“More tattoos? Oh, I don’t know. Joey. I haven’t even finished getting my first tattoo yet!” he says, laughing. I stay focused, but almost chuckle along with him. “That’s a thing that happens, right? You get one tattoo, and then you want a bunch more tattoos. Matty’s that way. But I don’t know. I guess if I did get more tattoos, I’d get those flowers.”
His muscles have loosened again, and as I gently hold his arm in place, I can work more easily. “It will be easy to add to this, if you ever decide to,” I tell him, then add, “Make sure to breathe.”
Milo pulls in a ragged breath, then lets it out slowly. “I guess maybe I will. Get more tattoos, that is. Not breathe. Well, that, too. I don’t have the money for more work, though, so I won’t consider it for a while. And there’s two more sessions for this one, right?”
I nod, then wipe away the ink on his arm. His skin is flushed and the tattoo risen, and I can feel the heat coming off of him. “We could push and finish this in one more session, but two is no problem.”
He glances down, his eyes lingering over the purples and greens that I’ve added to define the shape of the prairie flower. “I feel like I could sit here all day.” He lets out a slow breath again, and I fight back the urge to lay my hand on his side, right above his hipbone. “It hurts, but it’s like I’m used to it.”
“Sounds right.”
Milo hums softly under his breath. “Maybe I will do a long session. I’m kind of excited to see how it turns out.”
I grunt my agreement. I’m not sure why I’m encouraging him to get more tattoos or mentioning the kind of long session I’d normally only offer a dedicated client. Except, after a few months of working in the shop and years of amateur tattooing before that, I can’t think of anyone I’ve enjoyed working on as much as Milo.
The flower I’m inking onto his tanned, golden skin is one of the best pieces I’ve ever created. The image flows through me, appearing effortlessly on him. Tattooing has always been satisfying work, but his is another level.
I finish a line and realize I’ve found the perfect place to break. Pausing just long enough to take one last inhale of his scent, like cinnamon and oranges, I finally pull my hands away. “Let’s get you on the calendar,” I say, then hand him the small mirror. “We’ll stop here today.”
Milo cranes his neck and twists as he checks out the tattoo in the hand mirror. The delighted look on his face warms me to the core. It’s totally rewarding to play a part in making him that happy, and I let myself enjoy it for just a minute.
We finish up the session, and I wrap the tattoo as I remind Milo of how to care for it, even though he’s blurted out the care instructions a couple of times already. I keep it all professional, my face straight and my eyes on the work, even though in truth, it sucks to see him leaving.
I fucking never feel relaxed and warm and happy like I just did for the past couple hours.
Once Milo is out the door, I realize the rest of the shop is already empty, so I flip the locks and rush upstairs. There’s been heat pooling at the base of me since he walked in and a burning need for release that I can’t ignore. I kick the door to the apartment shut behind me, then spit in my hand.
“Fucking hell,” I grunt. I push my pants open and down, then wrap my fist around my hard cock. The relief of touching myself makes me groan, and finally, I let my guard down enough that my thoughts slip from tempted into straight-up pornographic.
It feels so good when Milo trembles in my hands. His short, needy breath and the twitches in his muscles. I want to drag my mouth all over him until he makes those same noises, and slide my hand down his hips, and feel the curve of his ass.
I think about licking his hole and thrusting my cock between his pretty lips while he moans my name. I’ve never hooked up with a guy like Milo, gentle and sweet, and I wonder what it would be like to push my body against his and feel the give when my fingers sink into his soft flesh.
My cock pulses with raw heat, and I spit in my hand again, then jerk loosely from my base. When I fall back against the couch, I bit down hard on my bottom lip and wonder if Milo would ever bite me like that, too.
With another thrust of my hips, I give in to the totally fantasy of it. I think about stretching his tight hole with my cock and pumping into the deepest part of him. With a loud grunt, I spray my load, shooting into my hand and rubbing my slick release across my crown.
“Fuck,” I gasp. My muscles are all loose, and my head’s dizzy. There’s a rush of hormones floating through me, but I shake my head to force it all away.
Fantasies might be fun for a little release, but I have work to do, so I push that all out of mind, wash myself up, and then head downstairs to clean the shop for tomorrow.
CHAPTERSIX
MILO
“Hey,do you mind if we stop by Blade on the way home?” Matty asks me. We’re standing in the park with Ayla, keeping our hands warm on paper cups of hot coffee and watching as some kids sled down the hill and then run back up it again. It’s one of those winter days that are snowy, but also bright and almost warm.
“The tattoo shop?”
Ayla rolls her eyes. “You’ve been talking about your tattoo all week. Now you’re forgetting the name of the shop?”
I wrinkle my nose. “Not all week, have I?”
She laughs and bumps her shoulder against mine. “It’s allowed. You got your first tattoo!”
I grin. It’s true, I totally love my ink. It’s not even finished, but having the flowers there, curving around my arm with a splash of green and purple, it feels good. It fits me in a way I didn’t expect, and I lay my hand on the spot while we talk.
“I just have to drop off the spare key to Stone. He locked his in his truck when he got to work. Is that okay?”
