Chapter 27
My phone rings, and I grab it off the counter.
“Scott.” My voice cracks. I’ve not seen him since I dropped him home; he’s not talking to me, he’s ignoring me. Just seeing his name on my screen squeezes my heart, and my mouth dries.
“Killian. I need a favour.”
“Has he hurt you?” I snap out. “I will kill him if he has. Scott, are you hurt?”
There’s a sigh on the other end of the phone. “No, Killian, he hasn’t. We’re fine. I need a favour. I want a tattoo, and I don’t trust anyone else to do it.”
“A tattoo? Seriously. Scott, this isn’t you.”
“Can you do it or not, Killian?”
“Sure. What do you want?”
“I want his name.”
“Fuck, no! Scott, you can’t. It’s permanent. This is no fucking joke, Scott. Please don’t do this.”
“Will you do it or not?”
“Scott? Please reconsider this.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll go somewhere more professional.” His voice is cold and scathing.
“Scott, wait.” I shake my head; this is mental. But if I can control the narrative, I may be able to persuade him otherwise. “I’ll do it, but I decide where to put it, and I won’t have him in my shop. They’re my conditions. If you want me to do it, that’s my boundary. Be here at nine tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
“Scott…” Fuck, he hung up. I pick the pen pot off the counter and throw it across the room, yelling into the open space.
I’m off work tomorrow. I’ve got an all-day gym session, gearing up for the fight next weekend, so I’ll squeeze him in and then go to the gym after.
It won’t take long because I’ll make sure it’s the tiniest fucking dot. That wanker won’t win.
My frustration eases as I step around the counter and pick the pens up as my next client strolls in, smiling. I turn on my happy face and smile back. I give him my full attention until I start tattooing, and then I plot while creating his masterpiece.
Hours go by, and I keep my face void of emotion. I tattoo, shade, and wipe. When I’ve completed the design, I take photos and wrap the client. I scrub everything down. I use my pent-up anger to clean the shop, to scrub, and I get the back room ready.
We have a modesty room out the back for tattoos in private places.
Tattoos where people need to be in a state of undress, or for those who need a more private setting, it’s a small room.
Intimate. Perfect. I’ll be able to talk Scott out of this.
If I can’t, I’ll make sure he gets the tattoo he deserves.
Sleep evades me, so I finally give up and crawl out of bed, dressing smart.
I make sure I look good, really fucking good, spraying his favourite aftershave on, the one that he always leaned in a little closer when I wore it.
I’ve been reliving everything, remembering every look, every comment, before I realised what he was to me, before I saw him for the man he is and not the child I loved like a brother.
It sounds wrong when I say it like that, but I haven’t thought of him like this until recently. But now, I can’t think of him as anything other than mine. He’ll realise it’s the only option by the time I’ve done with him.
Once I’ve got the room prepped, I stand, staring out of the window.
Dickhead’s car pulls up, and he climbs out.
Scott steps out, but Dickhead is glaring at me.
He smirks and makes his way to Scott. He grabs him and pins him to the car.
He grips him possessively as he forces his tongue into Scott’s mouth.
Scott relaxes and wraps his arms around him as he kisses him back.
I cross my arms, my biceps bulging, and I chant in my head: Do not kill him. Do not fucking kill him, yet!
His eyes are open; it’s all for show. He stares at me while he kisses Scott, but I blatantly glare back.
That’s right, motherfucker, you may think you’ve won, but don’t underestimate me. He’s mine, and I’m gonna take him fucking back.
Scott breaks the kiss, blushing as he pulls back and looks away. Dickhead leans in and gives him another quick kiss, squeezing his hand, and I see Scott say, “I love you” to him. My jaw clenches, and I vow to rip his head off as soon as I get a fucking chance.
When Scott walks inside alone, I pull him into a hug as Dickhead sits on the bonnet of his car.
“You sure about this?” I whisper into his ear as I pull him in for a hug, watching Dickhead’s jaw tick. He nods against me and pulls away, turning to the window and giving him a quick smile and a wave.
I walk over to the door and lock it, turning the. With a Client sign around, smiling at him while I pull down the blind. I turn and place my hand on the small of Scott’s back and lead him through the shop.
“Where are we going?”
“I think it will be more private for you out the back.”
“Erm, okay, I guess.” He wrings his hands as I lead him into the back space. I have the music on low in there, the heating turned up, so it’s warm, and the stencil already printed. The design is a beautiful scroll design around Dickhead’s name. I smile at Scott.
“You sure about this?” Once it’s on, it’s on.
He nods. “Where are you doing it? It looks big.”
“Hip, that way you can cover it and only people you want to see it can.”
“Does it need to be that big, though?”
“Go big or go home, right?”
“You’re being really nice about this, Killian. Thank you. I’m really nervous.”
I step forward and slide my hand up his arm. “Hey, if you don’t want to have it, you don’t have to. Look, sit down. Let’s talk about it.”
“No, I don’t want to talk. Just do it.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Normally, I’d step outside while they get undressed. But what can I say, I’m being a wanker. I pass him a modesty cover and tell him to undress. When he removes his bottom half, he looks petrified. He stands, cupping his junk, and I sit down and pull up my stool in front of him.
“Ready?” He nods, and I clean and shave as close to his dick as I can get with his hand in the way.
I lean in, breathing heavily next to him.
I wipe him clean as I press against him.
His body moves back, so I wrap my hand around him and cup his ass, holding him. I look up at him and smile. “You okay?”
He glances down, nodding, but then looking away. As my breath flutters across his hip, his skin pebbles and his inhale hitches. He coughs, trying to cover it, but I apply the stencil from the side of his dick, curling up towards his hip.
“Okay, have a look.”
“Killian,” he gasps. “It’s beautiful.” His eyes glaze, and he gives me the most beautiful smile. I stare up at him from my stool and smile at him.
“Okay, let’s get you tatted up.” He blows out a breath, and his hand shakes as he steps towards the tattoo bed.
“Lie down. We’ll be a few hours at least.”
“Really?” he gasps, sitting back up.
“Beautiful things take time, Scott.” He dips his chin and lies back down. “Just relax and close your eyes. Don’t worry, you’ll get the tattoo you deserve. Anyone who sees this will know who you belong to.”
He gives me a tight-lipped smile and closes his eyes. I start the machine, and he flinches. I rub my hand soothingly across his hip.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you, okay.”
I start tattooing. Every few minutes, I ask if he’s okay. Does he feel all right? I lower my voice, that deep, penetrating rumble that makes his skin pebble as I whisper across his body.
He gives me a tight nod. I keep tattooing, closer to him than necessary, each line taking longer than normal just to keep my hands on him.
Each wipe of his skin, I brush a little too close, and he keeps his eyes screwed tight, his breathing heavy, and his skin covered in goosebumps.
I get a little closer and let my breath skim across his skin.
The gravel I slip into my voice when I tell him how well he’s sitting, what a great job he’s doing, how beautiful it’s gonna look, and how everyone will know who he belongs to, caresses him.
I know the effect I’m having on him as I fill him with praise. I keep repeating it. And he relaxes.
“I love him, Killian,” he whispers.
“I know you think you do.”
“Killian, don’t. It would never work between us. You would never be happy in a relationship. You’re just not that type of guy. You’re a lover, Killian. You’re not a stayer.”
I can’t deny it hurts to hear him say that, but I give him a stunning tattoo. It fits his body so beautifully. Enhancing the shape of his Adonis belt and the curve of his hip. It’s gorgeous, and I smile at the work. When I wipe it down, I wrap it straight up while he’s still lying there.
I lean in and kiss his hip. He flinches, but I stand over him. “Sit up slowly, yeah, you might feel dizzy.” I pull him up, and he winces. I smile at him. “You sat so fucking well for me. How are you feeling?”
“A little woozy, I think.”
“Okay, stay there. I’ll get you some juice and chocolate.” I nip into the kitchen before slipping back into the room. He’s on the end of the bed with his hands gripping the side, his head hanging down to his chest. I sit on the stool and slide in front of him.
“Here.” I let him take the chocolate. As his gaze flicks to mine, I hand him the drink. And smile at him, cupping his face, and his eyes flutter closed. Rolling the stool between his legs, I look up at him and rest my hands on his thighs. “You good?”
I rub my thumbs across the sensitive skin, causing him to shudder.
He stares down at me. His throat bobs as he swallows hard.
His breath stutters, and I can see I’m affecting him.
Slowly, I stand in front of him. His eyes follow me as I lean over him.
I stare into his eyes and slide my hand across his cheek.
Leaning in and gently pressing my lips to his.
I grip him a little tighter as I slide my tongue over his.
He lets me, shuddering under my touch, and I whisper, “You’re mine, Nerd. ”
I kiss him again, firmer, deeper. I show him everything I’m feeling, and he melts for me. His hands slide up my sides, and he pulls me closer.
“Killian.” His voice hoarse and needy.
“I got you, beautiful. Let me make you feel better.”
“Killian, please,” he whimpers in my arms, and I drop to my knees, staring up at him and removing his modesty cloth, his perfect dick springing free.
I wrap my hand around him, gripping his cock.
Precum seeps from his tip. I lean in and lick it off, sliding my lips around the head.
I stare up at him. He leans back and rests on one arm as his other hand slides into my hair.
I wink. I slip my hand around to his ass, holding him tight as I caress my mouth up and down his thick shaft.
He groans and bucks against me. I pop his dick from my mouth as I slide my fist up and down.
“That’s it, Nerd, fuck my face, take what you fucking need.
” His hips thrust, and he groans, his chest rising and falling harder.
His grip tightens in my hair, and he gasps.
I slip him inside my mouth again, wrapping my tongue around him, licking and sucking, and nipping at the skin of his cock, sliding my tongue through his slit.
My fist slides up and down as my mouth encases him, my tongue flicking around his length, filthy moans echo in the small room.
“Killian,” he gasps. “It’s you. It’s always been you,” he whispers and grunts, his thighs tighten, his balls pull up, and his head drops, falling forward. He stares down at me, screaming my name as he comes down my throat. I slurp and suck hard as he bucks.
He collapses over me, panting. I pull off him and lean up. I kiss him, and he whimpers. I slide my hand over his cheek. My thumb comes away wet.
As I pull back and stare at him, silent tears fall down his face. When he looks at me, his eyes are red. He stands on shaky legs and snatches his jeans, tugging them on.
“I can’t keep doing this with you, Killian.”
“We could be good together, Scott. You know we could.”
“It won’t work, Killian. I shouldn’t have let you do this. I have another man’s name tattooed on me. I’m his now. You need to let me be his.”
I stand and push, pinning him against the wall. “I tattooed a name on you, Nerd, but that name was mine. That’s what you will always be: mine.”
I slam my lips against his, and he gasps. He tries to pull back, and I let him. I take a step back, giving him space.
“He’ll never love you as much as I do.”
His lip shakes. He shuffles away from me towards the door and fumbles with the lock. Tears stain his cheeks as he turns and runs out. The back door rattles as he yanks it open and races into the cold. I flop onto the tattoo bed and clench my fists.
If I’ve just blown this, I will fucking leave.
I can’t stick around if he stays with him; Dickhead doesn’t deserve him.
Scott just needs a little time to figure that out, and I need to be patient.
He will realise we are meant to be together.
He will come around. I just need to let him miss me.
But I’m not sure I can watch while I wait for that to happen.