Page 66 of Trusting the Fall
I offer my friend a wobbly smile before pulling her into my arms, grateful for all the ways she steps up to be there for me.
“Besides,” she says, “I’m certain you’re only feeling this way because you’re not used to being in such close quarters with your special friends.”
I pull back and tilt my head at her words. “What do you mean?”
“Normally, you’re all boss lady,” she chuckles before resting a fist on her hip and pointing a stern finger. Lowering her voice, she says, “Be here at nine p.m. on the dot. I’ll have my way with you, and then you can leave me with a smile on my face by ten p.m. and not a moment later.” She laughs again, reverting to her playful demeanour. “You know? You set the rules and guidelines. Not knowing who Leif really was and constantly seeing him at the salon and having to interact outside the bedroom has thrown you off your power balance.”
My eyes light up at the realisation. “You’re right.” I smile. “The power balance is all off.”
“Okay.” Lex draws out the word, looking more concerned and confused than she was moments ago. She slowly stands from the couch, picking up her clutch from the side table as she heads towards the door with a frown. “Be good. I’ll see you later.”
I nod my head absently as I pick my phone up from the coffee table with feral glee.
ME: I have a problem.
THE ONLY VIKING YOU NEED: Hey, what’s wrong?
My heart flutters with how quickly he responds. No, wait! Fuck that. Restore the balance, Claire!
ME: There’s been a blatant lack of respect in power here and it needs to be rectified.
Three dots start and stop on the screen while I bite at my nails.
I stand up and start pacing, still waiting for his reply.
The beep rings through, and I almost drop my phone, startled by the loud sound while I fumble to bring the screen back to my eyes.
THE ONLY VIKING YOU NEED: I’m not sure what’s happened, but I’m certain I can help.
ME: Come to my house. Now.
29
I’mstillnotsurehow far away Leif lives from me, so I rush through the quickest shower of my life.
I shave my legs, underarms and downstairs. I brush my teeth, fluff up my hair and douse myself in perfume before picking the sluttiest piece of underwear I own. A sexy black bra that pushes the girls up to an impressive degree, sheer black lace cups with a strategically placed rose covering my nipples and a diamante chain that scoops along the underwire. And the cherry on top: black lace crotchless panties. Time to take back my power, I think, smirking at my reflection.
I pull on the black robe that rests over my beauty chair and tie it around my waist right when there’s a knock at the door.
Slowly, I strut to the front door, scowling at the dent that mysteriously showed up a few weeks ago on the wall beside it.
I throw my shoulders back and take a deep, fortifying breath before I open it to a concerned-looking Leif. My resistance falters slightly at the backwards cap, goddammit, and the sweet look of worry on his face.
Power balance. Power balance. Power balance.
“Is everything okay?” he asks, peering into the house behind me.
“It will be. Please come in.” I step aside, opening the door further so he can come inside.
“How can I help?”
I close the door slowly, then turn around like a jaguar sighting its prey. I’m pretty sure his brain is caught between arousal and apprehension, as it should be.
I circle him, looking him up and down, appreciating just how good-looking he is, standing there in his navy-blue hat, a white T-shirt that hugs his tanned biceps, black ripped jeans coating his lean yet muscular thighs. He’s got black Vans on his feet, and the entire ensemble just makes him so soft and cute, like he was when I saw him with his family the other day.
Not like the confident man he was on the first night we met, or the cocky contractor I’ve crossed in my salon. This is the version that not everyone sees, but I do.
His relaxed and unguarded version. But that’s the trouble when you let your guard down. You get eaten. And mama’s hungry.
