AS PREDICTED, IT IS INSANE the second I step foot inside of Sway’s. The madness starts with Sway and ends with Sway. Madness and insane being the keywords.
“Sweet heavens you, my little belle! Sway was imagining you on your deathbed! When that hunky father of yours—stop looking at me like that, you would have to be blind not to see how hunky he is! Anyway, when he told me that my Danielle-Bell was sick, I was so worried. Darling, you look like you’ve lost weight. Weight, I will remind you, that you did not have to lose. Such a tiny little tinker.” He spins me with two hands on my shoulders, and I have to work hard not to bust my ass when my heels struggle to keep up with the rapid movement. “It’s a good thing you have your mother’s lush bottom or you would look like a stick. As it is, you look like a stick with a great ass.”
He spins me back around and looks down at my chest. Oh here we go. Reaching up to my black blouse, he unsnaps the two buttons that kept me decent and nods to himself when my red bra is peeking through the opening.
“Perfect. Now give the girls a little tuggero and we’re done. I’ll make sure to put some more weight on you, Belle.”
“You do realize that this would be considered sexual harassment in most work environments,” I remind him. Again.
“It would. But lucky for you, I haven’t swung for the kitty cats once in my life. I think, for the harassment to be sexual, I would have to actual want to get in those pants, darling. The only pants I ever want to get into happen to be carrying far different equipment than you, sweet girl.” He laughs and smacks my rear when I turn to walk to my station.
“Good God, Pops! Do not talk like that!” I hear Stella yell as she walks in from the back room, where we do all of our color mixing. “That’s just . . . No, that’s just too much, even for you. I don’t ever want to think about my dad’s junk or my pops lusting after it.” She rolls her eyes and walks over to give me a hug. “Hey, you. I missed you around this circus.”
“I heard that, Stella!” Sway laughs and struts to the front of the studio in his glittery, gold heels—heels that, as predicted, are taller than mine.
“I wasn’t trying to hide it, Pops!” she yells at his back.
Ah. Never a dull moment at Sway’s.
I was busy doing Karen Oglethorpe’s hair for about twenty minutes before the cameras walked in. Of course. Film day. I must be completely off my game if I had already forgotten the filming rotation.
I loathe film day.
Not only are the cameras always in my way when I’m trying to do hair, mix color, and move between the washing station or the blower station, but the producer and his people are freaking annoying. Devon Westerfield. He’s been a constant presence around the salon since this time last year, and I think I might actually hate him more now than I did then. Not because he’s a bad person. He really isn’t. He’s doing his job just the same as I am. But it’s because of him that I might publicly, in front of millions, make a fool of myself when the reality series goes live.
“Ah! Danielle Reid. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he says and leans in to give me a light hug. “You know Don and Mark?”
“Hey, Dev. Nope, I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure,” I respond with fake enthusiasm.
“Hmm. Oh that’s right. You weren’t here the other day when I brought them by to meet everyone. They’re my assistants this go-around. Here to help with the crew and also with anything small to large that I might just be too stretched thin for.” He starts looking around, and I can tell he has already forgotten about me.
“Okie dokie, Devy boy.”
Returning my attention back to Karen is effective enough in getting him off my back, but the two shadows-to-be stick around. I pause in my brushing of her color and look up.
“Is there something you two need?” I ask in annoyance.
“Well, Devon said you were the go-to person here. Manager and head stylist of Sway’s. We just thought—” the short one—Don, I think—starts, but I interrupt him before he can get started on his crusade to get me to tell him how to do his job. They’re all the same. Devon has been through more assistants than I can count in the year and a half I’ve known him.
“One thing to know and remember, boys: I don’t have time for you to act like you don’t know your head from your ass. Nice to meet you and all that, but please don’t act like the last few idiots who all but licked the ground Dev over there, walked on. It won’t earn you points with him. In case you haven’t noticed, he’s a little tunnel-vision prone, and I assure you that it won’t do you any good to try and fuse yourself to me.” Dismissing their shocked faces, I look in the mirror and give Karen a wink, earning a giggle from her in return. She loves it when the girls around here are sassy.
They mumble something under their breaths, and I turn to give them a sharp glare, which of course they miss because they’ve tucked their tails again to run after an order-barking Devon.
Two hours later, I finally have a chance to go grab a quick bite to eat. Well, I would have if Sway hadn’t yelled from the front that I had a call-in that would be here in fifteen.
I hate call-ins. Since I’m one of the best stylists in the local area, my appointments are booked weeks out. But there are a handful of people I always allow to call in, and Sway wouldn’t have said yes to them had it not been one of those select few.
Mentally, while shoving as much of the sandwich Stella grabbed me when she did a lunch run down my throat, I try to figure out who could be coming in. I know it’s not Nate or Liam; I cut their hair last week. Daddy doesn’t need a cut since I did his the other day. I’ve seen the others it might be recently enough. I pause with my last bite to my mouth when I realize who it will be—the only person who I haven’t cut in a while.
Cohen. Freaking. Cage.
Son of a bitch. I know I told Sway no more scheduling or allowing him to come in on a film day.
“Breathe, fancy pants,” Lyn whispers in my ear on her way towards the back breakroom. “He hasn’t been a biter since he was a kid.” She continues walking with her laughter trailing behind her.
I’m going to kill Sway, I think to myself before going to wash up so I can prep my station.
I have just put down my trimmers when I feel it.
That magnetic charge that floats over my skin, heating every inch and leaving a trail of awareness in its wake. That pull that has always been connected to one man. I shiver and give myself a pep talk about how to treat him with friendly indifference while there are cameras around. Of course they have been filming a few things that the cameras mounted all over the room can’t capture perfectly. I have already tripped over one of the assistant asshats twice today.
“Dani-girl.” His voice, that rich rumble of masculine excellence, washes over me and I shiver again before cursing under my breath. The rumble of his low laughter tells me that he definitely didn’t miss that little move.
Kill me now.
“Hey, Coh,” I say with a smile. “What brings you in? Last minute, I might add.” I pat the chair before walking around and holding the back while he sits down.
When his scent hits my nose, I almost come on the spot. Lord, he smells good. I wonder what he would smell like while his body covered mine, all sweaty from hours of good lovemaking. I run my fingers through the longer lengths on the top and feel my cheeks heat slightly, thinking about doing the same when his face is buried between my legs.
“ . . . needed a trim.”
Shit. I missed what he said because, naturally, I was thinking about him naked. Naked and thrusting into my body. Naked and feasting between my spread thighs.
“You feeling okay? I thought Nate said you were better?”
“Uh, I’m fine. Just—is it hot in here?” I fan my face and avoid his eyes.
He’s silent, so I take that as a sign that it’s safe to bring my attention back to him.
Big mistake there. His knowing eyes are boring right into mine. The chocolate depths sparkling in a way that makes it clear he has a good idea about where my mind was going.
“Did you hear what I said, Dani-girl?”
“Of course I did, Cohen. What, did you think I was standing here daydreaming?” I joke.
“Well, yeah, that’s exactly what I think.” His eyes darken and he smirks a devilish grin. “Did you know you talk in your sleep, Dani?” he asks, and I drop my comb.
Oh, God. Shut up, shut up, shut up. This is not happening. No way.
“No, I don’t,” I childishly snap.
“Dani, you do. So, yeah, I do think you were standing there daydreaming. Want to know why?” He uses his booted foot to move his chair so that he’s facing me, and then he leans in so that his face is dangerously close to mine. Even when he’s seated, his head is almost level with my own. Curse my horizontally challenged self. “While you were zoning off into space with your fingers running through my hair, you had this smile on your lips. The same smile you had the other day when you were dreaming. About me, Dani. And don’t deny it, because you don’t moan my name if you’re dreaming about another man. Yes, Dani, you very much do talk in your sleep.” He smiles again before leaning back and looking down to his phone. “Clean up my neck please, cut the length off the top, and give me a buzz on the sides. Other than that, you’re clear to continue with your thoughts.”
I must have been standing there like an idiot because he looks up from his phone, laughs to himself, and, with one tan hand, reaches out and pushes my mouth closed.
“You’re going to catch flies that way, Dani-girl. One day, maybe you can clue me in on what those dreams are about.”
Drives me insane, the control he has over me. There isn’t a single person in the world, other than Cohen, who can turn me into a ridiculously stupid, sputtering fool. My normal confidence disappears. And clearly, he isn’t as oblivious to my feelings as I originally thought.
How in the hell am I supposed to handle this?
Wait a minute. Cohen or not, I’m not going to let him pull my strings when I know he is just doing this to make me feel uncomfortable.
So, time to call his bluff.
“Why? You planning on doing something about it?”
He looks up sharply, clearly not having expected me to actually say something in return since he was going for shock value.
“Try me,” he demands, his voice thick and even deeper than normal.
I throw my head back and reach out to run my fingers thought his hair again, just barely suppressing the shivers. Curling my fingers slightly so that I can grab a good hold, I lean in and pull his head back at the same time. With my nose just a hair away from his and our breaths mingling together, I say, “Cohen, you couldn’t handle the truth of my thoughts when it comes to you and we both know it. So how about you let me know when you’re ready for me to clue you in.” I give his hair a light tug and smile when he swallows loudly and shifts in his seat. “Ready for that trim?” I ask with a wink, and I’m rewarded with his groan.
I have no idea how I do it, but I manage to get through his cut without coming unglued. I can see Lyn trying to get my attention from across the room. Stella had to leave after she overheard my words to Cohen because her giggles were getting the best of her. Cohen has remained silent the whole time. His eyes though . . . They’re speaking louder than his words ever could.
They haven’t left my reflection in the mirror since I started. I can feel them every time I shift. When I stopped to go grab another comb after I dropped my fourth one, I felt his gaze follow me across the room to Stella’s station. The few times I stopped cutting to meet his eyes, the heated promise written all over his face almost did me in. I almost just said ‘fuck it’ and climbed on his lap to have a go regardless of the people watching our every move.
I finish the last buzz of my clippers around his right ear and move to brush all the stray hair off. “All done,” I say softly and unclip his cape.
He stands, shoving his phone in the back pocket of his jeans, and walks over to stand in front of me. I continue to pretend I’m busy with the cape I just removed, brushing stray hairs off here and there, when his hand comes up, his finger and thumb hitting my chin, and my face is lifted until I have no choice but to look in his eyes.
“Do not tease me, Dani. It’s not a game you want to play if you don’t intend to follow through.”
“I-I wasn’t . . . I wouldn’t,” I stammer.
“You did, and I have no doubt you’ll have the brilliant idea to do it again. The next time you allude to those dirty thoughts I know you have about me, don’t think for a second that I won’t drag you to the closest bed to show you just how fucking dirty they’ll get.” He leans close, his scent hitting my nostrils, and I involuntarily inhale deeply, earning me a rumbled chuckle. “What you don’t know, Dani—because contrary to what you think, you don’t know me well enough to assume what having me would really be like. But I promise you this: every little thought that you have had that causes you to moan my name while scissoring those perfect legs back and forth, praying for completion—it would be so much hotter than you could ever imagine.” He gives me a soft, sweet kiss against my temple that has fire racing from that spot all over my body until it ends in the awareness that I’m pretty sure I just came in my pants.