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She nods. “That’s right. You and Art had to be legally separated a while before you were able to file for divorce, and in all that time, the only guys you had the hots for were Dream Daddy and Dr. Walker. But Doc doesn’t count, because everyone and their brother has the hots for him. But still… much older than you.”

“That man is sex on a stick,” I insert.

“And just gets finer with age,” she agrees.

“So unfair,” we complain in unison, and we burst out into girly giggles.

When we catch our breath, she continues with her plight. “And how did you describe Gym Daddy again?”

I whimper as I picture that gorgeous man who always works out over in the “big boy” equipment, as Astrid got me calling it. Yes, Astrid, as in Doc’s wife—the same Doc Vi and I were just talking about like schoolgirls. But Astrid is completely secure in her marriage and knows she has absolutely nothing to worry about, because Doc is completely obsessed with her. She finds it funny that we girls all have a crush on the handsome therapist and have no shame in making it known to him and everyone around that we think he’s hot as hell. Always in a joking manner though. She knows none of us would ever try to tempt him away from her—not that anyone could. If someone didn’t believe in soul mates, they’d just have to hear their story one time and they’d suddenly be a true believer.

I blow out a breath and close my eyes, visualizing the second man I nicknamed after finding myself calling him “the hotty at the gym” over and over every time I would mention him to Vi. “Muscles. So many muscles. And his giant arms are painted in tattoos. But he’s just fucking… beautiful. He looks no older than us, but he’s got a white close-cropped beard, so either it’s premature graying, or he’s just taken really good care of himself for a long time. Or maybe it’s just because I see him mostly from a distance—I don’t think I’d be able see any lines or small details that would identify his age. But what really gets me going when I see him, if I had to pick just one thing out of a whole grocery list of things about him that fill my lady garden with butterflies… he's like Gaston’s Song in Beauty and the Beast.” And then I sing, “Every last inch of him’s covered with hair!”

She throws back her head and laughs, and I can’t help but grin.

“Shut up. I know you’re probably picturing some sasquatch-lookin’ dude in your head right now, but that is not even remotely close to what his is like. He just looks… so manly. So masculine and virile.” My eyes are at half-mast, and my shoulders shrug forward, making my boobs squeeze together, and I’m not at all surprised to clearly feel that my nipples are hard and sensitive against the soft cups of my bra. My body always has a physical reaction when I see or just think about Gym Daddy. “And it’s not like… black, coarse… pubes all over him or something.”

Vi makes a gagging sound I ignore.

“It’s lighter. A little darker than blond, and it looks like it would be soft to the touch. He wears tank tops, so I can see it’s literally all over, aaall the way down, because his shirt lifts enough for me to see below his belly button when he does pull-ups.” I could go on and on about the way this man looks. I’ve memorized every single detail my eyes have been able to pick up on, when he’s lifting weights and I’m over on the machines or the treadmill. “Could you imagine what all those hairy hard muscles would feel like against your naked skin? Jesus,” I murmur.

“It’s yummy, for sure,” Vi says dreamily, and an image of Corbin pops into my head. I’ve never seen him shirtless, so I have no idea what his skin looks like beneath his ever-present black Henleys, but there’s no hiding how ripped he is with the way those shirts fit him like a glove. So if he’s got body hair, even if it’s less than the amount Gym Daddy has, then Vi would definitely know how stimulating it would feel.

“I’ve never been with anyone who’s hairy before. You’ve seen Art. He has a teensy bit between his pecs and a happy trail, but that’s about it. And while he isn’t fat, he isn’t muscular either. He’s always been really good-looking, but he’s average in the body department, if not a little skinny. And before him, there were only teenaged boys against my teenaged girl body. So Gym Daddy is just… sexy as fuck to me,” I finish.

Vi nods, as if I just gave her even more evidence for her argument. “And now Dumpster Daddy. Who you mentioned an over-the-top amount of times has a salt-and-pepper beard.”

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