Trent was lazily rubbing his seeping cock along his silk robe as Wood laid them back on the sofa. Trent’s eyes were closed, his body so utterly spent and satisfied that he wasn’t sure he’d ever move again. “Damn… just… damn,” he sighed, languidly running his hands through Wood’s silver-and-black hair as he lay resting on his thigh.
A long moment of silence went by, and Trent was close to drifting off to sleep—or maybe he had—when he felt a tickling sensation between his legs. He lifted his head with some effort and glanced down his body to see Wood entranced by whatever he was drawing on the inside of his thigh. Trent had only done that to get his lover going, but the expression he saw on Wood’s face at the moment was far from sexual. It was wonder.
“What are you doing, Hersch? Come on, let’s go to bed. I know you have to go to the shop early in the morning,” Trent said, sitting up, his mouth falling open as he stared speechless at the beautiful scenery on his leg. Dark shadowy trees were wrapped around his entire thigh. A wilderness.
“Come to the shop with me in the morning,” Wood said softly, gazing up at him. “I believe I’m ready.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
Wood
Wood was about to text Trent to remind him to come up there so he could check on his two-week-old tattoo before he, Mike, and Bishop went to hang out, when El hollered that Trent had just pulled up out front. He smiled despite himself, and the woman currently in his chair didn’t miss it.
“Who is Trent?” She grinned. “And here I was thinking you were single… and straight.”
“You were wrong on both counts,” El said, coming around the corner with Trent following, looking as sexy as ever in his work-roughened jeans, black, tattered long john shirt, and steel-toe construction boots.
“Maybe. But I wasn’t wrong about sitting down in your chair, Wood. These birds are beautiful and the daisies, oh my god. Wait until I tell my sister you can do cover-ups too.” She beamed, twisting her forearm so she could see her brand-new tattoo better.
Wood eased back on his stool and began the procedure of cleaning and bandaging his last client of the day while Trent stood a short distance away and observed him. He’d never get tired of the proud look in his partner’s eyes when he came inside the busy establishment and made himself at home in Wood’s section just to the right of El’s.
When Wood had done Trent’s tattoo, he’d done it with an audience standing around him, all wanting to see him in action. Surprisingly, the moment he turned the equipment on and felt the machine vibrating in his palms, all of his training and skill came flooding back to him. As he gazed down into the eyes of the man he loved, he felt no nervousness. His hand was steady, his colors swarming and settling into place perfectly as he glided the needle over Trent’s virgin skin. And Trent had honored his promise and allowed Wood to create a design that was original and inspired by him.
Wood answered the few questions from his client, then sent her to the front counter to pay. He spun on his stool and winked at Trent, earning himself a salacious look in return. He sanitized his station, then waved Trent over. Once he was settled, Wood reclined the chair and slid his stool in. Trent raised his shirt with little preamble, proudly showing Wood his first tattoo after seventeen years. He pulled his partition closed before he bent forward and took Trent’s lips in a long, desperate kiss as if it’d been longer than the mere twelve hours they’d been apart.
“How was work?” Wood broke apart briefly to ask, not giving Trent time to answer before he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth.
“Mmm,” Trent moaned. Always so vocal.
“Shhh. You don’t want anyone to think the old guy is being unprofessional, do you?” he teased.
Trent gripped the base of his neck and held him down, devouring his mouth more quietly. “What time you getting off? Not too late, I hope.”
“Are you worried about us making it to service on time in the morning or… you want something else?” Wood smiled. They’d continued going to the LGBTQ church on Sundays, and Trent was enjoying it so much that he got disappointed if Wood was too tired to go.
“Both.”
Wood checked his watch. “I won’t have to be here much longer. El’s wrapping up now, but he wants me to look over some new additions to a sleeve he’s working on.”
“That guy acts like he can’t make a decision without you now,” Trent hissed quietly. Wood knew he wasn’t jealous, but Trent wasn’t shy about wanting his time with him in the evenings and fussing anytime El infringed on it.
“I’m not complaining. Especially about the money.” Wood linked his fingers with Trent’s where he held him at the nape of his neck. They quietly kissed a little longer before Wood draped a couple of clean hand towels over Trent’s chest to make sure he didn’t get him wet.
“We won’t be bowling long, maybe a couple games. Bishop’s too good, it’s no fun playing with him anyway.” Trent sucked his teeth.
“It’s not supposed to be about winning or losing, brat. You’re supposed to be having some good-natured bonding time,” Wood said, having a difficult time keeping a straight face as he did. He took a new cloth out of the wrap and dredged it in the warm water he’d filled in the sink at his station. He added a few drops of green antibacterial soap to the liquid as he checked the healing tattoo for any excessive scabbing or infection.
“Well, someone needs to fuckin’ tell Mike and Bishop it’s just a good-natured game. Those two are insane. I just end up eating nachos and drinking beer while they pretend like they’re competing in the goddamn National Bowling League,” Trent grumbled, unable to hide his smile.
Wood knew Trent was glad he no longer avoided developing a closer relationship with Mike and Bishop and instead accepted the three of them for what they were… a family.
Trent bit his bottom lip, his gaze raking over Wood’s chest that was partly visible under his button-up. He raised his hand and reached inside, brushing his knuckles along the hair over his right pec, his calloused fingers grazing his nipple.
“Stop it,” Wood growled with little heat. He continued to wash Trent’s chest, trying to pay attention to his task. This wasn’t a service he provided all his clients, of course; this one was special. Everyone else was responsible for their own aftercare when they left the shop unless they noticed a warning sign.
“I want you to fuck me on the counter tonight,” Trent whispered as he stared down his body at his tattoo that glistened gorgeously when it was wet. “Hard.”
As usual when Trent was there, Wood battled to obey the rules, and not steal erotic moments behind his curtain. But his partner had him acting as if he was ten years younger than he was. He released a low moan, his dick pulsing in his jeans. “Watch your mouth.”
“Make me.” Trent smirked naughtily, trying to undo Wood’s shirt to the third button.
“Wood. I know which one I want,” Mike blurted, rudely yanking Wood’s divider to the side, effectively ruining their mood. “I like the Japanese lettering with this cherry blossom field. That’s bad as fuck, man.”
Wood turned and glared, but Mike’s eyes were glued to a page of one of Wood’s portfolios he kept in front of the shop for customers to browse. Even after all this time, his landscapes would forever be in demand. “I’ll take a look in a second. Let me finish.”