Ignoring his compliment, I turn abruptly, forcing his hand to fall away.
“Thank you,” I say to Megan. “And would you give this to Jamie and tell him thanks?” I push a twenty-pound note into her hand.
“Of course.” Megan smiles.
Moving away, I brush past Liam, leaving the salon.
“Hey”—Liam catches my arm as I’ve just exited the salon—“what’s wrong?”
I spin around to face him, a frown on my face. “You paid for my hair.” My tone is accusing.
Wariness enters his eyes. “I did.”
“And why did you do that?”
“Because I can.”
“Because you can.” I grit my teeth.
I am mad about the money, but really, I’m pissier about Megan. It’s stupid, I know, but it is what it is.
And his superior attitude is annoying me even more.
So, he’s going to get it about the money and not about the fact that he took me to his fuck buddy’s hair salon.
“I can pay for my own hair, thank you very much. I’m not a fucking charity case.”
He frowns, his dark brows drawing together. “I know you’re not a charity case. I just thought it would be a nice thing to do.”
“Well, I don’t want your nice.” I turn from him and start walking again.
He stops me and stands in front of me. Refusing to look at him, I stare past him.
“Is there something else going on here?” he asks.
“No.” Yes.
“So, you’re just mad because I paid for your hair?”
I grind my teeth together and bring my eyes to his. “Yes. I don’t like people to pay for me. I pay my own way in this world.”
“Okay.” He blows out a breath, the look in his eyes contrite.
And then, suddenly, I feel like a total bitch.
“I’m sorry I paid for your hair without consulting you first. I wasn’t trying to be a dick. I just wanted to treat you. A welcome-to-England kind of thing.”
“You welcomed me to England just fine last night with your tongue.”
That’s my lame way of trying to defuse the situation I just created. It’s a crappy attempt. But it makes him laugh, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. The sound eases my guilt a little.
“Yeah. That was definitely a good way to welcome you to my country.”
I smile, unable not to.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is low, and it touches me deep inside.
Liam lifts a hand to my head and wraps a lock of my new pink hair around his finger. “Your hair looks really sexy. I can’t wait to see it spread out all over my pillow.” He steps close, pressing his chest to mine.
And, just like that, he has me.
I stare up into his eyes. “I think we can arrange that.”
He drives his fingers into my hair, gripping it, and tips my head back. “I’m going to wrap your sexy pink hair around my fist and pull it hard while I fuck you from behind.”
I swallow down. “I-I…think I can live with that.” My voice trembles with a sudden need. A need for him.
He brings his mouth down to mine and kisses me deeply, slowly, his tongue sweeping over mine.
It’s a knee-buckling kiss. I have to grip his arms, so I don’t fall over.
“So, am I allowed to take you for dinner before I take you back to my place to fuck you?” he murmurs against my lips. “Show that pretty hair off that I got into trouble for paying for.”
My eyes flutter. “I could eat,” I say, still feeling breathless from his kiss. “But I’m paying for dinner.”
He tips his head back. “You are not paying for my dinner.” He looks appalled at the idea.
I let out a sigh. “Okay, Caveman, how about we go dutch?”
“How about I pay for it all, and you can just like it?”
“How about I don’t? You wanna pull my hair while you fuck me from behind? Then, I’m buying dinner.”
He laughs low and deep. “Fine. I won’t pull your hair. I’ll just fuck you the old-fashioned way and still buy you dinner.”
“Ugh,” I grumble. “You’re impossible.”
“I’m not impossible.” He chuckles. “I just know what I want. Okay, how about this? I’ll buy you dinner, and you can pay me back in sexual favors when we get back to my place.”
“Um, you want me to hooker myself out for dinner?” I glare at him.
A salacious look crosses his face, his lips tipping up into a grin. “I have always wanted to fuck a hooker.”
“You ass!” I slap his chest with my hand.
Chuckling, he wraps his arms around me and presses his nose to mine, staring into my eyes. “I’m not an ass. I’m hot. And you want me bad.”
“That’s debatable since you just called me a hooker.”
“I didn’t call you a hooker.” He frowns.
“You asked me to pay for my dinner by giving you sexual favors.”
“Ah, now, you’re just twisting my words all up. I said I’d always wanted to fuck a hooker—”
“Not making me feel better.”