Page 21 of Opposites (Never) Attract
“Really? This is barely anything,” I said, as electricity pulsed through my ab muscles. Contracting and releasing them. Contracting and releasing them.
Perfection.
“You can do it,” Stan encouraged Tag. “Feel the burn without feeling the burn, am I right?”
“Take me to five, Stan,” I told the attendant.
“Touch that dial and I’ll break your fingers, Stan,” Tag growled, his gaze shooting over at me. “Why are you doing this?”
“It’s a targeted core workout in significantly less time than it would take to do sit ups. I told you, I believe in efficiency. Five, Stan.”
Teeth clenched, Tag gripped the armrests of his chair.
“Wow, for someone who looks so big and strong, I thought you could endure more pain than this,” Stan said.
“I can endure plenty of pain,” Tag said. “I just don’t choose to do it. Jesus.
I feel like I’m giving birth to a fucking cow!” Tag grimaced, bending his body in half.
“This is not even a bad cramp on day two of my period. Suck it up, buttercup.”
It was a slight exaggeration. Seven was the highest level I’d ever gone on the device. The pulse gripping my center was pretty intense, but it’s exactly what I wanted. The pain reminded me that my muscles were working. That my body was getting stronger with every pulse. I shifted the belt lower on my abs.
Beneath the robe, the bottom edge of the belt touched the edge of my satin panties, and with the next surge, the pulse rippled down between my legs. I adjusted the belt back up, but the pleasure/pain lingered.
The pain also cut through the noise in my head and helped me to focus on just my breathing. All the stress from work, the partnership, this bullshit about the Swinging D, my family guilt – it all became background noise.
A sharp jolt made me arch my back and neck and I had to work to catch my breath.
“You’re hurting,” Tag groaned. “Turn this fucking thingoff now.”
“No,” I protested. I felt alive. Clear. Strong. “Turn it up to seven, Stan.”
Another jolt of electricity and I grunted and arched my back even more. My heels dug into the smooth leather of the treatment chair, my purple painted toes pinched together and pointed. I bit down hard on my lower lip as my hands squeezed into the leather arm rests.
Everything fell away.
All of the bullshit silenced.
It was just pain that turned to pleasure and back again. As my brain quieted, my body got loud. Clamored for attention. I felt my skin. My breasts. My muscles.
I’d never been so strong.
“What are you doing?” Stan shouted. “Stop!”
Suddenly the contractions in my core were gone, and when I opened my eyes, Tag was standing next to Stan with the remote in his hands.
“Get out. Now,” Tag said to Stan.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to leave guests…” Whatever Stan was going to say was stopped by Tag’s low rumble. An animal sound, a wild, barely controlled growl, that rippled through me like the electricity running through the belt.
Stan left the room, shutting the door behind him.
“What are you doing?” I gasped, trying to catch my breath and get some control of the situation. “This is a first-class spa and I have a reputation-”
I was cut off by the jolt that arched through my core.
The clench, the tightness, all of it felt delicious.
