Page 33 of Poolside

TRYIN’ TO DIGEST OAK BARK

TOMMY

Tommy pushed through the door of the brightly lit salon, having jogged through the rain after parking his car on the street.

Rebecca swept over to him, looking beautiful as always in some sort of a jumpsuit with wide, flowing pants and a tight bodice on top. Her lips were a deep maroon that matched the floral details of the fabric, and her braids hung loose down her back.

He looked around, impressed. Rebecca’s salon was clean and professional, with four chairs and what looked like a table for doing nails along one of the walls. The walls were covered in bright, abstract artwork.

“This looks great,” he said, leaning in to give her a hug. “Seriously. Amazing what you’ve done with the place.”

She smiled. “Thank you. It’s crazy to think we’ve been here more than a year.”

“What’s up, asshole?”

Tommy glanced over at Maggie, who was in her usual attire of dark jeans and a worn band t-shirt, her now-pink hair pulled back in a ponytail. They’d first met Maggie when she was bartending at The Grove to put herself through beauty school. Rebecca had brought Maggie on for an apprenticeship a while ago, and, according to Rebecca, the other woman was getting on well.

Apparently her bedside manner still needed some work.

He turned back to Rebecca. “You let your employees talk to customers that way?”

Rebecca shrugged. “It’s you, so I’ll let it slide.”

Tommy scoffed, but couldn’t keep the amused smile from his face. He liked Maggie. She was honest as shit and didn’t hold back. She also was out for Keaton’s blood, which was endlessly amusing to him. Everybody liked Keaton—except for her.

“Go sit over in that third chair and we’ll get started.”

Rebecca appeared a moment later in the mirror with a black apron tied around her waist. Maggie came over and stood beside her. At Tommy’s confused look, Maggie shot him a grin. “I’m learnin’. Okay with you if I look on?”

“Sure.” Tommy trusted that Rebecca wouldn’t let Maggie shave his head or do anything too wild under her watch.

Rebecca looked down at Tommy’s head as her fingers threaded absentmindedly through his hair. “What are we doing today?”

Tommy looked up at his hair in the mirror. “I just want it neat. Professional. I usually blow-dry it in the mornings and use some product to tame it, so it’s okay if it’s a little longer up top.”

“Perfect. Let’s get you washed and then we’ll have you out of here in less than an hour.”

Tommy felt himself relax as Rebecca worked expert fingers through his hair, massaging in the shampoo. His neck and shoulders had been tight for the past week, no matter how much stretching he did at home.

He’d had a lot on his mind. There was the promotion on the horizon, which meant every little thing he did at work mattered. Every sales report, every dissatisfied customer, every employee review took all of his focus and attention. He was logging longer hours to keep up with it all.

You want this, he sometimes had to remind himself when the demands of the job had him running around town putting out fires.You’re doing this because you want this fucking promotion and everything is going to get easier when you get it.

He’d barely seen Chuck outside of their swimming practices, and he missed him. He missed being at his house and sharing dinner. He missed the download at the end of the day, the chance to decompress with someone who actually gave a shit about how he was doing.

And then there was the wholemasturbating in the carthing.

Thathad happened.

He’d fucked his fist thinking about his best friend, and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it ever since. He’d been thinking about dicks and mouths and all of the things two people with dicks could get up to.

Now that he’d started thinking about it, he couldn’t stop. There was a niggling in his brain that provided an endless stream of ‘what if’s.’

Tommy and Courtney had had a lot of sex during their marriage. Good sex. He’d left their encounters with his dick happy and his heart full. What more was there to ask for?

He knew blowjobs. He knew the wet suction of a hot mouth. He’d felt a throat constrict around the head of his dick. But when he’d looked down he’d seen the features of a woman. He’d felt full tits pressing against his thighs.

What if?

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