“Every time I go home, my mother tries to persuade me to have children. She says she voted for the Democrats to support gay adoption so I could become a father and she could be a grandmother. We argue about it every single time. I don’t like kids; I don’t see myself being a father. She was devastated when I told her that’s why I broke up with Holden. He wanted a family, and I didn’t. It’s not for me and never will be. I just don’t want children and I think that’s my right, but apparently now gay men are expected to get fucking married and start a family, and I never wanted those things. So anyway, when I go home, I feel like a failure even if I’m exactly who I want to be when I’m not at the farm.”
“You looked extremely sexy with Gia on you tonight.”
“Did that turn you on, little prince? Because I can borrow her as an accessory any time. She might look good on you as well, you know.”
“And have spit up on my suits? Fuck no!”
Luke’s laugh warms my heart. “Well, your hate of baby puke makes you even hotter in my book.” He flips me around to come on top of me. “And now I want to fuck you.”
He leans forward to nibble on my lips, as if he’s making sure that’s what I want as well. I nod while grabbing a condom from my night table and sheathing him.
“The lube is somewhere on the bed,” I say, trying to remember where I threw it an hour ago. I’m excited by the idea of him fucking me again, but I know my dick will need release as well. I tug on it right away, waiting for him to work on me.
“Don’t worry, babe, I’ll find it,” he says before fucking my mouth with his tongue.
I moan, knowing I’m going to get a beard-burn again but not caring one little bit.
8
Luke
For the past week, dragging my ass to work has never been easier. Dex wakes up at five every morning, goes to the gym in his complex, comes back to bed for a quick cock sucking, and showers before leaving for work. I need to be ready to go by seven when I stay over. Getting so much sex on demand is tiring as fuck but rejuvenating at the same time.
Once I go home, I shower, change my clothes, and go to the parlor. I’m on track with all my paperwork, orders, and the management shit I need to do daily. I generally avoid that part of my job and delegate a lot. These days, by the time we open, the shop is perfect. The downside is that my employees have too much time on their hands, so they sit and gossip a lot.
For a little more than two years now, my schedule has been booked all the fucking time. That’s what happens when a celebrity makes a shout-out to you on social media. Since Julie’s post on Instagram saying I was the one inking her skin, I’ve been in high demand. Then Dan Darling, singer of the famous band the Darling Devils, came back for his fifth tattoo, and it went even crazier than before.
My guys stay super busy too. Morgan is the best of them. She’s seriously talented. Her style is more black-and-white old-school style, but she can do whatever the client requests. She was my apprentice for years and acts like my little sister most of the time. A pain in the ass little sister but still a sister.
Elvis is my protégé. Fucking crazy-ass dude from New York. He came to me recommended by my mentor. With his dark skin and blue eyes, he has clients from all orientations dropping their underwear at the sight of him. If you want to jump from the roof of a building or see someone sleep in his fridge, he’s your guy. His talent lives up to his craziness. He always has stories to tell on Mondays.
Then there’s Calvin. He’s our hipster, intellectual, nerd… whatever you want to tag him. He wears glasses and a hat and reads books between appointments. He’s strange, quiet, but when he speaks, you know it’s going to be meaningful.
“So, Bossman,” Elvis calls from the reception area, “how’s the new boyfriend?”
I get up from my desk and walk over to them. They’re all standing around the counter, waiting for the next appointment. I pour myself a coffee and drink it slowly, looking at them but ignoring Elvis’s question.
“Someone didn’t get laid last night?” Morgan asks.
I ignore her as well. Calvin looks at me over his book and winks. They’re so fucking annoying.
“I’m just wondering. Is it the guy who came here a few weeks ago?” Morgan asks.
“What guy?” Elvis asks.
“You know, the one who dresses like some hot lawyer on TV but has the looks of the one playing the white-collar criminal in that show?” Morgan fans herself.
“Spector and Bomer?” Calvin smiles.
“I thought you didn’t like dicks,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Oh, I don’t, but your man is hot! I mean, uptight, but from what I hear, those are the kinkier ones.”
She’s so fucking ridiculous.
“Let’s come back to Bossman’s new boyfriend. Who is this guy? Should I Google him?” Elvis asks.
Calvin doesn’t say a word but pulls out his phone, taps something on it, and hands it to Elvis.
“Wow, Bossman, that’s your man?”
I turn to Calvin, who’s smirking at me.
“Show me that,” I say, snatching the phone from Elvis. Looking back at me, in all his seriousness, is Dex. I look at Calvin, then back at the phone, then Calvin, and raise an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.
“I like to know who gets in your pants. Sue me.” Calvin shrugs.
“This is highly disturbing.”
“At least my hacking abilities aren’t serving the dark side,” he answers, getting back to his book.
“You can hack?” Elvis says. “Fuck, man, we could do some crazy shit together!” He wraps his arm around his neck and walks away to his station.
Morgan comes closer to me. “Seriously, what’s up? You look all chirpy and shit. Even more relaxed than usual. Is it that good?”
Is it that good? If only she knew. I might be in too deep already.
“It’s just a friends-with-benefits thingy,” I say, pushing aside how I really feel about my little prince.
“Yeah… I’d believe you more if you weren’t saying that with such a grin on your face.”
I shrug. I’m happy. Is that a crime? Dex is opening up to me and even cuddling. I know we’re not dating, but he can be vulnerable once he’s in my arms. He lets go of this persona he’s created, and I’m the only one who sees the real Dex. And fuck, I like it. I also like when he tells me to shut up because I’m singing some country tune. I like watching his boring documentaries and waking up to his bark that we’ll be late. I especially like that he’s an ass to everyone but me.
* * *
I hear someone clearing his throat, and I come out of my thoughts to find a perfect pair of blue eyes I know too well. Except they’re not attached to the body I enjoyed this morning. Asher looks a lot like his Uncle Ian, but with Dex’s eyes and mannerisms. It’s disturbing in a way.
“Asher? What are you doing here?” I extend my hand for him to shake.
“What do you think I’m here for? You own a tattoo parlor.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes.
“Oh no! No! No! I’m not inking you, man. Your mother and uncle would kill me!”