“Enjoying yourself?” he asks with a smirk.
“Uh-huh,” I mumble as I get lost in his gorgeous eyes.
Yep, I’m definitely in a trance.
“You thought that was good, then wait for this,” he says, and I stare at him in confusion. He leans over, grabs the shampoo bottle, pours a little onto his hand, and turns me around again. Then his fingers are in my hair, and it’s like heaven to my scalp. I guess, being a guitarist, he should have talented fingers. He massages my scalp, lathering it up but being careful not to get any in my eyes. Using a firm but delicate pressure, he works both hands over my scalp, and I find myself closing my eyes again.
Where did he learn how to do this?Wait, don’t think about that, Dee!
I shut my mind off and enjoy the soothing caress of the man I belong to.
The man I belong to.The thought no longer causes the apprehension it once did.
He rinses my hair, then repeats the process with conditioner, massaging my head until I’m almost asleep. I stumble slightly, and Colt grabs my arms tightly, steadying me on my feet.
“Did I put you to sleep?” He is unable to hide his chuckle.
“Um… no. I felt so relaxed that I… um… okay, yeah, I fell asleep. So sue me,” I reply, turning around and cuddling into him. He chuckles as his arms wrap around me while we stand in the shower, holding each other until we look like wrinkled grandparents.
Colt turns off the shower, and I step out onto the bathmat, grab a towel, and hand it to him. He smiles and scrunches it through his hair while I grab another one and wrap my hair up in it, then use another one to wrap around my body.
“We have to do that again,” I declare as he dries himself with the pristine white towel.
He chuckles. “That good, hey?”
My eyes bulge as I nod my head emphatically.
By the time Colt and I finish our shower, it’s time to get ready for his concert at Madison Square Garden in New York.It was nice to spend the day with him—just us alone—with zero interruptions.
I let Colt help me pick something to wear since I don’t have a lot of rocker-style clothing with me, but my trusty, now-ripped jeans are definitely helping me fit right in.
“This is cute,” he says, pulling out a black lacy bra and matching panties.
Grabbing them off him, I throw them back in the suitcase, and he chuckles at me.
“That’s not helping, Colt,” I reply, frustrated that I only have cutesy tops and cardigans in my suitcase.
“Okay, how about this? I’ll go next door and grab something of Anna’s. You girls are about the same size. I know she won’t mind helping us out. I’ll be right back,” he continues, rushing out of the room wearing only his boxer briefs. The guy oozes confidence, although I guess with a body and face like his, you’re allowed to.
With nothing else to do, I stand in my jeans and bra, waiting for him to return. The door opens, and my eyes bulge as he walks in with Anna, Sia, and another couple of the Slayettes. Completely embarrassed, I quickly cover myself with the tangled sheet from the bed.
“Colt,” I exclaim loudly, and they all laugh.
“Baby, they’re chicks! They have their own set of tits. They’re not going to be worried about seeing yours,” he says, walking over to me and kissing my head.
I can only glare at him.
“Oh, c’mon, Little Bean, it’s sprouting time,” Sia advises as she pulls the sheet away from me.
Colt laughs while they all walk me into the ensuite.
“Okay, put this on, and we’ll deal with your hair and makeup,” Anna says, shoving a black sequined bandeau top into my arms.
“I can’t wear that,” I answer, holding up the thin piece of material, which is just enough to cover my breasts.
“Yes, you can, and you will. Don’t you wanna look sexy for the Sladenator?” one of the girls asks, which causes laughter to erupt from the rest of them.
“You’ve been hanging around Dingo too much, Kira,” Sia replies as she shakes her head. “God, I’m married to the moron, and I’d never call Colt the Sladenator,” she says.
