Pierce

With their plates stacked, he quickly took them upstairs, following Mila’s instructions to just leave them in the sink. She’d made the effort to let him eat in the basement where he was most comfortable, so he felt the need to clean up.

As he came back down he saw that she’d poured them both a portion of alcohol.

“You don’t have to drink with me,” he said.

Mila just glared at him. “What, am I not allowed to drink here and there? I’m not an alcoholic,” she informed him. “I’m an adult, and I know how much I can have.” She smiled. “I don’t need to be babied.”

Bowing slightly in apology, Pierce accepted the glass. “That wasn’t my intent. And I never thought you need to be babied,” he said. “If I’ve learned anything, it’s that you’re tougher than you first let on back in the forest.”

“Is that a compliment? Or should I be mad you so badly underestimated me?” she replied.

Her face stayed still at first, but as he tried to figure out if she was joking or not, her lips started to twitch.

“Not fair,” he replied. “I don’t know you well enough to realize it was a joke.”

Mila laughed. “That’s what makes it more fun!”

Shaking his head, Pierce pushed along the floor until he could rest his back against the exposed concrete of the foundation. Mila slid closer, so that they weren’t talking across a vast distance.

“You know, you need to do something about that,” she said, her eyes focused on him, but not on his face.

“About what?” he asked.

“Your hair,” she replied, and Pierce was actually positive he could see her lip peel back in disgust.

He shook his head, the nearly shoulder-length locks falling forward. “I mean, it could use a wash, sure, but—”

“Nope,” she said. “You can’t pull it off. I’m sorry to burst your bubble. Some guys can, and they look great. You…you just look silly. You need a cleaner cut with that face of yours.”

Pierce lifted his eyebrows. “With ‘that face’ of mine, is it?” he asked carefully. “Got something against my mug?”

Mila grinned, a look of sheer laughter that buoyed his spirits considerably. He enjoyed it when she was happy. It made him happy, and it helped his bear relax too, he was sure.

Except….except when she did that, the little stretch of her back that pulled her baby-blue V-neck shirt tight against her body, exposing the slight hint of cleavage. Just enough to make him want to take a look whenever she bent over at all, but not enough to be too revealing when she stood up.

Or the way she’d leaned up against the stove as she’d worked, accentuating her rear in the tight white pants she wore. It was such a casual thing that Pierce doubted she even realized she was doing it. But when she did…

Well, his bear was anything but relaxed, like another part of him.

Down boy. You just met her. She’s human. She’s not likely to just leap into the sack with you. Mila is one you’re going to respect, okay? Not only because it’s what she wants, but because she’s damn well worth it, and if you look past your lust, you’ll see it.

It was true, and he felt his bear acknowledge that there was something different about her. That didn’t quench the fire between his legs. He’d been imprisoned for a long time now, without any touch at all. Not even his own. It had been tough. Was even tougher now that he was in such close proximity to such a stunning woman.

But for Mila, Pierce would put up with it.

I would put up with anything.

“No, your face is just fine there, don’t worry,” she teased. “But that hair needs to go.”

Except that.

“You want me to cut my hair off?” he asked incredulously. “Is this how you treat every guy you meet? Tell him he needs to change himself just for you?”

Mila laughed. “Nope, just the ones I meet unconscious in the woods and bring back to my house for no good reason.”

It was his turn to laugh, and he did. Eventually Mila joined in, and the two of them just cut loose for a moment.

“I see. Well, I’m not sure I agree with your assessment,” he said.

“That’s fine,” she said assertively. “But it’s still happening.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“You can fight it all you want, but trust me, Pierce. It needs to go. A woman knows these things.”

Hmm. She had a point there. If a woman said he’d look better without it, it was likely true.

And if Mila said he should do it…

“Still, that would involve going outside, into your city. I don’t know if I could stay calm enough while getting it done,” he admitted.

Mila thought about it. “Okay fine, then I’ll cut your hair.”

Pierce was speechless. Not for long though.

“Ah. Ahaha. Ahahahaha.” He said, the laughter fake and mechanical. “How about no.”

“No, come on!” Mila said, clearly warming to the idea. “It’ll be fun.”

He regarded her frankly. “You and I, it appears, have very different ideas of what fun consists of.”

Mila laughed. “It won’t be that bad, Pierce!” She grinned wickedly. “It’s hard to get worse than what you currently have.”

“Oh no you didn’t!” he replied, though his face was split in a grin.

“Yeah, look,” she said, sidling up next to him on all fours, then flipping onto her knees.

A hand worked its way through his hair. Fingernails dragged ever so softly along his skull. Almost by rote instinct, Pierce felt his eyes close as she began to play with his admittedly scraggly hair.

“Listen, we’ll cut it nice and short. So most of it will just lop off with scissors.” She paused, pulling his hair this way and that. “There are several ways we could style it, you know. Maybe the pull-over style, or whatever it’s called these days. The young-person-combover look.”

Pierce opened his eyes and stared at her blankly.

“What?” she protested. “It looks good.”

“Mila,” he said gently, rubbing one hand on her leg. “I come from a small-town shifter world. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, right. Okay,” she said, continuing right on. “So you sort of cut it short all along the sides and back in a fade,” she explained, running her fingers gently across his scalp to mimic her words.

Pierce had to do his best not to groan softly at the tingles that rippled down his spine as she did.

“Then, you kind cut it longer over here,” she said, playing with the hair on the top right of his scalp.

It was harder for him to resist this time.

“And then this side a little shorter. Then you put some gel or whatever in it—I’m not really sure…I’d have to do a quick internet search of what’s recommended—and you pull the longer hair up and over to fall on the other side.”

She put action to words with her hands, though obviously with his longer hair it didn’t quite work out, but he got the picture.

“It’ll be good,” she said, her hands not leaving his hair, continuing to work through it. “It’ll give you a nice style.”

He laughed. “Mila, style means nothing to me. I don’t go anywhere where that’s a thing.”

“Maybe not,” she insisted. “But the women, the women will like it.”

He turned to look at her.

“Perhaps I don’t want other women to like it,” he said.

Did you just…

Hoo boy.

The temperature in the basement skyrocketed up suddenly as his eyes caught hers, trapping the chocolatey brown orbs in his gaze and not letting go. Tension filled the space around them, as thick as Jell-O.

He knew he should resist, but everything was pulling him closer to her. Mila wasn’t resisting either. Her eyes flicked quickly back and forth between his eyes, and her tongue darted out to nervously dampen her lips.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her plump lips remain slightly parted. The look was so inviting, he just wanted to cup her chin and press himself to her. The urge was overwhelming, pushing past his defenses, and apparently hers as well. Mila never backed away, instead swaying slightly closer as they looked deep into each other’s souls.

Her hands seemed to pull away from his head, but he reached up quickly and held them there.

“No,” he said, his voice hoarse with barely-contained desire. “That feels nice. Please continue.”

Mila nodded, her head shaky and unstable, making the movement jerky, a reflection of her nerves. Pierce’s eyes became lidded as he felt her fingers drag through his hair.

Slowly, so as not to alarm her, he reached up and tugged gently at the hair elastic. It came free, and golden-blonde strands temptingly cascaded around her neck.

Biting his lip in nervousness, he reached up and gently ran a hand through her hair.

Mila’s mouth fell open a little more and she made a soft excitable noise.

Lust flared within him.