Page 16 of Starlight Salon

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Page 16 of Starlight Salon

Lachlan hauls me as close as possible before my legs hit the chair and then keeps pulling. I squeak when he tugs me onto his lap and arranges me until I’m straddling him, knees touching his hips, his arms wrapped around my waist and head ducking to lock eyes with me. “I have a secret.”

“What?” I say breathlessly.

“I carry hair ties around for you.”

I jerk back in surprise, but he pulls me back. “What do you mean?”

“You never carry them, but you hate having your hair out when you finish work. I started carrying them in case you ever needed one. I went to a shop and found the pinkest ones they had. I even asked what the best were for hair and they said silk.” He runs a hand over my hair, bumping the bun at the nape of my neck. “I might need to start carrying clips.” He brushes a gentle finger through my new fringe. “This already annoys you and you only cut it two days ago.”

He bought hair ties for me. Because he noticed I prefer having my hair up. And silk ones, not cheap hair ties that rip out your hair.

“You don’t like it?” I wriggle closer until my chest touches his. He’s also totally right, the fringe is annoying.

“You look gorgeous, but I don’t like it when you’re uncomfortable.” He swings the chair gently and analyses my station. I keep quiet, interested in what he’s looking for. His eyes lock on the pink alligator clips I used to section his hair. He grabs them and opens them gently to clip my fringe out of the way.

I glimpse myself in the mirror with hair sticking out the side of my head and roll my eyes. “So sexy.”

“You are.” He nudges his nose against mine.

My heart speeds up, and I grip his newly styled hair. Licking my lips is what does it. Lachlan presses his lips to mine and I melt against him. He’s warm and comforting, and he cups my cheek, running his thumb along my cheekbone. I yank him closer and lick the seam of his mouth. He groans, deep and gravelly, and crushes me to him. Dragging my hands down his shoulders to his chest, I brush his nipples before returning to his hair. Knowing I cut it, that I’m the reason it’s sticking up all ruffled does something to me. I’m burning between my legs.

Lachlan traces his hands up and down my thighs, causing me to make small circles on his lap, desperate for his hands to move higher.

“Can I, sweetheart? Can I make you feel good? Like you do for me?” His fingers circle closer to the crease of my thighs in a maddening tease.

“Washing your hair is hardly the same.”

“Having you here is enough to make me feel good.” He kisses me again, his tongue brushing mine while he moves closer and closer to the pulsing between my legs.

I suck on his lip and breathe, “Okay.” For once, something good comes from the weather and loose clothing. Easy access.

Shivers race through me as he shifts my skirt upwards, trailing his hands up my calves and settling on my thighs.

“Hold this for me, baby.” He hands me the gathered fabric and I hold it out of his way so my black underwear is visible. Why don’t I own lace underwear?

Finally, he stops his circles on the crease of my thighs and brushes a hand over my pelvis. Too high to give true pleasure, but I still shiver and jolt closer to him from the touch. He trails a finger down, dodging my clit and landing on the damp spot on my underwear. I growl when he doesn’t move.

“So wet?” he asks, voice tinged in disbelief.

I shrug. “I like touching you.”

He devours my mouth and brushes a thumb across my clit in reward. Fabric dulls the pleasure, but I chase the feeling and thrust against him, dropping the hand holding the skirt to keep his hand where I want it.

“Demanding little thing, aren’t you? Where’s your patience?”

“Down the sink thirty minutes ago,” I pant.

“You lasted longer than me.”

My eyes widen at his admission, he was turned on when I massaged him. “The cape covered you.”

He hands me the skirt again and sneaks a finger past my underwear. “Were you looking at me? Were you disappointed you couldn’t see anything?”

I suck in a breath when he brushes my clit without fabric dulling the sensation. Calloused hands scrape against me deliciously. “Yes. Do that again.”

“Trying to see if I was hard for you?” His other hand leaves my waist and brushes over my shirt to rub my nipple.

“Yes.” My hips rock on his finger and I gasp at the sensation.




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