by L. A. Witt
Lucas’s breath hitched. He clenched hard around Nate’s dick, and his nails bit into Nate’s shoulders, and then he jerked. Again. Wet heat pooled between them, and Nate couldn’t hold back anymore. He forced himself in, deep and hard, knocking the breath out of Lucas and a violent squeak out of the bed frame, and lost it.
Together, they exhaled, and as Lucas relaxed onto the mattress, Nate relaxed on top of him. Eyes closed, Nate kissed Lucas’s neck, and he just held on for a while. He carefully kept his weight off enough that Lucas could still breathe, but that was about all he could ask of his arms and shoulders right then. All his bones had turned to liquid. His mind was completely blank except for the warmth and sweat and closeness of their trembling embrace.
Lucas stroked Nate’s hair with a shaky hand, but neither of them said anything. Just like out on the beach, they were silent.
Eventually Nate was able to lift himself up enough to pull out, and he rested on his forearms as he gazed down at Lucas. Satisfied, sleepy, disheveled Lucas.
And just like on the beach, Nate couldn’t pretend he didn’t have feelings for him. Feelings that went way beyond the things they did to each other in bed. It made sense, though. Lying like this, staring into those beautiful eyes, he wasn’t surprised he was falling for Lucas.
If anything, he was surprised it had taken him this long to realize it.
* * *
Lucas fell asleep with his head on Nate’s shoulder. That wasn’t unusual, and sooner or later, they’d roll apart so they didn’t get too hot. For now, though, Nate savored it.
Gazing up at the ceiling of the unfamiliar room, he stroked Lucas’s hair in the darkness. If someone had told him a year ago he’d be falling hard for a tattooist almost a decade his junior, he’d have laughed. That or decked them for implying his marriage wasn’t going to last.
Now . . . shit. It made such perfect sense to be here with Lucas and to feel this way about him, he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
What are we doing?
He didn’t know the answer to that, but he was pretty sure he knew what they weren’t doing. Whatever this was, it went a hell of a lot closer to the bone than sex or friendship.
Nate swallowed. He had no idea if he was ready for anything, but this felt as inevitable as an aircraft-carrier landing. It was terrifying, and there was nothing easy about it, but it was happening. The only other options were landing in the water—also known as crashing—or flying around until they ran out of fuel and then landing in the water.
Of course, things weren’t quite as life-or-death with Lucas, but it did remind him of that feeling when he and Jon had a visual on the ship. There it was. There they went. Heart pounding, palms sweating, head full of worst-case scenarios while he trusted someone else to put them down safely as they descended straight toward that tiny stretch of white-striped nonskid bouncing on the ocean.
And him and Lucas . . . well, here they went. Ready or not, there was the ship.
He didn’t know who was at the controls. Or if anyone was.
He just hoped like hell they didn’t crash.
Chapter 16
The next morning, Lucas’s hips didn’t feel like they were connected to his body the right way anymore, but he made it down the stairs to breakfast without breaking his neck. Good thing he and Nate were planning on taking it easy today—the thought of doing anything more acrobatic than walking on the beach just made his body ache even more.
This was one of those B and Bs where everyone ate at the same table, so they joined two other couples and their hosts. He and Nate had already met one of the couples—a pair of retirees who were closer to the ages of the host and hostess.
The other couple hadn’t been here yesterday, and they sat near Nate and Lucas. They were newlyweds probably not much older than Lucas had been when he’d come here on his honeymoon. The wife, Ginny, had thick-framed glasses and half-bleached dreadlocks, and her husband, Ethan, had a long blond ponytail. On his forearm, beneath thin near-white arm hair, he had a tattoo that had clearly not been applied by someone who knew what they were doing. The lines were blown, obscuring any detail that might’ve been in the original design, and the shading was horribly uneven. Lucas couldn’t even make out what it was supposed to be.
Of course, Lucas didn’t say a word or make a face. For one thing, it would be rude. But he also knew that sometimes the amateurish designs had sentimental value that negated any issues with the craftsmanship. Mostly he didn’t want to be a dick. Nothing like introducing himself to a stranger by offering to cover up his awful tattoo. So he just wouldn’t comment on it at all.
But apparently the topic of tattoos wasn’t one he could avoid today. As their hostess poured coffee for everyone, Ginny gestured at Lucas’s sleeve. “That’s some nice ink.”
He smiled. “Thanks.”
“Wow,” her husband said. “Who did your work?”
“Different people, but I did a lot of it myself.”
Ethan’s eyes bugged out. “Really? You’re a tattoo artist?”
Lucas nodded.
“Wow, awesome! I’m working on becoming an artist, too.” Ethan beamed as he pointed at the tattoo on his arm. “Mostly doing friends and myself right now. And her.” He nodded toward his wife.
Lucas’s mouth dried around a bite of eggs. Your wife lets you tattoo her? Oh God.
“I’m building up my client base right now so I can go pro,” Ethan went on. “Can’t wait to ditch the day job and do this full-time.”
Good luck with that. Lucas barely swallowed the eggs without gagging, and he forced a smile. “Awesome. I’m about halfway through my apprenticeship right now.”
Ethan glanced at Lucas’s ink again and sputtered, “You’re an apprentice?”
“Well yeah.” Lucas shrugged. “Have to start somewhere. I mean, my last mentor got me started with actually doing tattoos, but when he retired, I wasn’t ready to go out on my own. Gotta get my name out there and pick up some practical experience.” And build up my stupidly fragile confidence.
Ethan scowled. “Don’t they usually make apprentices do all the bitch work, though? Kind of seems like hazing to me.”
“Well, the guy I’m apprenticing under isn’t charging me, doesn’t make me work for free, and basically lets me operate like I’m one of the full-time artists.” Lucas sliced off a piece of fried egg with his fork. “Plus they’re all helping me a ton with my technique. So taking out the trash and mopping the floors doesn’t seem like too much to ask.”
“Still . . .” Ethan wrinkled his nose. “I don’t want to be someone’s bitch.”
Lucas gritted his teeth, trying not to roll his eyes. “All part of making it in this field.”
“Wait,” his wife said. “The guy doesn’t charge you? Is that . . . unusual? I mean, do apprentices have to pay to work?”
“Yeah. Usually if you’re apprenticing, you’re either paying the guy, or you’re just working for free. And a lot of apprentices have never actually done any tattooing yet. That’s how you get started though, you know? I’d learned from a friend and from my last mentor, and I had a pretty solid portfolio by the time I went to work for the place I’m at now, but I wanted to spend some time under a mentor while I learned some of the finer points.”
“Seems like you already knew most of the finer points.” Nate gestured at him and said to the couple, “This guy’s portfolio is incredible.”
Ginny nodded toward Nate. “Did he do yours?”
Nate glanced at his arm and shook his head. “No. But I’ll probably have him do my next one.” Lucas didn’t mind the vague answer or the fact that Nate didn’t mention covering up the tiger. That would open up a whole different can of conversation worms, and he didn’t imagine Nate needed that.
“So, you’re not even really an apprentice,” Ginny said to Lucas. “You already know what you’re doing.”
Lucas’s cheeks warmed. He still felt kind of stupid for keeping the training wheels on as long as he had,
but after the blow his confidence had taken a couple of months ago, he still wasn’t convinced he didn’t need a mentor. “Well, the guy I’m working under right now is one of the best in the region. His work is just . . . it’s amazing. So I’m not going to say no to having him as a mentor for as long as I can.”
Ethan snorted indignantly as he smeared some butter on a piece of toast. “To each their own, but I’m not going to be someone’s bitch or gofer. That isn’t why I became an artist.”
Lucas again struggled not to roll his eyes. He’d been a cocky son of a bitch when he’d first started tattooing, but at least he’d been aware of his own limitations and the fact that he was just starting out.
He glanced at the godawful tattoo on Ethan’s forearm. He really, really tried not to look down his nose at beginners, but there were definitely people who didn’t have the chops for this,—or at the very least, needed to spend some serious time as an apprentice. It was impossible to say if Ethan was a talented artist who just hadn’t figured out how to tattoo properly, or if he was one of those guys who couldn’t even hack it on paper. Either way, it usually took a few dozen unsuspecting clients with horrible tattoos for them to realize they might be in the wrong line of work. Lucas may have botched one tattoo, but he had enough in his portfolio to prove he usually got it right.
In fact, it was artists like Ethan who made sure cover-up specialists like Lucas were in high demand.
“Well.” He forced a smile and tried not to sound like a dick. “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Ethan wasn’t quite as careful about keeping the sarcasm out of his voice or his smirk-bordering-on-sneer. “Good luck with your apprenticeship.”
* * *
“You know,” Nate said as they packed up their bags after breakfast, “I never realized just how much of a hothead you’re not until I watched you talking to that guy.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I was grinding my teeth to dust and fighting the urge to lob something at his head for being a condescending prick, but you . . .” Nate shook his head. “You stayed polite.”
“Don’t have much choice, honestly.” Lucas shrugged. “Tattooing is a small industry. I can’t afford for someone to start spreading rumors that I’m a jackass to new guys.”
“Well, this is why you’re an artist and I’m an aviator.” Nate grinned as he wrapped his arms around Lucas’s waist. “You’ve got a cool head and I don’t.”
“What?” Lucas pulled him closer. “I’ve never seen you blow a gasket.”
“Eh, I’ve mellowed a bit in my old age. But if that asshole had been an Air Force pilot who wanted to have a dick-swinging contest? I might’ve gotten a bit heated.”
Lucas laughed. “Now I kind of want to see that.”
“Yeah, you would.” Nate chuckled and pressed a kiss to Lucas’s forehead. Then he sighed, but he didn’t sound unhappy. Quite the opposite. “This was a fun weekend. I’m glad we did this.”
“Me too.” Lucas glanced at the clock radio beside the bed. “We don’t have to drive back for a few hours. Want to go down to the beach again?”
Nate smiled. “Sounds good to me.”
After they’d checked out of the B and B and dropped their things in the trunk of the car, they headed toward the water. It was a nice walk from there to the beach, and even nicer once they were out on the sand. Like last night, it wasn’t particularly crowded. Up the coast, people were starting to set up umbrellas and blankets, and kids were venturing out into the water. Here, though, it was just them and a guy throwing a Frisbee for a soaking wet golden retriever while little seabirds scattered.
Walking beside Nate, Lucas took in a deep breath of the salty air. “Man. This has been really nice. Especially getting away from my jobs for a while.”
“Good.” Nate gave him a spine-tingling little smile as they continued strolling along the sand. “Seemed like you could use some time off. I mean, three jobs?” He whistled. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“The statements for my student loans are pretty motivating.”
“Yeah, I guess they would be.”
“It’s not forever, though.” Lucas gazed out at the water. “I think once my client base starts building up at Skin Deep, I’ll be in better shape.”
“How long do you think that’ll take?”
“Don’t know. Colin’s pretty confident, though. Especially since there are so many shitty artists around the bases and universities, cover-ups are going to be in high demand for a long time.”
“You don’t feel pigeonholed? With people coming to you for cover-ups instead of new work?”
“Not really. If a person likes my cover-up, especially after they’ve already been through regretting a tattoo, odds are they’ll come back to me when they want their next piece.”
“So the idiot artists are sending business your way.”
“Basically.” Lucas shrugged. “I hate that people wind up getting shit tattoos that they have to get redone, but I’m not going to say no to them coming to me for the redo.”
“Makes sense.”
“I just wish I could devote more time to it. Which, I mean . . .” Lucas sighed, staring down at the sand at their feet. “My credit cards are pretty much paid off. I’m actually tempted to quit one of my jobs and live off credit for a little while until tattooing starts paying better.” He laughed self-consciously. “I know it’s stupid and risky as fuck, and I’ll be drowning in interest for a while, but it’s like . . . either I need to take the leap or give it up, you know?”
“Shit or get off the pot?”
“Pretty much.”
“Why are you still doing an apprenticeship, anyway?” Nate asked. “From what you were saying to Ethan and Ginny, that’s how most people learn to tattoo, but you already knew.”
“Yeah, I . . .” Lucas blew out a breath. “I guess it was a confidence thing. I’d been doing ink on myself and on my friends for a while, but the artist who was helping me—my original mentor—retired. And I guess I wasn’t ready to strike out on my own. Colin was really edgy about me apprenticing under him because he’s had some awful apprentices, but once he realized I wasn’t just some kid off the street who’d never done a tattoo before, he agreed to work with me. I’m . . . I mean, for all intents and purposes, I’m a part-time employee of the shop. I do tattoos just like the other guys, and Colin helps me with some of the techniques I don’t already know. They all do, but especially Colin.” He smiled. “My shading has gotten so much better since he started showing me a few things.”
“Good. And I would imagine it’s not hurting the shop to have you there.”
Lucas chuckled as some heat rushed into his cheeks. “They scratch my back, I scratch theirs, I guess.” He slid an arm around Nate’s waist and sighed happily as Nate’s arm wrapped around his shoulders. “Colin’s been making some noise about hiring me on after the apprenticeship, too.”
Nate glanced at him, eyebrows up behind his sunglasses. “Oh yeah?”
“Yep. Like I said, I’m practically an employee already, but as it stands right now, that’s only for a year. Until my apprenticeship is over. He’d like to keep me there after that, though.”
“You going to take him up on it?”
“Depends on how my other jobs play out. Schedules and all that. But I’d definitely like to.” His stomach knotted. “I’m just . . . I mean, what if I quit my other jobs and then my tattoo clientele dries up? It’s kind of terrifying, you know? Working a job where you have no idea how much you’ll make from week to week?”
“Ah, now I see why you’re hesitating.” Nate pulled him a little closer and pressed a kiss to his temple as they kept walking. “There’s no stability.”
“Exactly. Some of the guys have it made. Pete’s wife has a job with a steady paycheck. Colin’s got a decent savings, plus he shares a place with his brother. So . . .” Lucas exhaled. “If they go a week or two without doing a lot of tattooing, they’re still gonna eat. Me, I’m alread
y stretched thin, even with my other paychecks.”
“But those fluctuate from week to week too, don’t they? Based on how many hours you work?”
Lucas nodded. “Except at least I can predict how much I’ll be getting. I can look at the schedule and do the math, and there’s my budget for the next couple of weeks. At Skin Deep, I could potentially go three days without so much as a walk-in. Or book an entire afternoon for a $500 custom job, only to have the client not show up. They forfeit their deposit if they don’t, but that’s only a hundred bucks.”
“Ouch.” They walked in silence for a moment before Nate spoke again. “You’ve told me stories about being reckless and impulsive, but when it comes to tattooing, you’re so . . . cautious.”
“I don’t want to screw it up. The tattoos themselves and the job.” Lucas gazed out at the long stretch of sand in front of them, watching a couple of tiny long-beaked seabirds running toward the gently rolling surf. “Being reckless and impulsive has bitten me in the ass enough times. I’ve learned to be a little more cautious about certain things. And I was raised by people who were all about having backup plans for your backup plans when it came to jobs and money.”
“Hence the degree you’re paying for but not using.”
“Bingo. And yeah, I’m probably too cautious, but—”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’ve worked with people who stay in the Navy until the twenty-year mark, then retire, and they don’t have a clue what they’re doing next. Suddenly half their income is gone, along with their housing allowance, and they don’t even know where to start.” Nate glanced at Lucas, sun glinting off his mirrored aviators. “The Navy tries to mitigate that as much as possible. They put people through classes before they get out. Help them transition to the civilian life and all that. But sometimes, people are just so used to the stability of a military career, they can’t even conceive of life without it.”