Control Freak

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Control Freak Page 17

by Sophia Vice


  I am already turning red.

  “Did you go to your usual place? It looks different.”

  Adam laughs. “What, you don’t like it?”

  Ricky tilts his head to the side, his eyes squinted with the kind thoughtful attention only a professional would have. At that moment, I remember that Ricky is a professional hair stylist. Oh my god. This is so embarrassing. Don’t tell them I cut your hair!

  “No, I really like it. The style of it is very on-trend and suits the shape of your face better. But I might have made some of the edges slightly cleaner.” In a breach of personal space that surprises me, Ricky reaches across the table and touches some of the strands of Adam’s hair. Adam obliges by leaning his head forward as Ricky inspects the haircut.

  I’m slowly sinking into my seat, hoping the conversation will move on, when Adam blows my cover.

  “Kyle cut it, actually.” He looks at me proudly.

  “Oh my god! Kyle, have you been keeping secrets?” Ricky turns all of his laser-beam focus on me.

  Jason is already grinning boyishly ear-to-ear. He knows plenty about my haircutting credentials.

  I can feel the heat in my face, and I know that I’m absolutely beet-red with embarrassment. “I don’t have any experience as a stylist. It’s just…” I trail off, suddenly ashamed to admit that Jason and I cut each other’s hair because we were poor and had absentee parents to boot.

  “She cut my hair growing up,” Jason swoops in to save me. “She was good at it even when we were little. And she pretty much cut everyone’s hair in high-school.”

  Ricky looks at Adam’s hair with renewed interest. “That’s amazing for no professional training. You have a real talent. You just learned from experience?”

  I blush more. “I’ve watched a few youtube videos, but basically, yeah.”

  Ricky shakes his head. “Amazing. Have you thought about going to school for it and becoming licensed?”

  My eyes widen. “I haven’t. I mean, I’ve always done it just for fun.”

  “So? That’s how it starts, right? I was cutting my mom’s hair when I was twelve.”

  I grin. “Really?”

  Ricky nods emphatically. “That woman had the worst taste in the world. She used to go to this place called Fab Cuts on the corner, and they would give her this awful bowl cut. She needed me to save her from herself. But seriously, you should consider it. It isn’t for everyone, but if you really enjoy the process and feel like you could make a life out of making people look amazing, it’s a pretty great career. No back-breaking labor or stuffy desk work.”

  “I hate both of those things!” I sit up straighter in my seat.

  “Right? I was a dishwasher for years before I got licensed and started at a salon and I was like praise god, I’ve finally made it.” His expression grows speculative. “You know, I would one-hundred percent take you on at my studio once you’re licensed. There’s a great school in town I recommend too. It’s a little expensive though.” His eyes flicker briefly between Jason and Adam, and I feel a flare of indignation. He’s wondering who would pay for that, I think to myself.

  “Actually,” I say, “do you think I could shadow you at your salon? That way I can see you work and figure out if it’s for me while I save up money for a program once I get a job.”

  Just that one look from Ricky has already made me decide that I don’t want Adam to pay for any schooling that I receive. It feels too much like a sugar daddy. He can give me gifts, but paying tuition or program fees is too much. I need to prove to myself that I am an independent woman that can make her way through the world independently if she chooses. I want to be able to stand on my own two feet. If I can’t, then I’ll never prove to myself that I’m not that girl that was crying on the floor of her apartment because she was too drunk and lazy to pay her electricity bill.

  I’m not that girl anymore. I don’t want to be that girl anymore. I’ve changed—all the new muscles I’ve developed can attest to that.

  “Are you looking for a job right away? Any job?” Ricky asks.

  I nod. “I’m searching night and day. Just something to tide me over while I figure out what I want to do career-wise.”

  Ricky bobs his head thoughtfully. “Totally. Well, would you be interested in running the front desk at my salon? I’m looking for someone right now, and I think you would be a great face for the salon. It isn’t hard, and you would mainly be doing scheduling. What do you think?”

  I’m so excited I feel like I can hardly stay in my seat. The job sounds fun but low stress, I love Ricky, and best of all I can see if the stylist life is the one I want. “That would be amazing!”

  Ricky claps his hands together. “Oh my god! How perfect is this!”

  “So perfect!” I agree.

  Chris smiles at his husband indulgently. “I can already tell you two are going to get along famously.”

  Ricky winks at me. “That’s right. Kyle’s going to be my new home-girl. How’s thirty hours a week to start?”

  “That’s great.” I’m still grinning like a maniac, and I have to remember to finish my breakfast despite my excitement.

  “Do you think I should cut my hair short, Ricky?” Julia asks, and Ricky tells her that she would look hot with a pixie cut as I grin at my plate.

  “Congratulations, baby,” Adam whispers in my ear.

  My life is so blessed. I just hope—desperately—that Adam will stay in it.

  My first two weeks at the salon go really well. I make a few mistakes with the scheduling technology at first, but Ricky is patient and understanding. He and the other two female stylists are constantly cracking jokes, so the work environment is light and fun. The salon is urban and cool, with an all-white modern interior design pallet mixed with exposed wood. Adam and I have a new ritual of going to the gym super early before either of us has to go to work, so I usually arrive at the salon energized.

  I used my first paycheck to go shopping with Shauna and Lily, and now I have a very small, but very chic capsule wardrobe. I can at least look the part as the salon’s ‘face.’

  I also love how my changing body makes me feel like a newer, more confident person. I go into work feeling cool—kind of like the girls I always envied before.

  That is, until Ricky bursts my bubble early one morning in the salon. It’s only me and him, and he’s been busy restocking some shampoo and conditioners at the stations.

  “Girl, we have got to update your hair.”

  I look up from the computer, startled. Ricky has come up behind me without my noticing, and is eyeing my long mane with a critical eye.

  I look down at my hair, fingering the tresses. I haven’t cut it in a year, and it looks, I’ll admit, pretty ragged and with more split-ends then I’d like to admit. “I guess a haircut was never one of my priorities in college,” I say defensively.

  “Oh, I’ve been there honey. But now you’ve got me in your corner, and we’re going to up your game. Are you into that?”

  I shrug. “Sure. I am your clay, and you are the sculptor. Go crazy.”

  I’ve been around Ricky enough to tell when he’s getting amped up. “Oh my god,” he says, rubbing his hands together, “this is going to be amazing. I’ve been wanting to work with your hair since the day I laid eyes on you.”

  He immediately starts running his hands through my hair. “We don’t have anything on the schedule for two hours, right?”

  I nod. “Right.”

  “You’ve never dyed it or done anything to it?”

  “Nope. It’s virgin.”

  “Oh, virgin is the best!” Ricky exclaims, and we both laugh at the cheap joke. “Let’s get you over to the sinks. I’m going to take you lighter. Full-on glam.”

  Two hours later, I hardly recognize myself. My hair is still really long, past my breasts, but Ricky has added in all of these beautiful layers that revive my natural waves. The balayage gives my hair dimension and makes my face look somehow more… radiant. My eyes look blu
er, my skin prettier. I feel like a movie star.

  Embarrassingly, as Ricky applies some styling spray, I start crying.

  “Oh my god, you hate it?” Ricky starts fussing with my hair, his brow furrowed with panicked concern.

  “No, I love it,” I blubber.

  Ricky gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Then what is it?”

  “I just… It just took me by surprise. I look nice.” I rub at my tears.

  “Honey, you look more than nice. You look fucking hot. Adam is a lucky guy.”

  I stare at Ricky. “Really?”

  “Yeah. You’re gorgeous. You know that, right?”

  “I didn’t know. For so long, I didn’t know.” I blow my nose into some tissue Ricky produces from seemingly out of thin air.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I just…you didn’t know me a few months ago. I don’t think you would have recognized me as a person.”

  Ricky looks at me silently for a long time. “I was addicted to heroin for a couple of years. You wouldn’t have recognized me then either.”

  “Oh my god, Ricky, I didn’t—”

  Ricky holds up a hand. “I’m not saying I’ve had it worse or anything, I don’t know what your story is, I’m just saying I get it. I’ve been to that place.”

  I nod, and he gives me one last tight hug. “These tears are exactly why I love to do hair. Because it’s more than just hair. It’s an identity. It’s confidence.”

  I nod in reverent agreement.

  “Now, go to the bathroom and clean yourself up. We’ve got clients.”

  I laugh weekly but do as he says. How did I end up with all of these bossy, wonderful men in my life?

  19

  Adam

  I’m waiting to have dinner with Kyle at one of her favorite restaurants when she walks in the door. At first I don’t recognize her because her hair is so different, and I mistake her for some utterly stunning stranger.

  Then I do a double take. Her hair has been transformed—she’s had it cut and colored, and she looks like a goddess or a movie star. I want to worship at her feet.

  I actually have to remember to close my mouth from the surprise as she approaches the table, a small coy smile on her face. I get up, folding her briefly into my arms before kissing her.

  “I didn’t even recognize you,” I murmur. “You can’t walk into a public place looking this beautiful. It makes me want to skip eating and take you home so that I can eat you instead.”

  She laughs, self-consciously toying with her hair a bit. “Do you like it?”

  “I fucking love it.” I run a hand through it, and it’s unbelievably silky. The different shades of caramel and honey blonde shimmer under the overhead lights of the restaurant. Just touching her hair makes me want to wrap it around my hand so that I can bend her over the nearest table and fuck her sweet pussy.

  I breathe in the scent of her, which is layered in with some new hair products she must have on.

  “Ricky did it,” she informs me, playing with the ends of her hair.

  “It looks stunning. You look stunning,” I tell her, and I mean it. She takes my breath away and makes me unbearably hard at the same time.

  Before we can talk more our waiter comes and tells us the specials. We order fresh mussels in a herbed sauce to start and Kyle orders a salmon fillet with a salad on the side. I order grilled chicken on a bed of grilled greens.

  Kyle tells me a little about some of the funny clients that came into the salon as we drink wine, both of us unwinding from the day.

  “She has the coolest hair now. Ricky died it this really pretty rose gold color.” She smiles to herself as she takes another sip of her wine.

  She’s carefree tonight, and so radiant that it’s almost hard for me to focus on what she’s saying. Her new highlighted hair is a soft cascade over her full breasts, which are only partially concealed by the low neckline of her dress. She’s breathtaking and so fucking sexy all at once.

  Our mussels come, and we both exclaim over the flavor. Kyle carefully sets the bread that came with it aside.

  “No bread?” I ask. “Isn’t today cheat meal day?”

  “I’d rather have dessert,” she says huskily, her eyes dropping to my lips.

  I laugh a deep belly laugh. “Where did you pick up these flirting skills?”

  She smirks, leaning back in her chair. “Hmm, I wonder who I could have picked them up from?”

  Her confidence is beyond sexy. When she walked through the room I could tell that every man was aware of it. She’s become a woman that’s impossible to ignore. Intelligent, independent, beautiful—and, privately, so sweetly obedient.

  She’s my match. I feel it more and more with every breath. I have to tell her.

  I’m not a man who gets nervous often. The last time I felt this way was when I dropped out of college to start my company. I worried that I was making a colossal mistake.

  Now I know that Kyle could never be a mistake—not when everything about her is so right. The only question has been when to tell her that I’ve fallen in love with her. When to tell her that I’ve been in love with her for a while now.

  We talk comfortably, laughing, until our entrees are cleared away. I order some chocolate mousse, and Kyle looks at me with surprise.

  “You said you wanted dessert.” I shrug, pouring her another glass of wine from the bottle.

  She laughs, her face lighting up. “You’re so bad.”

  “I am bad. But I think you love it.”

  “I do.” Her eyes get a little wider, a little softer.

  “And I love you.” It just pops out.

  “You—what?”

  “I love you.” I look at her evenly. I’ve said it, and I won’t take it back.

  The mousse is delivered to our table, but neither of us even notices. Kyle’s beautiful blue eyes are glassy, locked with mine.

  “I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” I continue, “maybe since the day I met you. And you don’t have to say anything. I know it’s soon and that I might be coming on a little strong, but I can’t hold back anymore, I—”

  “I love you too!” Her hand settles on top of mine across the table. “I’ve been in love with you.”

  A single tear tracks down her face, and I wipe it away as she smiles.

  “I’m glad. Will you stay? In my house, with me, with my rules?”

  “Yes,” Kyle says shakily. “Yes, but, I mean, if it’s too much, I’ll go. I have a job now, so I can get my own apartment, and we can date normally. I don’t want you to feel like I’m a burden, I would hate that, but I was just stressed that—”

  “Is this what’s been upsetting you these past few weeks?” I cut her off.

  She looks like a deer in the headlights. “Maybe?”

  “Maybe, or yes?”

  “Yes.” She bites her lip, and has the good sense to look ashamed.

  “How many times have I asked you directly to tell me what was wrong? I could have gotten rid of these silly ideas the moment they entered your head.”

  She looks down at the table, blushing prettily. Even when being chastised, she’s gorgeous.

  “I asked you a question, Kyle.”

  She looks up at me, startled. “Um, a few times.”

  “And how many times did you lie to me?”

  “A few times, sir,” she says quietly, so that no one else can hear.

  “Uh-huh. You’ve been bad. Very bad. Open your mouth.” I spoon up some of the chocolate mousse, and I feed it to her when she parts her lips obediently.

  “But you’re going to be a good girl tonight and let me punish you, aren’t you?”

  I can see the pleasure cross her features as the rich chocolate mousse slides over her tongue. She swallows, her throat working delicately before she licks her lips. I feel myself hardening in response, wishing I could take her here and now.

  She smiles at me brazenly. “Yes, sir.”

  When we get home I tell her to wait
for me in the living room. I’m firm with her, and I can tell by the look of aroused apprehension on her face that she knows what’s coming.

  I go into the bedroom and light up all the candles. She’s going to be punished because she went against my rules, but my heart is also full of love for her, so this is going to be a different kind of punishment. A sensual punishment; one where I possess her completely.

  I have her heart.

  There’s one last thing I want from her.

  I get out my box of toys from the closet and retrieve some lube and some other things I will need. Finally I take some pillows and stack them up in the center of the bed.

  I take stock of the room. The candles flicker softly, creating a warm, sexual atmosphere. But the scene is edged by the toys I have laid out. I smile. My pet will know what’s going to happen the moment she walks into the room.

  I return to the living room and take Kyle’s hand. She looks up at me nervously.

  “Come along, pet. You need to be punished for being a bad girl.”

  Her eyes are wide with fear and helpless arousal. “Are you going to spank me again?”

  I shake my head, even as a cruel smile shapes my lips. “No. Well, maybe a little.”

  She tilts her head to the side. “Whip me? Make me work out again?”

  “No and no.”

  “Will it hurt?”

  “Probably.” I won’t lie.

  I hear her breathing stutter as her eyes darken, her fear shining clearly in their depths.

  It makes me so hard, to know that she’s nervous about her punishment. The control is like ambrosia to me. Her trust is a gift that I will never abuse.

  I open up the bedroom door, and Kyle’s lips part in surprise as she takes in the candles. “Adam, this is beautiful, you…”

  She trails off as her eyes land on the but plug and vibrator that are set out beside the pillows on the bed. She bites her lip as her eyes slide to mine, her expression tense.

  “I…I don’t know if I can do that.” She looks up at me, biting her lower lip uncertainly.

 

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