As much as she loved her little hometown, her daddy had been right.
Ain’t nothin’ here for a smart, pretty girl like you. The city is full of opportunity. But it’s also rampant with sin.
Then he’d switched into preacher mode and lectured her about avoiding the devil’s temptations. She always wondered why her three brothers never shared the brunt of his tirades. But being the only girl did have its advantages. She’d had three full time bodyguards at school and never wore a single hand-me-down, as most of her friends did. She always dressed in the latest fashion, as long as it conformed to her father’s conservative standards. Not that she didn’t miss her mother, she did. She’d forgiven Momma long before they learned she’d passed away.
Shoving the painful thought away, she rearranged the products at her station for the third time that morning. When the phone rang, she hurried to the reception desk to answer it. That was how she’d picked up two new clients just last week.
“Salon on the Avenue. How may I help you?”
But the caller wanted an appointment with Cassie. Dropping her shoulders, she wrote the name on the book. As she replaced the phone on the hook, the door chime sounded. She glanced up and gasped at the scruffy biker guy coming through.
Like the man Momma ran off with.
Her gut roiled. She pasted on a smile as he approached the desk. His brown hair hung past his shoulders and his scraggly beard made him look like a member of that eighties band with those three scary looking members—ZZ something.
He carried a helmet under his arm and wore a T-shirt that might have been black in a former life. His jeans were ripped at the knees and his leather boots had definitely seen better days. “G’morning.”
She couldn’t even tell if he was smiling or frowning under all that facial hair. Either way, his presence alone gave her a headache. “Good morning. What can I do for you?”
“Fix me up.”
She narrowed her gaze. What exactly did he mean by that? “Have you been here before?” She seriously doubted he had. The man didn’t look like he’d been anywhere near a pair of shears or a razor for many years.
“No, ma’am. But I need a haircut. And a shave.” His gaze slid over her and his eyes narrowed to slits. “Can you do it?”
She gulped. Why couldn’t he be something other than a biker? Anything else. Beside, where would she begin on a hairy mess like him? One of the more experienced hairdressers should handle this. Most of the other operators had been at this for years. She was the only one who was fresh out of school. She checked the appointment book, but everyone else was booked the rest of the day. “Well, I…I…” How could she get out of this?
Devon came over and glanced down at the schedule. “When my next client gets here, tell her I’ll be right back, would you? I have to grab a bite or I’ll pass out.”
“Um, sure.”
“Everything okay?” Devon said.
“Yeah. This gentleman would like a haircut and a shave.”
Devon gave her a blank stare. “You can handle that.” She grinned at the biker. “April’s the only barber in the place. She’s just the woman for the job.” She patted April’s shoulder then nudged her away. “Time is money,” she murmured under her breath.
Right—money. April had to deal with the man. Didn’t matter that he was a biker. She didn’t have the option to refuse any clients. She could handle it. For heaven’s sake, she’d run a house full of men and boys from the time she was ten. Certainly she could give one scruffy biker a cut and shave. Wasn’t like he was the man Momma had run off with. “Right this way, sir.”
He set his helmet on the counter. “Ready when you are.”
Forcing a smile, she led him to the sinks and draped a cape over his shoulders.
She had to admit, he smelled good, like pine trees. Not at all what she’d expected. He sat on the chair and she went to work, wetting and scrubbing his hair. “How much are we taking off?”
“Usually I know a lady’s name before I answer such a personal question.”
Her cheeks heated. “I’m April.”
“Pleasure to meet you, April. My name’s Nick.”
He sure had nice eyes, as blue as the ocean at South Beach.
Maybe the man who’d seduced Momma away from us had nice eyes too.
She toweled off his hair then led him to her station. “So, just a trim?”
“Hell no.”
She winced at his language. “I’d appreciate if you’d watch your mouth here. I don’t care for cursing.”
His brow lifted for a moment, then he grinned. “Excuse me, April. That was rude and no way to speak around a lady.” He cleared his throat. “I want all of it cut off. I need it short and professional. And I’d like you to get rid of the beard and moustache. Please.”
She eyed him. Were all bikers this polite? She’d never actually had a conversation with one before. She’d always assumed they’d be rude and mean. But since he wanted to look professional, perhaps he was giving up his biker lifestyle. “I think you’ll look a million times better without all this hair.”
He let out a chuckle and she feared he might get up and leave. And that was the last thing she wanted. Not only would the day be a total loss, but Devon would probably be angry if the man walked out now. “I didn’t mean to offend you,” she said.
“Takes more than that to offend me. In fact, I suspect I heard a compliment in there somewhere.”
She felt her face flush again. Grabbing a comb, she started removing the tangles from his hair. She glanced in the mirror and caught him staring at her reflection.
With those piercing eyes.
I am not attracted to a biker.
But she couldn’t condemn him just because he rode a motorcycle. That wouldn’t be fair. But she sure as heck didn’t want to feel that heat blooming in her belly.
Her pulse quickened. Tearing her gaze from the mirror, she traded the comb for her scissors and went to work, trimming and shaping. He had great hair, soft and shiny with loads of body. When she’d finished the haircut, she turned him to face her then started on his beard and moustache.
“So what do you do, Nick?” She used her shears to trim his facial hair short enough so she could shave the rest.
“Besides search for pretty hairdressers to make a respectable man of me?”
Did he just call me pretty? No one but Daddy’s ever said anything like that before.
She managed a laugh. “Um, yeah.”
“I’m in the motorcycle business.”
Could he be involved in one of those outlaw gangs that cruised the highways looking for trouble?
A shiver rolled over her skin. She snipped at the whiskers growing from his upper lip. “You must get to travel a lot, hmm?”
“Nope. Not anymore. I stick pretty close to home. Do you like to travel?”
“Me?” She couldn’t hold back a snicker. Her father had only taken the family to neighboring towns with churches that had needed a fill-in preacher. “I’d love it. The furthest I’ve ever been is Georgia. Hold still now.” She spread shaving cream over his face. Did he know by time she was finished there was no way he’d look the part of a biker? Why did he want to suddenly clean up? She took her straight razor out of her drawer and carefully checked the blade.
His eyebrows shot higher. “You do know how to use that thing, right?”
“Of course.” In truth, she hadn’t done many shaves, but her barber teacher said she had a great technique.
His Adam’s apple slid up and down his throat. “Okay.” He leaned his head back and shut his eyes.
“The shop carries insurance anyway. Just in case I slice open a vein or something. No worries.” She couldn’t resist teasing him.
His eyes flew open. When he saw her smile, he laughed. “Not funny.”
As she removed the remnants of his beard and moustache, a surprisingly handsome man emerged.
Holy cow. He’s gorgeous.
Too bad the man didn’t have
a lucrative job or he’d be almost irresistible.
To other women. She could never go for a biker. Daddy would ring her neck. She placed a hot towel over his face for a minute, then used a soft brush to clean away stray pieces of hair. After dusting his neck with powder, she removed the cape and turned him toward the mirror.
He stared at his reflection a long moment. “Hey, I remember him. Haven’t seen him for years.”
“You like it?”
He threw her a wink that heated her insides.
Behave. He’s all wrong for me.
“Now all I need is to figure out what kind of clothes to buy and I’ll be all set.”
She grabbed a broom and started sweeping away the hair from the floor. “For what?”
He drew a deep breath. “I have some important meetings coming up. I’m trying to raise the capital to expand my business. My stockbroker put me in touch with a group of investors but before they’ll agree to sink money into my company, I have to wow them.”
His stockbroker? Okay, so he had an actual business. And he was apparently smarter—and probably richer—than she’d guessed. Smart enough to know that a bunch of stuffed shirts would look at his old biker self and move on to a different deal. “Good luck. You look much more the part of the savvy businessman now.”
He stood up out of the chair and immediately found the dustpan. Crouching low, he held it for her.
“Thanks. We don’t expect our clients to help with the cleanup, though.”
He grinned up at her and her heart pounded double time. “But it’s my pleasure. This way I get to look at you a little longer.”
Her breath caught. She swept the rest of the hair into the pan and waited as he emptied it into the trash. “Th-that’ll be eighteen dollars, please.”
He took a silver money clip from his back pocket and peeled off a bill. “I enjoyed talking to you, April. You did a great job.” He handed her a fifty. “Keep the change.”
She didn’t want him to leave. Something about him captivated her.
Daddy would never approve of me dating a biker.
He stared deep into her eyes for several seconds and desire heated her blood. Then he turned and strode out of the salon. Out of her life forever. Her heart sank.
Hoping for a final glimpse of him, she crossed the salon to the reception desk and watched through the glass door as he climbed onto his motorcycle and rode away.
Devon joined her behind the counter. “Talk about Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”
April crumpled into the desk chair and sighed. “Who knew such a handsome guy was hiding behind all that scruffiness?”
“There’s something really sexy about bikers. Don’t you think? They have that bad-boy thing going on.”
April whipped her head toward Devon. “I would never go out with someone like him. My father would kill me.” The few men she’d dated were straight-laced, upstanding members of the community. Her ex-fiancé Johnny was the son of the mayor of Oakville. Lot of good that strategy had done her. He’d turned out to be nothing but a lying, cheating jerk.
“Oh, come on.” Devon rolled her eyes. “Do you always do what your daddy would approve?”
Nearly always. “He raised me to do what’s right.”
“You’re hopeless, April.” She shook her head.
A sharply dressed Hispanic woman came in and Devon hurried to her and pulled her into a hug. “Hey, Marisol. How have you been?” She ushered the woman to her nail table.
Left alone at the desk, April thought about Nick. She shouldn’t even entertain the notion of dating a biker.
But she couldn’t get his amazing eyes and his polite, down-to-earth demeanor off her mind. Despite herself, she said a silent prayer that he’d return to the salon, soon.
* * * * *
Nick Ramos parked in his regular spot at Ramos Motorcycles of Miami. He climbed off his bike then removed his helmet. His head felt strangely light without all his hair.
One of the mechanics strode past and did a double take. “Holy cow. Is that you, boss?”
“It’s me.” He grinned at the shock on the man’s face.
“You look like a million bucks.”
Nick chuckled. He hoped the investors he’d lined up felt the same way. Entering his office, he strode past his assistant.
“Excuse me, sir,” Betty said. “Can I help you?”
When he faced her, she gasped.
“Nick! Oh my god. You look…like a new man.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.” He closed himself in his office and scrubbed a hand over his smooth face. The foreign feeling jarred him. He’d had facial hair since he was a teenager. Sitting at his desk, he stared down at his clothes. If he planned to impress a group of stuffy bankers enough to sink money into his business, he’d have to do better than his ripped jeans and faded T-shirt. But nothing he owned seemed appropriate for the events he’d planned to woo them and he had less than two weeks to prepare.
He glanced through the window at Betty as she pulled a file from the metal cabinet. Her dark hair was twisted into a pretzel-like configuration she’d secured with a big white plastic clip. She wore a denim jumper that fit her about as well as a potato sack would. He didn’t have to see her feet to know she had on those same ratty slide sandals she always wore.
Shit. She doesn’t dress any better than I do.
He needed someone to take him shopping. Someone who had an eye for tasteful clothes that would make him look more the part of the successful entrepreneur. But who?
He stood and paced the floor. That sexy hairdresser kept popping into his head. Those pretty green eyes and full red lips. The sandy hair that shone in the light. And that hot body. She hid it under the conservative chinos and polo shirt, but not enough that he didn’t catch a glimpse of her enticing curves.
An epiphany slapped him upside the head. She’d be the perfect person to outfit him with the right clothes. She had the look down perfectly. Casual yet professional. And it gave him an excuse to go see her again.
He’d thought about her the entire ride back to work. Even considered going back to ask her out. But someone like her would never agree to date a guy like him. She probably went for the lawyer or accountant type. And she was practically shoving him away with the cold vibes she sent out. But damn, he’d love to get close to her, to smell her sweet strawberry scent again. To listen to her soft voice.
Betty burst into his office, ripping him back to reality. “Tire shipment just got here, Nick. And it’s all wrong. They screwed it up again.”
He switched into work mode. “Tell Ollie I’ll be right there.” As Betty called the shop manager on the intercom, Nick sorted through his inbox to find the paperwork for the order he’d placed last week. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off the headache he felt approaching. As usual, correcting his supplier’s mistake would probably take the rest of the day.
* * * * *
Nick lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. The grandfather clock in the living room chimed three times.
Damn it.
Only three hours until he had to get up. He should be fast asleep after such a long, stressful day, but he couldn’t get that girl off his mind.
April. Her name described her perfectly. Like a warm spring day—with the possibility of a cool wind left over from winter. He shut his eyes and pictured her pretty face. Her dangerous curves.
His cock stirred, grew at the mere thought of her. He imagined her standing before him in a grassy meadow, wearing a sheer nightgown with nothing underneath.
Wisps of her brown-and-gold hair lifted in the cool breeze. Her nipples puckered and hardened under his gaze. His mouth went dry as she stepped closer. He could smell her scent and it curled around his senses, drawing him to her like a moth to the brightest beacon of light.
She sat on a patchwork quilt then patted the spot next to her as she stared into his eyes. “Come,” she said.
He kneeled beside her. Her peaches-and-cream complex
ion flushed. Taking her face in his hands, he touched his lips to hers. She purred softly, opened to him and he tasted her tongue, like the sweetest candy. He explored her delicious mouth, swirled his tongue around hers, glided over her teeth.
Lust built inside him, but he had to go slow. She was like a fine wine, to be savored. Still, his cock grew heavy with need, but he kept his building lust in check. For the moment.
She whimpered softly as she broke the kiss. As he watched, mesmerized, she unbuttoned her gown and revealed her naked breasts to him. Then she lifted one in her hand, offering it.
His breath hitched. Staring at her pink nipple, he licked his lips. Desire coiled tighter inside him. Unable to resist, he strummed the peaked point, hard as a little marble. Then he swiped his tongue over it, scraped it with his teeth. He cupped the other breast and she let out a deliciously desperate moan. Moving his focus to that one, he gave it the same treatment, licking and nipping. He stopped a moment and stared at her beautiful breasts, incredulous she was allowing him to touch her. Him!
He’d left her areolas swollen and glossy from his attention and the sight ratcheted up his libido. Her skin was supple and soft as satin. He pinched and laved and played and she leaned her head back and bit her lip.
He needed more. He had to have all of her.
Naked.
Now.
Reading his thoughts, she shrugged off her nightgown and lay back on the blanket. Need quickened his pulse. He slid his gaze over her round breasts, the plane of her belly, the thatch of pale brown curls shielding her sex, her long, lovely legs.
He stretched out, propping himself on his elbow, feasting on her beauty. “Open your legs,” he commanded.
She did as he asked and his temperature spiked when he gazed upon her glistening red folds. She was soaked with her cream, slicked and ready for him.
He touched a finger to her pussy and nearly burned himself on her heat. She spread her legs wider, gave him a glimpse of her bud, engorged and ready. He couldn’t resist a taste.
Just a taste, although if he let go, he’d devour her. He moved lower and gave her pussy a hungry swipe of his tongue. Just as he thought. She was sweet as heaven.
Shades of Sexy: Six Uber Hot Stories Page 13