If she were in my bed, promising to run her fingers through my hair every day, I’d keep it. Her touch sends shivers across my neck and a shot of electricity to my dick. I imagine scenarios of Rosie in my bed: soft and gentle, each caress thought out as I sink into her.
The whir of the clippers fills the space, and she placesthe handheld machine against my skin. I hold my breath as chunks of hair fall to the ground. The arousal doesn’t go, but seeing my hair fall and losing the itchiness that’s dogged me for weeks helps me focus.
As she reaches my skin and my scars, I hold my breath.
“You’re in control of this.” Her warm breath dances across my neck, and her lips brush my ear. “You’re in control of me.”
“Is that what you’re into?” I cover my mouth. “Scrap that. I didn’t ask it.”
She leans closer and whispers, “I imagine I would be with you.” I gulp, and she adds, “But this isn’t suitable professional chat.”
Her fingertips travel across my scars, but I don’t pull away. The temptation to palm my dick through my joggers has me folding my arms. I swallow loudly.
She hasn’t freaked out or gasped about my scars, a gift she doesn’t understand the wealth of.
I’m disappointed when it comes to an end, although as soon as she’s gone, I’ll wrap my hand around my dick and think of her.
But then I remember where she’s going tonight. She’ll be dancing with men who only need to spend five minutes in her presence to realise she’s perfect. I grit my teeth.
She walks around to look at me. One of her eyebrows quirks as she tidies the front of my hair. Her body leans over me, her breasts close enough to my face that I’m desperate to rip her T-shirt off her and feast on her nipples. I shift in my seat.
She’s taken me from tears to intense arousal. She has enough in her life without me complicating it, yet I want to bend her over my bed and show her the man I used to be.
She turns the clippers off and stares at her handiwork before grabbing a mirror and my cap. “What do you think?”
I grin at my reflection, although it’s partly because she’s peeking over the mirror, smiling as she waits for my reaction.
“I love it.”
I want to ask her to spend the night in my arms and give me a chance to be the person I used to be as I make her come on my tongue.
She passes me my cap, and I shake my head.
Her beaming smile fills me with a warmth that has me reaching for her.
“It doesn’t scare you to be without it?”
I shrug. “Graham won’t mind tonight. Nothing about me scares him.”
Graham groans and shifts in his sleep.
“What scares you, Rosie?”
Her face drops. I regret my words because I know the answers I want aren’t what I’ll get.
“That I’ll make choices that ruin my daughter’s future.” Her head drops. “Because everything I do is about her.”
She steps away, and I nod. I hate myself for all the fantasies I’ve had about her over the last hour—over the previous eight months since we met. Because where I only have myself to worry about, she’s concerned about someone who relies on her for everything.
“You’re the best mother.” I miss the heat from our connection, but I’m relieved, too. “Is Tabi still having problems with the kids at preschool?”
“You remembered that?”
I nod.
“Yeah. The parents don’t help. Some of them act like I’m beneath them, and maybe their kids pick up on it. My job has helped my confidence, but I’ll never fit in with them. I’m just a former teen mum as far as they’re concerned.”
“You’re an incredible mum and a revelation. You’ve changed my life and brought me back from where I was barelyliving. Please don’t let them make you feel less.” I stare at her, pleading for her to believe in herself like I believe in her.
