Whipped (Hitched, #2)

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 fucking 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.

No, none of that matters. He's the epitome of player. He's the reason I'm seriously considering a sign that says "No shirt, no shoes, no service." Except he spends a lot of money here and we need customers like him, as Zoe reminds me every week.

The Aussie Hottie browses through our displays, picking, as always, the best of everything. The woman with him drapes her body against him as if she might die if they aren't touching at all times. Without any shame she rubs his cock up and down over his jeans and nibbles on his ear. Worried they might actually have sex in my store at any moment, I smile and walk over to them. "How can I help you today?"

He nods to the girl who giggles and wiggles off to look around. "Oh, just the usual today. Unless you have something new and exciting for me?"

The way he asks that, I feel like he's hinting at more than just our products, but I ignore the double entendre and shake my head. "Just what you see here. I don't think we've had any new deliveries since your last visit here with…" I cock my head, pretending to forget the other woman's name, even though I never knew it.

He smiles, a dimple forming on his cheek. "That was Natalie." He glances at the blonde. "That's Jessie."

"You're a busy man," I say. I'm not really judging. One of my best friends is a total player, too. Always a different girl. But he's also up front and honest. I don't know if this guy is or not.

"It's a distraction. For me and for them," he says, his eyes digging into mine as if trying to uncover my secrets.

"Do they know that?"

"Sure they do." He steps closer, our bodies inches apart. So close I can smell his aftershave. Minty spice. "And they're open for more than just a one-on-one, if you're ever interested."

Not that I haven't ever experimented with a threesome, but I've generally found they're better in theory than in reality. Still, it's been awhile since even a casual sexual experience for me, and my body feels the heat of him even as my mind tells me to walk away. Nothing good can come from a man this confident, this clearly used to being in control. Not my type. At. All.

I take his purchases to the register as he pulls out his cash.

"Why new toys every week?" I ask, handing him the bag.

"I may be a coit," he says, his accent stronger with the slang that I assume is Australian for 'I sleep with all the women,' "but I'm not a cheap asshole. And I don't reuse sex toys with different women. I let them keep whatever we use together."

A begrudging respect grows for him, but his cockiness still rubs me the wrong way.

He hands me a small stack of gold embossed cards with VIP written on them. "If you and your friend ever want a night out, come by around 10pm Wednesday through Sunday nights and tell them the Aussie Hottie sent you. I'll make sure you get good seats."

He winks at me as he walks out the door with his date by his side, and my cheeks flush to what I'm sure is a bright red.

Zoe and I are both quiet until we're sure he's out of earshot, then she starts laughing. Hard. Like doubled-over-at-the-waist laughing. "I can't believe he knows our name for him!"

I can't help but follow suit and it feels good to laugh so hard your sides hurt. "He's a cheeky bastard for sure."

As our breathing comes back and our laughs slow down, Zoe nudges my shoulder. "He's sexy as sin, Vi. And he's obvs into you. You should do him."

I shake my head and shove his note into my pocket. "I am not 'doing' the Aussie Hottie. He's definitely not my type."

Zoe just grins and returns to inventory.

The rest of the day speeds by as we work with our customers to find them what they want and need. By the end of the day I'm tired, but happy and excited to meet my potential new roommate.

Even more excited when I get another passive-aggressive note from Mr. Harris.