She pauses for a moment, and I know she’s debating whether to call me on the fact that work is sex and that I’m technically still using sex to feel better, just doing it for a paycheck instead of personal gratification. Thankfully, she doesn’t make a beeline for that topic, and instead she says, “It sounds like you’ve done some reflecting in the past twenty-four hours.”
“I have, indeed.” I smile. “And I have another brilliant little plan too.”
“Yes?”
“I want you to come visit me,” I say. “I want to show you around. You can meet some of my friends, see my apartment. My bed is big enough for two, so…you know, if you felt like it, maybe you could let me cuddle with you again.”
“Oh, shut up,” she says. “You already know that I totally want that, so don’t even pretend like you’re being coy!”
I laugh hard, and I appreciate that she can see through me so easily.
“I’m down,” she says. “I really want to see your place.”
“End of summer? Maybe Labor Day?” I propose.
“Yes!” she gleefully replies.
“Good,” I sigh. “Because I can’t wait all the way until Thanksgiving or Christmas break to see you. I’ll go fuckin’ crazy by then.”
That gets another adorable giggle, and I can feel my lips pulling into a proud smile. I’ve always liked making her laugh, and this particular cute, sexy, playful little giggle is my favorite variety of Lola laughter.
We talk about school, and she tells me she’s excited for college, but that she’ll hate being so far away. I assure her that a plane ride is a plane ride, and no matter how many hours, I will make sure we still see each other regularly.
I’m feeling better about our situation by the time we hang up. The good thing about talking to her on the phone is that I don’t get distracted by her beauty. I can focus on the aspects of Lola that I love the most: the humor, the sweetness, the sass, the total openness and honesty we share. If I can just block out how hot she is and keep all those amazing personality traits at the forefront of my mind, I think I can move back into that “just friends” space and stop seeing her as a girl I really, really want to have sex with. It’s not going to be easy, but I’m up for the challenge.
Chapter 18
Lola
I’M ON HOUR THREE of my shift at Garth Fitness Center, our local gym, and I wish the computer behind the check-in desk allowed access to Tumblr, because I’d much rather be doing that than sitting here, hoping no more sketchy dudes come up to me. I only took this job because I needed to earn a little income this summer—hopefully at least a thousand bucks—so I’ll have some money for living expenses once I get to college. I applied at the gym, and they hired me on the spot. That was about a month ago, and I learned the (incredibly boring) ropes very quickly. A lot of our older male patrons seem keen on shamelessly flirting with me while not-so-subtly flexing their biceps as they chat me up.
Brad, who is one of the trainers, comes up to me with his usual high-energy greeting. He’s sweet, but he’s also one of those meathead guys who will talk about reps and super-sets until he’s blue in the face.
“How you doing, Lola?” He’s got that hyped-up bounce to him, like his blood is made of Red Bull.
“Great. How about you?” I reply.
“Really great,” he says, nodding. “Waiting for a client. She’s been really happy with her plan. She was telling me how she wants to focus on her glutes now that she and her husband are separated. She’s already rockin’ a nice bikini bod, and she just wants to firm up some more.”
“Oh…well, that’s good.” I smile, not really having a response.
“You been hitting the StairMaster? Your glutes are looking great,” he comments, giving my butt a once-over.
“Thanks.” I laugh and shake my head. Brad isn’t doing this to hit on me; he’s doing this to assess the muscle groups I need to build up to have an official Body By Brad—his personal slogan.
For some reason, big, buff dudes take a shine to me. Brad has been stopping by the counter to talk to me quite regularly since I started here about a month ago, and he’s even offered me a referral bonus for anyone I convince to try out his personal training services. I can deal with guys like this, guys who don’t have ulterior motives and who are just generally psyched about their bodies and their jobs. It reminds me a lot of another strapping young man I know.
I’ve been thinking about James a lot lately, and I’ve come to the conclusion that “just friends” is the best place for us to be. I still talk to him on the phone every day, and we’ve even planned out the dates for my visit, but time has helped me become less smitten with him and more able to see the big picture. James is lovely, a truly wonderful person, but a romantic relationship is out of the question. It would fuck things up between us, and I know monogamy would put an enormous strain on him, so why put either of us through that?
Brad’s client arrives, and she looks ready and raring to go. He enthusiastically leads her into the gym after I check her in, and I’m left back at the desk with a wandering mind and no fucking Tumblr.
The door opens, and a familiar face greets me with a smile. Dave Keegan approaches me in cargo shorts and a polo shirt and nervously drums his fingers on the desk when he reaches me.
“Something I can help you with, Keegan?” I smile back at him.
“I want to get a membership,” he says.
“Dude, your family has a country club membership. Why don’t you just work out there?” I smirk.
“Do you get a commission if you sign me up?”
“Yeah.”
“Then sign me up.”
“Keegan, what are you doing?” I chuckle and shake my head. I’m onto you, dude.
“I’m interested in a gym membership, and I’ve heard this place is really great.” He grins and leans over the counter flirtatiously.
“If you’re doing this because you think it will make me go out with you, you’re sorely mistaken,” I tease.
“I know,” he laughs. “You think I’d want to unleash James’s fury? He’d rip my fucking arms off if I even touched you.”
I snicker, but I nod my head.
“I just want to make sure I keep an eye on you, and this gives me an excuse to do it.”
“Keep an eye on me?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Yeah.” He nods. “Just see how you were doing, how your summer is going, stuff like that.”
“Is this some kind of directive from headquarters? Is he enlisting you to do this?” I ask, putting my hands on my hips.
“No, no.” He smiles and blushes a little. “Just something I wanted to do.”
“What are you hoping to get out of this, Keegan?” I narrow my eyes at him.
He laughs at my suspicion. “I just thought this would be a good way to hang out with you. It must be boring, and if I have a membership, I could hang out up here like I’m asking you questions.”
“And you’re fully aware that this will not make me suddenly drop my panties for you?”
“Do you even have panties on under those tight shorts?” he jokes.
I reach over the counter and give him a playful smack on the shoulder as he laughs.
“Oh! Hitting the customers, are we?” He grins, grabbing his arm and pretending to wince like it’s a major injury.
As I’m giving him a playful I-want-to-kick-your-ass look, the door opens again and another one of my regular, seedy “admirers” walks in.
His name is Keith, and he’s in his late forties with poorly dyed hair that looks like a toupee. I’ve nicknamed him Uncle Rico after the character in Napoleon Dynamite, though this guy is far creepier. I think he knows what days I work because nobody else has seen him as frequently as I seem to. He’s made a point to tell me that he’s divorced and that he’s “young at heart” and enjoys doing “youthful” things—which, apparently includes youthful girls. It’s very mid-life-crisis, and I want to inform him that I was in high school up until about a mon
th ago.
Keegan observes as Keith strolls over to the desk and checks me out. His lingering eyes make me start to question our uniform choices of tight T-shirts or running tank tops paired with volleyball shorts. To be fair, the guys dress in equally form-fitting attire, all in an effort to show off their fit bodies. I’m not fit. Aside from yoga, I hardly ever work out, and with the exception of my annoyingly large boobs, I’m naturally scrawny. But James has inspired me, and I’ve been forcing myself to hit the treadmill after work on occasion. Unfortunately this is the kind of attention I was hoping not to attract with my new physique.
“Hey there, sweetheart.” Keith grins salaciously. “You look lovely today.”
“Thanks, Keith,” I say with a strained smile.
“I like that tank top,” he says, using this as an excuse to stare directly at my tits.
“It’s new,” I reply, trying to contain the urge to tell him to go fuck himself. Don’t think that would score me points with the boss.
Keegan narrows his eyes at Keith just like James would do, and I have to admit that I appreciate it.
“So, gorgeous, how have you been today?” he asks me.
“I’ve been okay.” I smile falsely. “It’s been a long day, but good.”
“Well, you’re off work in an hour, right?” he says, confirming my suspicion that he’s way too familiar with my schedule. “I’d love to get you a nice meal, get you off your feet for a while.”
“Yeah, but I, um, I have some stuff to do and—”
“Baby, I thought we were going to that movie tonight,” Keegan interrupts, giving me a wink.
“Yeah, yes, uh-huh.” I nod, smiling in appreciation of his save.
Of course, I start wanting to smack him again when he comes around the desk and puts his arms around me, kissing the side of my head as he lowers his hands onto my ass.
“I’ve got a nice dinner planned for us, and after the movie we can go back to my place,” he says in the most ridiculously overplayed seductive tone I’ve ever heard.
“That’ll be nice,” I say, looking up into his eyes and trying to subtly signal that I will kick his ass if he attempts to take this any further.
“Well, I’m all checked in then,” Keith says, realizing his presence is no longer wanted.
“Enjoy your workout.” I smile and give him a little wave.
Keegan, that sneaky little shit, pulls me into him and kisses me. I close my eyes to hide how hard I’m rolling them, but I dig my nails into his arm as hard as I can.
Keith walks off to the locker room, and Keegan lets me go.
“You little fucker!” I say, playfully punching him in the chest.
He’s cracking up and trying to block my swats.
“Don’t you ever pull shit like that again!” I blush and giggle.
“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” His stupid grin says he’s still incredibly amused.
I furrow my brow and give him a bunch of tiny punches in the arm as he holds his stomach with laughter.
“That was my one opportunity to do that, so don’t hate,” he says still chuckling. “I seized the moment and went for it. I’m committing it to memory as we speak.”
“Get me out of your fap file, Keegan!” I tease. “I heard all about your nasty fantasies of me, and I would like to be removed from the cast list right now!”
That only makes him laugh harder, which only makes me want to smack him more.
“The next time you attempt to kiss me, I will slap the shit out of you,” I warn, though my giggles make it a lot less stern than I’d hoped for.
“I was looking out for you, that’s all,” he says. “I was being protective. I was doing it in James’s honor. He’s my friend, and he would have wanted me to play bouncer for you with that dude.”
“James wouldn’t want you to fucking kiss me!”
“I committed to the role, Lola,” Keegan jokes.
“Fucker!” I shake my head at him as I blush.
“So can we actually go to a movie tonight?” he says with a smart-ass grin.
“Keegan, I will slice your dick off with the yoga sign-up clipboard!” I declare.
He laughs hysterically again and then raises his hands in surrender. “Will you still sell me a membership, though?”
I pause, take a deep breath and reach into the drawer for the blank cards. “Fine,” I reply with exasperation.
He cracks up again, probably reveling in his small achievement as I prepare his registration.
While I might want to kick him in the balls for this little stunt, I know that Keegan is a good guy and his intentions really are to keep an eye on me—even if that also includes keeping an eye on my boobs or my ass. I think that, with James out of town and me nearly on my way to college, he feels some sort of responsibility to take on the role of protector James used to have. The last fucking thing I need is two guys putting up a border fence around me, but I can’t say that I don’t owe him one for deterring Keith just now. Keegan knows he will forever be in the friend zone with me, so I doubt he’ll take this all in a creepy direction.
I sign him up for a membership, and he gives me a sweet smile.
“Thanks for earlier, I guess,” I reluctantly mutter.
“My pleasure,” he says, grinning.
I sigh and shake my head as he walks out the door.
Chapter 19
James
I’M STILL OUT OF BREATH as I put on a bathrobe and grab a bottle of water from the snack table. I’ve just finished my last shot in Naughty Nymphos—literally just finished—and I’m still sweaty and coated in the sweet smell of Natalie Monroe, a gorgeous, voluptuous blond starlet.
Work has been a blast these past couple months. I’ve managed to check my whole Lola thing, and I’ve set my sights on raising my game. It’s completely paid off, too, because I’ve had about eight shoots this month alone, and my bank account would be considered morbidly obese if it were a person. Yesterday I made three grand for four hours’ work.
I’m just getting ready to go clean off when Rick comes up to me. He’s short, stocky, and has dyed black hair that he wears slicked back like a mobster, but he’s got a big smile on his face and an envelope in his hand.
“Kid! You were great in there today,” he says in his raspy smoker’s voice as he pats my shoulder. “I got your check right here,” he adds, handing it to me.
“Thanks,” I reply, returning his smile.
“I’ve never seen a performer last that long,” he continues, “and definitely not with a girl like Natalie sucking your dick.”
I chuckle. That kind of compliment would sound so weird to someone outside of our business.
“Shit like that it exactly what will make you a superstar.” He smiles, and I can see the dollar signs in his eyes. “And on that note, I wanted to talk to you.”
“Okay.” I nod, urging him to go on.
“We’re building up a new division, a different genre, you might say,” he begins. “It’s gonna be very lucrative.”
“And what ‘genre’ is that?” I ask suspiciously.
“It’s a little less glossy than what you’ve been doing,” he says, cautiously approaching the topic.
“Come on, spit it out,” I say, laughing.
“We’re looking to expand our S&M selection,” he replies, finally getting to the point. “People want BDSM now, and they’re willing to pay for it. I’ve seen how you are with these girls: you’re an alpha dog in there, kid. I think you’d be great.”
I nod, recalling some of the bondage videos Sin Cinema has produced in the past.
“You okay with getting rough with the girls?” he inquires, clearly hoping I’ll respond with a resounding yes.
“How rough?” I ask with uncertainty.
“You know, manhandling them a little bit, spanking them, tying them up, shit like that,” he says.
I think back to Becky Callahan, one of the girls I was with in high school. She loved it rough, and she was into being ti
ed up and spanked. Hell, I remember one time when she asked me to write “filthy whore” in Sharpie across her ass before I took her through the backdoor. She was wild, and not just for a normal girl. I know industry girls who would blush at some of the shit that girl asked me to do to her.
“Am I going to know how rough to be?” I ask Rick. “I definitely don’t want to hurt anybody.”
“Of course, kid.” He smiles, putting his hand on my shoulder reassuringly. “Everybody will go over their limits first, you’ll have a list of things that are okay to do, and if anything gets too intense, there’s always a safeword that will stop the scene.”
Becky and I had a safeword, though she never used it. I remember thinking she was going to once when I spanked her with a hairbrush, but she moaned for me to do it harder, and I had to tell her that I was worried it would leave a big welt. That was something that always freaked me out a little bit, seeing her ass turn bright red when I spanked her. One time she had a bruise on her right butt cheek, and I refused to spank her again for a week because I was terrified that I had really hurt her.
“Seriously, Rick, I want to make sure I don’t actually hurt anybody,” I say, recalling the momentary pit in my stomach when I saw the bruise on Becky’s ass. “I’m cool with going all dominant on these girls, but injuries and rape fantasies are definitely not my thing.”
“Understood,” he replies. “I respect your concern for their well-being, kid. That’s the kind of shit that’s made you so in-demand. Our female subscribership has tripled since you started with us. You’re a fuckin’ legend on the Internet because they say you always make your co-stars come.”
“That’s true.” My resulting smirk is just a little bit cocky.
Vice, Virtue & Video: Revealed (The Vice, Virtue & Video Series) Page 18