Don't Mess With The Rock Chicks

Vixen stacked her boxes against the wall in the new apartment. Office. Apartment. Whatever. She was relatively sure that Thomas did not know about this building, as his sexuality had been Gregory’s closely held secret. She knew that Gregory had made Andrew make the purchase disappear off the books. The accountant had been very helpful from his sandy, sunny, retirement.

And that was all that mattered. That she and her boy toys would be safe.

“Alright?” Shadow paused by her, carrying a box. He had taken off his shirt, pushing it into his waistband, and his face was sweaty, his arms and chest dirty as the dust from the boxes mixed with his sweat, leaving behind streaks.

She smiled at him with false brightness. “Fine.”

He was still worried about her.

She had made choices that she did not regret, but they had come with a cost, and she had paid it. Broken boy toys, she thought, and a broken Domme. But she was a Fixer, and she would f-king fix herself, along with her boys.

She saw the