Sex, Lies, and Beauty Aides

by Deb Julienne

  She started at the top, and tried to pull it off at the hairline. It was stuck on tight. When that didn’t work, she applied a hot washcloth hoping to wipe it off that way. It was solid. Thumping a finger at her cheek, it sounded like a hollow log, which made her pull harder causing significant pain and panic.

  She raced to her coffee table and speed dialed Kat’s cell. The phone rang twice before she answered.

  “Kat speaking.”

  “It’s Sabrina.”

  “What’s wrong with you? Your voice sounds funny.”

  “Is there any chance you can escape for an hour or so?”

  “No way. I’m at a day spa, covered in mud.”

  “Okay, I guess I’ll try Jill.”

  “Don’t you remember? She left first thing this morning for Denver taking her mom to the doctor.”

  “Crap. That’s right. I’ll figure something out.”

  “Sorry. And as soon as I leave here, I have an appointment with a counselor at the University.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s nothing I can’t handle myself.” She hoped.

  “If you change your mind, call me back and leave me voicemail. Good luck.”

  Great, now what? She hated the thought of Travis seeing her like this, but it was better than a trip to the emergency room. With shaky hands, she dialed the phone.

  * * * *

  Trent was in his office finalizing the last of the layoff paperwork before it needed to be turned over to HR. He still felt guilty over the loss of personnel, but promised each person when things turned around he’d call them back.

  He’d placed his signature on the last document when his cell phone rang. Thank goodness he recognized the phone number. He’d almost answered the phone as Trent.

  In his best Travis voice he said, “Hey pretty lady, what can I do for you?”

  “Do you have any plans this morning?”

  “Nothing specific. Why, what’s up?” He checked his watch. “Are you playing hooky today?”

  “No, not exactly. Is there any chance you can come over? I’m kind of in a jam and I definitely need your help.” Her voice sounded strained.

  “Sure, when do you need me?”

  “Now. Ah, the sooner the better. Please hurry.”

  “Uh-oh, what’s wrong?” He smiled unable to hide an undertone of amusement in his voice. What happened this time? Images of past failed experiments she’d shared with him raced through his mind. He felt a twinge of sympathy even as he wondered what part of her was swollen now. Much to his chagrin, his pants were suddenly a size too small.

  “Let’s say another one of my experiments didn’t turn out as I planned. Oh, and Travis, when you get here if you laugh, I swear I’ll slug you.”

  “You have my complete attention. What happened?” He smiled at the memory lingering in his mind of her swollen lips from the week before.

  “Just get here fast. I’ll tell you then. I’ll leave the front door unlocked, just walk in.”

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he promised.

  “Make it ten,” she begged.

  “I’ll hurry.” He hung up with a chuckle, anxious to get going. Trent’s imagination began to run amok.

  He instructed his assistant he’d be out of the office for the next few hours then grabbed his overcoat, shrugged into it and headed out.

  He parked his car on the street in front of her building, pounded up the stairs and let himself in the apartment.

  “Sabrina. It’s Travis. Where are you?”

  “I’m in the bathroom. I’ll be right out.”

  Trent ambled around her apartment to get a feel for the woman he was so enamored with. On the kitchen counter, he spied a bowl. Curious to see what she prepared, he picked it up to smell the concoction. Nothing. He peered at the contents and concluded she must have been planning lunch for them. The temptation was too strong. He swiped a bit on the tip of his index finger and tasted. “Good God, wallpaper paste.” He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his mouth and finger.

  Sabrina called from another room. “I’m coming out. Remember what I said, if you laugh you’re in trouble.”

  No matter what Trent expected, nothing came close to reality.

  Sabrina appeared in front of him with the same yucky green goop from the bowl covering her face. “Travis? Say something.”

  “I’m afraid to.” He stepped back and let his eyes roam up her body before it settled on her face. He bit his lip and almost drew blood in an effort not to smile or laugh then swallowed and asked as innocently as possible, “What happened?”

  “Nothing really, just practicing to be a leprechaun for St. Patrick’s Day. Seriously? I need your help to get this blasted thing off.” She stomped her foot and shook her fists.

  “First, tell me what it is.”

  Sabrina’s shoulders drooped. “It’s supposed to be a facial mask. Only I can’t get it off.”

  “H—how did this happen?”

  “Well, I was short of a few ingredients the recipe called for so I made two substitutions.”

  The cramp in his stomach grew as he tried to hold in his amusement. When she put her hands on her hips he was in big trouble.

  “Travis, wipe that grin off your face”

  He coughed. “Yes ma’am. So, what can I do?”

  I’ve tried everything I can think of and nothing has worked. If you can’t come up with a solution, I’ll have to go to the emergency room and I really don’t want to do that.”

  “Let’s start with the recipe, where is it? I’ll try to remember my basic chemistry and see if I can figure out what went wrong.” Trent scanned the three-by-five card of the ingredients, nothing wrong. “Okay, what substitutions did you make?”

  Sabrina pointed to the bowl of gak. “I ran out of oatmeal so I used oat flour. And the second exchange I made was to swap the vitamin E oil for avocado.”

  No wonder it tasted horrible. Trent struggled to regain his composure but it didn’t work. Laughter echoed through the entire apartment. “Sabrina, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but what you created is the equivalent to paper-mâché. By any chance did you use any petroleum jelly on your face before you put that glop on?”

  “Of course not. I don’t want my face to break out. Remember? This is supposed to be a beauty mask, not a zit magnet,” She said, looking at him pointedly. Moisture welled in her eyes. She blinked causing a single tear to cascaded down the mask.

  She’d trusted him to come to her rescue and here he stood laughing at her, as if she was nothing but a big joke. She’d depended on him to keep her secrets, along with her fears, and most of all not to let her down. Shame ate at him. The hurt in her eyes tore at his heart.

  Her tear moistened the mask and her lower eyelashes caught in the goop, making it impossible for her to blink. She turned away.

  He grabbed her by the shoulders and solemnly asked, “What do you want me to do?”

  Finally, she made eye contact with him. “Help me get this off. Please.”

  “What have you tried so far?” he asked, trying his damnedest to be serious.

  “I’ve tried to peel it off. It’s stuck tight. I applied a hot wash rag, but it made the surface sticky.” She showed her fingers etched with traces of dried green glop. “And before you say why didn’t you just soak the hell out of it and scrape it off, we’re talking about me here, my luck. I was afraid I’d get it in my eyes and my eyes would be sealed shut. Can’t you just see me stumbling around the apartment, trying to find the phone to dial 911? Oh yeah, there’s an exciting situation I’m anxious to experience,” she said, eyes closed, arms out fumbling like a blind person. When she bumped into the coffee table she cursed. “See what I mean?” She let out a stilted laugh.

  He strained to keep from laughing at the image she painted, he had to force himself to stop and to think logically. “Do you have rubbing alcohol, peroxide, nail polish remover or mineral oil? Q-tips, we’ll need them too.”

  Sabrina left
the room and returned seconds later, her arms laden with everything he’d asked for. As much as he wanted to laugh at the image before him, he didn’t. Even with her cartoon nightgown, hair in a ponytail, and the mess on her face he was attracted.

  “Now what?” Her eyes begged him to fix things, her tone held hope.

  The fact she relied on him for help ate at his sympathies. No way he’d let her down. Trent scanned her apartment before deciding the best place to do this was in the bedroom.

  “Come on.” He tugged her to her room. He placed each item carefully on the nightstand. “You lie down across the bed and hang your head over the edge. I’ll sit beside you and we’ll see if I can work it off a little at a time.”

  “So this is what it takes to get a man to take me to bed. Go figure,” she said with a snicker.

  “The lengths you’ll go through for a man,” he said, and while she positioned herself on the bed, he took in her boudoir. The walls were painted a delicate shade of ivory, with lots of girlie pink accents. Bed big enough for two covered in lacy pillows. Riotously feminine yet classically decorated. Once she settled in place her nightshirt rode dangerously high up her shapely thighs.

  Sabrina immediately acted on his request. She never once questioned him but seemed to place every ounce of trust in him. Talk about intimidation. If he’d been in her situation, he’d feel like a prize fool. And yet, she’d called him. Well, not exactly him, but Travis. And that irked the hell out of him. Malfeasance washed over him like an avalanche roaring down the side of a mountain and he was rooted in its path.

  “Where the heck did you get this idea anyway?” He reached for the oil and a Q-tip and debated on the best place to start. The strawberry fragrance of her shampoo mixed with the floral smell of her perfume filled his senses, it next to impossible to concentrate.

  “On the internet. And before you say it, I know, I should have thought it through and asked questions. It was either this or a kitty litter mask I’d found. Frankly, nothing is going to compel me to put kitty litter on my face, out of the question.” Even in the midst of a chaos her mind was working nonstop. She danced in place, unable to keep still like some sort of crazy mental dance.

  Curtail his chuckle? Not hardly. No doubt his laughter did nothing to make her feel a damn bit better about her choice. Even the with her face covered in glop, there was something absolutely remarkable about her. He felt protective of her. Wanted to help her.

  Now he understood. How the guys she’d dated suddenly called off their plans. He felt the same damn way. That’s it. Time to end the charade before it was too late.

  “Travis, this position is giving me a headache. Can I rest my head on the bed?”

  “Sure, go for it.”

  She didn’t waste a moment, scooting down until her head was flat on the bed. Her night shirt rode even higher

  If his trousers got any tighter he’d need to go to the ER himself.

  With his decision made, his plans shelved for the time, he struggled to concentrate on her current crisis. He shifted into a more comfortable position then dipped a Q-tip in the mineral oil and worked it under her bottom lashes first to release them. Once freed, he started to work around the edges of her face. When that didn’t work he tried the peroxide next, hoping the bubbles would do the trick and release the mask from her skin and maybe wipe some of the excess mess away.

  “Any chance you have any alcohol?”

  “I already gave it to you.” She tipped her head back and turned dazzling green eyes on him.

  “No, I mean drinking alcohol.” His stomach flipped. He was mesmerized by the gold flecks in them.

  “I’m sure Kat and Jill have something, but not sure what. I’m not much of a drinker, maybe some Peppermint Schnapps or Tequila Rose. No telling what’s in there. Why?” She fiddled with the edge of her nightshirt, the lacy edge of her red underwear peeked out.

  He swallowed and almost choked. “You’re too tense. We need to loosen you up a bit. It might help me remove this mask easier.” Or at least make her sit still. He didn’t dare voice how her undulations on the bed drove him wild.

  “Isn’t it a bit early in the day to drink?” she mumbled.

  “Normally, I’d say yes, but under the circumstances I think we can make an exception.”

  “I will not drink alone so you best plan to join me.” She shook a finger in his direction.

  “I don’t usually drink this early, but what the hell. Where do you keep the booze?” What was he getting himself into? He was hot as hell imagining her thighs wrapped around him, the imagery drove him nuts. The nagging panic that filled him with desire turned him into an addlepated fool.

  “Check in the cupboard above the fridge.”

  Twenty minutes later his head was swimming. Judging from Sabrina’s constant laughter, she felt no pain. He didn’t feel any worse for wear either. In fact, they had developed a serious case of the giggles. Had he ever giggled before?

  Not Likely. He wasn’t the type. He blinked and forced his focus back to the mask removal.

  “Come on Sabrina, lay down and let’s get this thing off.”

  “Go ahead, have your way with me.” Relaxed and pliant, she laughed softly, hiccupped, and flopped back down on the bed.

  He let out a breath of air. Holy Jesus man, she didn’t mean that way. He sat on the bed and placed her head on his lap. Shit, this didn’t help him rein in his libido either. He needed to get the damn thing off and get the hell out of there. Fast.

  “Close your eyes. This might hurt. I want to try to free the hairs of your eyebrows and around your forehead. I don’t want to yank them out. Please lie still.” His voice rose higher than he’d ever heard it before.

  “Tell me a joke or something. Anything to keep my mind off of what you’re doing,” she asked, visibly anxious and unhappy.

  “Clean or dirty? The joke I mean?”

  “I don’t care, just hurry up. I don’t want the booze to wear off too soon.” She straightened her body out stiffly and wiggled her toes.

  “In that case, let’s have another couple of shots and relieve the rest of your tension first.”

  Two shots later the chuckles were back, an octave louder. Sabrina got back in to position as he continued to work, sing-songing his bawdy little ditty.

  “There once was a man from Nantucket,

  who didn’t have much more than a ducat.

  He drank what he could,

  which was more than he should.

  And soon found his head in a bucket.”

  “No fair.” She clutched her stomach. Her laughter gave a bouncing shake to the bed beneath her. “Oh no, I have to pee.” She jumped up, leaped off the bed, and ran to the bathroom.

  Sabrina returned from the bathroom, her smile even bigger. She stepped onto the bed, her balance clumsy, she wobbled then toppled over and fell to her knees like a toddler leaning to walk. She stared at him and suddenly stopped laughing, lowered her gaze then turned away to settle flat on the bed. The expression in her eyes left him sad. He’d miss her. More than he cared to admit.

  He inspected the mask and let out a whoop of satisfaction. “A-ha. The oil is working.”

  He applied more oil against her skin with the swab. Bit-by-bit he worked around the edges. She continued to squirm until the hem of her nightgown was bunched around her belly button. The lacy bikini underwear barely covering her mound flashed him like a neon beacon making it damn near impossible to focus. Twice he almost put the swab in her ear. She wiggled and fidgeted as he tore his gaze away to concentrate on the job.

  “Hold still, I almost have it off.” One last gentle tug later and Sabrina was free of the evil mask.

  “There you go.” He sat back and grinned.

  “You did it,” she squealed.

  He stood and held out the hardened green mask. “What do you want to do with this?”

  “Throw it away, burn it, set it under a steam roller. I don’t care.” She leapt straight in to his arms and wrapped h
er legs around his waist exactly the way he’d imagined earlier and kissed him.

  This is what he wanted.

  The action knocked the mask from of his hand and onto the bed where it bounced and landed on the floor.

  It had started out as a simple thank you kiss, except the second her lips touched his, the soft sweet taste of her lips made him want to take it further, and turn it into much more.

  He’d been dying to give her more than the virtuous little kisses he’d doled out. All the pent up passion he’d held back suddenly ran rampant, as if he’d been down to his last buck and won a jackpot in Vegas. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close against his body.

  Her hardened nipples pressed against his chest. He wanted more. Her mouth opened and his tongue tangled with hers to do its own unique version of the Lambada. He rubbed against her, pressed closer, and lowered her down on the bed.

  God, he wanted her. Was it fair to pretend to be his brother or should he confess now before they went too far?

  Too late.

  She’d already taken his heart hostage and there would be no ransom.

  6

  Sabrina hadn’t ever been kissed like this. Completely senseless. The second her lips touched his, she turned into a wanton she-cat. Hells bells, she didn’t even know she had it in her. Her heart pummeled her ribs in double-overtime. This is what she’d waited her entire life for. A man to make her feel special. Why did it have to happen now when she looked like crap? Should she allow him to go any further? Isn’t that what she wanted? He was her boss and everyone knew you don’t dip your nib in the company inkpot. She really liked him. Why not take a chance?

  She doubted it meant more to him than another conquest. Travis never said he felt anything for her. In fact, he was the one to ask her to be a friend. No way did that equal relationship. Not in her book.

  No.

  She didn’t want to have sex with someone who viewed her as a pal. How depraved and cheap. It took every ounce of strength to stop the kiss and push him away. She had to.

  “I’m sorry, Travis.” Her chest ached. As if pushing him away shattered her soul. “I love the feel of your lips on mine only I don’t see how this can go any further.” It hurt to swallow. She stifled a sob. “Y—you’re my boss and we both know it can’t work.”