Page 100 of Dad Next Door

“Lydia revamped her skincare routine when we turned thirty-five and gifted me, like, twelve bottles of products and a list of steps that were more complicated than some of my chemistry experiments in college.” I pulled off dropper out of the retinol bottle and sniffed it. “And most of the stuff she gave me smelled like a perfume factory exploded in the bottle. This one is nice. It doesn’t really smell like anything.”

“I don’t use products with fragrance in them. I like them on other people, but I don’t need my face to smell like an ocean breeze or a vanilla candle when I work outside all day.” He held out his hand for the bottle. “Would you like a demonstration?”

I gave it to him. “I might need one. I always use way too much of this kind of stuff and end up wasting it or looking like I just dipped my face in a deep fryer.”

He snickered and pulled the stopper out of the top, the cylinder half full of the serum. “Do you mind if I put it on you? That way you can see for yourself how it’s done?”

I nodded, my heart fluttering in my chest.

We’d just had sex and showered together, but my stomach was going all gooey, and my fanciful brain was getting excited about him putting a skincare serum on me?

Jesus, I needed to get a grip.

“This is how I do things.” He held the tip of the dropper over my forehead and let a drop fall on me. “I’m sure if I made a TikTok or an Insta reel of my routine, my comments would be filled with people telling me everything I’m doing wrong.” He did the same on each of my cheekbones. “But it works for me, and I can’t find any science that says it’s harmful, so I’m sticking with it.” He added a tiny drop to my chin and closed the bottle.

I stood stock-still as he put the bottle down, then lifted his hands like he was showing them to me.

“Do you want me to use a roller? I know my mitts are a bit rough.”

“It’s fine.” I let out a choked laugh that sounded more like a cough. “I don’t mind rough.”

He smirked. “That’s what he said.”

My laugh was cut short when he gently smoothed his fingers over the dots of serum on my face, softly working it into my skin.

Our eyes locked, and this time I didn’t doubt the heat I saw in them.

He cleared his throat and dropped his hands. “Now the cream.”

Gingerly, I touched my cheek. The serum had completely absorbed, and my skin felt soft and a bit dewy, not wet or oily.

“So, less is more?” I asked, needing to break the tension.

“Yup. Especially with retinol. Too much can irritate your skin.” He unscrewed the tub of cream. “Same with this stuff. I know people who cake it onto their face like those old cold creams from back in the day, but I prefer to not feel my skincare after I put it on.”

He scooped some of the cream up with his fingers and stepped closer.

My breath caught as he dotted the cream over the same places he’d put the serum.

“Then you just rub it in.” He smoothed his hands over my cheeks and forehead, his voice barely above a whisper.

His hands stilled and we both froze, caught in some sort of feedback loop or shared daze.

Quinn cleared his throat and stepped back. “Guess I have to add skincare to my list of things I didn’t realize could be sexy.” He waved at the huge bulge under his towel.

“You should post that. It’s a work of art.”

He froze, then the corner of his mouth curled up in his trademark smirk-smile. “Yeah? You wouldn’t mind?”

“Why would I mind?”

“It’s hang out with my boyfriend before bed time, not make thirst traps in the bathroom time.”

“No reason those can’t overlap.” Reaching out, I stroked my hand over his length.

He groaned and pressed into my touch.

“Besides, it’s a massive ego boost to know you’re posting a stiffy inspired by yours truly while your fans drool over you from afar. They wish this was for them. I know it’s because of me.”

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