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She slathered almost half the bottle of her Burt’s Bees Pomegranate shampoo on his head. Too bad it wasn’t something like Head and Shoulders that would burn like being stood up on prom night when it ran into his eyes.
His nose turned up a peculiar way as the first strains of the fruity scent filled his nostrils. Grace hoped he hated it. She was mad at him for being so grumpy, especially when she had to get rid of him while she still wanted him. She wasn’t used to that.
Grace had always been the one to send them packing. That was still the case here, only she didn’t want him to go. She’d never had to face that before. With Michael, she’d been quite finished with him when he’d given her the boot.
This was his fault. Why did he have to be so damned hot? Worse, why did his hair have to feel like silk when she was running her fingers through it? Even loaded up like a blue plate special with her banishing cream.
Grace allowed herself to enjoy the sensation just a tiny bit as she raked her fingers through his hair, massaged his scalp and made him smell like a girl with her yummy pomegranate shampoo.
She moved him to stand beneath the cascading warmth of the water and rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. It was such an intimate act, washing someone’s hair. Not to mention that she ogled him at her leisure which was completely counterproductive.
The water sluiced down his tanned skin and his black lashes swept the curve of his cheek. A rivulet of water ran down the hard, defined line of his jaw, down the corded muscles of his neck, down further on his goddess sculpted pectorals…
Goddess sculpted because no man would be able design a creature so perfect and pleasing to the feminine eye. He’d been designed by a woman, for a woman, built for pleasure. Everything about him screamed “sex” in her ears like an alarm clock she couldn’t shut off.
Grace had lost track of that rivulet of water in her contemplation of his deliciousness, but soon found another to keep her attention. This one was gliding down his abs, and further still…
She was lucky that she could multi-task because she was still rinsing his hair and that cherubim-molded mouth was open in blatant pleasure as he enjoyed her ministrations.
Grace saw something then that he would enjoy as much as a visit to a drunken Proctologist. The dark color of his hair was washing away with Burt and his bees. Some witch she was. She tried to banish a demon and she banished his hair color. Pathetic.
Perhaps this would be the catalyst for getting rid of him. He’d been so fussy about his hair just having goo in it. When he found out that it was blond, he was going to have a stroke. If that were the case, then she might as well enjoy a last one off. She was secretly thankful that she wouldn’t have to try and see how to have bad sex. That research would have been the jewel in the Hurts Me More Than You Crown, of that she was certain.
How To Lose A Demon in 10 Days
She slathered almost half the bottle of her Burt’s Bees Pomegranate shampoo on his head. Too bad it wasn’t something like Head and Shoulders that would burn like being stood up on prom night when it ran into his eyes.
His nose turned up a peculiar way as the first strains of the fruity scent filled his nostrils. Grace hoped he hated it. She was mad at him for being so grumpy, especially when she had to get rid of him while she still wanted him. She wasn’t used to that.
Grace had always been the one to send them packing. That was still the case here, only she didn’t want him to go. She’d never had to face that before. With Michael, she’d been quite finished with him when he’d given her the boot.
This was his fault. Why did he have to be so damned hot? Worse, why did his hair have to feel like silk when she was running her fingers through it? Even loaded up like a blue plate special with her banishing cream.
Grace allowed herself to enjoy the sensation just a tiny bit as she raked her fingers through his hair, massaged his scalp and made him smell like a girl with her yummy pomegranate shampoo.
She moved him to stand beneath the cascading warmth of the water and rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. It was such an intimate act, washing someone’s hair. Not to mention that she ogled him at her leisure which was completely counterproductive.
The water sluiced down his tanned skin and his black lashes swept the curve of his cheek. A rivulet of water ran down the hard, defined line of his jaw, down the corded muscles of his neck, down further on his goddess sculpted pectorals…
Goddess sculpted because no man would be able design a creature so perfect and pleasing to the feminine eye. He’d been designed by a woman, for a woman, built for pleasure. Everything about him screamed “sex” in her ears like an alarm clock she couldn’t shut off.
Grace had lost track of that rivulet of water in her contemplation of his deliciousness, but soon found another to keep her attention. This one was gliding down his abs, and further still…
She was lucky that she could multi-task because she was still rinsing his hair and that cherubim-molded mouth was open in blatant pleasure as he enjoyed her ministrations.
Grace saw something then that he would enjoy as much as a visit to a drunken Proctologist. The dark color of his hair was washing away with Burt and his bees. Some witch she was. She tried to banish a demon and she banished his hair color. Pathetic.
Perhaps this would be the catalyst for getting rid of him. He’d been so fussy about his hair just having goo in it. When he found out that it was blond, he was going to have a stroke. If that were the case, then she might as well enjoy a last one off. She was secretly thankful that she wouldn’t have to try and see how to have bad sex. That research would have been the jewel in the Hurts Me More Than You Crown, of that she was certain.
How To Lose A Demon in 10 Days