Page 48 of Under His Control

“Why would there be?”

She rubs her eyes. “Why are you sitting there?”

“I was watching you sleep.”

She blinks and makes a face.

“That’s kind of creepy, Jacob.”

“This is my home. I can look at whatever I like, whenever I like.”

My gaze slides to her exposed leg again and she quickly covers herself with the sheet. Faint pink colours her cheeks, suspicion in her eyes. She’s probably wondering if I did more than look.

She’s right to wonder. I still have a firm grip on restraint, but it’s slipping the longer I’m alone with her.

“I need a shave and I want you to do it.”

“Where? Your face?”

I smile. “Where else? Do you want to shave other parts of me, darling?”

She purses her lips. “I can shave off all the hair on your head if you like, dear.”

A chuckle escapes me. She snatches up her leggings from the basket beside the couch and gives me a pointed look.

When I refuse to move, she awkwardly tugs on her leggings under the sheet, throwing an annoyed look at me. She should know by now I like making her uncomfortable.

Penelope stands and heads down the hall. I wait until she returns before grabbing one of the kitchen chairs and taking it with me to the bathroom.

Unlike Lewis, my shaving routine is pretty basic. I put my kit on the counter, wet my face, and fill a cup with enough water to rinse the razor.

I take a seat when I’m done. Penelope draws closer, the can of shaving cream in her hand.

“You should be worried.”

“Why?”

“I’m thinking about giving you either a really skinny chinstrap or mutton chops.” A tiny smile plays on her lips. “Wait, I have a better idea. I’ll shave everywhere except for one small patch above your top lip.”

“If you give me that moustache, you better sleep with one eye open, sweetheart. I have permanent markers and a strong sense of justice.”

She lets out a soft laugh and I’m surprised how much I enjoy it. A part of me craves hearing it again. I back away from that feeling like it’s uncontrolled fire. I’m setting myself up for big trouble if I entertain that kind of thought. The only thing I should crave from Penelope is penance.

She squeezes out a thick, white glob of shaving cream into her palm then sets the can down on the counter. An unsure expression crosses her face.

“I’ve never shaved a man before.”

I like hearing that as much as I liked her laughter. Maybe even more.

“It’ll be fine. Just move the blade downward on my jaw.”

“I hope I don’t cut you.”

“Don’t cut me.”

“Thanks. That’s so helpful.”

She steps closer then smears the foam against my face. Her delicate fingers caress my jaw, sweep under my chin, and slide down my neck.