Then I brush through the mass that I call my hair. The curls at the ends are snarled, and I let out a growl getting frustrated. Why is being beautiful so hard to manage? “Are you ready to go, Jenna an….” Corey’s voice suddenly cuts off behind me. There’s a deep look in his eye when we make eye contact in the mirror. His are dilated as he looks me up and down; his gaze stopping at my ass for a moment too long. I think he likes what he sees, because he covers up what I think is a growl with a cough. “Are you ready to go?” He asks, his voice deep. I gaze into his eyes through the mirror, as I move my hair from one side of my neck to the other putting it in a fish tail braid. His eyes stay trained to that little strip of skin that I just removed my hair from. I watch him for a moment longer as I begin to feel the air in the room electrify. Our eyes meet again, and I can practically hear the crackle and pop of our gaze meeting. “Yeah, just give me a minute.”
