to say a touch more human, but I think I need a new analogy.”
I laughed, settling myself onto the lip of the tub. “As long as you’re feeling more like yourself, you can call it whatever you want,” I assured her.
She bit her lip again, and I wanted to smile at the nervous tic. “Would you really wash my hair?”
“Would you want me to?” I wasn’t as aggressive as her other suitors. I would never be dominant in the bedroom—at least, I didn’t think so. We hadn’t really gotten to that conversation yet, but I didn’t have the experience I believed Pixie assumed I did.
“I like it when you play with my hair. I just don’t know if it’s…”
“Normal?” I finished for her with a small smile. “I think we’re making up our own normal as we go.” I took a deep breath, unsure if this would make things easier between us, or harder. “Angel, I’m not sure what normal is either. I like taking care of you. It’s just part of who I am. It makes me happy. Plus, your hair is pretty.”
Pixie began to giggle madly, and I couldn’t help but join in. “I got a look at it in the mirror when I brushed my teeth,” she sputtered between fits. “It looks like I got in a fight with an electric fence. And lost.” She wasn’t really wrong, but I wasn’t going to point that out. As her giggling calmed, she pushed her hands through the water, making small waves as she chewed on her lip. I didn’t hurry her, letting her think things over. “Do many women wash each other’s hair? I mean, in movies and stuff, I’ve seen men do it for women sometimes in the shower.”
I knew my own cheeks were heating now as I adjusted my glasses. “Pixie, I’m not sure what most women do.”
“Right, sorry, I meant most wolves,” she corrected, hurrying to fix what she saw as a faux pas.
I laughed, though it was a little strained. “I don’t know that either.” Wide blue eyes met mine, and I shrugged. “I told you I’m gay, Pixie, but the truth is, I have as much experience with women as you do.”
“But, how?”
“There aren’t any other females who are interested in me in the pack,” I explained.
“Impossible.” Her words were a vehement denial, her expression fierce as she suddenly sat up, sloshing water wildly as she grasped my hands. “You’re gorgeous, Shannon. You’re sweet, caring, and intelligent. Why in the world have none of them dated you?”
“There are only a few of us in the pack who are out as gay. There may be more, of course, but a few are in committed relationships. Others are several years my junior or older than my mother. There was never anything between us. While a few students have transferred in from other packs, none have shown an interest in me.” I shrugged, not wanting to reveal that a part of that was also due to my rank in the pack.
“So you’ve never…” She trailed off, but the intention was clear, and I shook my head.
“No. Never.” I caught her eyes with mine, searching for an answer in them. “Does that change things? I mean, it’s okay if it does.”
Pixie leaned in, laying a soft kiss on my lips before pulling away. “Help me with my hair?” she requested. “You’re so much better at it than me.”
“Of course.” The water had already begun to cool, so I didn’t take the time I wanted to, focusing on my task rather than the expanse of creamy skin she had on display, the silky strands under my fingertips, and the long, lean plain of her back that the dissolving bubbles exposed as I worked. In only a few minutes, I turned the tap back on, running clear water to rinse the shampoo from her hair. I angled her head carefully as I massaged her scalp, making sure to work her hair cautiously. She let out a groan of approval at the massage, and I smiled before turning off the flow. I tugged a fluffy towel from the warmer and held it open for her. She stepped out gingerly, her eyes not leaving mine, and let me wrap her up tightly. “Here.” I grabbed another and began work on her hair, drying the prismatic strands carefully. When I was satisfied, I scooped her up, carried her easily into the bedroom, and settled her onto the bed. “You need to rest,