray beard walks out the door, a brown box under his arm, and locks up. I've never seen anyone in the place. Makes me curious. "Excuse me. Is this your gym?"

The man grunts. "Used to be. Couldn't keep up with the rent. Not with that other gym across the block." He shakes his head. "Should have opened somewhere far away from competition."

Poor guy. I imagine having to close down the youth center. It would break me. "I'm sorry you had to close down."

He rubs his eyes and hiccups. "Yeah, me too. We had a nice family place, you know. A place where the kids could play while you and your honey got a workout in. Close to the schools. I'll miss it." Another hiccup. "Well, see ya." He grunts again and wanders down the street, wobbling side to side. I wonder if there's a bottle of whiskey in his box. I'd be drowning my sorrows too if my dreams collapsed.

I examine the closed gym. It's in nice condition. Looks spacious through the windows. The place must have been great.

And it could be again.

I spin on Vi, startling her. "I have an idea," I say, barely able to contain my excitement. "This could be the place. For the youth center."

Her eyes light up. "It's perfect. And if it's close to schools, that means a shorter drive for parents."

"Exactly." My mind runs with ideas. "I'll contact the schools, see if they're interested in the fundraiser."

"Yes, we can give them posters."

"Yes!"

Vi raises her hand and I high-five her, because you know, we're cool like that. We rush back home, shower, and get to work. Vi contacts Kacie and Tate and starts work on the posters, googling Photoshop tutorials. I call nearby schools, explaining the fundraiser. I manage to reach one of the principals, a woman with a high-pitched voice, and she sounds very interested. "We'll send forms home with the kids. I know a lot of parents who will love this." I thank her and move on to the next school on my list. Not everyone is as responsive. It's okay. I'm making progress, and it feels fantastic.

I contact the owner of the closed gym and talk price. He stutters through the whole conversation. I can tell he’s desperate to rent but trying not to show it. In the end, I offer to buy the building outright. "That's… that's a nice offer."

I chuckle. It's nothing compared to what the Spacey Mall would have cost. "You want it, or not?"

"I… um… yes… I want it. I want it."

"Good. Let's meet tomorrow and finalize the deal." We arrange a time to meet at the gym.

Vi glances at me, still sitting on the couch with her laptop. "That's pricey."

It is, which is why I've decided something else. I call my real estate agent, Lucy. "I want to pull out of escrow."

She pauses. "Let's meet and talk about it."

"Sure." I set a time for the next day, before my meeting with the gym owner.

Vi taps on her keyboard. "I thought you loved that house."

"I did, but I don't need it right now. The next house I buy, I want to buy with you."

Her cheeks flush happily and she continues making the poster. We work late into the night and fall asleep on the floor. The next day, I meet with Lucy at her office. Her assistant, a petite redhead, brings us tea. Lucy sits cross-legged on a couch, her short blond cut in an A-line. "So, what made you change your mind?"

I sip the tea. It's bitter and hot. "I'm simplifying. Focusing on what's important."

She fidgets with her fingers. "But you loved that house. You told me you dreamed of having one like it since you were a kid."

"I did. But I have other dreams now."

She sighs. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

I grin. "I make up for it in other ways."

She puts her tea down on the desk and flips through a folder. "You may have to pay fees."

"It's worth it."

She pinches her lips. "Anything I can say to change your mind?"

"Nope." I take another sip of tea. "But when I'm ready to buy, I hope you can be my agent."

That seems to put her at ease. "Of course." We conclude our business, and she starts making phone calls.

Next, I meet the owner at the gym and inspect the property. Some of the wallpaper is peeling, but otherwise it's in good shape. We barter on the price. I manage to save a grand based on the damages. The owner shakes my hand. "I'll send you the paperwork." He looks relieved the deal is almost over.

"Looking forward to it."

As the sun starts setting, I leave the gym, drop by a store, and drive to Kevin's. He's sitting on the sidewalk again, tossing his tennis ball. I hand him a new board, decorated in red and purple grunge art.

His hands shake as he takes it. "Dude, I said I didn't want a free board." By the excited look in his eyes, though, I can tell he doesn't really mean it.

"Good. Because I need your help."

His eyes stay on the board. "What do you need?"

"I'm putting on a fundraiser for the youth center. I need you and your friends to put on a show."

"You mean you need us to impress those suits?"

I grasp his shoulder. "Sure do. Think you can help me out, buddy?"

He finally looks away from the board and into my eyes. "No problem, Lach. I'll tell my friends. We'll make it happen."

"Thanks, dude." I pat him on the back, and we walk up the porch and into the house. Mary's sitting at the kitchen table, her face in her hands She leans her head back, noticing us. "Oh—hi, boys. Didn't hear you coming." Her eyes are red. She's been crying.

I sit down across from her. "What happened?"

"I just had a hard day, is all."

We don't talk of troubles. But when those troubles make my friend cry, I want to hear them. I want to help. "Mary, family doesn't knock. But you know what family does? Family helps each other."

She blows her nose into a napkin, then shakes her head rapidly. "You're right. So, I'll tell you. Bill fired me. Said a younger waitress would bring in more tips. Said I was too old." Her words turn into sobs. "I want to look younger, Lachlan. Why can't I look younger?"

I grab her hands and hold them gently. "You've had a hard life, Mary. I've known people who, in your position, would have lost themselves in a bottle years ago, would have given up on their kid. You haven't. Be proud of that. Be proud of who you are."

The sobs continue, but she smiles through them. "Thank you, my boy. Thank you."

I relax in my chair and grin. "Besides, I don't know what Bill's talking about. You're crying and you still look beautiful."

"Oh, shut it." Her cheeks grow redder. She may just be blushing. "Go on, now. I need to look up jobs tonight."

"I've got something," I say. "I've made progress on the center." And saved some money by pulling out of escrow. "Now I need a secretary."

She waves her hand dismissively. "I can't do that."

"Sure you can. Better than me, that's for sure."

She pauses and finally looks up from her hands. A small smile creeps in at the corners of her mouth. "Well, I suppose I can take the job." She tries to act casual, but I can see the hope flicker in her eyes and can tell this is a big deal for her. "Thank you, Lachlan."

I'll make sure she never has to wear high heels again.

Kevin groans in the corner. "Lach, you mean mom's gonna be at the center
every day?"

Mary and I chuckle. I say goodbye, promising to drop by soon to discuss the details of her new job. She grins excitedly, all pretenses gone in the face of this new opportunity.

On the way home, I drive by Bill's Burger. The open sign is flickering. I've had to keep my distance in the past, for Mary's sake.

Not any fucking more.

I park and jump out of the car, slamming the doors open as I enter the restaurant. A teenage couple sits in the corner. The place has a foul odor, like week-old meat. "Bill. Where the fuck are you, Bill?"

A man speedwalks out from the back, mustard stains on his red shirt, his eyebrows thick and bushy. "What the hell’s goin—"

I grab his hand, twist it behind his back, and slam him facedown into a table. "What's going on, Bill, is your epiphany. You're about to realize that it's time to start treating your employees with respect. You're about to realize that there's consequences for being a dickwad. You following, Bill?"

Bill’s breath hitches, and I can feel the fight deflate out of him. "Uh-huh."

"Good. So, I'm going to let you go, and you'll rise a changed man. A respectful man. And if you ever revert to your dark ways, I'll be back. And if you ever even
think
of reporting this…" I squeeze his shoulder until he yelps. "…Just remember how many heath codes this place has violated." I knock his head against the table one more time and let go. I stride out, glowing with pride. Man, today has been productive.

Shit's getting done, bitches.