He then patiently, and rather thoroughly, explained all that was to happen to Josette and myself at that “spa.”
“To end,” he concluded. “I’m a dude. Dudes these days do this kinda thing. Have pedicures. Get shit shaped. I am not that kind of dude. I’m also not the kind of dude that hangs with his woman while she has it done. If you’re anxious, I’m here, won’t step a foot out that door if you need me to stay. But if I didn’t think it would all be good, I wouldn’t even consider leaving. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I nodded. “I understand, Noc.”
“So you want me to stay or can I go?”
I stared into his eyes as his words tumbled in my head.
I am not that kind of dude.
You want me to stay or can I go?
Can I go?
But he would stay.
For me, he would stay.
“I’m exceptionally fond of you, Noctorno Hawthorne,” I blurted.
His face blanked momentarily in surprise before the blank vanished and his gaze took on a heat I’d only thus far felt from him during loveplay.
“For future reference,” he rumbled, “you look at me like that while you say shit to me like that, you do it in a place that at the very least has a relatively private broom closet so I can take you there and fuck you against the wall.”
I swayed into him, lifting a hand to clutch his shirt to help hold me up as his words coursed up my legs to target the area between them.
This they did.
With precision.
“Yeah?” he pushed on a growl.
“Yes, Noc.”
“Now, do you want me to stay?”
“No, darling. I think Josette and I can manage.”
“Right,” he muttered, sounding perturbed, looking stimulated, and dropping his mouth to mine for a hard, closed-mouth kiss before he lifted an inch away. “Text me when you’re almost done, I’ll come get you, take you both to lunch then the mall. Good?”
I nodded. “Good.”
He looked over my head and then at me. “You’ll love it, sweetheart. Just relax and have fun.”
I nodded again.
His heated gaze shifted just to warmth. “I can go but only if you let go of my shirt.”
“Oh!” I cried, letting him go and watching my hand smooth his attractive shirt against his chest.
This was a mistake, seeing as his chest under his shirt was so warm…and so hard.
I pulled my hand away.
“Late lunch, early dinner, we tuck Josette away, back to my place for another marathon,” he stated roughly and again I lifted my eyes to his.
Warmth gone, heat back.
“Marathon?” I asked, fighting against melting from his heat.
“Do you have those in your world?” he queried in return.
“Running? Yes, there are games in Hawkvale where athletes from all over the Northlands—”
“Our marathon will not be running,” he promised.
My “Oh,” that time was much softer.
“Fuck, she says ‘oh’ and I’m in danger of coming in my pants,” he groused, looking annoyed.
I felt my eyes round before I felt my lids get heavy and my mouth get soft.
I watched as Noc took in my look and appeared to grow even more annoyed.
“Gone,” he grunted abruptly. Lifting a hand to snatch me around the back of the head, he bent it down, kissed the top, tangled his fingers in my hair and pulled it back. He bent in again to brush his lips against mine. “Text me,” he demanded, let me go and then he sauntered rather aggressively to and out the door without even glancing at Josette in farewell.
This was rude but I didn’t have it in me to consider that as I was at that moment memorizing his aggressive gait because it was such an agreeable sight, I never wanted to forget it.
Once I realized I was staring longingly at the door, I shook myself out of it, turned and saw the woman behind the desk who had greeted us as we’d walked in, as well as Josette, were both staring at the door.
Longingly.
This made me smile.
Exultantly.
I moved toward Josette.
The sooner we had our this-world treat, the sooner we’d again be with Noc.
So it was time to get started.
* * * * *
“Look at this. Look…at…this!” Josette demanded, striding into the lounge with its comfortable furnishings that was the waiting area of the spa.
I looked at this, “this” being her flipping her hair out at both sides with her hands then shaking it with her head tipped back.
She did not have a man who demanded her hair stay long so it had been cut to be just longer than her shoulders and styled in soft curls that were most becoming. Not to mention, as if by magic, blonde streaks had been added changing the color but a nuance, but that nuance was most appealing.
She righted her head and smiled hugely at me.
“It’s a miracle!” she cried.
It was, indeed, a very attractive hairstyle.
“You look lovely, my dear.”
She got close to where I was sitting, bent over me and started plucking carefully at my hair with expert attentiveness. “Gads, Franka, I see what they’ve done. Released some of the buoyancy by cutting layers into the length to take off the weight. Extraordinary,” she breathed, leaned back and examined my face. “And your brows are quite lovely, arched like that. All in all, I must say, you look even more beautiful than normal,” she declared. “Mas…I mean, Noc will be even more enamored with you when he sees you.”
I had no doubt this would be true.
And the reason why was not my hairstyle, which was really quite lovely, a change but not much of one, however it made an impact. Or my brows, which were always arched but the delicate sweep of them now was most effective.