22

Lexi
I finish up with my last client the next day and sweep up the hair on the floor.
It feels good to have paid off Arissa, and she’s acting friendly to me, but honestly, I’m still hurt. I really, really hope I get the job at Stellar, so I can leave this place.
True to his word, Bobby had his secretary schedule an appointment for me with the EMDR therapist today, as well as a wax, manicure, and massage at a studio nearby. When I texted him to say thanks, he replied, I take care of my girl.
His girl.
The words produce an effervescent tension in me. Because I’m not his girl. Not really.
I’m his beck-and-call girl. Not his girlfriend.
I’m his available-for-sex girl. Not someone he spends the night with.
Crap. And this growing disappointment that we aren’t and can’t be more signals that I’m developing feelings for him. Which I never planned to do.
I put the broom away, and my client gets up. The door swings open, and an imposing, dark figure crosses the frame. Bobby’s carrying a bouquet of orange roses, and he looks like a million bucks, as usual.
My heart leaps at the sight of him, adrenaline erasing the weariness of working on my feet all day. The ache and stiffness in my knee. Ondrea has gone home for the day, and my client and I are the only other people in the salon. I beam a smile and hold up my finger to indicate I’ll be done in a minute.
He nods, leaning up against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, the flowers tucked under one arm.
“Ooh, who is that?” Joanna, my client, asks.
I smile. “He’s my date.”
Yeah. For all the stern lecturing I gave myself about squelching my feelings for Bobby, there’s no denying the level of excitement fluttering in my chest.
“Ooh,” Joanna murmurs appreciatively. “Lucky you.”
After she pays and leaves, I start to pull off my smock.
“Wait just a second, beautiful. I’m here to collect on one of those haircuts,” Bobby rumbles.
“Oh!” I re-tie the smock strings. “Okay, come on over.”
He sits in my chair, gazing at me in the mirror with a predatory look. I spin him around to face me, moving in close to straddle one of his knees as I run my fingers through his hair. “Just a trim?” I purr.
He grabs my ass and kneads it, his grasp possessive. “Yeah. Whatever you think is best.”
I pick up his hand and tug it. “Come on, I’ll shampoo you.”
Leading him to the sinks, I offer a chair and recline it, warming the water to the perfect temperature before I use the gentle spray nozzle to wet his hair. Something about serving him this way makes the entire experience erotic for me, the sense of power similar to when I give him a blowjob.
I take my time, massaging his scalp with shampoo, the pads of my fingers becoming a sensual tool to stimulate his pleasure, his sighs of appreciation fueling my desire to please. By the time I’ve lathered, rinsed and repeated, a steady pulse of desire thrums through me.
“Lexi.” He sounds gruff, “If you don’t sit on my cock soon, I’m going to bust.”
“Bust, huh?” I make my voice seductive as I lift the back of his chair to bring him upright and wrap a towel around his head. I walk around the front of him and kneel, unbuttoning his pants and lowering the zipper.
“Huh uh,” he says, when I free his length and lean forward to take it into my mouth. “I said sit on my cock.” He pulls out a condom and sheaths his straining length.
“Right. You have to be in charge, don’t you?” I stand.
“Come here.” He lifts my skirt and pulls me forward to straddle him. “It’s not that you don’t give the very best head,” he says, as if he’s afraid he offended me. He strokes the lips of my pussy through my panties, then slides them off and dips two fingers into my juices.
I gasp, jerking at the shock of pleasure rippling through me.
“It’s just that I really need to be in you right now.” He cups my ass and pulls my hips, so my exposed pussy rubs over the side of his cock.
“Yes,” I pant, grasping his member and lifting my hips up to guide him in.
He closes his eyes, holding my butt cheeks and pulling me against him with a slamming force, rocking his hips up each time to thrust.
We find a rhythm together, me sliding forward and back, trying to take him deeper every time. It feels wonderful. Seeing the lust in his expression empowers me.
At this rate, I won’t last long. “Oh God,” I moan.
“Lexi…”
The sound of my name uttered with such appreciation stokes my passion even more, and I claw at his back, my own animal aggression matching his.
“Please?” I whimper.
“Go ahead, baby,” he urges, and I buck at the command, the words all I need to reach the summit and topple over the edge into ecstasy. Shuddering all around him, I come, stilling to relish the sensation of having him so deep inside me. When the room stops spinning and my breath quiets, I open my eyes to gaze at the expressive lines of his face.
He wears his satisfied-cat look, heavy-lidded and sexy. “Now I can stand you cutting my hair.”
I scramble off him, the task made difficult by the post-climactic languor. He helps me to my feet and hands me the discarded panties, disposes of the condom, then follows me back to my chair, looking as relaxed as I feel.
I drape him in a cutting cape. His hair is simple to cut, but I take my time, wanting to get it perfect.
His phone rings just as I finish. He looks at the name and stands from the chair before I have a chance to brush him off and remove the drape. “I need to take this.” He strides toward the back of the salon.
I sweep up the hair and throw a load of towels in the wash. Then I follow in the direction Bobby went to retrieve his cape and clean him off. He holds up his finger with a frown when I find him.
“I’m just going to grab this cape,” I whisper, darting forward to pull it off him.
“Don’t.” His tone is sharp enough to make me jump. I spin on my heel and retreat, more offended than I’d like to be.
I go to the laundry room even though there’s nothing to be done there.
I stand at the washing machine, not seeing anything when Bobby’s strong arms close around me from behind. Not rough or demanding. Conciliatory.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be an asshole.” He runs his hands up and down my arms, across my waist. He turns me to face him. “I was a dick. I shouldn’t have barked.” He cups my face. “Forgive me, Lex?”
My nose burns unaccountably, and I nod.
“It was…business. You don’t ever want to be in the position of overhearing anything that makes you useful to the feds and a liability to the Family. I’m trying to protect you, bambi.”
I bob my head. “I understand.”
“That’s my girl.” He brushes his lips across mine then kisses them softly, coaxing a response from me. When he pulls away he strokes the back of his finger up my neck and under my chin. “Can I make it up to you?”