Whipped (Hitched #2)(2)

Her smile widens. "That's what I think too," she says. Then she cups her hand over her mouth and leans in, as if telling me a great secret. "I do think I shocked my Bridge Club when I told them I'd be coming here. But just watch, they'll be following in my footsteps soon enough, the old birds!"

I couldn't help but share in her laughter as she relaxed in the knowledge that she would get no judgment from me. She reached for a small vibrator—the Silver Bullet—and held it up. "Maybe this?"

I hold her eyes for a moment. "That's a good brand, and it works well. But…" I flick my eyes to the 14" beauty behind her. She turns and looks at it, her eyes widening as I point. "I think that's what you really want."

I can see her internal battle as she tries to decide if she should give in to her own cravings. I make it easier, taking both the bullet and the dildo and walking to the counter. "Tell you what," I propose, still smiling. "Get the dildo, and I'll throw in the vibrator as a gift. That way, if you don't like it, you'll still have something else to try."

She follows me to the register and stands opposite me, her purse already open, a secret smile on her lips. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to try."

I wink at her. "I promise, you won't regret it."

As she pays, I place her new toys in a bag with a few of our cards and hand it to her. "It's been nice talking with you. I threw in some coupons for your Bridge Club, should they be so inclined to follow in your steps."

I can still hear her laughing as she leaves the shop, the golden bell heralding her departure.

Zoe joins me at the register, a look of awe on her face, not for me, but for the woman who just left our store. "Mad props to her. I hope when I'm her age I'm still that adventurous."

I look down at my petite partner with affection. "I have no doubt you will be."

Zoe's phone beeps and she checks it, then types in a text as she bites her lower lip and furrows her carefully plucked brows.

"Boyfriend trouble again?" I ask, knowing the signs all too well.

She looks up, all the joy sucked from her expression by this one text. "He's on his 'no sex until marriage' kick again. His priest convinced him I'm causing him to sin so now he wants to sleep in separate rooms."

"It'll last three days at most," I say.

"I know. But in the meantime, it sucks. And not just the no sex. But the guilt, the pressure, the way he makes me feel like the whore of Babylon, even though he's the one who initiated our first time two years ago, and he's the one who asked me to move in with him. This man is just thoroughly confused."

"That's one word for it." My sarcasm is too thick to hide and she flinches.

"He's a good man. Kind, nice, respectful. He just has some religious hangups. No one's perfect." Her huge blue anime eyes look sad, and I put my arm around her shoulders and side hug her.

"I know he's not a bad guy. I just want you to be happy, in and out of the bedroom. A guy who has to shower immediately after sex each and every time isn't going to work long term for a girl who owns a sex toy shop. Especially since he's still never even been here and insists on telling people you work at the mall."

I drop my arm and she paces the shop, fixing displays that don't need fixing. "When you say it like that, it sounds awful."

That's because it is awful, but I've said enough. Zoe is the sweetest person you'll ever meet. Not a mean bone in her tiny body. I'm fiercely protective of her, but I often have to remind myself she's also a grown woman who can make her own choices. Even when it comes to Henry.

"What about you?" she says, oh-so-subtly dodging the conversation about her love life and instead focusing on mine. "It's been almost a year since your breakup with Chad. Any new men on the horizon?"

"Only the occasional sub I've hooked up with at the club," I say, as I now straighten merchandise that doesn't need straightening. "But nothing serious. I'm too focused on our business to think about that right now." I had the perfect guy in Chad: smart, sexy, charming, talented, a committed submissive who enjoyed my Dominatrix side… but once I got everything I always thought I wanted, it didn't work. And I haven't been ready for a new commitment since.

When the bell rings, signaling another customer, we both turn with smiles which turn to adolescent giggles when we see who it is. "He’s back!" Zoe says.

He is indeed, in all his ripped glory. The man in question struts through our store with a new blonde on his arm. He's dressed in jeans that hang at his hips 'in just that way,' to lamely quote every romance novel ever written. And that's all he wears. Seriously, dude never has a f*cking shirt on. Not once, and he's come in at least once a week since we opened. Always with a different girl, always with the jeans and no shirt, always with the cash—and always with the sexy.

Oh, and did I mention he's Australian? Because he is. Not that it matters. I can't stand the guy. I don't care that his abs are made of steel or that he looks like he's hung like a horse. I blithely ignore his deep tan, perfect white teeth and eyes the shade of the bluest ocean. I won't even think about his bed-head hair that's always that flawless mess of dark blond that looks like he's been running his hands through it.