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“Lock the door behind him,” Hunter called out.
Frankie hugged me once more and left. I double-checked the locks, straightened my spine, and returned to the living room. I pushed the bedroom door wide open and stilled. Hunter lay naked on the bed, with a towel over his head and another one tenting over his hips.
“I can feel you staring.” His voice rumbled through the air.
“I want to see your hair.”
“After you’re done. I’m afraid if I look at you… Well, it’s just better with my eyes covered.”
I cleared my throat. “All right. Don’t move.”
As I approached the bed, he turned into the same statue I’d met at the salon and didn’t budge. I grabbed the trimmers and removed the towel from his hips. His cock lay long and thick, curving up to the V near the hip bone. I touched near his navel, and his dick flexed.
“Please, make it quick.”
Yet I just wanted to take my sweet time.
CHAPTER 5
HUNTER
“Okay, time for thebigreveal.” Her voice pitched.
I smirked underneath the towel. Sixty long minutes had passed before I moved a muscle. Well, all except one muscle. I’d experienced torture before, but nothing close to the torment Grace’s fingers evoked when she moved my cock to one side, then the other. And she repeated the motion a few times, eyeing the area, until I stood tall and proud, giving her access to my fucking pubes. She raked her fingers through the hair growth around my dick, and I was gone. That had been fifty-nine and a half minutes ago, and I was still hard. And my balls ached.
“Come on, Hunter. Take the towel off your face. I want to see your cut.”
And I wanted to see her. I wanted to see when she finally recognized the man who’d left her. But through those agonizing fifty-nine and a half fucking minutes, as she breathed hot and heavy over my balls, trimming them, I wanted her to forget that same man. I willed my dick to lower, but Grace’s touch won.
Distant nerves rolled down my spine before I tugged at the towel’s corner. Grace was standing near the bed. Her gaze slithered over my body as mine did over hers. She was wearing a tank top, with her bra sticking out above the neckline, and skin-tight shorts. Or maybe underwear? I scanned back up to her engorged breasts, full lips, and wide eyes, which painted a picture of a wanton woman. And those fucking glasses were like a fantasy. My dick filled with more blood.
“Hunter.” She covered her mouth with her hand. “You… You look good.”
She stepped closer, her breasts and protruding nipples in line with my eyes, and she touched my beard. An itch crawled its way up my cheek, and I wished she’d tug it.
“Frankie did well with the trim.”
“Let me see.”I sat up and slipped off the bed, past Grace to the full-length mirror on the wall. The clown cut was gone and… Fuck, I’d aged. I hadn’t seen this face in five years and barely recognized the jawline. I pulled my fingers through the shorter cut and stepped away from the mirror. The side view of a damaged body, overworked but manicured, was reflected back. It had been a while since I’d seen that man. Actually, I wasn’t sure whether I’d ever seen him before.
“You look good.”
“You said that already.” My biceps flexed, and my dick hardened into a rod.Fuck, I looked good.
“I mean, real good.”
Her tongue clicked, catching my attention, and I laughed.
“Thanks.”
Her cheeks flushed bright pink. “I’m sorry. It’s just that a lot has happened in the past twenty-four hours. The attack and the spa and the attack and…and you’re back.”
She stared at me like a lost deer in the woods, her long lashes fluttering for answers. Where was the confidant woman I remembered?
I faced the mirror. “Frankie’s not the only one who trims well. I look larger. You trimmed me the way you like me.”
Her head flew up. “What?”
“The manscape.” I turned back to face her and pointed to my crotch, instantly feeling her eyes on my hard dick. “It’s the same way you used to trim me.”
