by L. A. Witt
Holy shit.
Lucas met Nate’s gaze, and they stared at each other for a moment.
You thinking what I’m thinking?
Don’t know—what are you thinking?
Nate shifted as surreptitiously as he could. They both cleared their throats. The silence was taut and uncomfortable and fucking loaded with all kinds of suggestions just waiting to be made.
Swallowing hard, Lucas uncapped the marker. “I should, uh . . . keep tracing this.”
“Right. Good idea.”
They made eye contact once more.
Then Lucas’s hand was on his arm. The pen was against the plastic.
He kept tracing.
And Nate’s sanity kept hanging by a very rapidly fraying thread.
Chapter 4
This was stupid. Lucas had done plastic tracing a million times before, so why was it just this time that he realized the cellophane felt a little like latex? That it separated his skin from Nate’s as much as a condom would?
Every damn day at this job, he had his hands on all kinds of people. Plenty of them were hot enough that if they’d waggled an eyebrow at him, he’d have happily met them out behind the building or . . . well, basically anywhere they could get away with fooling around. In fact, he had hooked up with a few. Disastrously, of course, because he was fucking cursed, but the point was, he’d tattooed people and then fucked them, and he’d still been able to concentrate completely on his work until it was done.
But now he couldn’t keep his head in the game while doing a simple tracing. Especially not after Nate had caught him staring. He was lucky the guy hadn’t torn off the plastic and stormed out, muttering about finding a more professional artist.
Except . . . that look Nate had given him hadn’t telegraphed offense or anything like that. Quite the opposite, in fact. Almost like he’d been the one caught staring.
Wishful thinking. Let it go.
Fuck, I really, really need to get laid, don’t I?
It wasn’t like he hadn’t had sex in a while. In fact, he’d been having quite a bit of it recently, thanks to a couple of hookup apps.
The problem? It had all been so fucking terrible. He’d apparently pissed off some god of sex, and as a result, he’d been cursed. He hadn’t been a virgin since he was fifteen, had his first threesome before he’d had his first beer, and had once woken up naked in an A-list rock star’s tour bus, but somehow in the last six months, he’d had to fake a goddamned orgasm. Twice.
Then there was the woman who couldn’t give a blow job without generously involving her teeth. Followed by the guy who’d had more to drink than he’d let on, deep-throated Lucas a bit too enthusiastically, and . . . well, the less said about that, the better.
To top it off, there was the very promising threesome with a hot pair of newlyweds, which had been fun for about fifteen minutes. Then she’d decided she didn’t like her husband sucking dick, even though that was why she’d wanted the threesome in the first place, and the husband decided to fly into a jealous rage over another man touching his wife.
Lucas couldn’t even blame it on the other people every time. Despite being exhausted to the point of nearly hallucinating one night, he’d gone out with some friends, wound up making out with a beautiful redhead, and gone back to her apartment with her. Surprise, surprise—tired as he was, he couldn’t get it up. At least he got her off a couple of times, so it wasn’t a complete bust for her, but still. . . .
And now? Now he had his hands on an insanely hot, freshly divorced, ridiculously fit, and obviously queer shirtless man, and he had to be a freaking professional. Not. Fair.
Yep. Definitely cursed.
Tattoo. Focus on the tattoo.
“This definitely isn’t going to be easy to cover,” he said. “Just FYI.”
“Because it’s so dark?”
“And with a lot of detail. But I’m also guessing you haven’t had it very long?”
“Little over two years now, I think.”
Lucas nodded, pursing his lips. “Explains why it hasn’t faded much. The colors are still pretty vivid, so it’ll be tougher.” He sat back and glanced up at Nate. “I’ll do what I can, but you may want to at least consider getting it lasered.”
“I thought the lasers couldn’t remove it all.”
“There’s usually some discoloration left.” Lucas stretched his neck, then leaned in to keep working. “But that’s easy to ink over.”
Nate sighed. “Damn. I was hoping to just have a new tattoo in place. I think the only thing worse than looking at this would be looking at a half-charred artifact of it.” He groaned. “Ugh. Well, whatever it takes—I just can’t look at it anymore.”
“That happens sometimes.” Lucas paused to carefully trace a particularly thin line. “Could be worse, though. Honestly, one of the reasons I got really good at cover-ups was because I was stupid enough to tattoo both my ex-wives’ names on myself.”
“Both?” Nate turned to him, eyebrows up. “How old are you?”
Lucas chuckled, heat rushing into his cheeks, and concentrated on the tracing so he didn’t have to look at Nate’s incredulous expression. “Twenty-seven.”
“Wow. And you’ve been married twice?”
“Yep. Not for very long in either case, but . . . yep.” And suddenly Lucas realized he may as well have tattooed I’M STRAIGHT across his forehead. He didn’t think he had much of a shot with Nate, but why slam the door shut and kill any chances? So he added, “At least I didn’t get my last boyfriend’s name. I don’t think there’s enough ink in the world to cover up that asshole.”
No response, but when Lucas glanced up, Nate was watching him. “Your last boyfriend?”
Lucas nodded, shifting his gaze downward again. “Yeah. I go both ways.”
“Oh. Gotcha.”
It was hard for Lucas to tell if the door was still open. Or if it had ever been open. He had no idea if Nate was remotely attracted to him, and even if he was, some guys really didn’t like men who were bi. If Nate had any issue with it, he had a damn good poker face. Then again, his best friend was dating Matt and probably wouldn’t take too kindly to Nate bashing his bisexual boyfriend or guys like him. Of course, he might also be okay with other people dating bi men, but not for—
“Lucas?”
“Hmm? What?”
Nate cocked his head. “You spaced out.”
“Oh, um . . .” Lucas’s face burned for the fiftieth time since Nate had arrived, and he gestured at the tattoo. “I was just trying to think if I can do anything with some of these thicker lines. Incorporate them into the new design, like I said.” Good save, Lucas. Good save.
Nate gave a quiet, dry laugh. “Maybe while you’re at it, I should have you put a big black X on my ring finger.” He held up his left hand; there was still a pale tan line on his third finger. “To remind myself not to get married again.”
Lucas chuckled. “Not racing down the aisle any time soon?”
“God no. I think I’m done with that crap for a while.” Nate blew out a breath. “Been with the same man for a fucking decade. Don’t even know where to start.” He gestured at his arm. “Aside from covering that stupid thing up.”
“Well, I can definitely help.”
Their eyes locked, and Lucas was instantly mortified.
“With . . .” He pointed his pen at the tattoo. “That part.”
“I know what you meant. And I appreciate it.” Nate’s smile made Lucas reconsider which part he was volunteering for. If the guy needed a hand or something with getting over his ex, Lucas was pretty sure he could persuade himself to help out.
He was getting a crick in his neck, so he sat back, simultaneously stretching his stiff neck and scrutinizing his handiwork.
“So you know what it’s like, then,” Nate mused. “Thinking you’re going to be with someone forever. Like”—he pointed at his ink—“forever. And then not.”
“Oh yeah. And I’m guessing it wasn’t a friendly br
eakup.”
“God, no. I kicked him out back in January, after I caught him with another guy.”
Lucas cringed. “Ouch.”
“Yeah. Fucker.” Nate reached up to scratch the back of his neck, then sighed as he let his hand drop into his lap. “My buddies keep telling me I should get out there and start dating again, but . . . I don’t know. It’s been so long since I’ve been single, I don’t even know what to do with myself.”
I could think of a few things I could do with you. . . .
Lucas cleared his throat, cheeks burning.
“Maybe I just need to play the field.”
The words made Lucas’s heart speed up. When he realized Nate was looking right at him, he gulped. “Playing . . . playing the field’s how I got over my divorces.”
“Oh yeah? How’d that work?”
“Like a charm.” Lucas willed his voice to stay steady despite his sudden nerves. “Kind of hard to pine for someone when you’re busy making someone else come.”
Nate shivered. Hard. When their eyes met again, the gleam in Nate’s bordered on predatory. Someone who could eat him alive given half a chance.
Bring it on, Lucas wanted to say. Maybe Nate would be the magic charm to break the curse on Lucas’s sex life.
Lucas swept his tongue across his lips. “Even just one night with someone can do a lot to exorcise someone else. I mean, it worked for me. Your mileage may vary.”
“I’ve never really been one for hookups. You’re starting to sell me on the idea, though.”
“Oh really?” Lucas realized a second too late that he’d sounded way too hopeful. He quickly added, “I mean, it’s . . . I’m glad you’re . . .” Since when did he have this much trouble talking? He focused extra hard on the stripe he was tracing. “There’s plenty of apps these days. Easier than ever to hook up with people.”
“Just my luck,” Nate said dryly.
Lucas didn’t know what to say to that. Thank God, though, he was just about done with the design. A few more strokes of the marker, and he had a fully traced tiger. “Okay. We’re done.” He capped the pen as he rose. “Let me take off the plastic, and you’ll be good to go for the night.”
“Great.” Nate smiled, but it seemed forced somehow.
Lucas carefully peeled off the tape, then the plastic. “Okay. You’re all set.”
“Sweet.” Nate rubbed a hand over the tattoo, which was probably a little sweaty at this point. “So, what next?”
“Next, we get you a design. Which means we should figure out what you want.”
Nate opened his mouth to speak but quickly snapped his teeth shut. Avoiding Lucas’s eyes, he blushed hard.
“Something wrong?” Lucas asked.
“No. No, I just realized I was about to put my foot in my mouth.”
“Oh yeah?”
Nate looked at him. Lucas raised his eyebrows, silently daring him to elaborate. After a moment, Nate cleared his throat and cut his eyes away. “I, um . . .”
“Hmm?”
“Look, I’ve been out of the game for a long time. Haven’t even looked at anyone in . . .” Nate shook his head. Then he met Lucas’s gaze and held it, that gleam even more intense than before. “To cut to the chase, I really want to kiss you right now.”
Lucas blinked. “What?”
“I . . .” Nate sighed, breaking eye contact. “A few months ago, I caught my husband in bed with another man, and I haven’t wanted to touch anyone since then. I just . . . I haven’t felt it, you know? And to be honest, it probably started long before that, because things were going south with him. Our sex life went off a cliff a good year ago, and my libido went with it, and I was pretty sure it was going to stay that way.” He hesitated, then with what seemed like some serious effort, looked Lucas in the eye again. “But then I walked in here tonight, and . . .” He gestured at Lucas. “And you.”
“Oh.” Lucas gulped. He glanced at the doorway. Colin was gone. Pete’s tattoo needle was buzzing. Jon and Matt had left. There was no one to interrupt them. No one to bust Lucas feeling up this insanely hot man, who was apparently totally open to the idea.
“I’m sorry.” Nate shook his head. “I’m . . . it’s been so long since I—”
Lucas grabbed the back of Nate’s neck, pulled him in, and kissed him.
Nate didn’t miss a beat. Their lips had barely touched before Nate’s arm was firmly around Lucas’s waist, and just like that, the two of them were locked in a tight embrace and the deepest, hottest kiss Lucas thought he’d ever experienced. Maybe Nate had been out of the game for a while, but he had no shortage of confidence when it came to teasing Lucas’s lips apart and sliding his tongue right alongside Lucas’s.
Fuck yes. Lucas had been struggling to hide varying degrees of an erection ever since Nate showed up. Now he was at full attention and not hiding it at all.
And it didn’t hurt that Nate hadn’t put his shirt back on yet, and everywhere Lucas put his hands, he found smooth, hot skin. Except then he’d brush Nate’s waistband and remember how much skin wasn’t bared, and goddammit why did they have to be at the shop where he couldn’t tell Nate to drop trou?
“Jesus . . .” Nate pressed his forehead against Lucas’s. He was out of breath—shaking, even—and whispered, “Oh my God, I want you.”
“Likewise.” Something tightened in Lucas’s gut, though, and he drew back. “What exactly is it you’re after?” He shifted uncomfortably. “Like a rebound thing? Playing the field, like you said?”
“To put it bluntly?” Nate swallowed, combing his finger through Lucas’s hair as if he knew that was something Lucas loved. “I just want to fuck.”
Now that was a language Lucas understood.
He tightened his grip on Nate’s neck and kissed him again. Nate’s hands slid down over Lucas’s ass and squeezed, not just kneading the muscles, but pulling him in close so he could feel that thick hard-on.
This was all in his mind, wasn’t it? In a minute, he’d blink, come back to reality, and find some way to explain away his blushing and his hard-on to the client who was probably standing there wondering what the hell Lucas was on.
Except he didn’t usually fantasize about making out with a guy wearing pants. If this were a fantasy, those jeans and anything under them would be long gone, and Lucas would have a dick down his throat by now. He also didn’t tend to imagine someone running a hand through his hair and tugging enough to sting. Though he’d probably start, because shit that was hot.
Outside the room, Pete’s tattoo needle stopped buzzing. Voices murmured, and Lucas jerked away from Nate.
“We . . . can’t do this. Not here.”
“When are you off work?” Nate asked.
“I’m . . .”
If you need to cut out early or anything, just say so, okay?
Did it make him a bad apprentice to take Colin up on the offer for reasons besides licking his wounded ego? Like, to lick something else?
Maybe it did, maybe it didn’t, but he was absolutely gonna.
“My boss says I can cut out early,” he panted. “Tell me where to meet you, and as soon as I get out of here, I’ll be there.”
Nate licked his lips. “My place work?”
“As long as it’s not very far.” Lucas grinned. “Not sure I can wait that long, you know?”
“Tell me about it.” Nate’s hands slid down over Lucas’s ass. “I’m close to Oceana. So yeah, not far from here.”
“Good. Give me . . .” Colin had told him he could cut out early, right? He hadn’t imagined that? And did it count if he was blowing off work to, well, blow a client? Lucas cleared his throat. “Half an hour? Maybe forty-five?”
Nate gave Lucas’s ass a squeeze. “Sounds good to me.” He glanced toward the doorway and sobered. “I should get out of here. So you don’t get in trouble.”
Lucas was tempted to mention that his coworker and one of his bosses would be hardcore hypocrites to give him shit for hooking up with a client, but maybe
feeling each other up right here in the shop was pushing it. Although for all he knew, those guys had fucked in here. They weren’t apprentices, though, and he didn’t need a reputation around the ink community. Not that reputation, anyway.
Clearing his throat, he drew back. “Okay. Give me your address.” He fished a card out of his back pocket and handed it over along with a pen. “I’ll be there ASAP.”
Nate glanced at the card, then nodded. He picked up his shirt, and Lucas left the room to give the appearance of professionalism. Or something. More like just to catch his breath and get his feet under him.
His hands shook as he put the sketch on the copier. There was no point in trying to work on it now, but he could at least make a few paper copies so he had something to sketch on tomorrow. Pushing the button on the copier was about all he was good for at the moment.
Well, that and programming his GPS. And driving. And fucking.
Nate stepped out into the shop, and their eyes met. He grinned. So did Lucas.
Then Nate left, and Lucas willed his heart to slow down. They were doing this. He was hooking up with a man who could kiss like that.
Please, God, let the curse be broken tonight.
The door swung shut behind Nate. Lucas exhaled. All he had to do was take Colin up on his offer to let him go early and get the hell out of here.
And hope like hell this wasn’t yet another sexual disaster.
Chapter 5
As he walked out to the parking lot, Nate’s skin tingled. Hell, his whole body tingled. Having Lucas’s hands on him had ignited things that had been dead and cold for months, and nothing showed any signs of cooling off or calming down.
He let himself into his car, and as he started the engine, he glanced at the shop again. Had it really just been an hour or so since he’d walked in here with Jon, feeling sorry for himself and ready to get rid of his tattoo? And now . . . this?
Hello there, sex drive. Good to have you back.
Nate grinned as he pulled out of the parking space and headed home.