In Too Deep Page 4

  “Wait, what are you…?” She had noticed his tray. He had set it on the table next to the tea tray.

  “Giving you a haircut.”

  “I thought Audra was talking out of turn, and then I realized you really have no idea what I do.” He sent her his most reassuring smile.

  “You don’t have to give me that face. I’ve never given someone a bad haircut, and I’m not about to start now.”

  “Look, it’s nothing personal, but every haircut I’ve gotten lately has been bad, and I’ve been growing this one out for four months. You don’t even want to know how bad it looked four months ago. I really appreciate the offer but….”

  He beamed at her and held out his hand. He waited, and eventually, she removed her hands from the edge and walked over to him. She seemed to grapple with some momentous decision. He watched it flick over her face better than any movie. Finally, she took his hand.

  He gave it a squeeze. “Come sit with me.” He pulled out a chair and she sat. He pulled up a chair alongside hers and sat close enough that their arms touched.

  “I find it adorable that you will let me put you over my desk and spank you in your skivvies but the thought of my cutting your hair has you done up in knots.”

  She blushed and her eyes flickered closed just for a moment. Trick had to swallow his laugh. Instead, he reached over and put his hands in her hair. Someone had given her lousy layers but he could correct that easily enough. It felt good to have his hands on her again. Right. He ran his hands slowly through her hair, pretending to examine it. Really, he just wanted to touch her. Soothe her.

  “There’s no way out of it, you know. I am cutting your hair, but let me show you some pictures first. I know you’re nervous, beautiful girl, but short hair is what’s going to suit you. Your features are delicate. Your hair needs to just graze your jaw.” He skimmed his fingers lightly over her skin to demonstrate.

  “It will accentuate the line of your neck. And some baby bangs will focus attention on your eyes.”

  Trick reluctantly took his hands off her and picked up his phone.

  “Come on, drink your tea while we verbally spar this out. I’ll be honest, I never have to work this hard to convince someone to let me cut their hair. I’m sort of looking forward to it.” He leaned over to give her a kiss on her temple.

  “Mentally rifle through your best arguments and I will show you some pictures. Here. These are some examples of my work. Then I’ll look for a picture that shows the haircut I have in mind for you.”

  He took his phone and pulled up his Instagram. He began to scroll through the pictures.

  “Wouldn’t you like to spend your time punishing me instead?”

  Trick laughed.

  “Make no mistake, Louisa. I will punish you. Later. Now look at the pictures, please.”

  He handed her the phone.

  As she started to scroll down the screen, her eyes got wide and she made a funny noise.

  “This your work?” she asked in a tight voice.

  “That’s my work Louisa.” Didn’t she like it? Trick was old enough that most opinions about his work didn’t matter. He wanted the client to love it, of course, but they always did. He felt a tug in his stomach. He needed her to like his work. Hell, he wanted her to love his work.

  “I love it.” But her voice still sounded funny. “I didn’t realize. . . some of those women have won Oscars. You must think I’m an idiot for trying to turn you down. Women must line up to have you cut their hair.”

  “Don’t call yourself names, love. I’m simply good at what I do. And yes. I cut all these women’s hair and now I cut yours.”

  “I get that you’re some sort of hair god, but my hair really doesn’t look good short.” She whispered it like a confession.

  ‘It will when I cut it. Here.” He scrolled down the page until he found the image.

  “What do you think of this? It will draw attention to your eyes, which are stunning, and it’s got a little rock and roll edge with that baby bang.”

  He knew he had her when he saw her face.

  “You can really make it look like that.”

  “I promise you. You’re going to love this haircut.”

  “Alright. You win,” she said, finally.

  “I knew I would,” he said, sticking a cookie in her mouth with a laugh. She took a bite and he put the other end in his mouth.

  “Really?” she said, finding a bit of her steel.

  “Really, love, if you gave me any trouble, I was simply going to strap you to the chair.”

  He was teasing, but the instant he said it, her whole body stilled. Then her green eyes grew wide, and her cheeks flushed. The idea turned her on.

  “Can you sit still for me, love? Or do I have to strap you in?”

  “You wouldn’t?” Her voice came out in a husky whisper.

  “Try me. Promise me you’ll be a good girl and sit still, or I’ll have to tie you down.”

  “With what?” she said. “It’s not like you have any rope up here. Do you?”

  She looked so unsure and excited all at once that he wanted to kiss her senseless. First, he would give her the adventure she was obviously craving.

  “That’s the wrong answer little girl.” He wrapped his hand around her wrist hard and tugged her to her feet. “You think I need rope to tie you up, love?” He leaned in and whispered the words into her ear. “Do you think I’m an amateur?” he laughed.

  She was so responsive. Her whole body had started to tremble with anticipation.

  He unzipped her hoodie till it reached her collarbone. A beautiful coffee colored lacy bra peeked out at him.

  “Lovely. Did you wear that for me?”

  She swallowed hard, and blushed even harder.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, Louisa. I dressed up for you too, love. I rarely wear a suit.”

  “You look beautiful,” she said. “I mean. . .you know what I mean, handsome, not. . . “

  “Thank you, Louisa.” He claimed her mouth and tried to kiss her embarrassment away. He wanted her to give him everything. Her embarrassment, her shame, all her awkward turns of phrase. How could he tell her he loved every earnest, awkward phrase that came out of her mouth?

  He settled her into a chair in the shade. Then he tugged at her cuffs and started to pull her sleeves down over her hands. The sweatshirt slipped off her shoulders, exposing her bra completely.

  “Someone could see me.” She tried to pull away.

  He tightened his grip on her sleeves.

  “It’s a private rooftop, lovely girl. My rooftop. No one’s allowed up here but me and you. It’s possible someone might catch a glimpse of you through their windows if they were inclined to peep, so if you want to stop now, say so.”

  “Don’t stop,” she said.

  God, he was starting to think she was made for him. She didn’t even hesitate. Just answered immediately in a voice husky with anticipation.

  Good.

  He rewarded her with a kiss. She was breathing hard, and her eyes were slightly unfocused. She was made for this. God, it was like she was made for him.

  He unzipped her hoodie till it bared her belly button. He’d chosen the chair for a reason. The back was an open metal design with one metal bar in the center and two metal wings that joined in the center like the shape of a heart. There was plenty of room to slide her arms through the wings and secure them behind her back. He used the arms of her hoodie to tie her to the metal spine of the chair.

  He ran his fingertips over her bare shoulder, tracing the perfect architecture of her collarbone. She practically came off the chair, trying to arch into his touch.

  “Easy. You have to sit still like a good girl. I have a job to do.”

  He let his fingers dip down and skate over the lace of her bra. He flicked his fingertip over her nipple just to watch her jump.

  “So lovely. I don’t suppose the panties match.”

  She flushed a beautiful strawberry, and he let his finge
rs trail down to the button fly of her jeans.

  “You don’t want to answer me like a good girl, then I suppose I have to check for myself.”

  He unbuttoned her fly and let his fingers graze over the lace of the matching panties.

  “Lovely, but you didn’t answer me. I suppose I will have to add some time to your sentence.”

  She squirmed in the chair. God, he was getting hard watching her bound to his chair, her face already flushed with pleasure.

  He found his water bottle and began to spray her hair down so he could section it off. Anything to distract him from his rock hard cock.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten so excited so quickly. His control was always better than this.

  Trick worked quickly to section her hair off. He wanted to cut the length off before she could overthink it and change her mind. Trick knew she was scared, but he was going to make her look like a badass goddess.

  “When you love this, and make no mistake, you are going to fucking love this, we are going to make you a blonde, love. Badass platinum blonde.”

  She smiled a shy smile. He wondered what he would have to do to earn an unguarded grin.

  “I’ve always wanted to do that, be a blonde.” She whispered it like a confession.

  “We’ll do it today, then. I keep some supplies for private clients downstairs.” For some reason he found himself wanting to be the one who gave her things. What else do you want, love?

  “Oh, no, that’s okay, thank you so much. It’s really hard to maintain, right? I’m not sure I can afford to do that now; maybe when we’re in the season at work and the tips go up. Thank you though.”

  “Louisa,” he said firmly. “I’ll touch it up for you. It’s a simple process, and if you ever want to return to a more natural look, I can do that for you as well. It will be my pleasure. If you want to say thank you, maybe you could paint something for me.”

  “Of course I would paint something for you, but you really don’t have to.”

  “It will be my pleasure,” he said firmly.

  He cut the length away in the back, and her look paled as she watched the hair fall to the ground in sheets.

  “Did you always know you wanted to be an artist, love?” he said to distract her.

  “No, I always loved to draw, but I didn’t think real people could do this for a living. Hell, I’m still not sure real people can do this for a living.”

  “It’s a brave life, Louisa. But it seems like you’re doing well. You already have work hanging in a coffee shop. How long did it take you to accomplish that after you moved to the city?”

  “Four weeks,” she said, and she couldn’t keep the pride out of her voice.

  “Impressive.”

  “Just because full time artists are rare doesn’t mean you won’t become one, love.”

  “Thank you.”

  Once, she seemed to settle down, Trick let himself focus on the cut, carving the hair away and leaving strong architectural lines that made her face look even sweeter.

  “Alright, Louisa. I’m going to cut the bangs now.” He knelt in front of her to get the best angle.

  He watched her as he cut the bangs. She didn’t seem nervous anymore.

  Fuck it. He realized he was nervous. It had suddenly become imperative that she liked, hell, that she loved, this haircut.

  He realized his hand was shaking. His hands hadn’t shaken since he was a kid testing out at Vidal Sassoon. He took a deep breath and shook the thoughts off, willing his hands to stop shaking.

  Done.

  He stood up, put his shears on the table, and reached around to free her arms.

  “Are your arms sore, love?” He massaged her wrists and ran his hand up and down over her arms. Then he pulled her hoodie back on and zipped her back up.

  “No” she said, sounding impatient. “How does it look?”

  She sounded like a little girl. He couldn’t resist teasing her.

  “It’s a little lopsided, but don’t worry I can fix it. . . I think.”

  Panic flashed over her face before she realized he was teasing.

  “That was so not nice,” she said, laughing. She gave him a playful punch in the shoulder.

  Trick grabbed hold of her hand.

  “Hitting me? You are aching to be punished, aren’t you?”

  She flushed. He held her hand steady for a moment, just to touch her.

  “How does it look, really?” she demanded.

  “You look lovely, but you might as well relax. You won’t be taking a look for hours at least. We have to color it, and then I’ll have to punish you, and your indiscretions keep adding up.”

  “No. You have to let me look.”

  “No. It’s not even dry. Come on, let’s get you downstairs. It’s a lovely day, but color will be much easier downstairs.

  He started to put his supplies back on the tray, and Louisa collected their mugs and cookies on her tray.

  They rode silently down in the elevator. Trick purposely walked her down the hall to the entrance near his studio for private clients.

  “Wait in the hall for a moment and let me turn the mirror around. I want you to see the finished product.” He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

  As soon as he opened his studio door, he heard her footsteps running down the hall to the front room.

  “Louisa,” he called out as he followed her to the front room. When he reached it, his heart broke.

  She was standing in the room in front of the large oval mirror. She was slowing moving her head from side to side, riveted by the image in the mirror, and she was crying silently.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  “Louisa, it’s not finished. It’s a very different thing to see it colored and dry.

  Who was he kidding? Like she would let him color it now.

  “Tell me what you don’t like and I will find a way to fix it. I’m sorry,” he said, feeling helpless.

  Finally, she turned to face him. She was crying so hard he couldn’t understand her words.

  “Love, I can’t understand you.”

  “Sorry,” she said after a long moment. “I love it. I love it so much; it’s just overwhelming. I never thought I could like this.”

  “Like what, Louisa?”

  “Beautiful,” she said, wiping a hand over her face. “I’m sorry for the tears. It’s stupid, I know. I’ve just never looked this good and it’s a little overwhelming, sorry.”

  “You like it?” he asked. It took him a minute to decipher her words through the tears.

  “Love it.” She walked over and hugged him. “Thank you,” she mumbled through her tears.

  He held her tight and let himself breathe.

  “Sorry I cheated,” she said when she finally collected herself.

  “Will you still color it?” she asked.

  “Of course,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

  “Even though you made my heart stop. I thought you didn’t like it.”

  She looked up at him incredulous.

  “How could anybody not like it? It’s perfect.”

  “I’m sorry, I got a little confused by the hysterical crying.”

  “Come on. We’ve got work to do, and you keep adding to your punishments,” he said, giving her bottom a swat.

  An hour later, Louisa lay on his shampoo bed, toner in her hair.

  He had twenty minutes of the lovely Louisa prostrate on his bed, and too many good ideas. He sat on the edge of the bed and began to tug her shoes off. Her eyes opened.

  “What are we?”

  “Shh, Louisa. The penitent doesn’t ask the questions, remember?”

  He shucked off her socks, rolled them up, and stowed them neatly in the shoes and then began to work on the buttons of her fly.

  “Jeans are coming off, dear one.”

  Her eyes were warm with anticipation. He actually watched her face work as she fought not to ask her questions. God, she was so expressive.

 
He pulled them down her lovely legs slowly and then took his time folding them neatly and setting them atop the counter.

  “Panties next.”

  He tugged them off swiftly and then folded them and tucked them into his vest pocket.

  “You can’t take my panties.” She groaned.

  “Just did, love.”

  He walked to the bathroom and let her mind ponder what he was going to do her. He came back with a brand new straight razor, shaving cream, and a bowl of water.

  “These curls are beautiful, but I’ve decided I would like you bare for your punishment. You’ve never been bare before?”

  “No,” she said shyly.

  Good. He loved being her first. If she didn’t deserve more, he would take her to his bed, but he knew he would never let her go, and he had to let her go.

  She was young; she deserved what Trick could never give.

  Chapter 8

  ***Lou***

  Of all the things Lou had imagined Trick might do to her, she had never imagined he would want to do this. And the way he said, “I want to shave you bare,” made her feel tight and restless.

  Suddenly, she wanted this. It felt a little weird and dirty to want it so much, but she did.

  “Spread your legs for me, lovely.”

  “Now,” he commanded, when she took too long to respond.

  “Do you want this?” he asked as he sat his supplies on the counter.

  Lou closed her eyes; it made it easier to answer him.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Good,” he answered. “But you will keep your eyes open from now on. Do you understand me?”

  Lou nodded, and she managed to keep her eyes on him.

  “I want you here with me.”

  He had taken his vest off, and now he took his time rolling up his sleeves neatly and pushing them up past his elbows.

  He took a spray bottle off the shelf and began to spray her curls down till she was soaking inside and out.

  “Now it’s very important you remain still for me. The razor is sharp. Do you think you can do that?”

  Lou nodded.

  His hand came down and slapped her pussy hard.

  What the fuck? Why did that feel so good?