Joy (Hell's Handlers MC 7)

Really, was she serious? She had to be kidding. As Steph walked by Jazz with the tray, Jazz grabbed two shots and swallowed them one after the other to the gasps of all the other women.

Guess she wasn’t kidding. Izzy chuckled.

“Told you, I’m serious. Now, drink. This isn’t a naked workout, but some of you prudes might need the liquid courage.”

“Guess Steph can skip them,” Toni said as she picked two shot glasses from the tray.

“Har, har,” Steph said. “For that, you get to do three.”

Toni’s eyes grew so wide, Izzy burst out laughing. “What about me? What the hell am I supposed to do?”

With a grin that had a chill running up Izzy’s spine, Jazz said, “We all know you want that baby out of you more than you want to save face, so you’ll be fine without the liquid courage.”

“Okay,” Holly said, a shot in each hand. “Now, I’m officially scared.”

“You should be.” Jazz winked at her friend. “Drink up, babe.”

Looking at the shot glass like it contained a cockroach instead of tequila, Holly did as commanded. Who knew Jazz wielded such an iron fist?

“You ever think about being a dominatrix, Jazmine?” Izzy asked.

She winked again. “Who says I’m not?”

The ‘ohhhs,’ and ‘get it girls’ went around the room faster than the shots.

“Shh, shh,” Jazz said as she laughed. “We all lubed up?”

Chloe hiccupped then covered her mouth with her hand. “Think I’m good.” The words came out muffled.

“All right, here we go.” Jazz hit play on the remote then backed up to join the rest of the group spread out around Shell’s basement. The large sectional sofa had been separated and shoved to the wall as had a coffee table. Aside from that, the room was empty, mostly used as a playroom for Beth.

The screen of Copper and Shell’s massive eighty-two-inch television lit up with the face of a prominent reality television star. One particularly known for the size of her rear. Suddenly, in neon purple letters, the words “Twerk Out” started flashing on the screen.

“Oh, fuck, no,” Izzy said as she started to back away from the group

Her new enemies all started laughing. Except for Chloe. “I’m with her,” Chloe said. She patted her ass. “This thing does not move separately from the rest of my body.”

Spinning around with her hands on her hips, Jazz shot a deep scowl Izzy’s way. “Do you or do you not want this baby to come out of you?”

“Uh, I do.”

“Then come up here, shut your trap, and shake your damn booty.” As she spoke, she wagged her finger in Izzy’s direction.

Shit. Who knew Little Miss Skinny had such a bossy side. “All right, all right. I’m coming. I’ll shake. Just don’t hurt me.”

The workout started pretty tame. Some stretches, lunges, squats, hip rolls and circles. All things to loosen up the hip area. Izzy struggled her way through it, ashamed of how far she’d fallen from fit. Returning to her pre-baby body would be a feat.

“Okay, this isn’t so bad,” Chloe said. “I’m down with this so far. Wait—uh oh. What’s she doing?”

“She’s just bouncing, Chlo. You got this, girl,” Toni said with a laugh.

The on-screen coach continued with her squats, instructing them to ‘get low’, but this time added a bounce at the bottom. Izzy snorted, she might never get back up if she went down that low. But what the fuck, if the activity got the spawn moving, it was well worth it.

So she squatted, as low as possible, which wasn’t very low, then bounced a bit before rising.

“Damn, Iz, how are you in better shape than I am when you’re forty-six months pregnant?” Holly asked with a distinct whine her in her voice.

“Seriously, this is actually a workout, isn’t it?” Shell asked.

“Down,” the instructor said. “Now, bounce, bounce, bounce.”

“Why the hell is she so perky?” Chloe grumbled.

Izzy bit her lip to keep from laughing. As ridiculous as this was, and even if it didn’t send her into labor, this night with the girls was exactly what she needed. Some fun to take her mind off swollen ankles, a sore back, and peeing way too often. The night also served to take their minds off the new MC and the worry they’d all been seeing on their men’s faces.

Ten minutes later, Izzy and her girls were all bent over, hands on the ground in a sort of downward dog position. With alcohol coursing through their veins, Izzy’s girlfriends no longer had any problems shaking their booties with gusto. They giggled and laughed, though their twerk game was seriously lacking.

“What the hell are you doing, Jazz?” Izzy asked as she looked under her armpit at her friend.

“Look, I wasn’t gifted with a round bubble butt, okay? I’m working it the best I can. You just worry about yourself over there, mommy.”