Free HOOKED: An Erotic Romance by Vivie Rock

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER ONE
    I'm A Tough Nut
     
    ‘Of course I’ll come to a kickboxing class with you,’ I’d said to my best friend Rebecca last week, ‘anything to help a friend.’ Inside, though, I’d been dreading it.
    Don’t get me wrong. I’m a tough nut. I’m the boss of a successful company - we shift thousands of tons of letterhead and copier paper every week - we make over a million pounds profit a year. I manage a rowdy bunch of fifty-four employees, more men than women. And they all respect me. I’m a no-nonsense sort of boss, firm but fair. As long as you don’t cross me, I’m amiable enough.
    But… kickboxing? I’d never done anything like that in my life. In my teens, I’d been a dancer. Took part in local, and even national, ballet-dancing competitions. I’d have carried on with it if work hadn’t taken over. I’m a workaholic, see, and the long hours of overtime soon stopped me from continuing with evening activities. All I had time for was a quick trip to the gym twice a week, just to keep, at the bare minimum, in some sort of shape. I was naturally muscular anyway, so I was lucky - as Rebecca often reminded me.
    But yeah, I was short on free time, and didn’t do much other than work. It’s the reason I hadn’t had a boyfriend in over a year, too. I was in a relationship with my job, I guess.
    Rebecca, though, had been going through something of a crisis lately. Her bully of a boyfriend had dumped her, trading her in for a younger model, and Rebecca was doing all the things that spurned lovers do - getting her hair cut, getting a navel piercing, and taking up a martial arts class. I assumed that was what spurned lovers did, anyway. I’d never let myself fall for anyone enough to let myself be hurt by them.
    So I agreed to go to this kickboxing class with Rebecca, until she felt comfortable enough to go on her own. Then I could get back to my own life, having done a good deed for a friend. Hopefully, it would only take a couple of weeks for Rebecca to get her confidence back, and she’d be back to her fun and flirtatious self in no time.
    ‘The problem is,’ she told me, as we headed for the address on the kickboxing leaflet, ‘I just don’t trust men any more. You think you’ve found a nice one, and then they turn on you.’
    I nodded occasionally, letting Rebecca rant and release all that bitterness, knowing it would be good for her. Really though, I was only really half-listening. Instead, I was feeling a strange fluttering inside me. As I say, I’m a tough nut. I wasn’t used to feeling - what was this? Nervous? Yes, that’s how I was feeling now. It was like I was reliving my first day at school, wondering what everyone would be like, if I’d fit in, if I’d be able to keep up.
    I watched my legs striding forwards, long and tanned, in a pair of tight, white hot pants, and wondered if we were really dressed in the right gear for a martial arts class. My white low-cut sports bra and tight, pale pink vest felt provocative, all of a sudden. So taut around the bust, and out here, shivering a little, I could see my nipples poking through the fabric.
    Thank God we were going to an all-female class. I wasn’t here to impress anyone, so I wasn’t bothered about making a fool of myself, but I didn’t want the toxic combination of men and women in one small garage, exercising and getting sweaty together. Men had wandering eyes, and I suspected they came to the mixed classes for the wrong reasons. Like those pervy guys at the gym, lifting weights while they licked their lips, watching me on the running machine. I had good figure, I knew that. But it was mine. I wasn’t a display model for anyone else’s eyes to try out.
    ‘This must be it,’ said Rebecca, holding up the flyer and re-reading the address. The flyer, which Rebecca had been given at her work, looked pretty corny if I’m being honest. I’m surprised Rebecca had gone for it. The entire background was