Reluctantly Yours(65)

Chloe walks through the door of my office, her hair piled high on her head, a bright blue skirt that sways around her legs when she walks and a delicate blouse pulled snug against her breasts. A breakfast meeting had me out the door early, and I find myself annoyed that this is the first time I’m seeing her today.

Carl stands.

“Chloe, nice to see you,” he says.

“Carl.” She nods and I immediately pick up on her curt tone.

Carl shoots me a look.

“We’ll finish this discussion later,” I tell him.

He nods and gathers his things. In typical Carl fashion, he mouths something behind her back as he leaves. I think it was ‘you’re fucked.’ He thinks things between Chloe and me are still tense because I haven’t told him otherwise.

“Hi,” I say, moving toward Chloe. I’m aware that she’s usually the one making an effort while I hold back, but I want to change that. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“I just came from Frankie’s.” She sniffs like she’s about to cry.

My gaze drops to her hands, where they’re covered in black leather.

“Are you wearing gloves? In July? I thought you were getting your nails done?”

“Yes, I did. It was awful. My nails are awful. I came here because I don’t know what to do,” she cries.

I don’t like seeing Chloe upset, but my chest swells with pleasure that she’s seeking me out.

“They can’t be that bad.” I hold one arm and pull off the glove. Oh shit.

Words escape me as I take in Chloe’s manicure. Having seen Frankie’s nails, I knew how she liked to wear hers, but I had no idea that she would pick out something similar for Chloe. The nails are at least three inches long and Chloe’s hands are petite so the three inches of nail off the end just looks wrong. Not only is the length too much, but the nail shape is round at the nail bed, then sharpens to a point, making it look like a set of cat claws. The color is a neon yellow and there are some black spots which I think are supposed to be some kind of animal pattern.

“They’re not that bad.” My attempt at reassuring Chloe does not go well.

“Not that bad? Not that bad?!” Chloe yanks off the other glove and lifts both hands in front of my face. Ten claw-like highlighter yellow nails coming at me is enough to make my balls draw up. I instinctively step back.

“I can’t open a soda, Barrett.” She pulls out a can of seltzer water out of her purse and tosses it at me. I catch it with one hand.

“I’ll help you open it.” I pop it open easily. I think that only makes her madder.

“I could hardly button my skirt when I went to the bathroom.”

“I can help with that, too,” I offer. It’d be my pleasure.

She pins me with a glare.

“I can’t have you following me into bathrooms. And that’s not the point. Frankie wants me to keep them on until Friday. She’s got a photoshoot for her nail line and she loooves how cute my little hands are,” Chloe makes air quote marks around little and I nearly lose an eye, “so she told me to keep them on so she can put me in her sales book.”

I don’t know what to say but it doesn’t matter because Chloe keeps going.

“I was trying to read in the car and I ripped the page. I already scratched my leg, who knows what condition I’ll be in by Friday? It’s like Edward Scissorhands over here.” She clinks the nails together. It does make an eerie sound. “How am I going to do anything?” She sighs, her voice going quiet. “Like how am I going to touch myself? I’ll shred my labia trying to rub my clit.” She drops her head into her hands and cries, defeated.

My dick jumps at the thought of Chloe touching herself, but I force those thoughts to take a backseat to what is obviously a traumatic experience for her.

Cautiously, I step forward and gather her in my arms.

“I’d never let that happen,” I say, rubbing a hand over her back.

She presses her nose into my chest.

“We’ll figure it out,” I tell her.

“We?” She sniffles.

“Do you want to put that on your list?” Please put it on your list, my dick chimes in.

“You giving me orgasms because I’m Edward Scissorhands and I can’t do it myself?”

“Sure.” Any excuse for Chloe to let me touch her would suffice. “Orgasms? Now you’re getting ahead of yourself,” I tease.

Chloe snort laughs into my dress shirt and when she pulls away it’s covered in tears and probably snot. I don’t even care. Having this moment of levity with her, even if it’s because she got the world’s most bizarre manicure, is nice. She lifts her hands to wipe the tears from under her eyes but she can’t get them without poking herself in the eye.

“I can’t even…” Chloe’s words trail off when I press my thumbs under her eyes and wipe the wetness away. She blinks, her wet lashes tickling my thumbs.

“Thank you,” she says.

“You bet,” I say, my hands still cupping her cheeks.

She takes in a shuddering breath and lifts her gaze to mine. We stand there for what feels like forever, neither of us wanting to move from the moment. We’re so close, it feels like there’s nothing left to do but lower my head one more inch and claim her mouth.