Page 62 of Tarek

I blink rapidly. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Without another word she opens her robe like a Central Park exhibitionist, showing me exactly what she means.

I inhale sharply as I take in the soft curves of her breast and stomach, the memory of how she felt in my hand floods back to me- soft and pliable. Instantly, the blood from my head rushes south. But then I see the purple wax smeared across her thighs and the moment shifts.

I snort struggling to keep my laughter in check. “How did you even manage that?”

“I was trying to follow Ms. Waxy on YouTube,” she says, her eyes welling up with tears. “I’m going to be stuck like this forever aren’t I?”

“You know there is always the circus, or you can become a display at The Madame Tussaud wax museum.” I counter trying to hold in my laugh.

She glares at me wrapping the robe back around herself. “Get out.”

“All I want to know is…how, Penelope?” I ask, feeling her small hands on my back as she tries to push me out the room.

“You’re making fun of me, and I need help!” she cries, her voice trembling with frustration, and I can practically hear her little feet stomping on the floor.

I turn around slowly, raising my hands in surrender. “Okay, Okay, I can help you.”

She is as cute as a button, her cheeks flushes pink with both anger and embarrassment.

“Help? How? By driving me crazy?” She pouts crossing her arms over her chest. “I can do it by myself.”

With a sigh, I start to take off my jacket, followed by my bowtie, ready to offer whatever help she needs.

“Where were you going?” she asks.

Rolling up my sleeve, I say, “There’s a gala tonight. Rhet is getting an award. Now take off the robe and lay down.”

She perks up. “Oh Zeeta got a hot dress for that event. I hope her boss likes it.”

“You ready?” I ask, eyeing the bed.

She hesitates, glancing back at the bed. “Ready? Ready for what? I don’t really need your help.”

“I am not asking you, Penelope.”

She nibbles her thumbnail, her eyebrows arching as if she is in deep thought, weighing her options before making a final decision.

“I’m leaving my robe on,” she declares sitting at the edge of the bed with her legs still pressed together.

I stand over her, my crotch is at her eye level. A small smile plays on her lips as she looks up at me.

Slowly I drop to my knee between her thighs. “Let me get the wax off first Treasure. Lean back.”

She groans flopping back on the bed. “This is so embarrassing.”

I take her legs, carefully prying them open steadying them on my shoulders. My focus? Shot to hell. I’m trying though. Trying to be good.

“Penelope, you made a mess.” I flick the glob of wax crusted over her clit, making her jump, her thighs tensing against my neck.

I lift my head, and my eyes meet hers. “What?”

She shakes her head and drops it back to the bed.

“I can tell that you used oil, and it didn’t work,” I pinch a glossy piece of wax stuck on the soft inside of her thighs, rubbing it between my fingers like evidence.

I reach into my pocket and pull out my switchblade.

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