Dashing All the Way

by Chelsea Curto

Whoever decided running is a good form of exercise can go straight to hell.

I’m a stubborn bitch, and there’s nothing I love more in life than proving a man wrong.

“If it doesn’t feel like torture, you’re not doing it right,” he calls out, and I roll my eyes.

That dude probably does Cross Fit. He probably eats eighteen egg whites for breakfast and drains his protein shake like it’s water. Meanwhile, I’m over here going to bed dehydrated every night because I can’t remember to drink enough fluids until I have a throbbing headache. We are not the same.

“Do what? Contemplate the necessity of men’s existence? It’s pretty easy; I think society would function just fine without them. Think of how well the world would run if women were in charge.”

and I so badly want to be curled up with a blanket and an espresso.

love being on my ass, believe it or not. I prefer it when I’m getting something good out of it, like, you know, an orgasm. Not more pain.”

“What are you recording tonight?” Holden asks. “Please tell me it’s something good.” “Masked men. Chasing in the woods. Fun stuff.” My buddies are the only ones who know about my secret side gig moonlighting as an audiobook narrator.

After a deep internet search told me the company was legitimate and not a creepy dude in his basement, I signed on to bring some of the top selling romance books to life. Cowboys. Stalkers. Billionaires. I’ve done it all.

“I’ve run out of reasons why Jada can’t listen to the books she loves. I sound like a controlling husband.” Rhett scowls at me. “I don’t know how to tell my wife I don’t want her to hear my best friend tell her to take it like a good girl.”

“You want me to ruin your secret? She’d want you in bed with us every night, reading her to sleep.” “Hey. If you want to add a third, you know I’m down. I offered years ago.” “Nope. Stay the fuck away from her ears and our bedroom.”

And the signs! That one says we’re running better than the government, and that’s the fucking truth.” “That one says to smile if you’ve shit your pants.”

I’m doing this for the women who have been told they’re not capable of something. For anyone who feels like they’re not good at anything. I’m doing it for younger me, the girl who never would’ve let a man dictate her life,

I couldn’t help but get off to the thought of him last night, though. To the feel of his hands on my shoulders and how firm his chest was when I collided with him. The man is made of muscle in his upper body, and the smirks he tossed my way made me want to ride his face.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say. “We have to stop meeting like this,”

“Your son didn’t know how to fuck me.” Margo brings her mouth close to mine. “Do you think you will?” “Baby, when I’m finished with you, you won’t be able to walk straight. I’ll give you exactly what you need.” She stands, eyes locked on mine. “Then what the hell are we still doing here?”

There’s a pinch on the soft part of my thigh, and I hiss at the sting. My eyes fly open and Finn is staring at me, his gaze heated and heavy. “You know I’m a man, Margo. Take off your underwear so I can show you I know what to do with my tongue.”

“You don’t have to worry about me not knowing what to do. I love to eat, Margo.” I’ll fuck her later.

Jesus is probably rolling in his grave because of what a ho-ho-hoe I am.

“All appealing, but next is something totally different. It’s a romance with rival meteorologists. They chase a category five hurricane together. And fall in love along the way, obviously.”

Twisters core

I’d throw the whole dictionary of compliments at her if I could. I’d call her every adjective under the sun if it made her smile like she’s smiling right now.

“Isn’t there a saying about blood being thicker than water?” “Not when your blood is a dumbass mid-twenty-year-old who can’t keep his dick in his pants.”