The women cheered.
Armie covered his crotch and warned, “I’ll be wearing my cup, so don’t anyone get any ideas.”
“Too late,” someone yelled, leading to more laughter and a lot of agreement.
Stack’s pride expanded. Vanity was comfortable and confident in any situation.
A few of the women had questions, so with the class over, he stepped to the side to answer. He tried to concentrate, but damn. He couldn’t keep his gaze off Vanity.
Now that he’d slept with her, he looked at everything she did or said differently, more personally.
Arms over her head, she stretched. Her workout clothes clung to her body in all the right places. She’d long since removed the over-shirt and now wore only the camisole-type sports top that pretty much squished her boobs. It wasn’t that different from what many of the other women wore. It covered her so that nothing showed through, but Vanity looked far better than most.
Using a soft white towel, she patted her face, her upper chest, then lifted her braid to dry the back of her neck.
The rest of the class finished up and wandered off, most bundling up and heading for the door. Denver and Cannon started putting supplies away. Leese rolled out the mop bucket. They had a cleaning crew come in once a week for a really thorough job, but in between that they took turns mopping the mats with a special sanitizer.
Holding her hair off her neck with one hand, fanning her face with the other, Cherry came back over by Vanity. Yvette, who hadn’t taken the class but had worked out while at the rec center, also joined them.
When Vanity caught Stack staring toward them, she smiled. “I really think you guys should let us use the locker room. I’m perspiring. Cherry’s perspiring.”
Cherry went still, then looked down at herself and blushed. Sweat dampened the front of her tank top, especially between and beneath her big boobs.
Denver scowled, giving Stack a shove. Which in turn knocked him into Armie. None of them spoke.
Cannon took up the torch. “It’s only set up for men.”
“We don’t need the urinals,” Vanity said. “Just the showers.”
Yvette plucked at her top. “I really could—”
Cannon put his hand over her mouth. “We don’t have a door on the locker room, and sure, we’d all know not to step in, but there are other people here, other guys, and—”
Vanity said, “So put someone there to keep watch for us.”
Stack opened his mouth, but at first nothing came out. He cleared his throat. “Sounds carry down there.” He gestured. “There not being a door and all.”
Grinning, Armie said, “Meaning whoever keeps guard—”
“Watch,” Vanity corrected.
“—will hear every little detail. Like clothes dropping. And water running. Even slick, soapy hands—”
This time, Stack shoved him without Denver’s help.
“I’ll do it,” Cannon offered, and he sounded like he’d just thrown himself on the sacrificial altar.
“Fuck that.” Denver took a step forward. “I don’t want you listening to Cherry shower.”
Cherry’s face got hotter. “Denver!”
Folding his arms, Cannon stared at him. “You think I’d let you listen to Yvette?”
“Cannon!” Yvette joined the brigade of embarrassed women.
Only Vanity remained unflustered. “Let Armie do it.”
Mutually appalled, Stack, Denver and Cannon all stared at her.
Going along, Armie nodded and rubbed his hands together. “Yeah, let me do it.”
“Hell, no.”
“In his dreams.”
“Not in this lifetime.”
Armie laughed. “You guys know I won’t be thinking anything you wouldn’t be thinking.”
“Maybe,” Denver said. “But we wouldn’t go blabbing it everywhere.”
Crossing his heart dramatically, Armie swore, “It’ll be between me and my pillow.”
Denver took a step toward him, but Vanity put herself in his way. “We’re showering. For the future, you might want to think about creating a space for women.”
“Tried,” Cannon argued. “We’re out of room here. I wanted to expand, but the guy who owns the lot next to us doesn’t want to sell.”
“Hmm...” Vanity got a thoughtful look on her face. “Well then, I suggest you find a desk to put down there and then, perhaps, we could plan this around when Harper is here doing the scheduling. She could be our lookout.”