Chapter One
Hale
Something is wrong. I’ve been working in my office for hours when the atmosphere shifts.
I own the only gym in Courage County. It’s typically filled with the sound of loud, boisterous laughter and friendly competition. But right now, no basketballs are bouncing on the floors. There are no grunts as my regulars trade punches in the ring.
Instead, there’s a new sound. It’s a slow, sensual beat. After a moment, I recognize it as a pop song from the radio. It’s not exactly the type of music that’s played here.
Frowning, I get up from my seat and move across the room to the big window. I flip a switch and watch as the blinds for the tinted window slowly rise. What I see next nearly makes me swallow my tongue.
For the first time in the gym’s history, there’s a steel pole in the middle of the floor and a woman dancing around it. She’s scantily clad and gyrating to the beat. As she works her body, she calls out instructions to her audience which consists of half a dozen other women. Most of them are also scantily clad, but one in particular catches my eye.
Ivy Jones.
She works at a shop in town called Sinful Desserts. It’s aptly named given the fact that every time I go in there, my thoughts are filthy images of the things I want to do to her curvy body.
Today, Ivy is wearing a sheer beach cover-up. It does nothing to hide the sea-green swimsuit that clings to her large breasts and keeps her pink pussy from my curious gaze.
Someone in the crowd hoots at the instructor’s dance, and I realize that other men can see her. Other men can see my beautiful virgin. My fingers curl into a fist and my heart pounds as the edges of my vision turn red. They’re seeing what’s mine.
Sure, Ivy doesn’t know she’s mine yet, but I can’t stand here knowing these fuckers are staring at my treasure. My sweet girl doesn’t even notice the way the men in the room are drooling over those delectable curves.
It takes every ounce of my self-control not to run over there and throw her over my shoulder. I’d storm back into my office and bend her over my desk. I’d spank her cute round cheeks until they’re pink, and she’s squirming for relief. Then I’d slide nine deep into her perfect wet channel. I’d make it so damn good for her.
Since doing that would probably alarm my girl, I settle on pressing the button on my desk and demanding Susie come to me immediately.
Susie is the community manager here at the gym. I found her sleeping in the women’s locker room this past winter. I gave her a job and got her set up with an apartment in town.
“What can I do?” Susie asks the moment she’s in my office. She’s always eager to please.
Normally, I like that about her. But today, I’m barely holding myself together. If Michael looks at Ivy one more time, his balls will end up on his wallet chain.
“Why the hell does it look like my gym has become a fucking strip joint?” I’ve never been one of those polished CEOs with the perfect words for every occasion.
Susie hesitates. “I mentioned last month that a citizen wanted to use the gym’s facilities for a class. This was the class.”
That sounds vaguely familiar. Still, it didn’t have to be held during lunch hour when every horny, single male in town is in attendance.
“Send them away,” I grit out the words as one man nudges Michael and the two of them exchange a hissed conversation and gesture toward Ivy’s tits. Those are just for me. No one else should get to appreciate them.
“It’s a pole dancing class. They promised they’ll keep their clothes on,” Susie protests.
“Not them. Get the men out of here. Right now.” Before I go and murder all of them for breathing the same air as my girl.
***
Ivy
I watch Mackenzie trying to do some type of move in her cute little stilettos, but she doesn’t execute it properly. Instead, my friend Ginger grabs her upper arm. Somehow, the two of them manage to stay upright, giggling the entire time.
I never thought I’d be taking a pole dancing class, but when Ginger wanted to create one, I showed up to support her. Both Mackenzie and I are here for her. The other women are here to get some exercise in or to impress their husbands.
“It’s your turn,” Mackenzie says to me. I’m the only one who hasn’t tried out these moves. It’s not that I’m afraid to. After all, the gym is now filled with only women.
Except for him.
Hale Evans.
He’s the owner of this gym. He kicked out all the other men not long after the class started.
But he’s still here.
Oh sure, most of the girls don’t realize it. That’s because the window for his office is tinted.
With anyone else, it would feel creepy. Not with Hale. Maybe because I know without even glancing at the window, that it’s me his eyes are on.
He comes into the dessert shop where I work. He always orders a vanilla ice cream cone and tips me an extra twenty. But the look he gives me when he’s in the shop makes me feel like there should be scorch marks on the ground. It heats my skin to a thousand degrees and leaves me with damp panties. It’s the same way I feel right now.
“I’m good to watch,” I say with my face flaming. Hopefully, the girls just think I’m embarrassed and shy.
Only Gabby knows about my crush on Hale. I’ve never shared it with anyone else because it would be too pathetic to admit out loud.
Hale is this cool entrepreneur who has been featured in all of these business magazines. He’s been known as the man with the Midas touch. When he invests, Wall Street sits up and takes notice. When he speaks, the world pauses to listen.
And me, I’m the girl who serves ice cream and has a million craft projects in her apartment.
“You should at least try,” Mackenzie says giving me a subtle gesture that indicates she wants to make Ginger happy.
The reminder is enough to snap me out of my funk. This isn’t about me protecting my pride in front of the hottest guy I know. This is about showing up to support my friend.
“It’s a lot of fun,” Laura adds quietly enough that the rest of the group can’t hear her.
Her husband is blind, but that won’t stop her from showing him her new moves. That’s what she told us earlier with a saucy wink.
Not for the first time, I wish I had someone to come home to. I wish I had someone to steal my blankets at night and leave his things scattered on the nightstand. I wish I had someone to wrap me in his arms when the thunderstorms are loud at night and whisper that I’m safe. As soon as I think these thoughts, another image of Hale comes to my mind. I’ve never been on a date or had a boyfriend. But if I did, I’d want him to be my first.
I glare at Ginger. “If I break my neck, you’re paying my hospital bills.”
Ginger beams at me. “Deal!”
I pull off my beach cover-up and wonder if Hale has binoculars in his office. A naughty part of me hopes that he does. My nipples pebble at the idea. If he’s going to watch, I’ll give him a show.
I run through Ginger’s routine, slowly relaxing to the rhythm of the song. Every move makes me feel empowered as I celebrate my body. I’ve never done something so erotic, and it turns me on to know that Hale is watching every sensual glide of my hips. I put my hands on my thick thighs and flip my long, blonde hair over my shoulder. Dancing for my crush is the hottest thing I’ve ever done, and I hope he’s enjoying the show.