SINFULLY YOURS

Chapter 43: Chapter 43. Pooling Around His Feet

Chapter 43. Pooling Around His Feet

"Pervert. You are a bloody pervert." Her voice echoed in the house.

Don flinched continuously at the sound of her voice, jerking his shoulders as he stood by the door.

"Fucking close the door, will you?" she shouted.

He blinked in confusion. "Can you, like, chill?" he said. "It was an honest mistake. Why did you have to shout like that? What was wrong with you? I thought you were in trouble. Did you hurt yourself."

"It was nothing. I was just excited," she shouted.

He shook his head and then rolled his eyes. "What’s the deal?" he said. "Bring your voice down," he said.

Then he scoffed and shook his head. The sound of her voice squeaking out loud, tossing her endless childish rage at him, made him snicker, but he contained himself. He turned towards the other side, about to leave.

"Wait!" she shouted. "Ouch! Ow!" she groaned, like she was in pain.

He froze in confusion. He frowned, blinking, his eyes darting left to right, wondering if it would be a great idea to stop and turn around. But remembering the way she called him a pervert made him freeze. Should I turn? Should I not?

"Oh my God!" she groaned. "Ow, shit, it hurts!" she said.

He flinched and was about to turn, but then he stopped and faced ahead of him immediately, closing his eyes and clenching his teeth. "Okay, seriously, you are confusing me right now. What’s going on?" he asked.

"My hair!" she cried. "Ouch! I can’t... I can’t... I can’t get it out. Oh my God, fuck, it hurts!" she cried out loud.

He raised an eyebrow. "What’s wrong with your hair?"

"It’s... it’s... it’s..." she stammered.

He tilted his head to the side, placing his hand against his waist. "Rosa, take a deep breath and tell me what is wrong with your hair," he said without looking back at her.

"It’s stuck," she said.

"Stuck where?"

"I don’t... I don’t... I don’t know," she mumbled, but he could still hear the wince and the groan that was escaping her lips.

The girl was obviously in pain, but she didn’t want to tell him why she was in pain.

"Where is your hair stuck at?" he asked. "Can I turn around?"

"No!" she shouted instantly. "Don’t you even think about it."

He listened, hearing the trembling in her voice. He used his hand to cover his mouth, almost snickering. He closed his eyes and breathed. Suck it up, Don, he told himself. This is not the time to laugh. He breathed out.

"You need my help to remove your hair from somewhere, right?" he asked.

There was no reply.

"Rosa," he called.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "Yes! Oh my God!" she groaned.

"Then put some clothes on so that I can help you," he said.

"I can’t," she exclaimed. "It’s stuck. I c... I can’t move. I can’t."

He frowned. Confusion flooded his mind. "Where is your hair stuck, Rosa? Just tell me."

"I... i... i... it’s stuck. It... it’s stuck in my bra," she said.

He felt his brain spark as he flinched, both of his eyebrows raising up instantly. "Oh!" he said. "Right. Um..." He scratched his neck, still not understanding why he was suddenly feeling nervous. Then he chuckled. "Are you... are you putting on anything else down?" he asked.

"Oh God!" he heard her groaning. He could tell that the embarrassment was getting to her.

He chuckled and shook his head. "Come on, it’s no big deal, okay?" he said. "It’s not like I’m seeing your nakedness. You obviously need help. Let me just help you."

"No!" she screamed.

He flinched and raised both of his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, all right. Breathe," he said. "Relax, okay? I’m not looking at you."

He then slowly began to walk backwards into the room as gently as he could.

"Oh God," he heard her groaning behind him. "Are you sure you’re going to be able to help me like that?" she asked.

"Um," he said. "I’ll just try my best. It might not be easy though."

He stepped even closer. He began to feel behind him. "Am I close to you?" he asked.

He heard her take a deep breath behind him. "No," she said.

He took another step back.

"A little closer," she said.

He took the third step back.

"Just one more step," she said.

When he did, his hand instantly came in contact with her bare stomach. She flinched and slapped his hand away. He winced and quickly pulled his hand, shaking it, closing his eyes, trying to stop the heaviness that almost made him burst out in amusement.

"All right," he said. "I’m here. I can help you." He stretched his hands behind him. "Why don’t you guide my hand to where your hair is so I can, you know, feel around and just detangle it?"

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Well, I can try," he said.

"Don’t tell me you can try. I need you to get it off. It hurts," she said.

He chuckled. "Well, I can’t give you hope and dash it to the ground, you know that. Working with my hands behind me is definitely not going to be easy. I need my eyes as well, and I certainly do not have one at the back of my head," he said, staring at the ceiling with a smile on his face.

He heard her groan behind him. "Jesus! Oh, fuck!" she cried. "God, it hurts so much!"

He chuckled. "Relax, okay," he said. "I can’t work with my hands behind me, let me just help you."

He quickly turned around.

"No!" she screamed, but it was already too late.

He saw her turn around, hugging herself with her arms wrapped around herself, backing him. It was only her torso that was bare, and she was still putting on her bra, but she was wearing a pair of denim shorts down. He hadn’t noticed that earlier. He chuckled and shook his head.

"Come on, show me where your hair is stuck. Let me help you with this."

He saw that her hair was bent backwards. A very large portion of her hair was stuck in the hook that clasped the bra around her tightly.

He frowned. "How the hell did that even happen?" he asked, tilting his head to the side and stepping closer. Then he leaned in, his eyes squinting together as he examined the way the hook tangled around her hair. "Well, this is definitely going to be so freaking hard," he said.

"Just fucking do it," she said. "My neck hurts."

The way her voice squeaked made him snicker, but he clapped his palm against his mouth quickly.

"Are you seriously finding this funny?" she snapped.

He chuckled. "Nope," he replied quickly. Then he moved his fingers, trying to wiggle her hair away from the grip of the hook, but it wouldn’t budge. He frowned, squinting his eyelids as he observed it.

"Is it working?" she asked.

He chuckled nervously. "I don’t know, Rosa. Your hair is wedged way too deep and tangled and wrapped around this thing. I don’t even know where to start to begin to untangle it."

"Oh my God!" she groaned. "Why don’t you try ripping it off with force?" she asked.

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that? What if I remove the bra completely?" he asked.

He heard her groan. "Just try anything, okay?"

"What if I cut your hair?" he asked.

"No!" she exclaimed. "Don’t you dare!" she snapped.

He chuckled and raised both of his hands in exasperation. "Well, this is going to be a very hard one. The only option right now is to unhook your bra."

"Are you fucking crazy?" she exclaimed when he said that.

He chuckled.

"It’s not funny," she said. " You are literally telling me to show you my nakedness,"

"What’s so embarrassing about that?" he asked.

She turned around to look at him, her head still bent backwards, her eyes sharp, giving him that gaze that was definitely strong enough to pierce through the wall. He quickly schooled his expression, trying to maintain that stoic face, looking at her to show how serious he was, and clearing his throat.

"Just figure out another way," she said. "God, my throat is beginning to ache. My neck is going to break any time soon. Can’t you just rip this off?"

He looked at her and then let out a soft sigh. "Okay, fine. I guess there’s only one way I can do this."

"How?" she asked.

"I’m just going to try my best to wiggle it out, but it’s going to take a long while," he said. "And it might hurt a bit "

He then squinted and bent low. After she had turned around, he saw the way she wrapped her arms around herself—the shyness of this girl. He chuckled with amusement. He tried to wiggle the tip of her hair away from the stem of the hook. He had unwrapped a few strands until he got to a section where it looked like the hook was gripping her hair, like it had no intention of letting go. He held against it, faintly tugging at it and wiggling it as fast as he could without pulling at her hair to see if it would break free, but it was proving stubborn.

He groaned with frustration. Maybe if I use too much force, he thought to himself, and then he did, and all of a sudden, it unclasped the hook of her bra.

He watched in slow motion, his eyes wide as the bra loosened away from her skin. The straps slowly began to drop. He heard her gasp. Her hair instantly became free. She yelped and spun around to look at him, her face flushed, loosening her stance, and then stumbling backwards in the process.

His eyes widened. He stretched his hand forward, wrapping it tightly around her waist to steady her, and exactly at the same time, his hips brushed against hers. The friction upset the towel around him, and it quickly loosened, falling off his body and then landing clean on the ground, pooling around his feet.

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