I feel him shift behind me, but I don’t move, still needing more time. I don’t know if I’m pretending like I did yesterday morning when I woke up in his arms after crying all night, or if this morning's act is a result of what Sy suggested over breakfast yesterday. Lying in his arms, reliving our conversation over and over in my head, I know he’s right. The thought of having a baby nestled back in my belly would be amazing. I just don’t know if I’m ready for it, ready to open myself up to that sort of vulnerability. I know I’ve ached for what we lost, for something I wasn’t sure I even wanted in the first place, but when I told Sy I wasn’t ready, I meant it.
“Are you awake?” His deep, thick voice breaks through my thoughts.
“Yeah,” I reply, giving up my act and turning over his way.
“How are you feeling?” He smiles down at me as I huddle in against his chest, my hand feeling the beat of his heart.
“Let’s not leave here,” I say, telling him how I feel in this moment. We both played hooky yesterday and decided to do the same today. We spent the day lost in our own world, away from everything around us, together trying to repair the broken pieces of what we had built. It’s what we have to do to move on from the lies of the past, what needs to be done to try to find our balance again.
“We have to go back out. You know this,” he says, lifting my chin and forcing me to look up at him. He holds my gaze and I know he can see through my panic.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing, nothing. Just the thought of leaving this apartment is daunting now.”
“You’ve been acting weird since we talked about the baby,” he says, calling me out. Shit.
“I just don't want to rush into anything. We’re still stumbling. Just please don’t put that pressure on me. On us,” I tell him, feeling in over my head. It's just all too much.
“There's no pressure, baby. Just let it be.” He pulls me closer to him. “It's you and me. Whatever happens, we do it together. You got that?” I nod in response, forcing myself to let it go. He's right. There’s no point worrying about it until we have to. I need to put it out of my mind.
“You need a haircut,” I tell him, taking my hand and running it through his longer hair and noticing the messy strands around his ears.
“Yeah and I have this hot woman who apparently cuts hair for living, but she’s always too damn busy,” he jokes, taking my wrist and kissing the inside of it.
“I thought you liked cutting it yourself?”
“I did, but now I’ve got a fine-ass woman like you who does a much better job at it than me, maybe I want you to cut it.”
“Okay, I can cut it,” I tell him, feeling nervous about the task.
“Naked,” he adds as I agree.
“Naked?” I choke out and he growls, no doubt picturing it. “Could you be any more cliché?” His grin tells me he actually finds the idea appealing. The idea of me standing in front of him naked while I cut his hair, would be the best vision ever apparently, if his hard cock pressed against my thigh is anything to go by. I let out an unladylike snort.
“If I cut your hair naked, I would get nothing done,” I tell him, seeing the whole thing play out in my mind. “You wouldn’t be able to keep your hands to yourself.” I speak the truth, knowing more than anything it would end up with me on his lap. Why am I arguing about this again?
“I sure as hell will be able to keep my hands to myself, Holly,” he scoffs and I almost believe him. Almost.
“Wanna bet?” I find myself asking, wanting to prove him wrong.
“You’re on,” he smirks before kissing me hard.
Five minutes later, Sy sits on my dining room chair, my black cape draped around him while I stand there, naked. Completely naked.
“I’ve never done this before. I can’t believe I agreed to this,” I say, picking up my clippers. I try not to let his stare break my concentration, but the tension in the room is building by the minute and I don’t know if I’m going to last.
“Sweetheart, there have been a lot of things I’ve done for the first time with you, but this is by far my favorite,” he rumbles as his gaze burns through me.
“Keep your hands to yourself, Sy,” I demand, my heart rate picking up. Turning the clippers on, I come forward and begin. He doesn’t move or talk, the buzzing sound filling the room. The vibrations of the clippers run up my arm and all through my body. The sensation is so intense I don’t know if the thick tension in the air is causing it, or if it’s from the erotic act as his stare burns through me, but an awareness runs through me that's just as fervid as the buzzing clippers in my hand. I don’t ever want it to stop. I try to keep my body away from him, moving around at arm’s length so he doesn’t touch me, but as I lean over, trying to make sure I get it even, his finger trails along the side of my waist. The feather light graze sends a tingle down my spine, like spurts of electricity jolt through me. Just from one touch.
“No touching, Sy.” My breath comes out choppy as I warn him. I then lean further over him hoping he does cave because the ache between my legs is becoming desperate.
“I’m struggling, Holly,” he growls. The rumble of his frustration goes straight to the throbbing in my core, setting me on fire.
“You’re going to lose.” I sashay my hips and move to his other side. The throb between my legs has taken on its own pulse and squeezing my thighs together only makes it worse.
“I don’t think I can keep that promise,” he admits, ripping the cape off then pulling me to his lap.
“Sy,” I laugh, twisting to face him.
“Fuck, you’re sexy,” he says, dropping his mouth to mine. Flicking the power off on the clippers, I let them drop to the floor.
“Your haircut is going to be uneven now,” I tell him as he trails kisses down my neck and his finger spreads me open and slides through my wetness.
“Jesus, woman, I hope you don’t treat all your clients like this.”
“Only the special ones,” I yelp as he nips at my neck, slides two thick fingers into me and then removes them in a slow and deliberate pace. The pleasure and pain that Sy brings me only makes me want him more.
“I am special,” he says, taking his finger to his mouth, and slowly sliding it past his lips. “Fuck, you taste so sweet,” he groans, closing his eyes and dropping his head back in total satisfaction. I laugh at his reaction. I've never had a man be so vocal and expressive. “Why are you laughing?” His head comes up.
“Because you’re sexy, sweet and cute,” I tell him and I know he won't like the words I've used to describe my man.
“I’m not fucking cute,” he mumbles, making me laugh louder.
“You’re amazing,” I tell him, this time kissing him hard.
“I ain't that either.”
“Sy, you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever known. What you have experienced in your life is what gives you that hard exterior, but deep down in here—” I pat his chest, “—is what I see when we are alone. It all makes you the amazing man you are, and those qualities are why I fell in love with you.” I look at him, hoping he sees what I feel.
“This,” he places his hand over mine, “is only better when I’m with you, baby.” He leans forward and kisses me. He makes me fall in love with him more when he says things like this. Soon, we’ll be going back to work, back to the clubhouse and our families, and then this Sy will only come out in the privacy of his room or my apartment. So, I’m going to enjoy every moment of it while we can.
“I think you need to pay me in sexual favors for your haircut,” I laugh, bringing us back to the playful side I love most about us.
“I'm on it, baby.” He stands, holding me in his arms and walks down the hall, back to my bed. “What's the damage?” he asks, playing along.
“Four orgasms, please.” I hold my straight face.
“You greedy minx,” he growls, dropping me down on the bed. “I'll give you two with my mouth, and two with my cock,” he tells me, dropping to his knees.