by Brianna Hale
Brianna Hale
Livia’s back on her feet after a toxic dom/sub relationship that left her self-esteem in tatters. Now, Dom Fitness has opened on her street, reminding her of every terrible thing her ex made her believe about herself.
A place like Dom Fitness is dangerous, and especially dangerous is the gorgeous personal trainer Trey with his entrancing green eyes and luscious muscles.
Trey loves his job as a trainer at Dom Fitness, but he’s a daddy without a bunny and it hurts his heart. After meeting Livia, he can’t get the curvy blonde out of his head. The trouble is, Livia doesn’t trust any man who wants to tell her what to do, let alone change her body.
But Trey thinks Livia is perfect as she is. He just wants to make her sweat, inside the gym and out.
Even if he has to break every rule at Dom Fitness to make Livia his.
GYM BUNNY by BRIANNA HALE
Copyright © 2021 Brianna Hale
| All Rights Reserved |
Cover design by Maria @ Steamy Reads
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, except brief quotations for reviews. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
This book is a work of fiction. All characters, places, incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any similarities between persons living or dead are purely coincidental.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Epilogue
Chapter One
Livia
He’s here again. The huge, muscled cutie with the pumped-up shoulders and even bigger smile. He’s wearing a black tank top with the word TREY emblazoned on the front in bold white letters. His vivid green eyes glow with health and intoxicating sex-appeal as he hands out flyers to passers-by and answers their questions with a flirty smile. Every time I pass this spot, there are a dozen women staring at him, talking to him, or fawning over him.
At any other time, I might be fawning as well, but Trey McHandsome is standing out in front of Dom Fitness, the gym that’s recently opened up on my street. The premises are sleek and sophisticated, and healthy, happy people bounce in and out in brightly colored Lycra. The front window is emblazoned with one of their slogans: Just Say Yes (Sir).
My stomach twists with panic. Sir. That’s what Piers made me call him while he was telling me I’d never amount to anything. I can still hear his voice snarling in my ears.
You can’t even lose two pounds. You’re hopeless with no self-control. It’s disgusting. Say, I’m disgusting, sir.
I breathe in sharply, and glare at Dom Fitness, as if it being there is all Piers’ doing. I have to pass this way every day on my way to and from work. I never liked gyms, and one run by BDSM dominants sounds like a nightmare.
I’ll just have to ignore it, and I focus straight ahead walk faster. My stiletto heels click on the sidewalk, and I like the way they sound and make me feel. Bigger girls can enjoy wearing high heels, too. I’ve given myself permission to feel good about myself.
Muscly McHandsomeface steps right into my path and turns his one-hundred-watt smile right on me. He’s about thirty, just two or three years older than me. The expanse of his chest is just the right height for me to rest my cheek against. I bet he smells like really good aftershave and a deep, dark masculine scent that’s all his.
Goddammit, Livia. Stop imagining what he smells like. He’s a trap. A big, gorgeous trap.
“Hey,” says the six-foot-three Adonis with the thick, brown hair. “Have you got a moment to talk about your fitness goals?”
I stare right at his chest rather than risk looking at his gorgeous face. His broad, snuggle-me chest.
Goddammit.
The flyer he’s holding out to me reads Dom Fitness: Because we said so. It’s just the sort of overbearing nonsense I’d expect from a dom.
I glare up at Trey. “Not in a million years.”
His gorgeous smile drops from his face. “Sure. No problem.” He steps aside to let me pass.
I hesitate. I didn’t mean to be rude, but I’m used to doms who don’t listen. Doms who don’t talk no for an answer.
My hesitation is a mistake, because Trey smiles gently and says, “If you’re uncertain about what we do here, maybe I could answer any questions you have. I know we’re kind of kooky and kinky sounding, but we’re not.” He grins. “Okay, we are kinky, but it’s non-contact kink. We offer your first session for free if you’d like to try us out.”
“Why? Because I need to exercise so badly?” Go on. I dare you to call me fat. I’m four sizes bigger than my ‘normal’ weight sister, but I happen to think that I look good. I’ve shed blood, sweat and tears to claw my way back to a happy mindset. I’m not letting anyone screw with it, no matter how angular his jaw is.
Trey just watches me with those luminous green eyes. “My job is to make you feel good on the inside so that it shows on the outside.”
His easy smile is back, and despite my fuming anger, I feel my belly flip-flop. No wonder they stick Trey out here. The handsome face of abuse, exploitation and emotional manipulation.
“Dom Fitness is for everyone,” he continues. “If you’re interested, come talk to me, or ask for me on reception. My name’s Trey.”
“Yeah, I know,” I mutter, looking at his name emblazoned on his chest.
He drops his gaze to the tank top, and then up at me again, smiling disarmingly. “Oh, yeah. I forget I’m wearing this sometimes. Have a good weekend, okay?”
I move to my left just as he moves to his right. We both step back the other way at the same time, and I wonder if he’s blocking me on purpose or if I’m being paranoid. Finally, Trey holds up his hands in mock surrender and I move around him and walk as fast as I can to my front door.
I take off my denim jacket and throw my purse onto the table as soon as I get into my apartment. Maybe it’s pokey and there’s a lot of street noise from people outside, but it’s all mine. There are potted plants everywhere, my favorite books on the shelves and fresh white paint on the walls.
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 a
round 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.
Damn, I’ve really got to stop thinking about her.
The crowd on the dancefloor parts, and as if I conjured her into the club with my mind, I see her. She’s dressed in a tight, black spangled dress with a daring plunging neckline. Her eyes are closed and she moves sinuously to the music, expressing the beat as if she’s making it herself.
A moment later she opens her eyes and looks at me, still dancing. She seems surprised to see me.
Then she smiles, and it arrows right into my heart.
I put my beer down and I’m impelled toward her by an unseen force. She watches my every step as if she’s as transfixed as I am. The next thing I know, I’m standing in front of her, and I draw her into my arms. It’s the magic of the music or the flashing lights or the intoxicating atmosphere, but it just feels right. She must think so, too, because she wraps her arms around my neck. We move together to the music, just gazing at each other.
She’s making my body sing even louder than the dance music. I lean down and say into her ear, “You’re so gorgeous.”
She smiles shyly, and her fingers thread through the short hair at the nape of my neck. Damn, that feels good. I want to talk to her, but it’s insanely loud on the dancefloor.
“Want to get some fresh air?” I ask her, and she nods.
Taking her by the hand, I lead her through the crowd and out onto the club’s balcony, decorated with AstroTurf and fairy lights. I find us a table with a bench seat among the milling bodies and we sit down.
Livia scoops all of her hair off her neck and fans it. “That’s so much better. I love dancing but I was getting so hot.”
I can’t take my eyes off the curve of her neck and softness of her skin. “I can tell. You looked so amazing moving to the music that I had to come join you. I’m not usually much of a dancer.”
She gazes at me, and there’s none of the misgiving that was in her face this afternoon. Only curiosity. “It’s so funny seeing you here. I somehow don’t expect to see the guy who works at my local gym to be in a dark and dirty club.”
I can’t stop looking at her lips, which are glossy in the soft lights. Sometimes I like things dark and dirty. “We gym guys like to have fun, too. What’s your name?”
“Livia.” She smiles at me again. “You don’t seem so scary anymore.”
We’re sitting close together on the bench seat. Is it my imagination, or does she shift a little closer? “I’m not scary at all.”
Her eyes drop to my mouth. Oh, fuck yes. She’s going to kiss me. I wait, breathing softly, for her to lean in closer and press that lush mouth against mine. Come on, baby.
Livia takes a deep breath. “I don’t normally do this, but I’ve been single for six months now and I’m…I’m starting to go a little…Oh, god, now I’m babbling.” She takes a deep breath. “My apartment is just two blocks away.”
It takes me a moment to realize that she’s asking me to go home with her. I want to fist pump. I want to scoop her up in my arms. I want to leave with her right now, but she’s nervous and probably tipsy, and I want her relaxed and sober. “I’d love to, but just sitting with you is perfect. How about you and I get to know each other better?”
I want to know what makes her tick and what gets her excited before I touch her. I want to know all of her, inside and out.
Livia swears under her breath and scrambles to get to her feet. “Sorry, that was really presumptuous of me. I’ll go.”
I take her hand. “Please don’t go. What I mean is I don’t want this to be a one-night thing. I’m looking for more, and you’re cute as hell.”
Livia gazes at me in surprise and sits down again. “Thank you. And wow. There aren’t many men who would just come out and say that.”
If other men in her life have made her feel like crap or scared her, then I’m definitely not like other men. I’ll show her the sort of man I am, not tell her, and she can see for herself.
I reach out and brush my knuckles over her cheek. I can’t help myself. Her skin is beautiful and I want to touch her in so many ways. “I prefer to just come out and say most things. Have you ever called a man daddy before? Or maybe sir?”
Livia’s mouth drops open. That happens sometimes. Women think it’s gross or funny to call a man daddy. They don’t usually look terrified, though. I drop my hand because I’ve never terrified a woman in my life. “Livia? Are you okay?”
She takes a shuddering breath and her fear coalesces into anger and disgust. She turns her face away and wraps her arms around herself. “No. I don’t feel well. I’m going to text my friends. Can you go?”
I hesitate for just a moment. I brought up the word daddy just to gauge her openness to the idea, and it seems to be scoring a big fat zero. I guess she knows what it means, but she finds the idea of having a daddy dom disgusting.
Disappointment washes through me, and I stand up. “Of course. I’m sorry if I offended you, Livia. Have a good evening.”
The last thing I see as I head ba
ck into the club is Livia’s tense, unhappy face. I head downstairs for the exit without saying goodbye to the others. Another miss, and with a girl I’m really drawn to. Part of me wishes I’d never said anything to Livia, but this is better than going on dates and getting close to her, and then finding out we’re not compatible. I’ve tried sacrificing what I crave to make a relationship work in the past, but it just leads to heartbreak.
I have to believe it’s better, though it doesn’t feel like right now. It feels like shit. I really did like Livia.
Chapter Three
Livia
The moment I open my eyes the next morning, unhappiness crashes through me. I left the club ten minutes after talking to Trey, unable to shake off my disappointment. A gorgeous man who seemed to be attracted to me is just like my ex-boyfriend. I want to cry. Why do I keep being drawn to men who think women are empty-headed dolls to be played with and then cast aside like trash?
I throw the covers back and get out of bed. I didn’t drink after getting to the club, so my head is pretty clear, but that just means I remember every moment I spent with Trey. The way he looked at me so tenderly. The way his arms felt around me. The soft brush of his knuckles over my cheek as he looked deep into my eyes. As I wait for the coffee machine to deliver me an enormous hit of caffeine, my face drops into my hands. It’s not fair.
I take my coffee through to the sofa and spend the morning reading a fantasy novel, trying to lose myself in the world of an enchanted forest and a grumpy, sexy wizard. Then I head out and do my grocery shopping for the week.
It’s a beautiful morning and I grab a vegan caramel and pecan scone from my local bakery out of curiosity. I eat meat, but I’ve been interested in the idea of eating only from plants. To my surprise, the scone tastes amazing. Maybe it wouldn’t be hard to switch to vegan after all.
