This was written for this week’s #LyricalFictionFridayChallenge.
Richard is standing behind me and I’m sitting deathly still waiting for him to react. I close my eyes as he leans in and fills my ear with his hot breath.
“No other man could ever do you the way that I do.”
I say nothing.
“How could you do it? Of all the men in this city, you turned to him? If you were unhappy, you should have talked to me!” He slides his hands along my shoulder blades and he pauses dramatically when he reaches the base of my neck. Hopefully, he won’t strangle me.
His voice is barely audible to the people sitting around us. His tone always sends tingles up my spine and makes my skin prickle in a sick yet satisfying way.
“It had nothing to do with not being happy! I just needed…”
“It kills me to know that you let him touch you! You let his hands play with what is rightfully mine. I’m not even sure if I want you back.”
His hands fall away from my neck, slides back down my shoulders and my face flushes with shame.
“I’m sorry. But…but you weren’t around to give me what I needed.”
“So that’s the way you’re going to play this off? You’re blaming me? I was only gone for one week!”
“I know, I’m sorry but…”
“All I keep seeing is his hands running through your hair and…”
Disgust chokes Richard’s words and then there we are, at a quiet standstill.
I can’t lose him, I refuse to lose him. I’ve waited far too long to have a man like this to lose him now. I need to make “us” right. Just being sorry isn’t going to cut it.
That’s when it hits me – I know what I have to do. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
“Richard, I’ll make it up to you.”
“Uh…You know that thing you’ve always fantasized doing to me? Well, I’ll let you do it. I’ll let you have your way.”
I keep my eyes shut while I wait for his reaction. A quiet moment passes and once again, his hands find their way back to my shoulders. He squeezes them with anticipation and suddenly his lips are almost pressed against my ear again.
“Really? You’re that sorry?”
“I’ll let you do anything you want to me. But one time and one time only. But you can never bring up what I did again and you can never ever kick me to the curb. Agreed?”
As I feel the whoosh of the plastic smock sweep across my body to imprison me, I finally raise my eyes and look at his reflection in the mirror facing us. A smile spreads wide across his face as he runs all ten fingers through the hair that I have never let him cut beyond its current shoulder length.
As his hands continue to play, his eyes glaze over as if he is literally turned on by fondling it. I am slightly repulsed at his excitement but feel a little empowered by the hold I seem to have over him in this tiny moment. Like a mad man, Richard’s eyes dart across the array of scissors and on the work space in front me.
“Hmmm…I’ve more than fantasized about giving you a sexy bob cut, hiding the grey and turning you into a fiery hot red-head with a little blond streak. It’s time you get off the grey line and I’ll guarantee that the men will fall in line in no time at all during this holiday season.”
Richard turns to bark orders at one of the many young wanna-be-famous-too assistants to prep me.
“I’m going to do you sooo right that you won’t be able to walk out of this salon!”
I stifle a laugh at how everything Richard says has sexual undertones but is always related to hair.
Like all of the other women submissively waiting their turn with “Good Dick”, the nickname clients called him behind his back, I have no intention of upsetting the apple cart. Never again would I dare have my hair touched by his arch rival across town.
If keeping myself in Richard’s good graces and on the salon’s exclusive client list means giving him my head, I’m prepared to swallow that bitter pill and pay the price of my betrayal because Richard’s hands are pure magic.
And in this city, another Good Dick is hard to find.
All Rights Reserved ©2017 Marquessa Matthews