Chapter 29 #2
With the exception of a few nights where we fell asleep by accident, I hadn’t slept in the bed with her. Even though we’d had sex, I always slept on the couch. Some nights, I would hold her until she fell asleep, then I’d ease off the mattress and go back to the couch.
She never brought it up. I justified it in my mind, saying that it was practical. I’d have to get up and make my rounds. I didn’t want to wake her.
But that wasn’t it at all.
I loved her, and I was terrified of it.
But as much as I was scared of her, she wasn’t scared of me. Never had been. That’s what was most terrifying of all. She saw me. Truly saw me.
Not sleeping beside her in bed upheld one of the few remaining boundaries between us.
“Okay,” I agreed with a solemn nod.
The cabin was sparsely furnished, which didn’t give us many options for a makeshift salon. I resorted to sitting on the floor with a towel around my shoulders like a cape while Amelia stood behind me with the clippers.
She was silent as she adjusted the guard setting and turned them on.
I closed my eyes, losing myself in the hypnotic buzz as she began to cut my hair.
The tender, methodical motions of her hand smoothing down each pass to brush away the long strands was more potent than any sedative.
Being touched so tenderly was more intimate than sex.
“All done.”
I hadn’t even realized the clippers were off. Amelia carefully pulled the towel from my shoulders so cut hair wouldn’t get all over me.
“Want to go check it in the mirror?”
I was in a daze as I made my way to the bathroom. Was this what Amelia had felt like when I knocked her out with chloroform?
The person staring back at me in the mirror wasn’t the man I was today. It was the boy who had buzzed his head long ago to go to boot camp.
I’d always wanted to become the man that younger me would have idolized.
I had become a man, but not one I was proud of.
“I guess there’s no time like the present,” Amelia said as she carried the boxes of hair dye over and lingered in the doorframe. “How’d I do?”
I swallowed and smoothed my hand over the short cut. “Looks good. Thank you.”
She read through the instructions on the box again. “I’ve never dyed my hair. Who knows—I might end up with a buzz cut too.”
I took the box from her. “Let me.”
Miraculously, the two of us managed to squeeze into the bathroom. Amelia stood in front of the mirror while I carefully brushed her hair, starting at the ends and making my way up the length. Her eyes closed just like mine had, savoring the tenderness of the moment.
“It feels good to have someone else brush your hair,” she said softly. “You’re good at it.”
I set the brush in the sink and pressed my lips to her temple. “I’ll always do my best for you.”
Her lips turned up. “That’s why I’m trusting you to dye my hair.”
Amelia stood stock-still as I mixed the color and developer in the little bottle that came in the box, then donned the latex gloves I had pulled out of the first aid kit. I hated the disposable poly gloves that came in the hair dye box.
If we made it out of this, I’d have to come back to restock the place in case Cole ever had to use it.
I used pencils and pens to section her hair and secure it out of the way so I could work layer by layer. Her button nose wrinkled as the acrid scent poked and prodded at her senses. One by one, I let the sections of long blonde hair fall and carefully worked the color into the strands.
Once her whole head was covered, I scooped her hair up into a makeshift bun and used one of the plastic grocery bags as a shower cap.
“You know, it really seems like you’ve done this before.”
I smiled to myself. “A time or two.”
“When?” she asked with a laugh.
I winked as I opened the box of black dye I had picked out for myself.
“Classified.” The process of dyeing my hair was much faster than Amelia’s since I had less than a centimeter of hair to cover.
By the time I cleaned up the hair from my haircut and disposed of the boxes of color, gloves, and dye bottles, it was time to rinse it out.
I pulled off my clothes, then helped Amelia out of hers, careful not to mar them with dye.
“This isn’t as sexy as I thought showering with a man was supposed to be,” Amelia joked as the two of us crammed into the shower.
I stuck my head under the showerhead first, quickly rinsing the color out as her brows lifted.
“Wow.”
“Wow good or wow bad?”
Her eyes creased at the corners. “You look so different. Still like you, though. But different.”
I swept my hands over her water-speckled shoulders and swapped places with her. “Let me rinse your hair.”
“I can—”
“Please,” I added.
Pale blue eyes lifted to mine. “Okay.”
While she stood under the spray, I worked my hands through her hair, massaging her scalp and working the color out.
Amelia’s eyes were closed as she leaned backward, her ass bumping against my dick. I was so hard it fucking ached, but I kept my cool.
“That feels so good,” she murmured as her spine connected with my torso.
I wrapped my arms around Amelia, holding her tightly against my body as her head tipped back onto my chest.
I smoothed one hand down her stomach to cup her pussy and slid the other across her breasts.
The hum that slipped from her lips was deliriously indecent. “Love your hands,” she murmured as I toyed with her nipples and clit. “Love the way they make me feel.”
Water sprayed on my face as I turned her toward me, then backed her up against the shower wall and slanted my mouth over hers. “Say it again,” I whispered.
She swallowed the request in a kiss. “I’m in good hands.” And like she knew I needed to hear it, she tacked on, “Because you’re a good man, Jude Greear.”
Dr. Amelia Hawthorne was going to be the death of me. The fucking death of me.
I released her breast and wrapped her wet hair around my fist. “Where do you want my hands, sweetheart?”
She tilted her head back, straightened her spine, and closed her eyes. “Everywhere.”
I still couldn’t believe that, after everything, Amelia trusted me the way she did. But just for a moment, I let myself lean on the delusion. I tugged her head back, released her hair, and shackled her throat to the wall with my hand. “Like that?”
Her mouth parted in a gasp. I stole the opening and slid my thumb between her lips. “Suck. Show me what you’d do if I put my cock in that pretty mouth.”
Her eyes went wide, but she closed her lips around my thumb, swirled her tongue like she was tasting my cock for the first time, and fucking moaned like she loved the appetizer but couldn’t wait for the main course.
I teased the slit of her pussy before sliding two fingers inside of her.
So fucking wet already. Amelia’s knees buckled.
She started to tip toward me, but I pulled my thumb from her mouth and kept her pinned to the wall with my chest on hers.
I rolled my thumb across her clit as I stroked her fluttering inner muscles.
“That feel good?”
“Yes.” She leaned forward and rested her forehead on my shoulder like she trusted me implicitly. Amelia knew I wouldn’t let her slip. She’d never fall with me. She’d never get hurt.
I’d give her all my goodness—what I had left of it anyway.
Her high-pitched whine was desperate as I slowly eased her toward an orgasm. “Jude?”
“Hmm?”
She gasped as I added a third finger, choking on her breath as she adjusted to the stretch. “What happens after this?”
“You come. We dry off.”
The shake of her head was accompanied by a whimper. “After Vegas. What happens to us?”
I didn’t want to think about it, but it was a constant question. I knew exactly what would happen to us after Vegas. She’d pay up with her winnings and walk away.
I wouldn’t.
Simple as that.
I tried to work through every potential alternative, but there were none. I’d backed myself into a corner for her.
And I’d do it again and again and again.
There was no instance where I wouldn’t sacrifice myself for her. Not one.
“Don’t think about that,” I said as I cupped her breast. “Just trust me like you are right now.”
Either she did or she was too lust-drunk to make sense of what I was saying. After this, things would get vastly more complicated. But right now, I wanted to be who she believed I was.
Good.
I held her to the wall and slowly pumped my fingers in and out of her, mimicking my cock. The sweet nothings on her lips were music to my ears.
“Atta girl,” I soothed. “I’ve got you. Come for me. Don’t fight it.”
She didn’t have to be told twice. Amelia shattered in my arms, nearly collapsing on my chest as she stole every bit of goodness I had.