Page 40 of Lycan Prey (Little Secrets Duet #1)

Reluctantly, I follow the beautician into the designated bed behind a screen, a small, overly bright space that suddenly feels more like an interrogation room. As I lie down on the waxing table, my mind races with apprehensions about the impending pain and the sheer awkwardness of the situation.

The beautician pats my shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Think of it as… preparation for the wedding night!”

I muster a weak smile, but internally, I’m screaming. As she prepares the wax, I close my eyes, trying to think of anything but what she is about to do. She turns back to me and frowns. “You gotta take your pants off, silly!” she chuckles, and I grit my teeth, forcing a pained smile.

I slip off the table and shimmy my pants down before stopping at my underwear. Why didn’t I go bald eagle? Instead, I’m going to be spread eagle on her damn table. I step out of my underwear and slip onto the table. I twiddle my thumbs as she wanders over and assesses me.

She purses her lips. “I was expecting more, to be honest, the way she described. I was expecting a monkey to come in here, so this is just a typical session.” I grimace, just wanting to get this over with.

I flinch as she spreads the wax on my skin and then places the fabric strip, smoothing it down. She chatters away happily as if she is not about to violate my lady bits.

I nod and cringe before I nearly choke on air as she rips the strip off with blinding speed. My eyes bulge, and I know she must have pulled skin off. I glance down, finding the skin raw and angry, however my vulva is still attached, thankfully.

The beautician chuckles and says, “Woo, that was a good one!” Her enthusiasm feels almost sadistic as she prepares another dollop of wax.

“Clean as a whistle,” she hums, spreading the wax liberally, tugging my thighs further apart like she’s opening the gates to some sort of torturous amusement park.

“Wait! Where is that one going?” I gasp, a new wave of panic setting in as I feel the wax smear in a dangerously low region. I slap my hand over my eyes, unable to watch the horror unfold.

“Anyone would think this is your first time,” the beautician teases, clearly enjoying this far too much.

I groan from behind my hand barricade. I’m going to kill him. Soren will die by my hands.

Rip! I shriek as the strip comes off, my hands gripping the table like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded in a world that has clearly lost its sanity. How is this legal!

Oh, I can’t look. I’m pretty sure I’m one lip short now.

Yep, that’s me—Franny with her One-Lipped Fanny. I’m half-convinced the beautician’s keeping trophies. Pretty sure she’s made off with more than hair this time. I must be half the woman I used to be.

As the beautician preps for another round, my thoughts race. At least now I understand how those girls manage to fit into those microscopic bikinis—they’ve had their flaps waxed off! It’s the only explanation.

“Perfect for those super skimpy bikinis, right?” I attempt to joke with the beautician, but my voice is a tad higher than usual due to the discomfort. “No need to worry about any unruly lip slips!”

Should save on swimwear fabric, right? No lips to tuck because this wax-wielding lunatic just claimed one as her own. Flaps be gone.

The beautician chuckles, apparently enjoying my torture. “Just a few more strips, and you’ll be smoother than a baby’s bottom!”

“Fantastic,” I groan, bracing myself. “Because clearly, my life’s ambition was to achieve the sleek aerodynamics of a hairless cat. Maybe we can schedule a tail wax next time?”

As another strip is ruthlessly removed, I think about the newfound breeziness I’ll experience. Forget the wind in my hair; now it’s all about the wind down there.

“ Almost done, and you’ll be perfect,” she assures me, oblivious to the inner turmoil and the plotting of revenge brewing inside me.

Perfect? I’ll be lucky if I leave here and I’m still able to sit. Soren owes me big time. I’m talking about lifetime supplies of chocolate, foot massages, and maybe a pet unicorn that poops delicious jello.

Rip , another piece of me gone! There’s no way all of me survived this unscathed.

I swear I can feel the breeze doing a whistle-stop tour through my newly reconstructed vagina.

I start to sit up, thinking she is done when she turns back to me and pushes my shoulder back down. I look at her questionably.

“Now for the last part,” she says.

“Last part? I’m pretty sure there are no parts left; you removed them!” I shriek, wondering how much more my punani can be stripped back; it’s not an onion; last I checked, I got no more layers left. She took it back straight to the damn core.

“Of course, can’t have any stragglers for the wedding day,” the beautician cheerfully chimes in, slathering a new batch of wax on…

I freeze, my eyes widening in horror. “Stragglers? Wait, what part of town are we venturing to now?”

She gives me a knowing wink. “Just a little tidy up around the back alley, dear. We aim for a clean escape!”

“A clean— what now!” The concept of having my back alley waxed hadn’t even crossed my mind. “I thought we were just doing the front porch, not landscaping the whole damn property!”

She snickers, slathering the wax on while I internally groan, thinking of how I’m going to kill Soren when I get my hands on him.