Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“What are you doing here?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I was informed I was scruffy. I thought you could help with that.”
I stood behind him, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Are there no barbers in Lomand?”
“Not pretty ones like you.” His gaze became heated. “I want your hands on me, Cherry. Not a stranger’s.”
A thrill ran through me at his words. The truth was I had wanted to touch his hair the moment I met him. Run my fingers through his thick locks and see if they were as soft as they looked. I wanted to touch him.
“And your scruff?” I asked, hating how thick my voice sounded.
He ran a hand along his chin. “Do what you want with me,” he said quietly. “I’m yours.”
The tremor in my stomach became a full-blown earthquake at his words. I had to fist my hands at my sides to stop the tremble in them. I swallowed hard, squaring my shoulders. “Well, let’s get you shampooed, then.”
He followed me to the sinks. I waved off the girls, both of them eager to be the one to wash his hair.
I wasn’t sharing. Not today.
I got him settled, trying to ignore the way he stared at me. It was constant, his eyes never leaving me. I could feel the heat of them with every movement. I had to shut my eyes and draw in a deep breath, trying to find my equilibrium. I had a feeling, with Dom Salvatore, that was going to be hard to come by.
Washing his hair was an intimate experience—something I didn’t expect. As I leaned over him, his scent drifted up through the heat of the water. Masculine. Heady. He sighed as I began to shampoo his hair, the strands as soft as I’d thought they would be under my fingers. His eyes fluttered shut as I massaged his scalp, a small groan of pleasure escaping from his mouth. As I leaned over to grab a comb, my breasts pressed into his face, and I swore we both whimpered. My nipples felt tight and hard under the layers of my clothing, yet I swore I felt his heat burn right through the fabric. Being this close to him, I felt the ache between my thighs. One I had long forgotten about. I had to fight off the urge to climb onto his lap and kiss the hell out of him.
The girls would have a field day with that visual.
Finally, I finished, wrapping his head in a towel and stepping back. “You can sit up now. Follow me.”
He blew out a long breath, opening his eyes, the stark desire and passion in them taking my breath away. “I’ll follow you anywhere, woman.”
Flustered, I glanced away, my gaze falling on his lap. I wasn’t the only one affected. His thick jeans held a bulge that both promised and threatened. It was all I could do not to groan at the sight of it. Instead, I averted my eyes. “This way,” I said briskly.
He chuckled as he followed. No doubt my cheeks were on fire and he knew exactly what I had seen.
I draped a cape over him. Normally, I would chat with a client. Especially new ones. Draw them out and establish a rapport, hoping to gain a repeat customer. With Dom, my words had dried up. It was all I could do to concentrate on his hair, trimming his scruff. Aside from a few murmured questions and responses, we were silent.
But the tension between us was palpable. He watched me. Every move. Every time I looked up, his eyes were on me. I saw the way his hands clutched at the arms of the chair as if he was stopping himself from touching me.
And I ached for him to do so.
But I tamped everything down. Snipped and combed. Shaped and cut. I used my clippers on his scruff, trying not to show any reaction as I touched his face. His skin. I jumped a little as he gripped my hip. “Keeping you steady,” he said.
His touch only made the flame inside me burn brighter. I felt it everywhere.
I blew his hair dry, using the lowest setting, enjoying the feel of his hair. That was the only time he shut his eyes, and I knew he was enjoying it. His shoulders relaxed, and a smile played on his full mouth.
I wanted to kiss that mouth.
I stepped back, shutting off the dryer and giving his hair a final comb-through. “All done.”
He opened his eyes, and I held up a mirror so he could see the back. “Looks great,” he praised. “Best haircut I’ve ever had.”
I tried not to laugh at his low muttering that followed. “Most stimulating as well.”
He followed me to the front, and I gave him the total. He dug into his pocket, handing me too much money. I shook my head, and he frowned.