She, the Kingdom (She #1)(15)

“Yes.”

He smiled like I’d done him a mundane favor that he sincerely appreciated, and then cupped my shoulders. He pecked my cheek, and then left me standing alone. The front door opened and closed, and I heard his car back out of the drive.

I reached for my chair and fell into it, shaking my head. I couldn’t have imagined any of this a week ago, but I’d just gone from broke and desperate to thirteen-thousand dollars and a new car richer. The most unbelievable part was—when I’d played with saying yes before, it was the money I’d fantasized about, and I’d avoided thinking about the actual act. Now, contractually bound and hours from being naked in front of the man who’d just fired me—I was looking forward to it.





Chapter Five

“Oh… we’ve got some work to do,” Athena said as I squirmed on the table in the waxing room. The lighting was dim, and the music playing through the speakers would have been calming had I not known the suffering I was about to undergo. I’d rather songs like “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC be blaring to help me with my game face.

She was wearing all black, like every other employee of the SKIN boutique. I was more nervous about the new company credit card I would use, and the inevitable whispering that followed, than the pain from the Brazilian wax that was about to happen. Max had suggested the salon because Sophie was a client there. I worried that if they knew he was paying for my services for a pedicure and grooming of my nether regions, he was probably also paying for my services elsewhere.

“It’s been a while,” I said, embarrassed. In truth, I’d never been waxed—anywhere. I had seen the horrors detailed online and in late night comedies, but had never experienced it myself. I’d kept up my bikini line and leg stubble for the first half of my marriage to Nick, but when he’d stopped noticing, I’d stopped going to the trouble. Just an hour after spending a short but awkward twenty minutes with my doctor as he’d read over and signed off on the most personal questionnaire I’d ever answered, I was now flat on my back, naked from the waist down.

“You are going to feel like a supermodel by the time you leave,” she said, moving the towel to one side. She slathered on the warm, melted goo, and I felt a false sense of comfort for a moment. She ripped off the strip, and I tensed, excruciating pain radiating from the now raw patch of skin. “Beautiful!” she said.

“Do I still have skin?” I asked, my voice sounding strangled.

Athena smiled, her black eyebrows lifting. “Yes, and it’s smooth as a baby’s butt.” She slathered on more wax, and then ripped another strip, pressing down again. Every inch of my newly bare skin felt like the nerves were exposed and screaming.

“Please tell me we’re finished,” I choked out. My body was shaking like it had been traumatized. The practice was nothing less than medieval torture, and I couldn’t fathom why it was still being practiced.

“Getting there,” she said.

I groaned, covering my eyes as she alternated between warm, soft touches, and tear-inducing pain. As time passed, it didn’t get easier. I nearly gave up at one point, promising my skin I would leave after the next rip.

“Okay,” she said with a smile. “Last one.”

“Oh, thank God.” She pulled, and then she moved the towel to the opposite side. I raised my head to survey the damage. “I thought you said that was the last one!”

Athena breathed out a laugh. “On that side. You asked for a Brazilian. I’m assuming you don’t want a strip or a V?”

I leaned back with a whimper. “What’s a V? Never mind. No, thank you. It has to be bare.”

She ripped another strip. “You got it, love.”

The more she yanked, the angrier I became at Maxwell Kingston and his stupid contract. I was going to have to do this every few weeks? Was he crazy? I was sure if I asserted that he did the same, he wouldn’t be so insistent.

She slathered then jerked, over and over, even over the line where the pink of my inner lips met the peach of my skin. Or, what was once peach. Now, it was a throbbing, raw, bright red slab of meat. I gripped the side edges of the table. “What are you doing?”

“Last ones here,” she said, fanning the wax so it would more quickly cool.

With one hand she pulled my skin taut, but when she yanked, it was surprisingly not as excruciating at the upper patches.

“Knees to chest.”

“What? Why?”

She winked at me. “It’s all got to go.”

“Oh, Christ,” I said, lifting my knees.

“Higher,” she said, pushing my knees to my chest.

“I’m going to die.”

“This isn’t as bad as the rest, and it feels so clean!” Athena said as she slathered hot wax far too close to my anus. I nearly came off the table.

“Hot! Oh my f*ck!”

“Sorry! Let me try to cool it off,” she said, fanning. We waited a full minute before she spread wax on the other side, and I arched my back. “Fuuuuuck me! No, not you!” I clarified, holding up my hand as I recognized my vulnerable position.

Athena chuckled as she ripped the last strips away. “Finished.”

“Oh, thank Christ,” I said, my every muscle relaxing against the table.

“The first time is the hardest. If you come regularly, it gets easier,” she said, covering me with the towel.