Page 178 of Scars Like Wings

“You’re getting in with me?”

“Of course. I know washing natural curls can take an hour, but locs? They hold onto water tighter than I hold on to my sanity. I don’t want to put your legs through that.”

I laughed. Quinn took off her shirt, jeans, sports bra, and boxer briefs until she was naked. I looked her up and down, taking her in. Gods, I would never be able to get over how gorgeous she was. Even though I had just eaten, I was hungry all over again.

Quinn watched me look at her and smirked. She sauntered over to me. She took my face in her hands. Her eyes were dark, her smolder hot enough to keep me warm in the coldest winters imaginable.

“Let me take care of you, Byrd,” Quinn whispered in such a way that went straight to my core and my heart.

All I could do was nod.

Our lips met, and I melted into her. I was clay in her hands, ready to do anything and everything that she wanted. She kissed me deeply and lovingly. There was no lust in this. She was focused on showering me in a different desire.

Quinn pulled my shirt over my head and made quick work of my bra, too. Without breaking our kiss, she managed to wiggle me out of my tights, shorts, and panties in one fell swoop. The cold air made goosebumps prickle my skin for the briefest moment before Quinn took my lips again. Then she lifted me and carried me over to the tub. With ease, she settled us both down into the water. It felt divine.

“Turn around,” Quinn instructed, and I listened. The water sloshed against the edges of the tub as I leaned back against Quinn. I couldn’t tell if it was the water or her, but the warmth was soaking into my soul.

Quinn turned the faucet back on, but set it to use the handheld nozzle. She wetted my hair, ensuring every loc was dripping with water. Then she got some of my shampoo and got to work massaging it into my scalp and roots. Her fingers hit all the right points, scratching and working in the shampoo. She wasn’t gentle, but she wasn’t so hard that it hurt. I wasn’t tender-headed by any means. I actually preferred my locticians to scrub and dig into my scalp to ensure it was clean. Quinn applied the perfect amount of roughness that my scalp needed. It was the best kind of spa treatment. There was something about Quinn doing it, too, that just made my toes curl. I couldn’t tell if it was how good of a job she was doing or that she was doing it at all. It was so simple, this act of intimacy, but there was a depth of love there that I couldn’t describe. In that moment, I had never felt closer to Quinn. I don’t think I had ever loved her anyone more than in this moment. I moaned in pure ecstasy.

“Does that feel good, baby girl?” Quinn asked, her chest behind me vibrating from her voice.

“You have no idea. Please don’t stop.”

Quinn chuckled. “What was that about not knowing about locs?”

“Shut up and keep at it, Magic Fingers.”

Quinn laughed.

She rinsed out my shampoo, wringing out each individual loc until the water from them ran clear. Then she conditioned my locs and did the same thing to ensure they were clean and no product lingered inside. I don’t think my locs had ever felt cleaner.

She drained the tub, and magicked towels, courtesy of Cleo, came to us before the chill from the air could cause our skin to pebble. Quinn wrapped us in the towels and dried us off. She grabbed a lint-free towel for my damp locs and wrapped them up as well. After getting dressed in some lounge clothes—Quinn borrowed one of Everett’s old shirts I had stolen from him and put her undies back on since I didn’t have anything else that would fit her here—Quinn carried me downstairs with hair supplies in tow. Just like when I was a kid with my mom plaiting my hair for school the next day, I sat between Quinn’s legs and she started twisting my locs one-by-one to get the new growth loc’d up. She was methodical and deft, working better than most professionals I had been to see. Plus, we both got to catch up on our favorite trashy reality television shows while she did it.

I couldn’t have asked for a better day.

Quinn plaited my locs into my favorite style that I could never do: a braided half-up half-down ponytail style with pieces left to frame my face. She put golden hair jewelry and crystals in my locs, too, from my stash. It was so cute. I was admiring it and about to send pictures to Simone and Maisie when Everett texted that he would spend the night at Teddy’s since it was closer to work, anyway.

When Quinn came back from putting my hair products back in the bathroom, I turned to her from the couch and asked her eagerly. “Can you spend the night with me, fellow human?”

Quinn smiled slowly, and my heart threatened to explode with love.

Quinn joined me in my bed that night, but we didn’t do anything except cuddle and hold each other close until we fell asleep. The next morning, when Quinn’s phone went off with a call for a work assignment, we had to untangle ourselves from each other. Her voice was so deep and raspy with sleep as she answered the phone. I wanted it to be the first thing I heard every morning.

I wanted Quinn to be my first and last everything, to complete me and be my forever.

I walked her to the door, and she took me in her arms. Our kiss was a morning one, barely awake, clinging to each other like the last bits of dreams. She nuzzled her face into my neck, and I giggled.

“I hate that I have to go,” Quinn mumbled.

“I know. I want to always do this with you. I want every day to be a perfect date and then end with a perfect night and wake up to you to do it all over again. I don’t want to pretend to be human to do it. I just want it to be us being perfectly us together.” I clung to her hair, inhaling the scent of citrus and smoky chocolate.

“I know. We are going to have that. I’m going to figure out how. I want this forever with you, Byrd. I’m so happy right now I’m sure the others are going to flame me alive when I get there,” Quinn joked.

I kissed her. “We’ll figure it out together. I love you so much, starlight.”

“I love you back, sweetness. I’ll see you again soon.”

Swans

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