Gym Bunny

After removing my heels, I start making dinner right away. Tonight, it’s rigatoni carbonara, made the Italian way with egg yolk, pancetta and plenty of fresh parsley, and a large glass of white wine. I need carbs and a wine buzz, because tonight I’m going dancing.

By eight I’m putting the finishing touches to my makeup, adding some big loose curls to my blonde hair and slipping into my black sparkly dress, no Spanx required. I want to move feely tonight, and if my curves get in the way of anyone else’s fun, then tough titties.

I meet the girls in the bar down the street and embrace my best friend, Cora. “Happy birthday, gorgeous girl!”

Cora squeals and hugs me back. “It’s so good to see you out again! You look amazing. You’re glowing.”

Cora saw me at my worst, when I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t function because of the way Piers destroyed me. I wave her off, embarrassed. She’s the one who deserves all the compliments tonight. It’s her birthday.

There are five of us pregaming and we have two cocktails each over the next hour. I’m not drunk, but I definitely feel a buzz as we walk down the street to the club. We queue for a little while, exchanging news and laughing our heads off.

Finally, we get inside. It’s just right, not too hot or packed, and the music is calling to me. I can’t keep still.

“There are so many hotties here tonight,” Cora says, gazing around the dancefloor with big eyes. “It’s as if a gym full of hot guys has walked in.”

She’s not wrong there. As I gaze around at all the muscles backs and biceps showing through dress shirts, I can’t help but think of Trey. I bet he’d look amazing dressed for a night out.

I shake that thought off quickly. I don’t need the double-barreled nightmare of a dom and a fitness freak. Someone who would change me because the way I live my life is wrong to him.

We all head toward the dancefloor, and the song changes to one of my favorites. I put my hands in the air and let out a whoop. The others join in and we’re all smiling at each other as we dance.

Everything’s perfect, and I’m going to dance all night.

Chapter Two

Trey

“Come on! Come and dance with us, Trey.” Amelia holds my hand and pleads with me over the pounding music.

I smile at her and shake my head. I don’t feel like dancing right now. I don’t know if I should have even come out. I’m still thinking about the blonde woman I encountered on the street earlier, the one who looked at me like I made her angry and scared at the same time. I wish I’d found out what that was about so I could have fixed it for her.

“You and Dom go. I’ll mind your drinks.”

The strawberry blonde, who’s also my boss’s girlfriend, pouts.

“Come on, peaches. Leave Trey alone.” Dom lifts her up in one arm carries her to the dance floor. I chuckle as I watch him deposit her among the dancers and put his arms around her. I’m smiling, but I’m still insanely jealous that Dom has a partner and I’ve been single so long I’ve forgotten what it feels like to say good girl.

At least I have Dom Fitness. I get to make all the exercise plans and meals plans I want and see that my trainees follow them. They even call me sir. Not daddy, though. I’m waiting for one special girl who’ll call me daddy. Someone who actually needs me and will fill that hollow space in my chest that’s like a physical ache. I’ll know it’s been filled as soon as the right girl snuggles into me.

As I sip my beer, I gaze around at the happy, smiling faces and dancing bodies. It’s been a good week at Dom Fitness. I’ve got three new clients, but the one I really want keeps slipping through my fingers. I see the blonde woman walking by me day after day, head held high, confidently strutting. She’s incredible. Today I actually got to talk to her, but the way she reacted I don’t think I’ll ever get to know her better. I remember the way her eyes flickered with mistrust as she looked at the flyer in my hand. That hurts because we’re not doing anything dangerous or cruel at the gym.

If she were my client, I’d be able to show her she has nothing to fear from our methods. I won’t push it, though, because it’s her choice whether she wants a gym trainer who’s also a BDSM dom, just without the whips and rope.

I just wish I could get her out of my head.

There’s something alert and inquisitive about her, like a bunny. She looks cute like a bunny, too. Someone good to cuddle.