Rochelle starts to protest, watching in fear as her coworker makes her way towards the front door with Rex. As if she could read Rochelle’s mind, the girl turns and says, “It’s okay, Rosh, this is one thing you can’t mess up.”
As they take their leave, Rochelle’s eyes dart nervously around the shop before falling on me. When they do, my heart skips an anxious beat. I tell myself to breathe as she nervously begins to shift on her unsteady feet.
Smiling, I wait until I see her nerves calm a little before making my way around the corner, and then say, “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”
She scurries past me to her coworker’s booth. I follow her slowly, unapologetically watching her luscious, round ass sway back and forth as she leads the way. God, what I wouldn’t give to watch that ass bounce in front of me, on top of me, and grab it as she rides me all damn night. I take the time her back is turned to me to memorize her body. If this is the only time I’ll ever see her, that won’t stop me from dreaming about her. At night, during the day, fuck - in the shower later as I picture her beneath me, taking every bit of pleasurable pain I’m suddenly craving giving her.
When she has found the items she needs, she quickly turns around and unfortunately notices where my gaze has fallen. Feeling like an ass, I sit down in the seat in front of the mirror and wait for her to get to work. This girl has hardly said more than a few sentences to me. If I want a chance at not entirely scaring her away, I need to stop my damn dick from ruling my mind. Regardless of the fact that her damn body looks like it was made for sin.
“How short?” she asks, as she drapes a cover over me.
“I don’t know,” I timidly say, as she hurries back to her supplies and starts to assemble the clippers.
She turns quickly and makes her way back to my side.
“I picked one up from the shortest, I hope that’s okay,” she reaches out and touches me for the first time, and God, I swear we both jump from the spark running through our connection.
Her startled eyes dart up, and she looks into my shocked expression in the mirror.
Hell, I felt it too, Angel.
No fucking denying it.
With shaky hands, she continues her job. Her fingertips stroke through my hair, once, twice, three thrilling times before she looks up at me again. She’s just as addicted to our connection as I am. Her fingertips trail down the back of my neck. I absentmindedly moan from the sensation. She bites her lip, resisting the urge to give us more.
The pulsing way my body responds to her touch is an addiction I know I will never get enough of.
“I’m sorry, I’m so frazzled,” she whispers, just as caught up in our chemistry as I am and not wanting to let it go just yet. “I’m still learning. Sometimes I get a little nervous.”
She begins to buzz my head, and my body feels colder as her touch is replaced with the clippers now at work ridding me of my loss from last night. But if I am being honest, I call this a damn win. She comes around me and begins to clip the front of my hair once she has finished up the back. I let her work in silence, the sound of the clippers the only noise as all else fades and we are sucked into our own world. She hurries, a little too fast for my liking seeing as every slip of the clippers against my skull is bringing us closer to an end I am not ready to meet. When she stops, my heart breaks a little because I know this is it. Our time is up.
Fuck, I am not ready for our end yet.
She brushes off my shoulders as I snag a quick glimpse in the mirror at my new look. Quickly, she grabs the drape off my frame and I reluctantly push up out of the seat. Following her back to the front desk, I look outside for any sign of Rex. When I am sure he is nowhere in sight, I glance back at Rochelle and war with myself on what the hell I should say next.
“That will be $18.95,” she says, as she looks towards the desk, not into my eyes like I want, and waits for me to fish out my wallet.
Reluctantly, I take it from my back pocket and produce a $20 and two $5 bills. Handing her all three, she goes to break my change when I grab her hand, stilling her. “Keep it,” I say quietly.
She looks up at me, startled, and then glances down at where my hand is holding her still. Our connection warms. A fire sparks to life that neither of us can deny.
“Thank you,” she whispers, before putting the right amount of money in the register and starting to tuck the tip away in her apron.
“Don’t thank me just yet,” I smile, putting my wallet back in my pant’s pocket. “Let me take you to dinner. You can thank me after.”
All her movements stop. I swear I see her quit breathing. She stares up at me as if just the idea of me asking her out is entirely out of this world. Entirely out of question. She swallows over a lump in her throat. I become skittish, nervous, panicked, waiting for a response that normally so easily falls from a woman’s lips when I ask them out.
“I can’t,” she whispers hesitantly, breaking a piece of my heart in the process.
But there is no way in hell she can get away from me that easily, so I persist, “Of course you can, we all have to eat. What time do you get off?”
She shakes her head no, just as the door chimes. One glance over my shoulder, and my heart sink’s knowing our time’s up. Her coworker waltzes back inside, smiling, sexually sated, as Rex follows hot on her heels, licking his lips.
“No,” Rochelle whispers. “I really can’t.”
Hurt, I glance back at her just as the girl from earlier, the one I now assume is her boss, comes around the counter.
“Nice work, Rosh,” she exclaims. “Next, I need you to take inventory before the end of today. It will probably take you until closing to finish.”
