by L. A. Witt
And though he was probably batting way out of his league, he couldn’t help hoping that experience was with Colin.
* * *
I’ve got some sketches for you. LMK when you’re coming by.
The text stopped Daniel in his tracks.
Standing in the middle of the pier like an idiot while everyone rushed past him on their way to lunch or liberty, he stared slack-jawed at his phone. It had been four days since they’d met at the gym—not that he’d been counting. He hadn’t been able to get Colin out of his head, and he’d been hoping like hell for this text to come in, but now that it had, he froze. This wasn’t a prank, was it? His buddies hadn’t gotten hold of his phone again, had they?
Of course not. He hadn’t told anybody that Colin had said he’d text him. So this had to have come from the real source.
Then another message came through. A photo this time. He tapped the image to blow it up, and . . . wow. It was hard to see on a small screen, but the designs were gorgeous. One was more of an old-school Navy tattoo—a shark wearing a white cap and twisting around an anchor with a ship in the background. The other was almost a photo-realistic design of an anchor dropping into the water beside the hull of a ship. Neither were what Daniel had pictured, but he wasn’t rejecting them, either. They were both incredibly cool, and the level of detail was mind-blowing. He could only imagine what they’d look like in person.
His heart skipped.
In person.
In Colin’s tattoo shop.
With Colin.
He gulped. Then, hoping his nerves didn’t come through, he sent a message back:
I’m off work at 4. Can come by at 5?
Colin must’ve been waiting for the text, because he immediately replied.
See you then.
Daniel blew out a breath. Okay. Just a few more hours, and he’d be in the shop to look at Colin’s tattoos. Colin’s tattoo designs. So he could get one. Which would mean Colin’s hands on him. Oh God.
* * *
“These are amazing.” Daniel looked over the row of designs, which Colin had spread out across the counter. There were eight in total, all completely different from one to the next. Three leaned toward the old-school Navy tattoo look. Three were photo-realistic. Of the remaining two, one was like anime and the other had a look that reminded Daniel of a watercolor painting.
“Any of them jumping out at you?” Colin asked.
“All of them.” Daniel chuckled, glancing across the counter at Colin. “If anything, you just gave me a million more ideas.”
Colin grinned. “That’s what sketches are for. And hey, there’s nothing that says you can’t have more than one Navy-themed tattoo.”
“True.”
“In fact, now that I think about it, you just came back from a deployment, didn’t you?”
Daniel eyed him. “How’d you know?”
“I’m assuming you’re on the Eisenhower, right? Like the other guys you came in with the other night?”
“Oh. Right.” Daniel nodded. “Yeah, we just came back from the Med.”
“So you’ve done at least five thousand miles at sea.” Colin opened the Navy portfolio to the last page, which showed a diagram of traditional Navy tattoos on a cartoon sailor. He pointed to the one on the chest. “That means you can get a swallow.”
Daniel craned his neck to see the sketch of a swooping bird. “Really?”
“Yep.”
“Huh. I’ve always liked that one, too.” He chuckled. “Damn. Now I have more to choose from.”
Colin laughed. “Well, as I said, it isn’t like you can’t get more than one.” He gestured at his arm. “I didn’t stop at one.”
“So I see.” Daniel indulged in a lingering look at Colin’s elaborate tattoos. A second before his staring would’ve become awkward, he shifted back to the swallow. Then back to the designs Colin had done for him. “Shit. Decisions, decisions. I can get more than one, but not on the same paycheck.”
“That’s fair.” Colin paused. “If you want to see how any of these”—he motioned toward his sketches—“look on your skin, we could put a stencil on you and see what you think.”
“A stencil? What?”
“Yeah. Like a temporary tattoo. I can print out a couple of them, put them on your arms, and let you see what they’ll actually look like.”
The thought of Colin pressing a temporary tattoo onto his skin made Daniel’s mouth go dry.
“Sure. Okay.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s . . . uh. Yeah.”
Colin smiled. “Pick two you really like, give me a few minutes to print them out, and we’ll see how they look.”
Daniel selected one of the photo-realistic designs and an old-school one. From there, it took Colin all of five minutes to upload and print the stencils. He trimmed them down, then turned to Daniel. “Okay. Roll up your sleeves.”
Daniel bit back a suggestion about taking off his shirt. Yeah, it would get his sleeves completely out of the way, but . . . no. He’d never be able to form a coherent thought if he did that. So he obediently rolled up his sleeves, tucking them securely so they wouldn’t come down.
Colin pulled a stick of deodorant out of a drawer and took off the cap. “Okay, so I’m going to put this on your skin, and then when I rub the stencil on it, the ink will transfer.”
Daniel nodded. All that really registered was the part about rubbing something on his skin. “You’re the expert.”
Colin did exactly as he’d described—he ran the deodorant over Daniel’s skin, then carefully put the first stencil on his arm. With the heel of his hand, he rubbed over the paper, and all Daniel could think about was how much he wanted that paper to suddenly disappear.
Get a grip. This is a tattoo, not foreplay.
Like I’d know foreplay if it bit me in the ass.
Colin peeled off the first stencil. Then he went through the same motions on Daniel’s other arm. When he peeled that one off, he said, “Okay. Have a look.” He nodded toward a full-length mirror on the wall.
Daniel stood in front of it and looked at the left tattoo, then the one on the right. They were both cool as hell, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to commit. “Is it weird to get cold feet at this point?”
“Not at all.” Colin met his reflected gaze. “Especially with ink like that, since it’ll be harder to cover up.”
Nodding, Daniel murmured, “Good point. But why get it if I want to cover it up?”
“Fair point. But there is a certain advantage to being able to cover it up if you want to.” He gestured at his neck. “Short of dressing like a priest, this is kind of hard to cover.”
An image flashed through Daniel’s mind of Colin in priest garb—white collar and all—and he quickly banished the thought before all his blood started rushing south.
Shaking himself, he mumbled, “Yeah, that’s probably true. I’m not sure my grandma’s ready to see me with a sleeve.”
Colin chuckled. “Most people’s grandmas aren’t ready for that. But yeah, visibility is something to think about. If the tattoo you really, really want is visible, then go for it, but it’s still something to consider.”
“Good point.” Daniel glanced at the open portfolio and the swallows. Then he looked at the stenciled-on tattoos again. Yeah, he wanted a cool, unique Navy design, but a lifer tattoo could theoretically wait until he was closer to retirement. When he’d seen more of the world, worked his way higher in the ranks, and was maybe as salty as the grouchy old bastards he answered to now.
But the swallow was something he’d only recently earned. He’d spent his early Navy days pounding sand in the Middle East. It had taken him almost eight years to finally get his sea legs. When most people already had two or three cruises under their belts, he’d finally done one. Eight years and two combat tours after enlisting, he’d earned that fucking bird.
He turned to Colin. “I want to get the swallow.” Pointing at one of the stencils, he added, “I’m going to wait on these.”
Colin smiled. “All right. Where do you want it?”
Daniel tapped his chest. “Of course.”
“That’s, um . . .” Colin grimaced. “Not as painless as your upper arm, let’s put it that way.”
Oh shit.
But Daniel wanted that bird. And even though they were strangers, he trusted Colin. Hadn’t he said he’d test the needle on him without ink? So Daniel could still bail if it was too much?
“It’s fine.” Daniel glanced at the other designs. “I feel kind of bad after you put so much work into those . . .”
“Don’t worry about it. When you finish this tattoo and realize how addictive ink really is . . .” Colin winked.
Daniel barely kept himself from shivering. He had a feeling it wasn’t the ink that would have him coming back in here after the swallow was done.
“I’ll go ahead and schedule you if you’re sure,” Colin said. “But let’s schedule it a few days out. Give you a chance to think about whether this is really the one you want.” He paused. “Normally I’d have a nonrefundable deposit, which you’d forfeit if you canceled, but . . .”
Daniel raised his eyebrows. “Why make an exception for me?”
Their eyes locked.
Colin broke away first, clearing his throat. “Look, I just want to make sure you get what you want. The tattoo you want, I mean. The . . .” He shook himself and met Daniel’s eyes again. “You have to wear the ink for the rest of your life. I’m willing to be flexible if it means you’re happy with what you get.”
But why me?
Daniel couldn’t bring himself to ask, though.
So he just smiled. “Okay. Do you have any appointments next week?”
Chapter 5
Over the next week, Daniel and Colin crossed paths at the gym, but only exchanged brief small talk before they were dragged in separate directions by their respective trainers. Colin stole plenty of glances, though—working out in a gym surrounded by floor-to-ceiling mirrors definitely made it easy to grab an eyeful. While most of the other members were watching their own form and checking their progress, Colin subtly ogled Daniel whenever he could.
He wanted to do more than look, but he was patient. They’d have some time together when Daniel came in for his tattoo on Thursday. Until then, he was content to drool over the sight of him in between sets.
“Oh my God, you perv.” Amanda rolled her eyes. “Just ask him out already.”
Colin glared at her as he put down the barbell he’d been shoulder pressing.
“What? Don’t tell me you’re not thinking about it.”
“Never said I wasn’t.”
“Mmhmm. So why aren’t you . . .”
“Because I’d rather not come on too strong?”
She snorted. “Honey, checking him out from across the room is not coming on at all.” She gave Daniel a not-so-inconspicuous glance. “If I didn’t have a boyfriend, I’d be elbowing you out of the way for him.”
Colin laughed, gingerly rubbing his tired shoulders. “You’d probably have a better shot anyway.”
She faced him again. “Straight?”
“Probably. I mean, I think he might be gay, but you know how it goes—straight ’til proven queer.” He’d learned that one the hard way in his younger days. Definitely safer to make absolutely certain a guy was into other guys before even thinking about making a move.
“Well.” She flashed a devilish grin. “I could try hooking up with him, and if he turns out to be playing for your team, you’ll know the coast is clear.”
“Right. And Scott would love that.”
“Eh. He owes me a threesome.”
Colin laughed again, shaking his head. “Of course he does.”
“He does!”
“Yeah.” He rolled his tired shoulders and reached for the barbell. “Good luck with that. And as for him”—he tilted his head slightly toward Daniel before closing his fingers around the bar—“he’s got an appointment for a tattoo. I’ll try to feel him out then.”
“Feel him out?” She snickered. “More like feel him up.”
With anyone else, Colin would have been offended by the implication he’d be anything less than a consummate professional. With Amanda, well, he didn’t expect any less, so he just laughed, shook his head, and focused on his next set of shoulder presses.
And stole one more glance at Daniel.
Maybe two.
* * *
On Thursday, shortly after Colin’s business partner and employee had left for the evening, Daniel walked into Skin Deep, Inc., but he wasn’t alone. Two of the guys who sometimes came to the gym with him were hot on his heels as he came through the door.
Damn, thought Colin. So much for a little one-on-one time so they could flirt. He’d even made sure Matt and Pete took the night off just so he’d have the shop—and his gorgeous client—to himself.
He tried not to be disappointed, though. After all, Daniel was considering other tattoos, and—as he was forever reminding Matt—a client’s annoying friends were potential clients themselves. Though if one of these guys wanted a tattoo after this, he might have to press the needle extra hard just as a fuck you for effectively cockblocking him.
The thought made him chuckle, but he quickly schooled his expression as Daniel came up to the counter.
“Okay.” Daniel pushed his shoulders back. “I’m here. Let’s do this.”
Colin grinned. “Just let me set up a few things first, and we’re good to go.”
Daniel smiled nervously. “Cool. Do I, uh, pay you first?”
“Nope. When we’re done. Give me about five minutes, and we’ll start.”
While Colin set up his station, one of the guys did a double take, and eyed him. “Hey, have we met before?”
Colin looked at him, but couldn’t place him. “Uh, maybe?”
The guy studied him intently. “You just look really familiar.”
“This area isn’t that big.” Colin resisted the urge to shift his weight uncomfortably. “We might’ve run into each other somewhere.”
“He goes to the gym next door, idiot,” the other said. “You’ve see him there.”
The first guy’s lips quirked, but then he shrugged, too. “Yeah, maybe. But I swear I’ve—”
“Shut up, Potter.” The other guy nudged the first—Potter, apparently—aside. “Let him do his job.”
Potter gave Colin another puzzled look, but let it go and started browsing one of the shop’s many portfolios.
Colin dropped it, too. He couldn’t place Potter besides seeing him at the gym, so he figured he must’ve looked like someone else.
Or you’ve seen me on camera, and I won’t bring that up in front of your boys.
Wouldn’t be the first time someone had recognized him like that, and he wasn’t about to embarrass the guy.
While Daniel and the others perused portfolios and trash-talked each other like twentysomething guys always did, Colin finished setting up. When everything was in place, he turned to Daniel. “Ready?”
Daniel gulped. “I think so.”
“You can do this.” One of his buddies smacked his arm. “Come on, virgin.”
Daniel shot him a murderous glare. “Shut up, fucker.”
“Hey, easy.” The guy put up his hands. “Just giving you shit.”
Colin cleared his throat. “Right, uh . . .” He hesitated. “Just need you to take off your shirt.”
As his friends wandered over to the wall that was covered in pinup girl designs, Daniel peeled off his T-shirt.
Oh dear Lord.
It was no surprise that he was fit. He was almost religious in his gym attendance, and anyway, the military sort of expected a certain level of fitness. But seeing was believing. And drooling. And fighting to keep his hands to himself, which was going to get a hell of a lot harder—really, Colin?—once he had to put his hands on this gorgeous man.
Daniel’s abs were flat with just the beginning of a six-pack, and Colin suspe
cted he was, at least in part, coming to the gym in an effort to bring out those coveted contours.
Let that dream go, dude. Maintaining a six-pack is fucking miserable.
He shrugged away the prickly feeling in his spine. There were guys who could maintain that kind of physique without pushing themselves to the point of requiring an intervention, multiple stints in psychiatric hospitals, and embarrassingly long periods of near-constant supervision. Hopefully Daniel was one of them. Though Colin still managed to maintain a subtle but noticeable six-pack, getting the physique he wanted had been a long, brutal, and damaging battle. He wouldn’t have wished that experience on anyone.
Colin forced those thoughts away and cleared his throat. “All right, let’s do this.” He held up the stencil for Daniel to see. “We’ll put this on and see how it looks, and then I’ll start the real thing.”
Daniel nodded, though he seemed to lose a little color. “Right. Okay.”
Colin had already put a stencil on Daniel’s skin once before, so it shouldn’t have been enough to make his head spin, but he wasn’t all that surprised that it did. Not after Daniel had been occupying so much of his brain lately.
What is wrong with me? He might not even be gay.
Oh, but a boy can hope.
He peeled the paper off Daniel’s chest, leaving behind the outline of the swallow, and gestured toward the mirror. “Go have a look and let me know if it’s the right size and place.”
Daniel looked in the mirror. The grin that spread across his lips made Colin’s pulse jump. Partly because he was always proud when someone liked their design. Partly because . . . well . . . Daniel. Shirtless, soon-to-be-tattooed, fit-as-fuck, possibly-gay Daniel.
He faced Colin again. “Yeah. This is good. It’s perfect.”
“That’s what I want to hear.” Colin adjusted the chair so it was semi-reclined and patted the seat. “Lie back and get comfortable.”
Daniel gave the chair a wary look, but did as he was told and lay back on it, no doubt oblivious that in this position, he screwed with Colin’s senses more than before. His abs looked even flatter, the smooth skin stretched over lean muscles that were just starting to define themselves.