Page 20 of Purrfectly Trapped

A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. She really needed to get laid if she was going to fantasize about every man who walked into her salon.

Not every man, inner her replied.Just him.

Fucking fuck. It was gonna be a long day.

ChapterSeven

By the time she was done cutting the hair on his head, Reg had to admit he looked about a million times better. He would never underestimate the skills of a unisex hairstylist again.

She was an absolute genius. With nimble and efficient swipes of her shears, Gretchen had cut and groomed his unruly locks to perfection. She’d shaved the sides and back all the way to the skin on his scalp. Leaving the top long enough to reach his chin.

He’d never have dared go so short on his own, but he had to admit, he loved it. It revealed the tattoo on the back of his neck, making it look even better in his opinion. His regular barber, Lou, was old school.

Everyone pretty much got the same fade, but Gretchen here gave him an edge with this style haircut. She’d made him look good in a way that was reminiscent of modern soccer players everywhere. He kinda dug the sport.

Especially, after Hunter had organized an in-Pride version of the World Cup last summer. It was awesome, and Reg’s team had won with a single glorious goal made by Mikey in the last ninety seconds of the match. Brayden, who’d played goalkeeper for the opposing team, had been super pissed.

Good times, he smirked. He was more focused on the present, which was much more interesting in his opinion, than on replaying that soccer match in his head.

The ever lovely Gretchen was running her hands through his hair again and the platonic contact shot straight to his dick. Thank fuck the cape he wore covered that part of him.

She seemed to like the length on top and was busy focusing on the thick and long hair, pulling it forward in glossy waves. Thankfully, she didn’t leave them there. He’d worried at first that he was going to get itchy with his hair in his face, but he hadn’t wanted to offend her.

He’d fucking glue it there if she wanted him to, but the sexy woman seemed to sense that. Watching his reaction in the mirror, she smirked and used a little product then tossed the thick waves back off his forehead. He liked that even better.

Every time she moved her fingers through his hair, he got a whiff of her intoxicating scent. His Tiger, ever present, was surer than he’d ever been since he first set eyes on her that she was meant to be his.

“Now for that beard,” Gretchen muttered, moving to stand in front of him.

This female was his fated mate. It was enough to blow his head clean off. He wanted to sing and dance and scream all at the same time. Well, mostly, he wanted to toss her fine ass over his shoulder and run away with her. It was a near thing.

She was so close, right there, scant inches away, and yet, she didn’t seem to be affected at all.

Sure, Reg had expected to be mated to a Shifter, but maybe that was prejudiced of him. Elissa had been a human before the Puspa, and he assumed Gretchen was too, but maybe he was wrong.

Could she be descended from a line of Witches? He would have guessed she was something magical, for sure, just by the way she seemed to have him mesmerized. But so far, he’d been unable to identify exactly what if any supernatural heritage, the little vixen had in her blood line.

He blamed it on the styling products and cleaning solutions that were thick in the air. Worse now that more people surrounded them. After she’d shampooed and conditioned his hair, her staff had started to arrive. They made the introduction and went to work cleaning and getting their stations ready.

After that, a steady stream of clients had signed in and were waiting their turns patiently, using the time to gossip and catch up. He’d heard their idle chit chat like a dull buzzing in the background, but his focus was on Gretchen herself.

She was a puzzle. A total mystery to him. One he desperately wanted to solve. Reg needed to. He just had to know everything about her.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” she apologized, returning after stopping to show one of the new employees how to use the credit card machine.

His sweet Gretchen, whatever she was, was not only gorgeous, he realized, but she was smart and funny. A real people person and terrific with her employees who seemed to warm to her immediately.

“No really, thank you for being so sweet,” she said, and he wanted to yowl in pleasure.

She thinks I’m sweet. How about that?!

“I can’t tell you how embarrassed I am at the amount of times I’ve had to stop. If you like, I can have one of the other stylists finish the job,” she started.

Hell to the no.

There was only one person he wanted touching his hair, his face,any part of him, and that was her.

“Thank you for offering,shona. But no, I’ll wait for you. However long it takes,” he murmured.

---