Page 28 of Then Came You

She's wearing denim cut-offs that rise so high on her legs that the white little pockets are showing. Paired with Converse, and a black frayed linen shirt that's half tucked in the front, I struggle to keep my pulse in check. Actually, it's fucking pounding in my chest, my throat, my ears, and most certainly my cock.

I'm under no illusion that showing up week after week reeks of desperation, but I'm hoping she thinks it's endearing.

Part of me is still unsettled by her age, but a bigger part of me is grappling with how we're in completely different places in our lives. I come with two kids and an ex-wife, not to mention a demanding job.

Despite these reasons, the pull I feel towards her is undeniable.

She's busy expertly running a straightener down a redhead's tresses, with the other hand smoothing it with a brush. I can see the action has become habitual to her, the way she's in a daze as she repeats the technique.

"Blade, what are you doing here?" She squeals, looking at me through the mirror. Her jasper eyes twinkle as she greets me with a sweet smile.

Walking over, I plant a kiss on her cheek, making her practically float up in the air if her satisfied sigh is anything to go by. I don't miss the older broad's not-so-inconspicuous look of disapproval.

"Thought I'd surprise you. When do you finish up?" I'm keen to get her alone.

"I have one more client." She pouts, giving me a look of regret before sucking in her bottom lip.

"I'll take them," Trish calls from somewhere, and suddenly she's become my favourite person today. Row's shocked and panicked gaze flits over to her boss, who's coming out from the back. "Don't worry, you'll still get paid for the whole night, but you've been putting in so much overtime, it's the least I can do, plus there's no point in the both of us waiting around until close. Go have fun. Be young," she urges.

Row's face lights up like a Christmas tree. The urge to taste and know every piece of her is incredibly impossible to deny.

"I'll be done soon." She bats her eyelids, and her teeth sink into her lower lip once again.

"Take your time, Tink." I make myself comfortable on the couch, arms extended on the backrest, one leg crossed over my knee. I have a prime view of her face when she looks at me in the mirror, but an even more luscious one staring at her ass.

Over the next ten or so minutes, she tests my stamina.

She not-so-subtly makes eye contact, smiling surreptitiously as she flicks her hair from one shoulder to another, swaying her hips as she glides around her client.

Once she settles the bill, she retrieves her small, faded handbag. To my chagrin, I notice it's missing a strap and the zipper only closes halfway. She's poor. There's no franker way to say it. Seeing the way she lives makes me want to take care of her.

"Ready to go?" I ask, gesturing with my hand for her to go before me as I hold the door open.

Moving away from prying eyes and ears, we leave out the front. I skim over her perfect form. It's only the second time I've seen her in natural light, and she's stunning.

"So, I'm your regular girl Thursday then, huh?" She bumps her shoulders with mine. I grin, looking down at her, but don't miss how she's hoping for an explanation.

"I'm sorry I only show up on a Thursday. I swear it's not intentional. I had my daughter from Friday onwards every fortnight, and work sometimes gets in the way."

"It's okay." She shrugs. I'm still getting used to her carefree attitude. If she were Avalon, I'd have to do a lot more grovelling. "Where is she tonight?" She asks, rummaging through her purse.

"At a sleepover."

She pulls out an iPhone nearly as old as my son. This thing is ancient. It looks like it's been tossed on the road and run over. Does the camera even work? I try to hide my grimace. She notices me staring. "It's a little…weathered. I'm just checking to see if my sister texted." She holds the brick, and I'm having second-hand wrist pain from just watching her.

It's only when she's stuffed her phone back in her bag that I stop rubbing my wrist from phantom tendinitis.

"So, what do you want to do?" She shuffles on the spot like a hot potato. I thrive on her frenetic energy. Seeing her like this, wringing her hands in front of her, I'm convinced she's as green as they come. I can sense sometimes she doesn't know what to do with me.

"How long do I have you for?" I cock my eyebrow, craning my neck down at her.

"I have nowhere to be until tomorrow afternoon," she murmurs. I don't know if she's hinting at an invitation to spend a whole 18 hours with me, but I'm goddamn well going to take it that she is.

"You don't have to be home tonight?" She chortles and shakes her head. "Not hanging out with friends?" I press. She shakes her head again. "And you're totally fine being kidnapped by me?"

She laughs her sweet little giggle, and my cock raises like a flag.

"It depends on where you're taking me or what you plan to do with me, but I'm up for an adventure if you are." She keeps bouncing on the spot like an excited puppy, unaware that what she just said was entirely sexual according to what my ears heard.

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