Page 82 of Fight

“It was worth a try,” I tease her, tapping on her pulse and getting the gasp I wanted from her. Picking up a few articles of clothing from the bags on the couch and a hair brush, I head to the bathroom to shower.

Humming the song I heard in the car, I turn on the light and pop my head in suspiciously.

“Pranks only work the first time,” Cerenity sing-songs as she walks by me. “I’m headed to the club in a bit.”

“Alone?” I ask, brow raised.

“Well, my car is totaled, so no,” she says, turning to face me. “Ugh, I need to call the car insurance too while I’m down there. The club is opening tomorrow and I want to make sure everything is ready to go.”

“So Augustine is taking you to work,” I press, needing to know. My instincts are going wild, even though she said she wouldn’t go alone.

“Yes,” she sighs. “Auggie is driving me, Daddy.”

My cock twitches in my shorts as she walks away, as does my palm. So much damn sass. I didn’t think I’d like it as much as I do.

“Good girl,” I murmur before I can hold myself back. Cerenity visibly shudders before practically running to her room, making me chuckle. She’s so damn cute and sexy.

Sighing, I turn back to the bathroom, looking around thoroughly before putting my clothes on the sink and closing the door behind me.

“Looks safe enough,” I mutter as I pull off my clothes and locate two large towels. I’m not bougie, my hair just needs its own towel, since there’s so much of it. Opening the shower curtain, I shrug as I turn on the water and wait for it to warm up. I hate freezing cold showers.

Stepping inside, I sigh happily as I wash my body with the masculine scented body wash in here. This must be Augustine’s bathroom, though I also see hair conditioner too. I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth too closely, because my mane is in desperate need of some self care.

Pouring some shampoo into my hand, I lather my shoulder-length hair. The sides are closely trimmed so I have an undercut on each side of my head to help with how hot I get more than the idea that it looks cool.

I can’t wash my full beard very often, so I skip shampooing it. The damn song I can’t get out of my head continues through my mind, and I get lost in the melody as I condition my hair.

Leaving it piled at the top of my head with the product, I hum as I wash my ass again and my legs. Fuck, Jasper is a tyrant for a trainer. He’s the reason our fighters are in such incredible condition. I tend to forget to offer praise where it’s due, so I remind myself to tell him.

Thoroughly rinsing out my hair, I turn off the water and grab a towel as I squeeze out all of the excess moisture. Gah, it’s such a process to deal with this, but I’m a bit vain and would rather go through this than cut my hair. Wrapping it in the towel, I dry off before I step out and stare at the fogged up mirror.

Opening the door a little, I grab the toothbrush I have from last night and brush my teeth, hearing the front door open and close. Augustine seems to be talking on the phone, allowing me to relax. I hate apartment living. It’s not fucking secure. The doors are flimsy, which is why I really want to buy a house.

Spitting in the sink, I grumble under my breath as I rinse my mouth, the mirror finally defogging.

“I should have bought a hair dryer,” I mutter under my breath.

“What was that?” Augustine asks as he passes by the door.

“I’m complaining to myself is all,” I say, opening the door wider. “My hair takes forever to dry, so I was just thinking that I should have grabbed a hair dryer.”

Nodding, Augustine shrugs. “Cere has one. It’s not a big deal. I’ll go grab it.”

“Thanks, man,” I tell him with a grin, shutting the door to get dressed. The towels hit the ground as I pull on my clothes. Since I’m taking a meeting, I decided to go with a black-buttoned down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black pants. Turning to grab the hairbrush, my eyes land on the mirror in horror.

“What the fuck,” I mutter as I pick up a vibrantly blue strand. “Cerenity!”

Opening the door, I’m met with Augustine whose jaw drops as he sees my hair.

“She’s responsible for this, isn’t she?” I growl. Seeing Cerenity’s guilty look as she peeks around Augustine’s body, I take a deep breath. “Bluebell, if you wanted me to match you, you should have said.”

This is some kind of fucked up penance, and as high as my blood pressure is and as red as my fucking face is, I’ll be fine. I can handle some ribbing because my omega decided to play a prank. Blue hair it motherfucking is.

Forcing another breath through my lungs, I raise my brow before I wink at her. I’m fucking pissed, but more at myself. I should have checked the Goddamned conditioner bottle. This is my fault.

“At least no one can complain about my monochronistic wardrobe, hey?”

Leaving her open mouthed, I pluck the hair dryer from Augustine’s hand. “I’ll have you know that Daddy is counting your spankings, Bluebell, and you’re currently at four.”

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