Page 19 of Hacking His Code

Hunter:Most women relish a spa day.

Arinessa:Does every spa day include getting every hair below your neck ripped out by a small group of sadistic torturers? I don’t know if the million dollars is going to cover the therapy I’m going to need after this.

Fuck, the thought of Arinessa bare and spread out for me on my bed has me painfully hard. This would be so much easier if she were hideous.

Flirting would be a bad idea, and any more information like that will have me saying things I regret. So I decide to go with honesty.

Hunter:While we are establishing our professional baseline, I must add that those kinds of details will be ever-distracting to me.

Arinessa:Seriously? You probably date supermodels. And you’re the one that had them do it!

Hunter:I must confess that I did not know how in-depth the spa package would be. And…it doesn’t take a supermodel to get the engine going.

Arinessa:Noted.

I pocket my phone, trying to clear my head of the image of Arinessa in my bed, but it’s a powerful image that I don’t want to abandon.

If I were smart, I’d leave Arinessa to the skillful trio I have tending to her.

But if today proves anything, it’s that I’m perfectly capable of making bad decisions.

Arinessa

“Phew! The hardest part is done,”Neon says with a satisfied grin as I stand naked before the trio of women.

My makeover began three long hours ago. I’ve been bathed, waxed, polished, tanned, among other rituals that I’ve heard women do, but had yet to experience myself.

Now, it’s time to sift through the racks full of clothing, which sounds awesome, but the women I’m dealing with have a way of making everything feel like boot camp.

Neon grabs an arm full of garments. “This is going to be so much fun!”

Fun, she says. Hmmm…

I honestly think marathons would be less tiring than the rate at which they have me trying on clothes. Within twenty minutes, forty outfits are strewn across the floor, and there’s no sign of slowing. It’s not until I don an olive green A-line dress that I finally have hope of reprieve.

After zipping me up and backing away for a better view, the girls just kind of stands there, heads cocked to the side.

“I think the V-neck sits well,” Purple finally says. “The green doesn’t scream for attention, and the way it cascades from the front to the back is going to make for a stunning visual.”

Neon shakes her head sadly. “Olive green is so drab.”

“You know it’s the right choice,” Chestnut says. “It shows off her assets without displaying them.”

Neon frowns. “I guess the dress accomplishes that.”

“Let’s get started on her makeup,” Purple says. “Maybe we can do something fun.”

A loud knock sounds on the bathroom door.

“God, could we have ordered any more clothes?” Chestnut shakes her head, but when she flings open the door, it isn’t an attendant with another rack of clothing on the other side.

It’s Hunter Davies.

“Hunter!” Chestnut enthuses. “You’re going to love what we’ve done to your girlfriend!”

“May I come in?” he asks, and I pray they tell him no.

“Of course!” the trio calls out in unison.