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But now I am.
I caress the curves of her cleavage with my gaze and my cock strains against the tightness of my jeans.
“Don’t wear such low-cut dresses,” I barely keep my voice steady.
“I’ll wear what I damn well please. Especially when I’m doing this off-the-clock.”
I doubt Peri has ever clocked in. She worked for the family shortly as a teenager and has been her own boss her whole life.
“Whatever,” is my brilliant reply as my eyes screw themselves shut as I try to will the blood out of my dick.
She’s leaning against me again.
So close.
I can smell her soap mixing in with the rain’s earthy scent. She’s no longer working on my scalp but is moving on to the thick mass I call a beard, hanging from my jaw. Shaping it, getting sharp lines on my cheeks.
It gets worse. No, it’s better. Better or worse, depending on one’s opinion. For me, trying not to lose a load in my jeansjust from the touch of my best friend means I fall in the worse category. But better because with my eyes closed, I’m no longer seeing the assets she’s been blessed with. I’m only imagining them and how soft they are.
I snap my eyes open when her knuckles brush my lips for what feels like the hundredth time. In the blind of an eye, my hands clamp around her wrists and I yank them back. I’m panting and hard over something as simple as a haircut.
Looking her over… I quickly realize I might not be alone in how I feel. Peri’s chest is flushed, her eyes are soft, and the storm can’t drown out the rapid little breaths she’s taking.
She’s panting too?
Her breasts are flushed a dappled pink and as I let my eyes drift lower, I can see further down her top. Beautiful full breasts sway as she trembles and squirms to be free of my hold on her. But it isn’t just the fullness of her breasts that catches my eye. It’s also the pert nipples as pink as her luscious lips, standing at attention as much as my dick is.
Our eyes meet in a flash, and she gives a hard yank to be free of me.
Peri shuffles backward toward the front door. I follow her in just a few long strides, trapping her between me and the wood at her back.
“Orion…” My name is like a wish from her lips. And at this moment, I’ll give her anything.
Anything at all.
In an instant, I’m on her. I claim her lips hard and the heavens align. They’re as pillowy and soft as I imagined.
More… much more.
It’s a whirlwind as wicked as the storm building around us. She follows as I lead, taking her through the wicked tango dance of our lips. Just as my hands are filling with her backside, hiking her dress higher and higher… she’s gone.
She ducks out of my grasp, sprinting down the porch steps to her car. I shout after her, but every word is lost in the ear-piercing roar of thunder.
What the hell is happening?
PERI
I barrel into my car, blinded by so many things. Mainly blindsided by what the hell just happened on the porch. I’m not a hairdresser and maybe that’s a good thing. I’ve never been so hot and heavy while manicuring a German Shepherd, that’s for certain.
I go to start the car and realize all I’ve done is barricaded myself into the space. My keys, phone, purse… all of it is inside the cabin. But I can’t go back there. I don’t know what will happen. More importantly, I’m scared at what Iwantto have happen.
Shit, I can’t stop shaking.
A scream rips from my throat when a fist pounds on my rain-streaked window. It’s Orion. Okay, so he can obviously see me, but I want to ignore him. I want to go home and curl up under the big quilt my grandma made me when I was a little girl, to soothe me during and after bad storms and during times of upheaval and pain, and sort this out slowly. Piece myself back together after that collision of mind, body, and soul wrecked me.
“Peri! Open the door, Peri. We need to talk,” Orion shouts, hand pressing into the window.
“No,” I shout, shaking my head wildly. My hair is as emotional as me, frazzled and frizzy.
