Page 51 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Two

She considers my head, narrowing one eye. “And Lo’s right.I’ll edge you up.”

“I always cut my own hair.”

“I can tell.” Her husky chuckle disarms me, rolls over myskin leaving a trail of goose bumps the same way it did when we were eighteenyears old. “You actually do a good job. I’ve neverseen you less than well-groomed. We just want it freshly cutfor the show.”

“When did you see me do a good job? With my hair, I mean.”

The question lands between us with a thud. She’s facing themirror, arranging her tools, and her hands pause for a second. I watch herreflection, the way her expression freezes before sliding into a grimace.

“Oh, um…I saw you on television,” she says, her hands busyagain. “Like a press conference on TV after a game, in a few magazines, sportshighlights. Stuff like that.”

I’m not sure which view I enjoy more. When she’s turned awayfrom me, and I can appreciate the long lines of her legs encased in tight blackdenim, and the two overripe globes of her ass, or the front view. When shefaces me again, my eyes involuntarily drop to her breasts, bigger, rounder thanthey were senior year. To be expected. She’s put on weight in perfect places.Hips, thighs, butt, breasts. I thought she was fantastic before. If possible,she’s bigger and better. Slim and thick. Lush and tight with braids falling tograze the small of her back. Holding her for just a few seconds proved she’s assoft as she looks. She’s not little. Not a woman you’d have to hold back with.Not a girl you’d be afraid to break if you fucked herhard.

It's very quiet with only my lascivious thoughts speaking tome as Takira leans against the small counter, arms folded under her breasts,brows raised.

“Should I turn in a slow circle?” she asks mildly. “In casethere is one part of my body you didn’t get to ogle?Maybe you missed a spot. I’m sure you could accurately guess my cup size bynow.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Oh, you weren’t checking me out?”

“No, I was,” I admit unabashedly. “I was gonna say I actually wasn’t done, so a slow circle would begreat.”

“Oh, my god. You—”

“And I wouldn’t miss a spot.”

That shuts her up. Her pretty, pouty lips purse. Her eyesnarrow before she rolls them and turns back to the mirror and the items spreadout on the counter. She walks behind me to drape a protective plastic cape overmy shoulders. We both fall silent while she edges me up with her clippers, theoccasional brush of her fingers at my neck and ears sending a jolt to my dick.Fortunately, years of discipline playing at an elite level keep me from makinga complete fool of myself. I rest my hands casually in my lap so the slightrise of my erection won’t be too noticeable.

“So you did it, huh?” I ask when she’s finished with my hairand putting the clippers away.

She plucks a case of powder from the array of makeup on thecounter, meeting my eyes briefly in the mirror.

“I did what?” She turns back to me with a wipe in her hand.

“You told me that night before the game you wanted to dohair. Looks like all your dreams came true.”

The wipe she’s gently passing over my face stills at thewords “before the game,” and I kick myself for even bringing it up. She resumeswiping my skin clean and tosses the used wipe to the nearby trash can.

“I still have a few dreams left.” She lifts my chin anddusts my face with powder.

“Is this really necessary?”

“It’s for shine,” she says, smiling but not looking at me,which is good because my gaze is fixed on her breasts at eye level while she’sapplying the powder.

It’s feeling like puberty all over again. I’m not one ofthose ballers who has a different girl every night. I get my share, but it’snever out of control. When I’m fucking someone, I feelgood, of course, but it’s all below the belt. Seeing Takira again stirs otherparts of me, just like she did the one night we had together on that roof. Allthe things I’d like to do to her, with her, run through my mind now like theydid then. Only then they seemed…possible. After what happened at thechampionship game, I thought none of those things could ever happen. Hell,Cliff basically told me they couldn’t. Now, though, all these years later,we’re older, and maybe old wounds have healed enough that new possibilitiescould rise.

“Which dreams do you have left?” I ask, drawing my browstogether when she spreads something cool and gelatinous over them.

“Stop frowning.” She laughs. “I’m trying to set your brows.”

“Completely necessary to walk out there for two minuteswearing whatever Lotus puts on me,” I say wryly. “Which dreams?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” She sighs, pauses, and fixes her eyesover my shoulder, a wistful look settling onto her pretty face. “My own makeup line. A few other things.”

She glances back to me. “What aboutyou? Seems like all your hoops dreams came true.”

“Shiiiiit. This has been betterthan anything I thought I’d ever have. Your brother was the star. I was the backup.”