BEARD

"Dingo, sit down," Angela demanded. Her husband eyed her warily, keeping the kitchen chair squarely between them. What did he think she was going to do? Tackle him?

"I changed my mind," he said, a nervous eye straying to the tool in her hand as though she were plotting to murder him with it – as if that was even possible.

Angela sighed. This standoff was getting beyond ridiculous. "Dingo, you agreed to this. Now: Sit. Down."

He shook his head. "I was under duress."

She arched a brow skeptically. As she recalled the activities that led to that particular discussion were far from unpleasant.

"Well, coercion, then," he half-conceded her point.

"Dingo, we're not removing a limb. It's just a shave."

"But I like my beard." He ran a hand along the shadowy scruff that lived in the space between his jawline and his neck. "It's manly and contributes to my rugged good looks."

She rolled her eyes. "It's scruffy. And it itches when you're kissing me."

"It doesn't even touch you when we're kissing!"

She propped a hand on one hip. "Not on the lips, idiot."

"Oh." He grinned weakly. "I thought you liked that."

"I do. But I might like it more without the skin irritation after."

He pouted. God, the man was such a child. Were all men like this? She'd never been in a relationship before him, so she didn't know. Whether it was a trait common to all males, or a Dingo special, she'd had enough. It was time to pull out the big guns.

"Zarik Kajiwara, if you don't sit in that chair you're sleeping on the couch for a week."

He gaped at her. It was understandable, they hadn't slept apart in the entire time they'd been together. It was an agreement they'd made early on, that they would never use their relationship as a weapon or a bargaining chip.

"Angela." He sounded positively betrayed.

She held her ground. She wasn't being petty, this wasn't a cheap shot, it was a lesson in responsibility. "If you go back on your word there have to be consequences, Dingo. That's the way it works."

He shook his head. "Dirty pool, Ange, dirty pool."

She shrugged.

Their gazes met and held, weighing one another's determination. At length, Dingo's shoulders slumped.

"It's really that important to you?" he asked.

"A promise is a promise."

"I have to stop talking during sex," he muttered, but he moved around to take a seat on the chair.

Angela smiled at him smugly as she wrapped a towel around his shoulder and turned on the electric razor. "Yeah, good luck with that."

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Dingo stared mournfully into the mirror in Angela's hand. His own hand caressed the newly bared strip of skin in the shadow beneath his jawline.

"It looks so . . . naked," he said.

Angela titled her head, studying his face critically. "I like it," she said firmly. It was different, but not bad, and she couldn't wait to feel its smoothness against her bare skin.

Dingo crossed his arms petulantly across his chest. "I don't. I look like a teenager."

She rolled her eyes. "It'll grow back, you big baby."

"Well, yeah. But it won't be the same."

Seriously? That didn't even deserve a response. She turned to tuck the mirror into its home in the junk drawer and then sauntered back to him. She prodded him to move his arms so she could sit in his lap; he cooperated reluctantly.

"You know, it's not all bad," she said, smoothing her hand up his chest. "There are benefits to being beardless."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" he challenged.

With a single, smooth motion, she twisted, throwing her left leg over his other side to straddle him. That shut him up rather quickly.

"Well, for starters," she leaned in close, dropping her voice to a low purr, "if you had a beard you wouldn't be able to feel this." She pressed soft kisses along his jaw line and he shivered, hands rising, fingers blindly searching out the bare skin of her hips between her low cut jeans and her tank top.

When she added her tongue to the sweet, slow torture, he groaned, fingers clenching almost convulsively.

She hummed a laugh against his throat.

He pried one eye open to favor her with a look of adoration and a lopsided smile. When he spoke his voice was a low, husky rasp that sent shivers of pleasure up her spine.

"I think I can live without the beard."

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Another super-short one. Personally, I like Dingo's scruff, so he'll be growing it back. I've organized a posting schedule (at least as far as order I'll be posting the one-shots I've already written goes) and the next few are longer again. Hope you enjoyed your Dingo/Angela fluff fix!

reenas-as