522 Danger Clipper

A gasp escaped Katherine's lips when Damien pushed her towards her bedroom, closing the door behind him and locking it. "What?!" she exclaimed when she faced him.

"What are you doing?" he asked with an unreadable expression.

"Getting you a haircut," she answered casually, turning around and heading towards the bathroom. She felt sticky from doing her workout and going for a swim, so she couldn't wait to get in the tub and take a long nice, warm bath.

Hearing footsteps following her, she glanced sideways and saw him looking at the floor while walking. This big baby was so worried about getting a haircut from his mama. How adorable.

Katherine wasn't kidding when she said Damien told her he wanted to get a haircut soon, but he was too busy lately; thus, he kept postponing his appointment with his stylist. His hair had gotten longer that whenever he doesn't style it, the strands would fall past his brows and cover his eyes. Of course, he still looked handsome whatever his hairstyle was, but he complained and said it was getting too hot.

And because Amelia presented it, Katherine just wanted to help. Another perfect opportunity for the two to bond.

"Ah, by the way… Have you heard from Jeffrey about the pills?" Katherine wondered as she stepped inside the bathroom and prepared her bath. Tossing Damien's suit jacket onto the counter and dropping the wet towel to the floor, she grabbed a comb and carefully combed through her hair, making sure there were no tangles.

Watching her from the side, he dug his hands into his pockets and stared at her as he responded, "No updates from Jeffrey yet, but I'll try to call him later."

"What are you staring at?" She chuckled. And when Damien didn't answer, she shrugged and strolled towards the tub. Knowing that he was standing behind her, she turned to the right so that he could see her side profile when she strips her clothes off.

He stiffened when Katherine started peeling her wet swimsuit off her body. From where he stood, he could see her skin glisten under the ceiling lights. Her perky breasts bounced once they were released from the confinements of her hydrasuit. And without much thought, he naturally loosened his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt as he sauntered towards her.

Then, Damien stood right behind her, his front pressed against her back, and his arms circled her waist. Brushing her hair to the side, his lips dove to her neck, giving her open mouth kisses.

"Mmm…" she moaned. He was already rock hard, and that made her smile.

Roaming his hands on her body, he glided them upwards to cup her breasts, but just as his thumbs brushed the swells, Katherine turned around to face him and caught his hands. Surprise filled his face as he waited for her to speak.

"But I want to get in the bath with you…" His voice was toneless.

"You're just saying that because you're scared to get that haircut from her. Amelia is actually skilled at these things—she cut my hair weeks ago. What could go wrong?" she probed.

The two exchanged gazes for a while before Damien let out a heavy sigh, pressing his forehead against her bare shoulder while his hands settled on her hips. "Fine," he muttered.

"That's good—aw!" Katherine slapped his arm when he playfully bit her shoulder. It didn't really hurt at all—she was just surprised.

"That's for throwing me under the bus." He raised his head and stared at her right in the eye, saying, "If I end up bald, you're gonna get it."

"Oh, Damien, I'm sure you'd still rock it." She kissed him on the lips, a bright smile ghosting her lips as she turned him around and pushed him out of her bathroom. "Now go. I need some 'me' time."

He stopped in his tracks and abruptly faced her. "Wait—when you say 'me' time. You don't mean you're going to—"

"Ugh. You're so dirty-minded, Mr. Park." Katherine shoved him out until he was past the door frame.

He straightened his back, his heart racing at the thought of her alone in the tub. Why would she leave him out of it? "But—"

"But wouldn't you like to know?" A sexy, daring smile painted her beautiful face just before she closed the door on his face. She chuckled as she went back and got in the tub, certain that Damien would be thinking about her all night—possibly having a good 'me' time without him.

…

At the powder room

Amelia was cleaning up her stuff and putting them away. When she was about to brush the hair on the floor, a figure appeared on the doorway, and a knock was heard.

"Damien," she called, seeing her son standing before her.

"I—um… Can you help me with my hair?" Damien mumbled.

She released the breath that she didn't know she was holding, and then she nodded. "Of course. Come, sit."

He hesitated at first, but then he summoned the courage to trust her. And he was relieved when she suggested that she shampoo his head first because he used a pomade to style his hair. It seemed like she really knew what she was doing.

Damien felt a bit more relaxed when she started asking him about his day, a small talk that he doesn't really like when his stylist does it. But with her, it felt natural, and he ended up telling her more about his day.

Once they were done with the shampoo, Amelia blow-dried his hair and combed it through. "How do you want your hair to be?" she asked.

"Just a trim, I guess…"

She prepped him up by putting a cloth around him, just like in the salons. He sat in front of the sink with a huge mirror, and his mother stood behind him, holding scissors and hair clippers as though she was trying to figure out what to do first. He swallowed.

"Don't worry. While I was hiding states away, being a hairstylist was one of my jobs…" she said as she plugged the hair clippers into the power extension sockets on the floor. "Alright, I'm gonna start now."

Damien couldn't deny that his heart was racing. What was he so nervous about? Surely, she knew what she was doing, and she's his mother—she wouldn't screw this up, right?

Amelia turned on the clippers, and it made a soft buzzing sound. He closed his eyes the moment that the steel of the clippers touched the base of his head. Then, he felt gentle strokes in upward motions and he relaxed.

"Oh my!" She gasped.

His eyes flew open and caught her stepping back, horror written all over her face. Then, his gaze darted to the ball of hair clumped in her hand. She muttered 'I'm sorrys,' but it was barely audible—Damien swore he felt the blood drain from his face. 

He was still tongue-tied when he reached the back of his head to check where the damage was done. His eyes grew wide and he stared at her through the mirror, unsure of what to say.

All of a sudden, Amelia threw her head back and burst out laughing. "Oh, my god. I was just kidding. This is Felix's hair. You should have seen the look on your face."

His shoulders relaxed, and he shook his head. He couldn't believe she got him—she got him good.

"Now, would you relax and just trust me? You're so stiff," she said.

Taking a deep breath, Damien nodded and smiled as he answered, "Okay."