HOOKED: An Erotic Romance by Vivie Rock Page A

taken up with the picture of a man’s torso, a perfect six-pack, each ab an angular, chiselled, masterpiece of Photoshop no doubt. No-one had a stomach that good.
    I looked up from the flyer at the building in front of us. ‘This can’t be right,’ I said, puzzled.
    In front of us was a small row of what I can only describe as dirty old garages. Each one had rusting, dark blue corrugated metal covering over the entrance, and beside that a grimy black door. ‘This place is a dump,’ I said. ‘It can’t be here.’
    Rebecca looked at the flyer again, screwing up her eyes because she’d left her glasses at home. Really, she was so forgetful it’s a wonder she managed to get anything done. Take this evening, she’d forgotten her water bottle, then her wallet, then her car keys. We had to go back into her house three times before we could leave. We were already running ten minutes late.
    ‘Look, we’re obviously in the wrong place,’ I said to Rebecca. ‘Let’s just cut our losses, go to a bar, get a nice bottle of white or something.’ God, I could use a drink. I was almost glad Rebecca had messed up.
    ‘Wait a minute,’ said Rebecca, pointing at the door, and suddenly I heard the noise of hands thumping against hard fabric. It was the sound of people punching. There was no mistaking it.
    We were here.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER TWO
    Late To Class
     
    We shuffled in the door, to the sound of some thirty or forty people, rhythmically punching pads in pairs. Each time they punched, they let out a loud hiss, and I almost stepped back through the door and left. I’d heard there was a good yoga place down the road. Surely Rebecca would be up for that instead? It was meant to be really good for your core.
    But the main thing I noticed as I stepped through the door was this: the place was full of men. It was a small, dank old garage, absolutely chock-full of them. What the hell?
    Rebecca must have made yet another mistake and brought us to the mixed class. And with all these men, it absolutely stank in here. Sweat and testosterone. And even the women in here looked like men - everyone had short hair, tribal tattoos, and hard, angular bodies. I couldn’t have felt more out of place if I’d tried.
    ‘We’ll creep in round the back,’ whispered Rebecca behind me.
    ‘Fuck’s sake, Rebecca,’ I whispered back, dying to turn back, but determined not to wimp out before she did. I could do anything she could. I could do it twice as hard.
    I tired to squeeze past a guy holding up pads while his partner threw punches at him, but the guy took a step back, stopping me in his tracks. ‘You’re gonna get it,’ he said, in a low, threatening voice. I noticed that one of his teeth was missing, and he had a scar running across his lip.
    ‘Get what?’ I asked, standing straighter, throwing my shoulders back, a technique I’d learnt for disciplining the more unruly members of the male population at work.
    The guy just winked, looked at my breasts, straining out of my tight pink top, gave me a lecherous smile, showing yet another missing tooth, and then he turned to the green-haired punk punching him.
    Well, this was just great. What had Rebecca got us into? She was my friend, yes, but I wouldn’t be coming back here next week to ‘support’ her, that’s for sure. This place was a hive of carnal chaos.
    As I stepped forwards, trying to catch up with Rebecca, who was slipping off her shoes and putting down her water bottle, the punching and hissing suddenly stopped, and the room went silent. Everyone stood with their legs together and their bodies rigid with attention.
    At the front of the room, where I hadn’t yet dared let myself look, the instructor stood, arms by his side. Everyone in the room had their gaze fixed on him, and his gaze was fixed on us.
    Now I’ve seen a lot of men in my life, I’ve even seen a fair number of them up close and personal, but I’d never seen a man like this. He must have been