Fallon left Taylor room and went back to her own to take a shower too and change for breakfast. When she descended the stairs, dressed in simple black pants and a red shirt, Macy and Gina, smiled at her from the kitchen table.
"Someone cleans up well," Macy said.
"I am so sorry," Fallon said bowing her head as she approached the older woman.
He patted her on the back and served her a cup of coffee, "Everyone has their bad days dear and the pregnancy hormones, they make you hear and see things and magnify your reactions tenfold. I have carried two myself so I should know. You have a lot of arm strength though, you could have made a pretty good ballerina if you had been trained. Sugar?"
"Actually Macy, we are toning down on the caffeine right now. Fallon would just have her simple apple juice," Taylor who had just joined them said while he poured Fallon the said drink.
Fallon, took the glass and gulped it in one go and refused to raise her eyes to meet his even though she knew it was what he wanted; another empty Twilight stare, with no idea when he will initiate another intimate moment again. She was tired of him being in charge, she wanted some control too.
His hair wet was now bundled up on top of his head and tied up into a bun Fallon had to admit that he looked good with any hair.
"Has Whitney come in? My room is a mess," Taylor said while serving Fallon her second plate of breakfast.
Fallon munched on her food, silent.
"One of the cleaning staff is already upstairs, I saw her come in."
Taylor stood up with his coffee mug, "Well, I have a lot of work to do. I will be in the study if anyone needs me," he deliberately placed a kiss on top of Fallon's head and left.
"Aaaw! You guys have finally moved to the next level," Gina teased.
"Next level?" Fallon asked.
"Yes. First level, staring and not touching, people usually stay at this level for only one day or two but you guys were on it for weeks! It drove Mina and I mad."
"Weeks? It is hardly two weeks since we met."
"So? You two are attracted to each other and are both single,hook up already."
Fallon ignored the statement, "And step two is..."
"PDA," Macy said with a wink, "If you are displaying affection in company, it means you are having intense make out sessions alone. This step takes a day at most before you move on to step three."
"Which is?"
"Intense bone melting sex," Gina said, "So stop sulking, you may actually get some today if you play your cards right."
"Play my cards? It is not a game. Is there ever a step four?"
"Sometimes, but not always. See step four is the tricky part, relationship."
Fallon laughed, "I think you have got the steps backwards."
Macy and Gina looked at each other, then they both shook their heads and spoke at the same time, "No, we have got them just right."
The two of them soon left for the gym for their ballet class and Fallon took her computer and books by the pool and went to complete her assignments and be with her thoughts. She was actually supposed to have been working at the bookstore but had taken the day off to rest.
Her thoughts drifted to the conversation she had had with Gina and Macy, was a relationship really the last stage? And if it was, would hers and Taylor work after the sex was over? She had to admit that she came with a lot of baggage, it wouldn't be fair to Taylor to saddle him with two kids that were not his own. He also lived in LA and only came to Miami on occasion, would he be in willing to make the journey often for her? And will often be enough for her?The was he made her feel with just one kiss, she would want him everyday.
Taylor did not come out of his study to join the four of them for the delicious lunch prepared by Macy. Macy was forced to take his plate to him in the study and she grumbled a lot about it.
"I need to go shopping soon or I will go crazy," Gina said yawning tiredly after the lunch.
"Me too," Mina said.
"Me three and why don't we go right now?" Macy asked as she ran upstairs for her purse.
"You coming?"Mina asked, "You need a couple of things too."
Fallon shook her head, already feeling too tired to do anything but sleep. She was aware that she needed to start shopping for maternity clothes but her stomach was still as flat as it has ever been so she wasn't in such a hurry.
As they left, she was acutely aware that Whitney and the rest of the staff were away and it was just her and Taylor in the Villa but she made a resolution not to seek him out or anything. Way to take control Fallon, a small part of me mocked.
She fell asleep on the dining table and was awaken by a gentle shake. She woke up to find Taylor looking at her in panic.
"You okay?"
"Great. Fabulous. Fantastic."
If he noticed the sarcasm, he chose to ignore it,"You shouldn't be sleeping on these chairs. You could fall back and get hurt."
"Sorry not sorry," Fallon replied as she yawned and stretched, moving her neck from side to side to get rid of the crick.
"Where is Gina?"
"Shopping."
"Where is her phone?"
"With her I suppose."
"I have tried calling all three, none of them are picking up and I need her urgently."
"What for?"
"I need to fly in her hairdresser from LA."
"What time?"
"Yesterday."
Fallon could care less about his hair, "Just use one in Miami."
"That's what I was banking on but my Miami hairdresser has just lost his dad this afternoon when he was supposed to come in."
"What's the hurry? Just wait for her to come back."
"I have a Skype meeting tomorrow at 6.00 a.m and I need my hair to be exactly as it usually is."
Fallon looked at his hair and thought it looked just fine. Well, it wasn't the elaborate system of fine tuned curls it usually was but it wasn't bad either.
"Just go to the meeting with your hair as it is,no one cares."
"I care and trust me, there is a reason I wear my hair like that, it is not just a fashion statement."
"What is the reason?"
"Come with me and I will show you."
He held out a hand and helped Fallon out of her seat and led her to the study. He opened his computer and showed him the picture of a young girl, around sixteen years old, wearing her hair exactly like Taylor wore his,the hairstyles were identical to the very last curl which he usually left to fall casually in front of his face right at the top of his right ear.
"Aleah Giovanni, fifteen years old transgender kid who liked to wear her hair like that. They called her a sissy and cut off her hair and made her a public spectacle in the streets of Moscow, a few days later, she killed herself."
"I still don't understand," Fallon said, "Okay, I understand that you wear your hair like that to honor this kid which is really admirable but what has that got to do with anything?"
"Not just to honor but also to remind. I wear my hair like this to remind the Russian authorities of the life they took away by their ignorant laws, it's a statement of resistance and it annoys them to no end. If they see me tomorrow not wearing my hair Aleah style, they would think I have given up and I need them to see me in my full resistance mode tomorrow."
"Why?"
"The government has stopped the construction of the Gender Confirmation Surgery wing in our Moscow branch even though there is nothing in the law that forbids it, and they know it."
"Oh."
"So you see why it is urgent that I get Gina's hairdresser ASAP. I only trust two hairdressers in the world to pull it off."
Fallon looked at him and chewed her lip, the guilt chipping away at her conscience. She was the one who had messed up his hair after all. Since she met him, Fallon had not ever thought that his hair could be an outward symbol of something he stood for. She had just assumed it was a fashion statement. Of course Taylor was as deep as a human could get, everything about him had to have an unseen meaning. She had never felt least deserving of his affection as she had felt in that moment.
"Sit down," Fallon said with determination.
"Huh? Didn't you hear a word I said? We need to find Gina and..."
"Just sit Taylor. Please."
Her words and a gentle touch on his shoulder made him sink in his chair. She walked around him, looking at his head from from every angle before untying his hair and sifting through it with her fingers; he closed his eyes and sighed. Fallon thought she could run her fingers through his hair for days. It was so soft, the dark tendrils wrapped around her fingers gently, not as curly as usual but not so straight either.
"Can you print that Aleah picture for me please, front to back, colored."
He printed the picture and handed it to her, "Here. What did you have in mind?"
She ran a finger lightly across his one day stubble and he shuddered, undone by just her touch.
She took his arm, "Come, I need to show you something."
She led him to the third floor of the villa and opened the door to a huge open room that was mark as 'SPA and Recreation' most tenants lived in the villa for weeks and never used this particular room, but as employees, they were required to keep it clean.
Even though the room was huge, the only furniture apart from the one salon chair and one spa bed were a fluffy grey carpet that ran the entire length of the room and several white and cream coloured equally fluffy blankets. An electric fire cackled merrily in the corner when Fallon pressed a switch,soft music began to play and the lights went dimmer. Whitney often joked that she knew exactly what kind of recreation activity the creator of the room had been thinking off.
Taylor looked around, mesmerized, "Wow. I had no idea this room was up here."
"It is rarely used. I mean, clients only rent the villa for short periods of time so they never get to explore it. Come on."
Fallon made him sit on the reclining chair in the hair salon but picked up a blanket and covered the mirror.
Again, she sifted her fingers through his locks gently massaging the scalp and he closed his eyes and leaned in to her touch.
"Trust me?" She asked, her voice soft and earnest.
"With my life."
"Today, I just need you to trust me with your hair."
He opened one eye and peered at her, "You know something about hair?"
"I grew up in a hair salon, I know everything there is to know about hair."
He nodded, "Your mom was a hairdresser, I remember."
Fallon had started hanging out at her mom's hair salon as early as age two. As she grew up, she had loved going there after school and on weekends. While Berin was learning tumbling, she was learning how to set hair, blow dry, style, trim and issue just enough compliments to walk away with a huge tip. She had been a natural at it too, her mom's clients and employees loved her friendly attitude and neverending enthusiasm. By the time she turned twelve, there wasn't anything that could faze her about hair. At times, she even suspected she was a little bit better than her mom. The African American clients made appointment around her schedule simply because she was an expert with their natural curls.
By the time she set foot in high school, the money from tips and her knowledge in all matters fashion made her the coolest ninth grader ever. She colored the tips of her hair even though it was against the school rules and then cleverly hid them in a bun. She trimmed her fellow students' hair and gave them extreme makeovers in a matter of minutes behind the old library. Seniors invited her to parties and begged her to do their prom hair. By the time she joined tenth grade, she had been to every party in the high school and done every drug there was. Her popularity continued to skyrocket throughout high school as her discipline track record grew worse and worse. Then, at the beginning of junior year, her mom grew ill, a month later, her dad grew ill too, by the end of the year, they were both gone.
Since her mom's death, Fallon's passion for hairdressing just...died. No not died, it was kind of just sucked out of her. The smell of burning hair made her sick, she couldn't even bring herself to touch a pair of scissors. She let go of her once well maintained light brown locks and just let them grow, she hadn't had a trim in five years and she only blowdried when she had to. Even Berin, who had once relied on her to do her competition hair had had to learn to do it on her own.
As she plugged in the blow drier and removed the rollers from the drawer, she remembered her mother and a feeling of sadness engulfed her, but she swallowed hard and soldiered on. This was a sacrifice she was willing to make, for Taylor.
She washed his hair with his favorite apple scented shampoo, deep conditioned and then set it in rollers. After it set, she used a cleverly constructed comb, some gel and hail oil to coax his hair into its signature elaborate curls while maintaining silence the whole time. By the time she finished she was almost in tears. She uncovered the mirror and swivelled his chair so he could see himself.
He stared at her, his adoring eyes shining with gratitude, "How did you do that?"
Fallon shrugged.
He caught her by the waist and brought her to him, "Hey, you okay?" He asked gently.
Fallon nodded.
He slip from the salon chair to the floor and patted him knee, "Come here," he invited her.
She hesitated, but he pulled at her hand and she perched on his lap.
He drew her against his warm chest and hugged her tightly. It was their first hug, a pure moment of emotional expression, free of sexual intent. Fallon clung to him and placed her head in the hollow of his shoulder and soaked his shirt with tears. He held onto her tighter, not letting go, and Fallon realized that it was the first time she had cried for her parents since the she first saw her mom's body being lowered into the grave. It hurt as much as it had hurt then, but this time round, she could cry.
When her tears dried, she playfully nibbled at Taylor's soft neck, placing soft kisses along his well defined jaw and rubbing her face against the well maintained stubble.
"Fallon!" He said, part growl, part warning.
"Shh."
"We are going to mess up my hair."
She did not reply, instead, she joined their lips to prevent him from talking.
He reached for her shirt and tore open the through the buttons, they made soft sounds as the dropped on the rug. His hands rubbed at her nipples through the fabric of her bra and he inhaled deeply.
Fallon straddled him and stripped him of his shirt and slacks her hands roamed over the slender muscles, defined by years and years of ballet training.
Without warning, he flipped them over so he was the one on top. His hand reached for her bra clasp and tore the thing up in one swift motion. The well defined hand that calmed patients reached for her nipples, touching lightly, aware that they were now tender. He tenderly lowered his mouth on her right nipple, while one hand played with her left one. He sucked, then blew at it then sucked and repeated the process on her right one. His other hand her lowered pants to her hips and reached past her wet panties, his index finger dipped in just a little, and Fallon became nothing, putty in his hands, moaning out his name as she unravelled.
A few minutes later, Fallon lay on her back, breathless, as he traced loving circles on her hip bone.
"I take it back, I believe there is a higher power," Fallon said. It had never felt this good with Tom, on with anyone else.
He placed a kiss on her shoulder and moved to nibble at her neck, "Told you you would. Want to experience the higher power again?" He asked with a grin.
"I thought we just...oh."
Fallon was amazed by how quickly he had recovered.
"Ballet dancers recover their strength faster," he told her.
She pushed down on his chest to prevent him from straddling her again, "No. This time round, I am taking control."
He dropped back with a smile, "Good for you."
Fallon smiled with satisfaction. She had promised herself to make him scream the previous day, and she intended to keep that promise.