She answered with a cocky smirk.
“You might be a sorry little girl if you get too much of what you’re asking for.”
Oh fuck. A rush of heat pooled in her pussy, making her knees almost buckle. She pictured it—spread out on a bed, legs wide, Ambrose between them, making her scream for mercy.
She realized she’d frozen with her clippers in midair, staring at their reflection. After setting the clippers down, she cleared her throat. “You don’t believe in playing nice?”
“I can when I want to. But there are times when I don’t want to be nice. Are you the kind of sub who needs a mean Dom to make you into a good girl?”
“I’m the kind of girl who likes a Dom to have a sense of humor.”
He arched a brow.
Reluctantly, she added, “And to sometimes . . . convince me to be good. Once in a while. When the mood strikes me.” She gave him a sidelong glance.
“Cocky little thing,” he muttered, shifting in his seat again.
She wondered what he kept having to shift down there. But he wasn’t rolling his eyes or sighing at her teasing. Maybe he wasn’t like the others. She wished there was a tactful, smooth way to ask if he wanted to play.
“You’re going tonight?” he asked, rubbing his clean-shaven chin.
She nodded.
“Maybe I’ll go too. We could talk more. If you want.”
A small, giddy smile pushed through her mask of confidence. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” She realized she sounded like a parrot and gave her head a shake. Way to look like a smitten idiot. “I mean, I’m done. What do you think?”
“Sweet.” He turned his head this way and that, but he was looking at her, not his hair.
“How much do I owe you?” he asked while she unclipped the cape.
“Twenty-five.”
He fiddled with his wallet while she brushed off his neck. Frowning, he looked up at her. “Do you have change?”
“Not much. It’s early still.”
“Okay.” He handed her two twenties.
“Oh. Umm.”
“Just keep it.”
“No, I can’t. It’s too much.”
He waved his hand. “Buy me a drink tonight and we’ll call it even.”
That seemed fair. “All right.”
“Good girl.” He winked.
Bastard. Damn, he was hot. She placed a hand on her hip and glared, trying not to crack a smile. He rose from the chair, reminding her of his size. Hot in a thuggish, terrifying way.
“Ooooh,” he said, pretending to be scared. “Evil eye. You sure you’re not a switch?”