I had started this shit to piss off Tony, but now Freddie was creeping me out. No one kept their eyes open while being shampooed. It was weird.
I tried to make small talk, but everything I normally talked to my clients about sounded flirty,Are you married? Do you have kids? What did you do over the weekend?
I didn’t even dare ask about his job, knowing Tony wouldlose his mind talking about jail and criminals. So I silently washed the man’s hair while he stared at me.
I skipped the second wash and conditioner, uncomfortable with the way this had gone. When Freddie sat back down in the chair, I glanced at Tony.
I swallowed hard at the look in his eyes. He was angry, but I knew it wasn’t at me. Not anymore. Tony was no longer watching me as I cut Freddie’s hair. He was glaring at the man in front of me.
“So, Simon, are you seeing anyone?”
“Wh-what?” I stuttered, shocked that he would be so bold.
“I was asking you out.” He smiled at me through the reflection in the mirror.
“Oh, well—”
“Simon won’t be dating anyone during the trial,” Tony answered for me.
Freddie quickly glanced at Tony, and his eyes hardened. If I hadn’t been watching, I would have missed it.
“Then maybe after you’re acquitted,” Freddie offered, looking back at me.
“M-maybe.” I forced a smile and cut his hair as quickly as I could.
When he walked out the door after giving me a generous tip and a card with his number on it, Tony walked over and locked the door.
He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.
Chapter Twelve
Matlock
I followed Freddie to the door, my hands aching with the desire to wrap them around the motherfucker’s neck and squeeze the life out of him. As soon as he left, I locked the door behind him and turned around, leaning back against the door. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stared at Simon as he cleaned up around his chair.
“You just can’t control that fucking mouth, can you?” I snarked, pushing off the door and stalking across the room.
“Tony,” Simon said with a sigh.
“Shut your fucking mouth, Simon.”
As I walked past, I grabbed his arm and dragged him into the back room once again. I couldn’t punish him in the salon. Not with the huge front windows that couldn’t be covered.
“Tony, I’m sorry.”
I spun him around until he faced me. “Do I need to keep my cock lodged in your fucking throat to keep you from talking?”
Simon’s eyes flared and the pulse at the base of his throat thumped. He swallowed hard as my hand collared his neck. “Get on your knees.”
Simon swallowed again, and I felt his Adam’s apple roll under my palm. I watched as my fingers flexed around his throat. Listened as he released a puff of air from a gasp. Felt his warm breath across my face.
My cock hardened, pressing against the back of my zipper. Aching to reach out to Simon. To meet his hand, his mouth, his ass. It didn’t care where, as long as it made contact with the one person who knew how to take care of the pain.
“No.”
My eyes snapped to his. “What did you say?”
“I said no, Tony. I’m done.”
