“Yes, you’re both getting the Spawesome Pamper Package.” Her grin is big. A little too big, like she’s holding back a laugh.
“Wait, am I missing something?”
She waves her hand to the wall behind her where a sign hangs, showcasing the details of this so-called Spawesome Pamper Package.
I read the first line to myself, and it’s a ‘doggy and me’ grooming package. An owner and dog manicure/pawdicure complete with a blueberry facial.
Nope.
Not today.
“Oh, I didn’t realize it was a joint thing.” I glance down at my trimmed nails. “I think I’m all good.”
Kiki looks at Spanky and parks both hands on her hips, looking sexy as hell. “Do you want a pawdicure with your daddy?”
He yelps out that same barking sound and wags his tail.
Traitor.
“Don’t you have some sort of drop off package thing?”
“Oh, come on. where’s the fun in that?” She gives me this slow smile that she hasn’t given me before, and I find myself whipping out my wallet to buy anything this girl is offering.
Next thing I know, I’m wearing a paw-print robe over my clothes and reclined in a leather chair with Spanky sitting on a smaller version next to me.
He looks like those dogs on the internet getting the complete spa package, all he’s missing is the cucumber slices over his eyes.
He’s loving this.
Kiss ass.
“I’m going to do the blueberry facial for you, while Spanky relaxes for a bit.”
Music plays in the room at a low volume as Kiki moves to a tall white cabinet, rattles some things around, and returns with a small bowl.
“Be gentle with me,” I tell her. And immediately, I envision hard and rough sex. Her bent over this chair with that little sundress pushed up over her ass and my dick sinking deep inside her pussy.
Fuck.
“I have the softest touch in town.” I’ll bet she does. She sets the bowl on a mini table beside me. “This will be a little cold at first,” she says, pressing her hands on my cheeks.
I jolt a little, and not because of the temperature of the paste, but because she’s touching me. And it feels fucking phenomenal.
Whisper-soft, she rubs the lotion into my skin, and I close my eyes, because if I keep gazing into hers right now, I may do something we’d both regret—like kiss her.
She massages my face, across my cheekbones and forehead, along the jaw, and I have to say, this is definitely spawesome. It’s like a perfectly crafted dance. Ever see Karate Kid?
The original ones, not the one with Will Smith’s kid. Daniel and the girl do this tea ceremony, and it’s like the slowest form of foreplay ever known to man.
That’s what this is. This is achingly slow foreplay.
But, I’m totally digging it.
I don’t dare say a word. I don’t even breathe until she stops rubbing and then places a warm cloth over my face.
“Your skin is so smooth,” she murmurs, removing the cloth from my face and reaching out to ghost her hand from my forehead to my jaw.
Our eyes connect and there’s really nothing in this moment that could make me break this connection.
Except, Spanky. He does that annoying little bark/yelp thing to interrupt the moment and she quickly pulls away.
Jackass.
“So when is the big day?” she asks, moving to a porcelain sink and washing her hands. “We should probably start planning.”
“Fuck. Listen, I have a confession.” She looks over her shoulder at me. “I don’t have a dog.”
“Are you ok?” She nearly has a unibrow at this point, but if anyone can rock it, she can. “I’m pretty sure that’s a dog beside you.”
“He’s not mine.” And then I keep going, “I kind of borrowed him.”
Hopefully, the wrinkle between Kiki’s brow is not an indication she's about to bolt from this room. There’s no way I can keep up the charade, though. I hate lying to her. I’d have to find a German Shepherd to marry Spanky and it’s just easier to come clean. Based on the way Spanky humps everything, I’m not sure he’s the marrying type anyway.
“Why would you do that?” she asks, her lower lip jutting out.
“I just wanted to take you out.”
She clears her throat and goes through an agonizingly slow process of drying her hands for what feels like centuries before she finally responds, “Take me out? Like a date?”
This girl is so dang pretty it’s hard to actually focus on what she’s saying. I know, I’m going to Hell. I’m not usually one of those types of guys. You know, the ones that can’t stop staring at a good set of tits. I’ve glanced at Kiki’s once or twice, but I’m not leering.
I’m appreciating.
“Well, going out doesn’t need a name.” I stand. “I want to get to know you.”
And I do. I want to know all about her spa and what she does for fun. I want to know the color of her panties and the sounds she makes when she comes. I’m not going to suggest we label this as friends, because there’s no way I’m putting myself in the deathly friend-zone.
“You look really stressed,” I tell her. “Want me to give you a facial?”
To my surprise, ‘cause I have no idea how to give a facial, she walks to the chair and sits down. “Yes,” she says, closing her eyes. “Use what’s left in the bowl.”
“Look, there’s a party at my brother’s house,” I tell her, dipping my fingers into the goo. I glide it beneath her eyes, like war paint. Her skin is like gossamer as I rub the pads of my thumbs across her cheeks. “You can come and hang out. You have to eat anyway.”
“A party. Hm,” she muses. “You don’t think it’s too soon?”
She’s not saying no, and I’m taking that as a good sign. “I think time is relative.”
“Ok,” she agrees, opening her eyes. “We can...socialize.”
I trace my fingers around the bow of her lips. “Yes, socialize. I like that.”
Now I’m fucking nervous. I don’t get nervous. This is my one shot, and why this is so important to me, I don’t know.
“Tell me about your business,” I say, gliding my fingers along her jaw.
She closes her eyes again and tells me all about how her and Poppi started the Dog Spaw with a small bank loan and a dream. How every bit of their success is because of their dedication to each client. She’s smart and that’s a big fucking turn on. I’m captivated by her, hanging on her every word.
I think the thing that makes her so damn attractive is she doesn’t even know how cute she is. She looks like a blueberry, and I love it. I want to lick it all off her face. God, it’s like I’ve been transported back to high school.
I don’t want this to end. For the first time in a long time, I feel grounded.
The urge to spread the concoction across the ridge of her collarbone and onto her breasts is strong, but she puts an end to the facial. “You’re really good at this,” she says, placing her hand on mine, “but I should get back to work.”
Before I can assure her I’m much better at other things, she swings her legs to the side of the chair and stands to grab a towel to wipe her face.