Page 22 of Purrfectly Trapped

“There, all done,” she said, and pulled back way too soon for his liking. She quickly returned, thank fuck, and wiped away the remaining shave butter with a warm, damp towel.

Next, she splashed a little aftershave on his skin that made him tingle. Or was that her?

“I mix this myself with some essential oils that are good for tightening pores and nourishing the skin,” she said.

“That’s good,” he muttered, not really sure what the hell he was saying. He just wanted her to never stop petting him like that.

She pursed her lips, trying not to grin, and he noticed the cutest little dimple at the corner of her mouth. Totally kissable. He couldn’t wait to test that theory himself.

She was talking again though, and he brought his attention back to her. Nodding as if he had any clue what she’d been saying. Not like he could just admit he’d gotten side-tracked with thoughts of kissing her mouth, her breasts,fuck, everywhere. There he went again. Reg was having a difficult time keeping his one track mind out of the gutter.

“It’s completely natural with bergamot, peppermint, and eucalyptus essential oils. All great for healing, and moisturizing the skin,” she explained as she rubbed the oil onto his neck and face.

Dear gods, if she didn’t stop touching him, he’d never be able to stand up again.

Might as well accept the fact he was going to have to live with a permanent hardon until he found a moment to speak to her about their situation. But how did he go about that exactly?

“Okay, so, just meet me at the counter when you’re ready, and I will ring you up,” she said, and unsnapped the cape, shaking the stray hair onto the floor.

She spun around grabbing the broom and swept the floor around the chair. Reg stood up and rearranged his t-shirt, making sure to drape over the obvious bulge in his pants.

Hopefully, he did it in time to save himself some embarrassment. Of course, Marion had turned at that very moment and winked at him. Reg just shook his head.

Gretchen was already finished, placing the broom and dustpan against the wall as she handed him a piece of paper with the price of the haircut and shave scrawled across it. He reached into his back pocket for his wallet and waited until she was looking at him to take the plunge.

“Hey, uh, Gretchen?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh, I was wondering if you would go out with me, like tonight,” he blurted as she ran his credit card through the machine.

“Excuse me?” she asked, pausing with his card in her hand. Her baby blues were open wide, and her plump pink lips parted slightly.

She looked so fucking sexy. He wanted to reach over, grab her by the face and kiss the fuck out of her until they were both panting with need.

“Sorry, I---”

“No, it’s me. You see, I’m trying to ask you out and doing a bad job of it, I guess. But what do you say?”

Reg rubbed the back of his neck.

“Wait, what?”

“You? Me? Food?”

“Uh…”

“Come out with me, Gretchen. Have dinner with me tonight,” he said, finally.

Seconds passed, and when she still hadn’t responded, Reg began to grow uncomfortable. Hell, his heart was liable to pound him to death in the interim.

“Gretchen, answer that giant man before I do,” Marion hissed, clearly listening in on them.

“Shh,” she snapped at him, before turning to Reg. “Youwant to takemeout on a date?” she echoed.

“Damn, boss lady, you are quick. You sure are,” Marion replied, rolling his heavily made-up eyes.

He walked over to where Gretchen was standing behind the counter and took the credit card from her hand since she seemed to have forgotten it.

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