Page 31

Chapter thirty-one

Damien

I am a God damn liar. I pride myself on honesty, which is contradictory to my life, since I hide myself as the leader of DH from the world. I told myself that love doesn’t exist. That it was made up to heal the damaged. True love couldn’t be real, right? The thought that you could love someone so much that you would give up everything for them? And that it wouldn’t have any consequences? Love is a weakness. Something only manifested for others to manipulate and twist into something maniacal.

Marriages get stale. Trauma happens and changes people. All of the ever-changing variables of life, and people are stupid enough to believe that nothing could change. To put someone not only before your own mind, heart, and soul, but before everything you do was foreign to me. Willing to throw everything away for someone that will eventually leave you stranded and heartbroken. Leaving you in ruins while you pick up the pieces. Nothing could be forever, right?

The thought that nothing could tear you and this person apart was illusive to me. That life had to be all sunshine, rainbows, and unicorn shit for love to actually prevail. Thinking that there are some situations and baggage that others won’t accept and run screaming from. Operating under the life I live is a lonely man’s world, and no woman would willingly accept a life of violence in exchange for a life with me. The idea that two people could love each other more than anything in the world and nothing would stand in our way was ridiculous. Life targets happy people, and it'd have a straight line to their ignorance.

That’s what I told myself.

Lied to myself.

I am in love with this woman.

She’s opened herself up, and I didn’t make her. I may have taken away her choice on whether she was with me or not, but liking me? Caring for me? She chose that. She craves much more than just physical touch, and she craves that from me. For her to allow herself to open up to me, care for me, is a God damn honor. For someone whose love literally left scars on her body, she accepted me. I could give her the choice back and give her the option to run without me following close behind her, and I trust her enough to stay. She may not love me yet, but that’s okay, I feel it there inside her. How ever long it takes for her to realize is just more time for my love for her to grow, and I'm a very patient man.

Holding her early this morning felt like heaven, if there was one. After I finished inside her, I left myself in her. Buried myself in her, and she just let me hold her. I probably traced her whole body with my fingers twice, and the way she touched me over my chest, neck, and face with her delicate fingers was so soothing. I’ve held her every night for over three weeks, but this morning was different. It was an awakening. For both of us, I think, and when I woke up a while later next to her beautiful soul, I actually heard the birds sing. The world looked different. Brighter. Like I had a hangover that I never want to recover from.

If she thought I was dangerous before, she was clearly mistaken. The lengths I would go to keep her happy are unnatural. Obscene. Ranging anywhere from the smallest of tasks to the largest of atrocities. I would pluck every black flower from this earth, raise kingdoms in her name, and slaughter any man who dare threaten her mind or her soul. I’d pile the bodies at our doorstep as a testament to my love, and a warning to anyone else. Anything to make her smile or reassure her of my undying loyalty and commitment to her. I know she would never ask any of that from me, or anything really, but she wouldn’t have too. She wouldn’t even need to bat an eye.

She knows I have money, but she doesn’t care. She hasn’t asked where I live, or what kind of car I drive. She didn’t even ask what kind of bike I had. She couldn’t care less. She just wants me, for me, and I'm the luckiest, most dangerous mother fucker on the planet.

I have to see her again. Now. I hate the feeling when I'm not with her. It’s like my soul is parted from me and is in constant search for her. Lying in bed earlier this morning and watching her as she quickly got ready for work was like a glimpse at eternal peace. So easy. So simple and content. Like that’s the view I’d watch for the rest of my life, and I loved every second of it. She told me to get more sleep, but all I could do was lie there knowing she was right downstairs. Laying on our bed without her felt so wrong. It was as if bugs were crawling under my skin, and I couldn’t stay still if my life depended on it.

I listen to the familiar doorbell ring as I walk through Cut Me Down. The room is beaming, and a carefree energy radiates through the space today. Charlie is already in her chair. Talking up a storm and seemingly entertaining my girl. Luckily for me, there’s no one else waiting for her. So I can have her to myself for a while.

I nod to all of the other guys cutting as I walk up to the half wall, and Emmett gives me an extra smirk as he looks over to her and smiles.

“Hey, baby girl.” I say to her as I lean on the wall.

“Hey.” She leans in for a gentle kiss. So innocently, like she has been kissing me every morning for years. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better.” I stare into her beautiful golden eyes as they shine more today than I’ve ever seen them. “How’s it hanging Charlie?” I glance at the old fart.

“Shriveled and to the left, young man.” He smirks, showing his dentures.

“Charles!” I hear who I'm assuming is Jamie, from the waiting area, and I can’t help but laugh.

“It’s fine Jamie, he’s hilarious.” I tell her, but direct my attention back to Ashia. “You got time for one more?” I know she does, it’s only ten in the morning. As if the empty waiting room wasn’t clue enough.

“You’re letting me cut your hair?” Her eyes widen with genuine surprise.

“Well yeah, I'm not letting anyone else.”

“Good, I’d kill you.” She says to me playfully as she narrows her eyes, feigning a threatening demeanor. However, I fully believe she would if another woman touched me. Though, she’ll never have to worry about that. The thought of any other woman than her touching me is repulsive, but a part of me wishes another woman would try. Just so I could see my little wolf go feral over her ownership of me. If she had seen Mikaela today instead, I have every bit of confidence that it would have gone a very different way.

I look over to the counter to see a shampoo bottle, a beard oil, and a bar of soap set on the inside by the tablet she uses to check clients in and out. That stuff isn't normally there, and it’s pushed to the side like she’s saving it.

“What’s all of that?” I ask.

“I figured you needed ‘guy stuff’ for the apartment. So, I bought it for you. It’s my favorite scent.” She smiles and winks at me. Ashia does not have a lot of money, but she thought about me enough to spend it on me. That sweet woman. Her generosity in a world full of selfishness always surprises me.

“Oh yeah?” Her favorite scent? I'll buy every fucking bottle before another man uses it. Maybe the whole company. It couldn’t cost that much, and I can’t have my little wolf thinking another man smells good. Though, I don’t think it’d have the same effect on her from another man.

“Yeah.” She says as she smiles, tempting me to close the gap between our lips once again.

“Well, you can use it on me after the cut. Except for the soap, you can use that on me later.” She bites her lower lip at my comment.

“That is really good, young man! I have got to use that! Ashia, sign me up for one of those bars.” Charlie barks out as he lazily fans his hand towards the counter. I start to cackle, and she gently hits my shoulder as she laughs with me.

“Would you sit down! You’re going to make him worse.” She turns her attention back to the old man. “No soap for you Charlie.” She laughs, points at him like she’s scolding a child, and continues cutting his hair. I sit, even though I don’t want too. Playfully pouting like I’m in a time-out. I want to grab her by her waist and prove to every mother fucker in here who she belongs to. Especially Charlie. That old fart is too comfortable with how he talks to her.

Fuck, look at her…she looks so happy. Her steps have a little more bounce, and I don’t think her smile has left her face since I walked in. I would do anything to make sure her smile never leaves. Hopefully after the next couple of days, it won’t.

I have plans to take her somewhere, well, a couple of places, to really show her how much she means to me. I hope it doesn’t make her feel too uncomfortable, but the thought of her shaking underneath me only fuels my lust for her.

She finishes up with Charlie, and he goes to walk out, but stops beside me. Eyeing me up and down before pointing his finger at my face. Warning me much in the same way Ashia did to him.

“Whatever you’re doing young man, you better keep it up. Her smile is one of the brightest.” I nod at him, and he leaves.

Well played, Charlie. Well played . I walk back up as she cleans up.

“So, do I get special Charlie treatment after my cut?” I lean against the half wall again.

“I'm not singing in front of all of these people.” She says, gesturing to all of the other clients being serviced. Giggling cheerfully like a schoolgirl as I gently grab her hand and pull her to me. Circling my arms around her waist and holding her close. I just can't keep my hands off of her. Her soft lips collide with mine for only a couple of seconds before she gently pushes away. Looking up at me with those glee filled, golden globes.

“You mean you won’t howl for me, little wolf?” She bites the inside of her mouth to keep her smile from growing wider. If that was possible.

“Sit down in the chair, you big lug.” I'm going to bend her over this chair later, but for now I do what she says.

“Whatever you want, baby.” I sit down, and I knew she was short, but even sitting in her barber’s chair, the top of my head comes up to her chest. Almost to her chin. She’s so cute. It looks like she’s going to hold her arms out and ask me for upsies. I’ll walk around with her attached to my back like a spider-monkey any time.

“So, sir , what can I do for you?” She bobs her head lightly. Pretending to be annoyed while I raise a brow.

“You’re trying to be cute.”

“Maybe.” She bites her bottom lip again as she smiles, showing off those piercing canines I love so much.

“Whatever you want.” Her eyes widen, and she taps her chin with her index finger in faux contemplation.

“Hmm, whatever I want? How about a mullet? A Mohawk? Oh no, that's right, you want a lightening bolt on the side like all the other kids right?” She lets out a short giggle, and I nod.

“Oh yeah, absolutely. All of those things.” She lets out a genuine laugh and fuck it gets me hard. Once she comes down from her amusement, she shakes her head.

“Don’t worry I won’t actually do any of that.”

“I know. Just do whatever you want.” She pouts slightly, like she doesn’t want to do it.

“But I like your long hair.”

“Then keep it longer.” I reassure her. It’s not that long. It has grown over my ears and down my neck a little. Plus the front is long enough to touch the tip of my nose, but either I normally push it back and out of the way, or she does it for me. She does love my hair, I’ve noticed that. It could be because of her profession, but knowing her it's because of how soft it is. She fidgets with her hands, so she likes something soothing to play with. I’d let her play with my hair all day if it meant her touching me.

She begins her work and she’s so tedious, even as she sprays my hair down with her water bottle. Well, before delivering a playful squirt to my face. I can’t help but rear back and scrunch my face as she laughs.

“So, what are you doing here? I figured you’d have work today.” She says raising her eyebrows. Reminding me not to say anything to vital.

“I told everyone to take it easy today after last night. We did enough damage to hold off a few days, and I wanted to give people time to mourn Henry. Plus, I just had to see you.” She shifts her gaze back to me, and her cheeks flush.

“Well, good. Does that mean I get you all to myself?”

“You’re damn right you do.” She smiles as her hands gently begin running through my hair and her face focuses once again. She starts to trim my hair, and I’ve never noticed how good hair cuts feel. Her fingers gently pulling every section, her comb lightly scratching my scalp with every swipe, and then those delicate fingers running through to check what she cut. It takes me back to early this morning, right before I fell asleep. About thirty minutes before she got ready for work.

She was laying on my chest with one of my arms wrapped around her, her hand entangled in my own as our legs weaved through one another. I'm assuming she thought I had fallen asleep already, but she ran her fingers through my hair one last time before she reached up and lightly kissed me on the cheek. Again, so innocent and miniscule to others, but little things like that are a big step for her. I’ll take every step I can.

She moves to my beard growing in. Raking her comb through it gently to make sure there’s no debris. It has been a few days since I’ve had time to shave. Normally, I just shave it off because it’s quick and easy, but from the way she was caressing my face last night it seemed she liked something there. I'm not really a beard guy, but if that’s what she wants, then that’s what she’ll get.

Running her clippers over it gently to leave some stubble behind, her gaze is very focused. The edges of her teeth barely scrape her bottom lip as she studies my face. She’s terrified that I won’t like whatever she does. Always so afraid of disappointing someone. I'm surprised she chose this profession. With some of the assholes she deals with on a daily basis, no wonder her view on men hadn’t changed. I’ve watched her do shaves before, and normally she uses a brush to apply the shave cream, but not for me. I get better than Charlie treatment.

She glides her hands over my face and down my neck to apply the cream, her nails gently scraping as she does. Her pretty index finger glides over my lip to apply it as those golden eyes stare at me, piercing my soul. Any other time she shaves someone, she stands to their side and reaches around, but not to me. Not my little wolf. She spreads her legs and leans into me so I have a clear shot down her shirt. She’s toying with me and I'm crumbling in desire. Now that she’s comfortable with me, she’s really coming out of her shell. I just hope she’s ready for the monster she’s working to unleash. Her moving that razor to my throat as she pushes my head back makes me even harder, and I can’t help but push out a groan.

“Stay still or I'll cut you.” She says seductively, but she’s also serious. She may not want to hurt me, but I wouldn’t mind it. Little does my girl know that I like pain as much as she does. So, I push my head back up and meet her gaze. Staring directly into her eyes as the razor barely scrapes me.

“Are you commanding me, little wolf?” Little does she know, I'll do whatever she says. She has me so entangled in every fiber of her that no request is too drastic. Whatever my Goddess desires.

“Maybe.” She seductively whispers in my ear.

“Do you want me to bend you over this chair?” Her eyes widen as she draws back.

“There’s people here, Damien.”

“Hasn’t stopped me from touching you before, and I didn’t hear the word ‘no’ leave your mouth.” She leans into me a little more and moves my head to where she needs it. Lightly grasping the strands of my hair and tugging. She might as well be stroking my dick with how turned on I am.

“Keep your head where I put it.” Those lips freely demand. I want to jerk her up by her hair and take her in this chair. In front of everyone. But I know what that would do to her and I can’t have her feeling like that with me. So, I concede.

“Yes ma’am.” I whisper so she can barely hear it, but she shakes her head and grins ever so slightly before continuing to line up my beard. Her face is so serious. It’s adorable. She’s nibbling on her lip again and her eyes are slightly squinted in concentration. I can barely contain my grin from what I'm about to do.

She moves to line up the stubble left on my lip. Lining the razor up perfectly and about to put pressure down when I bite out and growl at her. She jumps back, curling her arms into herself and slightly turning away. The cute little screech that squeaks out of her mouth has the rest of the shop busting with laughter. Smiling, she hits my shoulder as I fling my head back, laughing so hard that it brings tears to my eyes.

“You ass!” She yells and laughs at me.

“I'm sorry, baby. I couldn’t help it. You were so deep in thought.” I reach out, grab her face, and kiss her cheek. Spreading the shave cream all over the side of her large smile.

“I could’ve cut you!” She giggles and wipes it off comically.

“I think we both know I wouldn’t have minded.” I wink at her, causing her to bite her bottom lip again. She then moves back to my face but then backs off and stares me down. “I won’t do it again, I promise.” She presses her lips to a thin line and squints at me, but then continues.

Once she’s done with my face, she sensually wipes off the access with a hot towel, and then uses that beard oil she loves so much on my cheeks and neck. She better use a cold towel on the rest of me if she doesn’t want to be fucked in five minutes.

“Take the rest of the day off and then call out a couple of days.” I say. More of a demand than a question. She raises her brows in confusion.

“What?”

“I want to take you somewhere.”

“I can’t just take off, Damien. Emmett counts on me being here.” She gestures around the room. She does take care of almost everything that’s not money related to this shop. The cleaning, organizing, and restocking are just a few. Well, I don’t really give a fuck. With how much I’m paying Emmett now, she can go anywhere or do anything she wants.

“Hey, Emmett? How much in sales does she do in a day?” I yell across the room to ask. Keeping my focus on her. She squints her eyes at me as she furrows her brows, like she doesn’t know why I’m asking.

“Anywhere between three hundred and little over eight hundred.” He yells back. I know he’s been listening to us this whole time, and I saw him look in our direction through the mirror. He likes her with me, and while I don’t need his approval, it's nice to have it knowing how much he means to her.

I smirk fondly at her, impressed by the monetary value she brings in for him. Not that I doubt her skills, but that’s just a lot for one person to do, only charging twenty-five bucks a cut. I bet the products they sell here are outrageously expensive in comparison.

“If I pay you five grand right now, can she take off now and the next two days?” I ask as I look deeply into her beautiful eyes. Just so she knows how fucking serious I am.

“Of course she can.” He says without hesitation as a smirk sprouts on that cute face.

“Where are we going?”

“You'll see.” I sit straight, grab her jaw, and pull her face to me. Only about an inch away, so she can feel the desire on my breath. Heat radiating from my body. “Now go upstairs and get ready like a good little girl.”