justadude
The salon door hadn’t even clicked shut behind them before Val’s hand was in her hair again. Not the top—the fringe stayed perfect, blunt and glossy under the afternoon sun—but the sides. Her fingertips dragged up the smooth, naked skin just above her ear, over the tiny pulse of her temple, around to the back where the razor had left her impossibly bare. She could feel the heat of her own skin, still flushed from the lather, from the blade, from everything.
“I can’t stop touching it,” she whispered, half to herself, as she slid into the passenger seat.
Doug didn’t start the truck right away. He just watched her—her fingers tracing the shaved curve over and over, her dark lips parted, chest rising and falling in shallow little hitches. She caught herself in the side mirror and froze. The woman staring back looked like someone else. Someone severe. Someone dangerous.
“Val.” Doug’s voice was rough, raw at the edges. “Look at me.”
She turned, and the full weight of his gaze landed on her. His eyes moved over her shaved skull, the sharp line of her jaw, the wet shine of her lipstick. His hand came up, and he ran one knuckle down the side of her neck, following the path Mindy’s razor had taken. Val shivered so hard her thighs squeezed together.
“You are the sexiest thing I have ever seen,” he said, each word deliberate, landing low in her belly. “That cut. That makeup. The way you looked in that chair, telling her exactly what you wanted.” His thumb traced the shell of her ear, then the bare skin behind it. “I almost came in my jeans just watching you sit there.”
Val let out a shaking breath. Her hand drifted to his thigh, then higher, finding the hard, thick line of him beneath the denim. He was still hard. Painfully hard. She squeezed, and he groaned through his teeth.
“Drive,” she whispered. “Please, daddy. Take me home.”
Doug started the truck and pulled out onto the road, but he kept one hand on her knee, his thumb stroking slow circles through the fabric of her jeans. Every few seconds, Val lifted her other hand to the mirror, tilting her chin, turning her head, watching the light catch the smooth planes of her skull.
“I still can’t believe it,” she murmured, her voice thick with wonder and arousal. “I can feel the air on my skin. It’s like… I’m more somehow.”
“You’re more because you let go,” Doug said. “You went in there and asked for what you wanted. You told her to shave you. That was the sexiest part—hearing your voice shake while you said please.”
Val’s thighs clenched again. The seam of her jeans pressed against her clit, and she bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning. “I was so nervous. My heart was pounding the whole time.”
“Tell me,” Doug said. “Tell me how it felt.”
She turned to him, and he was looking at her with that possessive, hungry expression that made her stomach drop and her cunt throb. He wanted the words. Wanted to hear how she’d come apart under someone else’s hands while he watched.
“When I asked for it,” Val began, her voice soft and unsteady, “I felt like I was standing on the edge of something. Like if I said the words, I couldn’t go back. And part of me didn’t want to.”
Doug’s grip on her knee tightened. “But you said them anyway.”
“I did.” She licked her lips. “And the way she looked at me after—like she knew. Like she could see exactly what it was doing to me.”
“What was it doing to you?”
Val’s eyes fluttered shut for a second, and when she opened them, they were glossy, dark with need. “I was soaked, daddy. Before she even turned the clippers on. When she tilted my head down and told me to be a good girl, I thought I might come from just her voice.”
Doug swore under his breath. His hand slid up her thigh, fingers pressing into the heat between her legs. She gasped, her hips tilting forward, and he could feel the dampness through the denim.
“And when the clippers touched you?” he prompted.
Val moaned, the memory flickering across her face. “It was like being stripped. Layer by layer. Every pass of the blade made me lighter, emptier, hungrier. I touched myself under the cape. I couldn’t stop. I just—needed to feel something. The vibration in my skull, the hair falling, the way she held my head—I was right there, daddy. Right on the edge the whole time.”
Doug’s hand bore down, and Val let out a broken cry, her hips grinding into his palm. “And the razor?” he asked, his voice barely a growl.
“That was worse,” she admitted. “The lather was so warm, and she pulled my skin so tight. Each scrape made my clit pulse. I thought I was going to shatter in that chair, in front of everyone.”
“But you didn’t.” Doug pulled his hand back, and Val whimpered at the loss. “You held it together. You saved it.” He looked at her, eyes black with intent. “Saved it for me.”
“Yes.” The word came out like a prayer. “For you, daddy. Only you.”
The truck rolled into their driveway, and for a beat, neither of them moved. The engine ticked in the silence. Val’s pulse thundered in her throat, between her legs, against the bare skin where his hand had just been.
“How do you feel now?” Doug asked, turning in his seat to face her.
Val reached up and touched her shaved nape again, her fingers trembling as they slid over the smooth, stubble-free skin. “Beautiful,” she said, and the word cracked on her tongue. “Owned. Alive. I feel like I’m exactly what you made me.”
Doug cupped her face with both hands, his thumbs brushing the sharp edges of her cheekbones. “You did this, Val. You asked for it. You chose it. And watching you choose it—fuck, I’ve never loved you more.”
Her breath caught. He kissed her then, not soft, not gentle, but deep and bruising and full of the same desperate hunger that had been building since the salon. Val moaned into his mouth, her fingers fisting his shirt, pulling him closer as if she could crawl inside him.
When they finally broke apart, Doug’s forehead pressed to hers, both of them breathless. “Inside,” he said hoarsely. “Now. I want to see that shaved neck laid out on my pillow while I fuck you senseless.”
Val’s dark lips curved into a smile that made his cock jerk behind his zipper. “Yes, daddy.”
She was out of the truck before him, walking toward the door with her head high, her hand already rubbing that smooth, bare nape like she couldn’t get enough of it.
Doug followed, his eyes fixed on the pale curve of her skull, and he knew—she would never be anything less than his again
