Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it—her action had a reaction from my body, and as her muscles clamped down around my dick and my mind crowed over how hard I’d made her come, my own orgasm began.
Thick ropes came out of me into the tip of the condom, each burst making me see lights behind my tightly squeezed eyes. And when it left me, I only had enough cognitive functions left to catch myself on my arm as I dropped down on top of her.
“Do you think Cody heard you?” I panted.
“No. The walls aren’t paper thin, plus I did manage to catch a lot of it.”
I could only hope she was right.
Five minutes later, once I could feel my legs again and I’d gotten the condom disposed of, Evie stopped the idle stroking of my side she’d been doing.
“If I sleep on the floor, there’s no way in hell I’ll be walking tomorrow, and people will ask questions. They’ll assume it was your penis that’s responsible, and you’ll get a reputation as having a Dumbo cock or something. And parents talk, as you know, so Cody will have to—”
Placing my hand over her mouth, I stopped her mid-sentence.
“I’m getting the sense that you want us to get back on the bed.” When she nodded behind the hand, I rolled my eyes. “All you had to do was say that.”
As soon as I lifted my hand back up again, she grinned at me. “Where would be the fun in that?”
This time when I fell asleep, I only dreamed of normal things.
But in all of them, I was happy.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Evie
“So, how long have y’all been together now?” my client, Hannah, asked me as I folded the last foil in her hair.
“Uh, about five weeks now.”
Smiling at me in the mirror, she held her hand up for a high five. “Great to see you looking so happy, babe. And Detective Bell looks happy, too.”
That was something I kept hearing, and it gave me peace. Isn’t that what we want? To know we’re making the people in our lives happy, especially people like Cody and Alex, who’d been through things that had a profound negative impact, mentally and emotionally.
Patting her shoulder, I pointed at Sayla. “If you need anything, get her to give me a shout. I’m just going to the bathroom for a minute.”
“Knock yourself out, girl.”
I’d only just taken two steps away when the front door burst open, and three of the Townsend women along with Isla Montgomery came running through it.
“I need your help,” Sonya wailed, holding her hands out like she was begging. “Please, I need you to fix this.”
Looking at the cap on her head, I exchanged a knowing look with Jacinda and Sayla, who were both standing watching her closely.
“What did you do?”
“We were watching some of your videos on TikTok—I loved your tutorial on the mermaid braid, by the way,” Sonya said, squeezing my hand. “It’s insane that we can do that to ourselves without other people helping us out. And the makeup tutorial for—"
“Uh, Sonya?” Maya called. “Focus on the problem.”
Looking over her shoulder, she mumbled, “Right, right.” Then, turning back, she glanced nervously around the room. “I’m not sure I can take this off here in front of everyone.”
“You’re good, babe,” Hannah said, and whatever she was doing had Sonya’s eyes widening. Following where she was looking, I saw Hannah holding her phone in the air as she recorded what was going on. “Always wanted to have a video of a hair fuck up, so don’t mind me.”
“Jesus,” Jacinda muttered behind me. “Hannah, put your phone away. Sonya, we can take you through to the back if you want?”
“Why?”
“Why what?” Sayla asked as she joined us.
“Why go through to the back?” Sonya explained, making all of our heads jerk.
See, a customer coming in stressed and begging for help usually meant they’d fucked their hair up. Exhibit A for that in this instance would be the cap on her head. Exhibit B would be the partial ponytail I could see hanging out of her pocket—that chose to fall to the ground at that precise moment. Us offering her the back room to show us what the issue was gave her some privacy and hopefully took away some of her embarrassment.
Covering my mouth with my hand, I pointed at the chunk of hair on the ground.
“You might have dropped that.”
She squealed when she saw it, and that’s when shit happened.
Ripping off her cap, she showed us something that belonged in a hair nightmare museum.
“Damn,” Sayla whistled. “What in the ever-loving hell did you do to yourself, girl?”
The women who’d accompanied her all took a seat in the waiting area, right next to where we were standing.
“Wolf cut challenge,” Jacinda whispered to me, making me nod.