Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
Ricky
Waking up alone wasn’t nearly as fun as falling asleep in Fin’s arms. Reaching a hand to the spot where the sheets are pulled back, they were still warm.
So he hadn’t been gone long. I heard steps outside getting further away and assumed Fin must be checking in on the shop since it had been a few days since he worked.
Sitting up, I rubbed sleep from my eyes and noted the setting sun over the hill behind Fin’s house through the curtains. I might as well shower, since I had alpha spunk leaking from my ass and I smelled like a mix of sex and sweat from more than our bedroom activities.
Letting myself into the attached bathroom, I told myself the hall bathroom only had a tub. It wasn’t that I wanted to use Fin’s products and maybe have him come find me in here.
Lathering up, I found it wasn’t as satisfying as the smell Fin put off naturally. He didn’t need fancy cologne, his smoked bourbon scent had me panting every time. Hell, I started drinking bourbon when I wanted something fancy because it reminded me of Fin.
He still hadn’t found me when I shut the shower off, but I heard the front door close as I was drying with his towel. “Fin?” I called out, knowing Rowen had a key, too.
“Come out and eat something, sleepyhead,” Fin answered and I ran out naked to find him opening the fridge. “How does breakfast for dinner sound? Eggs and bacon?”
“Sounds good to me,” I replied, leaning on the kitchen island and waiting for him to see me. Before he turned around, I noticed my detachable saddlebag on the counter. “You brought my stuff in?”
“Yeah, and I found your spare panties,” Fin’s chuckle cut off as he caught sight of me, naked and damp from his shower.
Rel and I walked around in the nude all the time at home, but he never looked at me the way Fin was.
His eyes ate me up and I felt his glance like a physical touch, and I worried he’d drop the food in his hands.
“Fuck, you’re hot without the lingerie, too. ”
“Thank you,” I smirked and that seemed to snap Fin out of his lust haze. He closed the fridge and set the egg carton and milk on the counter. “So, do you want me to stay naked, or put some panties on?”
Fin ignored me, retrieving a bowl and pan. “I found something else in your bag.”
“Oh?”
Reaching for the leather satchel I used as an overnight bag, I popped it open to see what he meant. Inside was a spare tank top, basketball shorts, purple satin underwear with a pouch for my dick, and taking up most of the space, my small tattoo kit.
“You take that on the road with you?” Fin asked as he cracked the eggs into the bowl before adding milk and salt.
“Sure. I get bored when I’m stuck in a hotel room. There’s only so much exercising and masturbating I can do to pass the time.”
Fin spluttered a laugh as he poured the eggs into the pan and turned the heat on. “With our healing time, I certainly abused my dick when I was young.”
The image of a younger Fin jacking off all day had me crossing the space to wrap my arms around him.
He had only thrown on a pair of jeans and his boots to go outside, and I reveled in the feeling of his smooth, bare back on my hairy chest. Fin hummed as he whisked the eggs, seemingly happy to have me attached to his back like a barnacle.
I bit into his neck where it met his shoulder possessively, before I realized it’s where a mating mark would go.
Fin tensed and I backed off.
“I’m gonna throw these clothes on before we eat.”
When I returned in my shorts and shirt, fresh panties snug over the chub I got at touching him, Fin was frying up the bacon. I hoped I hadn’t made it too awkward.
“Almost done, why don’t you sit at the island.”
Taking a plate with eggs and a fork, I moved to sit and wait for the man to finish up. A minute later, he added bacon to my eggs and sat beside me like I wanted. “This looks good, thanks.”
“No problem. We worked up an appetite,” Fin told me with a wink and I almost choked.
Pulling a scandalized face, I teased, “Are you flirting with me, Clark Finley?”
“What if I am?”
Then I liked it a lot and didn’t want him to stop, I wanted to say. Instead, we grinned at each other over our forks and kept eating in companionable silence. Finishing first, I took my plate to the sink to wash.
“How does this tattoo thing work? You don’t need to be in a sterilized shop?” Fin asked, and I turned to find him tracing a finger along the zipper of my kit.
“Keeping everything clean is very important,” I conceded, moving to open the black container so he could see there were bags with sealed needles and gloves inside. “But I’m not licensed. So it doesn’t matter where I do it.”
“Are you saying you do illegal things?” Fin asked in a mock imitation of my scandalized tone from before.
We both chuckled at his words, since a lot of what we did for the club and pack weren’t legal. “I may not have the fancy piece of paper to frame and put on the wall, but I have a lot of practice.”
Fin looked at my arms, where most of the ink was what I’d done on myself. “You ever tattooed other people?”
“Of course. Or are you offering up your virgin skin for me?” I chuckled but also eyed his bare chest. I could see how I would mark him clearly, as if the ink was already on his skin.
“That’s an idea.”
“What?” I scrunched my brow and waited for Fin to look at me. “Are you serious? Because I know exactly what I’d put on you.”
“Don’t you need a design printed out or something?”
“Naw, I freehand mine,” I told him, and watched as Fin stood to walk around the counter.
He ran a finger from the geometric design at my right wrist that faded into trees before moving to the watercolors on my bicep. “You did all of these?”
“I’m left-handed, so that side was easier.”
“And what would you tattoo on me, Ricky?” Fin moved his finger to my chin and I shivered at his intense gaze.
“A wolf,” I said without hesitation and then cleared my throat. “Black ink on your pec, from our club logo.”
Fin looked less like I was saying something off the wall, and more like he was considering it. “And it doesn’t just heal and fade fast?”
“Not if you don’t shift for about a week. It’s an open wound for about seven days for us.”
“Alright,” Fin said simply and stepped back.
“Alright, as in cool info bro? Or alright, you want me to tattoo you someday?”
“Why not now?”
Was he serious? His expression and even heartbeat read as calm and collected without a hint of teasing or fear. This sexy man really trusted me to permanently mark him.
“If you don’t like it, just shift right away and there’s barely a mark. Ask me how I know?” I laughed to myself at the memory. “Go sit back on the stool.”
“Tell me about it?” Fin asked as he took his seat. I explained that I got an expensive thigh piece when I was first making money from fights. “You have a thigh tattoo now.”
“Yeah, that’s when I learned how to do it myself, to cover up the fact I shifted two days later and lost most of the ink.
” I wiped off the counter and put cling-film down for Fin to rest his arm on.
Standing between his thighs, I reached for the still-packaged razor.
“I’m thinking about the left side of your upper chest.”
“Go for it,” Fin gestured with permission and leaned back in the chair. I was glad it had a back, because this might take a while.
Shaving him felt more intimate than when I’d done it for friends, and I felt my breath quickening. Fin rested his free hand on my hip and that didn’t help matters. “Don’t distract me.”
He chuckled but didn’t grope me any more. After snapping on nitrile gloves, I traced the outline of the wolf from our club logo with a skin marker, as I used the patch on his jacket hanging by the door for reference.
“Can you see if you like the placement and size?” I asked as I poured black ink into a cup.
Instead of looking, he kept his eyes on me. “Surprise me.”
Fuck. Fin was letting me mark him as mine in a way I loved. Taking a deep breath, I turned my cordless tattoo gun on and hovered it over his skin. The moment felt important. I didn’t need hearts and roses. The trust he was putting in me spoke volumes without Fin saying a word.