Page 19 of Purrfectly Trapped

They were solid and big, rough, but not careless. She wondered what it would feel like if he touched her with intent with those big man’s hands of his.

Short, blunt nails topped each finger. They were surprisingly clean, cuticles and all. Gretchen could almost imagine the way they would tease and caress her most secret places. Her girly bits tingled, as if her whole body was blushing with awareness.

Did it just get really hot in here?

Gretchen tried not to stare as she adjusted the height of the chair. Hell, what good was not staring when he smelled better than a tray of double fudge brownies?

Whatever soap he used, she would swear there were hints of cocoa and vanilla bean. He smelled delicious.Good enough to nibble, she thought outrageously.

Her cheeks heated, and she knew she was blushing for real now. Biting her lip, she scolded herself. That was no way to think of a client.

It was time to get to work and stop this ridiculous fantasy of hers. She took his head in her hands and straightened it, using her fingers to brush back his rich, dark locks. With his hair combed out of the way, she finally got a good look at his face.

Dayum.

Reg Cray, whoever he was, was hot. Like really hot. Like really, really, someone get a fire extinguisher hot. When she was a teenager, she recalled crushing on movie and rock stars, but Reg was even better looking than them.

His nose was long and straight, but not too big. It fit his chiseled features, accented by his sharp cheekbones and a square jaw. His skin was tanned from the sun, like a golden honey color, but she could tell he was fair in winter. That hair of his was the real clincher though. His dark brown mop was unruly, but even that could not disguise the thick and glossy layers to his mane.

She wondered if he had any Latin or Italian blood. He must have to give him such gorgeous coloring. Her favorite feature were his eyes.

Lawd, have mercy.

Dark and glittering, his gorgeous eyes sparkled out at her through thick black lashes, like sapphires on a velvet swatch. Bedroom eyes if she ever saw a pair.

Beautiful.Sexy too.

There was no doubt about it. This guy was completely out of her league. Depressing as the thought was, it allowed her to focus as she lifted her comb and began creating sections out of the long tresses.

“Now, what has you making such a sad face, Gretchen? My hair can’t be that bad, can it?” he asked, joking with her. Gretchen lifted her head up and met his unwavering stare in the mirror.

“What? Oh, no, sorry, it’s nothing,” she replied, and smiled tightly. She went back to paying attention to what she was doing.

More hair, less stare.

There was no reason on earth for her thoughts to turn so personal. He was a client, not a potential hubby on her own personal version oftheBachelor.

“Okay, here is what I have in mind,” she talked, wanting his approval while she began trimming his locks with a scissor at first.

“You can do anything you want to me,” Reg said, eyes glowing.

A shiver ran through her. If only he knew what she wanted to do, she thought wickedly.

“You got it,” Gretchen replied, lifting her trimmer.

Last, she’d use a straight razor, but she’d wait to show him her skill with the blade. Concentrating was a bitch, but she’d get through it.

He was just a man, for fuck’s sake. A cute man, but a stranger, and more importantly, acustomer.

That was all he was to her. Nothing special. Not fate or kismet. Just a client.

Liar,her inner voice whispered in her head and Gretchen almost dropped her shears.

That voice in her head could be such a heifer sometimes. She cleared her throat and got back to work, when she was done, Reginald Cray was going to look like a million dollars.

And then what?She wondered to herself. Of course, inner Gretchen had an answer.

Lick him. Then hang a sign around his neck that says property of Gretchen Kaepernick.

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