Page 44 of Second-Rate Superstar

“Agree to disagree.” She shrugged unapologetically. “Don’t tell me you’re not curious.”

My eyes bulged. “I can tell you with absolute certainty, a bikini wax has never—not once—crossed my mind.”

Hannah stalked forward, her voice softening. “You’re telling me you’ve never wondered what it would be like to have silk panties slide over bare skin, teasing your clit with every step you take?” I swallowed, but she continued, “The soft graze of a man’s fingers bringing goosebumps right there?”

Her words came out breathy, and the mental imagery had me more than a little turned on. My brain and body were not on the same page, and without warning, I blurted, “Yes.”

Biting her lower lip, Hannah was unable to hide her triumphant expression. “Thought so. You’ll thank me later.”

Hannah Moreau was not like any woman I’d ever met. She knew what she wanted and had no shame in the tactics used to get it. Somehow, I had landed on her radar, and something deep down inside of me knew I would never be the same.

The door opened, and a woman dressed in what looked like black pajamas entered.

Smiling, she introduced herself, “Hello, ladies. I’m Tina, and I’ll be your esthetician this morning. I’ve got you down for two Brazilians. Who would like to go first?”

I looked right at Hannah. There was no way I was getting on that table before her.

Rolling her eyes, she huffed, “Fine. I’m first.” Situating herself on the table, she muttered in my direction, “Baby.”

She could call me names all day long. Nothing would change the fact that I was in this room under duress.

Opening her robe, Hannah reclined, spreading her legs. I didn’t want to look. Lord knows I didn’t, but chalk it up to morbid curiosity, my gaze honed in on her pussy. Dark stubble was scattered across her mound—a dead giveaway she’d done this before—if her vivid description from earlier hadn’t been enough.

Tina smoothed translucent amber wax over the area with what looked like a popsicle stick before covering it with cloth strips. Peering up at Hannah, she asked, “You need a count?”

Shaking her head, Hannah replied, “Nope. Just do your thing.”

I watched on in horror as Tina tugged the first strip away, leaving a patch of bare skin. Hannah didn’t move a muscle or make a sound. How was that even possible? One by one, the cloths were removed, the skin beneath turning a pale pink in response. Using a warm cloth, Tina wiped away any lingering traces of wax before placing what she explained was a cooling balm over the area.

Hannah closed her robe and hopped off the table, tilting her head toward the seat she’d vacated. “Your turn.”

Pleading with her with my eyes, I begged, “Is there no way I can get out of this?”

She shook her head sharply, but her sapphire eyes sparked. “Nope. Consider it part of your research.”

“I don’t see how this pertains to hockey,” I argued.

“Braxton might be oblivious to the kind of book you’re writing, but I’ve been around the block. Also doesn’t hurt that Natalie is all about the word porn.”

My hackles raised. “Romance and erotica are not the same thing.”

“If there’s sex, it’s porn. And you won’t change my mind about that. But keep telling yourself whatever you need to sleep at night.” She paused. “Now, tell me, how many of your heroines are waxed?”

I scowled at Hannah. She’d backed me into a corner, but I couldn’t deny she had me pegged. “All of them,” I grumbled.

Smirking, her reply was chipper. “I rest my case.” Patting the table, she commanded, “Up you go.”

Steeling my nerves, I climbed onto the padded table. Reluctantly, I opened my robe and spread my legs. I wasn’t sporting an unruly bush; I trimmed it, but there was still a more significant amount of growth than Hannah had sported before her wax.

Eyeing the area, Tina set to work. The wax was warm, soothing almost, and I relaxed. That was, until she pulled the first strip. I yelped, the sting catching me off guard. I guess Hannah not needing a count meant I didn’t either.

“Wanna hold my hand?” I could hear the smile in Hannah’s voice even though my eyes were tightly shut.

“No,” I said, breathing through the pain. “Just get it over with.”

The second strip wasn’t quite as shocking, but it still hurt like a son of a bitch. Biting my lip, my eyes remained closed as I reminded myself to breathe. The last thing I needed was to pass out getting waxed and have paramedics called to find me naked and unconscious.

Finally, I felt the wet washcloth and the balm being spread over my abused skin. It must have contained aloe because it provided a cooling sensation to soothe the burn.

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