Page 74 of Reckless Harmony

“Why? Because you think only women are good at waxing? So, now you’re a wimp and sexist?”

She glared at him. “I can’t imagine a woman would let you near her vagina for waxing or sex, Stark. Not after talking with you for more than five minutes.”

“Actually, I do rather well in that department,” he said.

“I guess some women think arrogance is sexy,” she said.

He just shrugged before glancing at her crotch again. “How long has that wax been there?”

“What does it matter?” she asked.

“Because it’ll have hardened, which means you won’t be able to remove it. At least not without ripping off a layer of skin.”

She stared at the bloody strip in the sink, her crotch already protesting at the thought of trying to remove the other one.

“You need oil to remove it,” he said.

She cursed under her breath. “I don’t have any baby oil.”

“Olive oil will work,” he said.

She glanced at her phone again. “Shit. I’m going to be late.”

Without bothering to say thanks, she left the bathroom and hurried to the kitchen. Christ, her crotch hurt.

She hunted through the cupboards, screaming again when Stark said, “Make sure you use a lot of oil.”

She whirled around with the olive oil bottle in her hand. “How the hell did you get in my house?”

“Climbed in through the bathroom window,” he said like it was perfectly normal for him to climb into her bathroom.

“Why?” she said, her exasperation clear.

“Thought you might need help.” He shrugged. “I’m being a good neighbour.”

“I do not need help,” she said as she poured some olive oil on a paper towel.

“We’ll see.” He crossed his arms and watched as she stuck her hand under her too-short nightgown and dabbed at the strip stuck to her crotch.

She set the paper towel on the counter and gripped the strip with shaking fingers, giving it a light, experimental tug.

“Fuck!” She blew out a breath, her legs joining in on the shaking. “It still hurts.”

“Did you use enough oil?” Stark asked.

She glared at him. “I have no fucking idea. Get that look off your face.”

“What look is that?”

“The look that says you’re enjoying the show.”

He grinned, and her burning crotch immediately tingled in response. Christ, now was not the fucking time for her inappropriate lust for her enemy to kick in.

“You need to leave,” she said as she glanced at her phone. “Shit, look what time it is. You and your stupid oil idea! I could have maybe, maybe, gone on my date with a wax strip stuck to my cooch, but now it’s covered in oil and blood and wax and….”

She grabbed the strip and gave it a fierce yank, screaming when fresh, hot pain ripped across her labia, and the strip didn’t move an inch.

Her scream didn’t wake poor deaf Bea, who was snoring away on her bed in the kitchen, but Stark winced before striding toward her and picking up the oil-laden paper towel. “You definitely didn’t use enough oil.”

---