Porterhouse (Grade-A Beefcakes 4)

I hadn’t really taken a peek at my pussy with a mirror before. Did it really look like that? All pink and… stuff? And now, god. I was an idiot! Not only did I have bits and pieces a guy might need a miner’s lamp to explore, I had a bald patch that was red and enflamed and it hurt like hell.

Bald. Trimmed red hair everywhere except for a two-inch section

on the left side.

How could I have sex like that? In the dark? More phone sex?

I moaned. Bennett and Cash were going to spend the day with me, they’d said. While I doubted they’d jump me coming to my door, after what we’d done the night before, they’d probably want to do something similar in person at some point. Probably when I’d come and screamed their names they’d gotten the green light for that. I’d wanted to until about two minutes ago.

Now? What was I going to do?

I grabbed my phone, speed dialed Ava.

“I’m in trouble,” I said when she answered. I went into my kitchen, opened my freezer, pulled out a bag of frozen corn. “Not dying kind of trouble. I mean, I’m fine, except for a certain spot, but it won’t kill me. It hurts like hell, but I’ll live. Although if Bennett and Cash find out, I will probably die of embarrassment. I’ve got girl trouble.”

“Okkkkaaayyy. What’s the matter?” she asked after I finished clarifying.

I walked into my bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed, lifted my left leg so it was up on the mattress. I shifted a little so I could get the bag of corn beneath my crotch and hissed when the cold hit my tender skin. All of my skin. “Do you wax?”

“What? Julia, you’re making no sense.”

“Do you wax, you know, down there?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I don’t. Until now. I mean, don’t think I was a jungle woman or anything, I just liked shaving better.” I winced and shifted my hips. “Trimming. I’d wanted to try it once, but didn’t get up the nerve.”

“But now you did?”

“Yes.”

“Is it because of two cute not-strippers wanting in your pants?”

I groaned, squirmed some more because the bag of corn was freezing.

“Any chance of those two cute not-strippers getting in my pants is gone now,” I grumbled.

“If you’re sore, just put some baby oil on it. It’ll soothe the sting.”

“Baby oil. Not frozen corn?”

“Frozen corn? Julia, what the—”

“I did it myself.”

“What?” she practically screeched. “Are you a masochist?”

“No, and that’s the problem.” I took a deep breath, let it out. I shivered and threw the bag of corn across the bed, climbed beneath the covers and tossed them over my head. The room went mostly dark around me. “Ava, I’ve got a bald patch and there’s no way I can do any more.”

She was quiet for a minute. “Then shave it all off.”

“I can’t. Having it come back in is miserable. I probably looked like I had crabs or something, scratching myself all the time.”

“Mmm, yeah, I can relate to that. So which is worse, a bald patch or hair coming back in?”

I couldn’t decide. “Either way, they’re going to see me either looking like a plucked chicken or think I have mange. Down there.”

Ava laughed. And laughed.