He cheated i chose two firefighters novel Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Scar’s POV

Dear Diary

Two days ago, I went in for a complete checkup. I’ve officially been in Florida for a month

now, and since Gavin got back from Paris, he’s come by four times–each visit ending with me so thoroughly wrecked I can barely think straight. This whole friends–with–benefits

setup? I’m not mad at it.

This morning, an email landed in my inbox: clean bill of health, and not pregnant. Not that I’d been expecting that, but still–relief comes in weird little waves. Later, I went back in for my birth control shot.

I also signed up for self–defense classes. Summer told me she’s been doing them since she was a teenager and pointed me to the place she trusts. I wanted to take the class with

her, but the instructor’s openings fell right in the middle of Summer’s workday.

So. It’s just me.

Since I was going alone, I chose private sessions instead of a group. Here goes nothing.

***

The gym was huge–bright, open, and mostly wall–free, like someone had taken a

warehouse and turned it into a training space. The only enclosed area sat in the far back,

probably offices or staff rooms.

Classes were happening everywhere. Toddlers tottered through one section, kids and

teens moved in another, and in the corner I even saw older adults practicing. It made me

smile. Good for them.

A curved, bean–shaped desk anchored the front. Behind it sat a bubbly brunette with her

hair pulled into a high ponytail. Her face was soft and pretty, her eyes almond–shaped, but it was the color that made me pause.

Violet.

“You are so pretty,” I blurted, because apparently that’s who I am now.

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She lit up. “Thank you! You too. Your skin is perfect–honestly, I’m jealous. Are you a

model?”

I laughed, warmed by the compliment. “No. I’m between jobs right now, so I figured I’d do

something useful with my time. I’m Scar Joseph. I booked one–on–one training with Lena

Josselyn.”

“Got it. I’ll buzz her. I think she’s back in the staff room.”

“Thanks.”

While I waited, I watched the floor and felt quietly pleased that I’d dressed right: leggings,

sports bra, tennis shoes. My hair was braided down my back, neat and out of my face.

“Hi–are you Scar?”

I turned.

A striking woman stood beside me, a little shorter than my 5’5, with rainbow–colored hair

twisted into a bun and bright blue eyes. She looked older than me–late thirties, maybe

early forties–and she held out her hand with an easy smile.

“Yes. Hi. You must be Lena?”

“I am. Nice to meet you.” Her grip was firm, confident. “Summer told you about my place?”

“She did. We’ve gotten close. She found me my condo–same building as hers.”

Lena’s smile turned knowing. “And she’s been dragging you into the Hollywood night

scene.”

I swallowed. “Yeah.”

“The sex clubs?”

My cheeks heated. “Um… yes.”

“Don’t blush,” she said, clearly amused. “That’s where I met my partner, Arden. At Club

Sechs.”

“Sechs… that’s six, right? I’ve only gone to Club Zero and Club Uno.” I hesitated, then

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admitted it anyway. “I liked them. But I’m starting to realize the higher the number, the

more… advanced things get. I didn’t even know sex could be fun like that–or not just one-

on–one.”

“You’re catching on.” She motioned like we could walk and talk. “The numbers matter. Club

Sechs is the auction club. You can go as a buyer, or you can be what people bid on. But if

you’re going to be auctioned, you have to tell the host what you’re into–your kink–so bidders know whether they want you.”

“My kink?” I repeated, stuck on the word. “I don’t even know what that is.”

Lena’s brows lifted. “Oh. You really are innocent.” She made a little sound of delight. “You’d

cause a riot at an auction. There aren’t a lot of people around here with that kind of… untouched vibe. The daddies would go crazy.”

I stared at her. “I’m sorry-”

“No, no,” she cut in, laughing. “I’m teasing. I just didn’t expect today to turn into Sex Ed. Kinks are basically the things people specifically like–preferences, fetishes, roles. Some like restraints, some like impact–whips, paddles, spanking. There are voyeurs and

exhibitionists.”

“Which means?”

“Watching, or being watched.” She counted on her fingers. “Some do age play–like dressing up as babies, being fed, being changed, rocked to sleep. There’s a ton out there.

You can research online, but fair warning–you can fall down a rabbit hole fast.”

My mind was spinning. “Okay… wow. What about you? What’s yours–if it’s not too

personal?”

“It’s personal,” she said, not offended at all. “But I don’t mind. I’m a mommy. Arden is my little girl. It’s dom/sub. I take care of her, and she gives me control within boundaries. And

when she’s bratty, she gets corrected.”

I held my breath.

“She likes acting younger,” Lena continued, matter–of–fact. “I dress her, manage her needs, handle routines. She’s my Little. She’s twenty–two, but when we play, I prefer her around ten. It’s part of BDSM–age play.”

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“It probably sounds wrong,” she added quickly, “but it’s consensual, and I’m not interested in children. It’s about dynamic and care, not actual kids. It’s our life, and right now it’s 24/7.”

“That… makes more sense than I thought it would,” I admitted.

Lena nodded. “If you ever did something similar, the structure–how often, what rules, what roles–that’s something you’d decide with your daddy or mommy.” Then she tilted her head. “Honestly, you’d do very well in DD/LG.”

“What does that mean?”

“Daddy dom and little girl.” She didn’t sugarcoat it. “And I’m not just saying that–your look would sell. Slim but curvy, small–to–medium chest, and you could pass for thirteen to seventeen if you leaned into it. At auctions, you take fifty percent of whatever you’re purchased for. With your wide–eyed thing? You’d make a killing.”