Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Their hands are still in the middle of massaging my scalp. “You do?”
“Yes.” It’s the truth. It’s never been truer.
To Rusalka’s credit, they don’t ask me if I’m sure. “How short?”
I start to sit up. “Do you have a knife?”
She grabs my shoulders, keeping me in place. “Let’s make one thing clear, little one. Under no circumstances am I going to hand you a knife and let you hack your own hair off. Tell me how short you would like it, and I’ll cut it for you.”
I twist just enough to see her, to see how serious she is. Another type of care. My heart thumps almost painfully in my chest. “Above my shoulders.”
“After your bath.” They finish washing my hair, their claws once again in evidence and gently massaging my scalp. It almost works to fade the tension of anticipation making me quiver. Rusalka knows. Of course they know.
In no time, they get me out of the bath and dry me with a large fluffy towel, ignoring my insistence that I can dry myself. I wait for shame to take me in response to my being naked in front of another person without even having the decency to wait for the deepest night. But it’s hard to feel bad when Rusalka is so intent.
They pull out a robe from somewhere and dress me in it. Then they urge me into a chair that I hadn’t noticed before. “Inna is quite good with hair, so they’ll have to clean up this cut tomorrow. But I can manage to get the weight off your shoulders. Will that work?”
“Yes.” She could have told me to wait for Inna to do it right. She could have handed me a knife and let me hack it off myself. She could have done a lot of things, but instead she’s carefully sectioning my hair and running her fingers through it.
I don’t understand exactly what she’s doing until she stops, her fingers a few inches over my shoulder. “This length?”
I don’t care about the specifics, but I suspect they don’t want to hear that. “Yes,” I say hoarsely. “That length.”
Rusalka uses their claws to cut my hair in quick, efficient movements. It feels as though it should take longer, but within ten minutes or so, they run their fingers through my hair again. It’s only when they urge me to the mirror near the sink that I realize they were drying my hair and that the heat I felt wasn’t solely from their skin. They come to stand behind me, expression carefully gentle. “What do you think?”
I touch my hair gingerly. It’s got so much more volume like this, bouncing above my shoulders with every movement. It feels like . . . freedom. “I love it.”
“Good.”
I keep staring at myself in the mirror. The length of my hair is the only thing that’s changed, and yet that’s not the truth, is it? Everything has changed. Isn’t it time I embraced that change fully? Before doubt can seep in, I turn and take Rusalka’s hand. They allow me to lead them back into the bedroom and to the bed. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”
She opens her mouth like she might argue but pauses and studies my expression. “Just remember that you can stop this at any moment, regardless of what’s happening.”
“Rusalka.” I wait for them to look at me. “I trust you. I want this. I promise I’ll communicate if anything doesn’t work for me.”
They smile slowly and curl their fingers through mine. “Then I’ll trust you to be honest with me.”
“I will. I promise.” I take another step toward the bed. “Please, Rusalka. I’m relaxed and seduced, and I need you right now.”
Their smile gains the wicked edge I’m quickly learning to crave. “Oh, little one, there will be nothing rushed about this.” They step closer, guiding me back onto the bed, then follow me down. Rusalka is already athletic and taller than me, but with their body pressing mine into the mattress, they feel so much . . . more. I don’t know how to explain it; I only know that it makes me go soft and melty.
They brush my hair back from my face, spreading it out over the pillow, their amber eyes hot enough to truly melt me. “You please me so greatly.”
My heart thumps so hard, it’s a wonder they can’t see it trying to beat itself out of my chest. I lick my lips. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
“You’ve done everything.” She brushes a light kiss to my brow, my cheekbone, my jaw. “You’re so selfless and kind. Curious and brave. Able to have your worldview challenged without it crushing you.” She strokes her hand down to my hip and presses me harder to the mattress. “Smart. Strong. Beautiful.”
I almost tell them that they don’t have to lie to me, but I manage to stop the words before giving them voice. Rusalka’s praise makes me uncomfortable in the way being perceived always has, but that doesn’t mean they’re lying. It doesn’t mean they’re wrong.