Savior:A Tattered Club Story(17)

Ethan moved onto his side, grateful to hide the scars Niko had been touching. No one had ever touched his stomach. For one, the scars were usually in various stages of healing and, two, no one cared to.

He tugged on the zipper and shimmied his hip a little to pull the waistband of his shorts down. “Is that far enough?”

“Jesus Christ,” Niko mumbled before the hum of the gun sputtered on and off. Jay Z played softly in the background as the gun fired up again. “Relax and breathe. Let me know when you need a break. Lift your head.”

A pillow was shoved under Ethan’s head. “Thanks,” he said, closing his eyes then opening to focus on the bright artwork. Had Niko painted the pictures or had someone—“Holy shit!”

Niko grunted and laughed. “The first bite is always the worst. Talk to me. It helps.”

Ethan did his best to breathe like Niko had said, but the tiny piercing spikes took the air out of his lungs. “I never...took you...for the talking type.”

“Yeah, well.” Ethan felt the drag of a paper towel skim across his heated skin. “I’m not. Sometimes I’m a therapist and shit when people are in here.”

“I don’t need a therapist. Is this supposed to hurt this bad?”

“Yeah, I’m sticking a needle in your skin.” The hum of the gun slowed. “It hurts this bad. It gets easier.” Waiting for the easier, Ethan sank his head deeper into the pillow. “So, you going to tell me about the old guy in the car or am I gonna have to imagine why in the hell he’s got you by the balls? I know who he is. I’ve seen him in Monthly Business Journal. The Professor keeps issues in the lobby. What is a nineteen-year-old kid doing fucking the biggest married real estate asshole in the city?”

“Separated real estate asshole,” Ethan said, annoyed that Niko would bring it up at all. The needle scraped across his skin, sending stinging ribbons along the top of his hip. “Next subject.”



*****



Niko rinsed the gun in a cup of clean water. How in the hell did the kid get himself in such a shit situation? The way he’d snapped was clear he must’ve been pretty desperate. Most guys wanted up after an hour for a smoke or stretch, but not Ethan. Niko was impressed. Not a slight movement. The three hours that had passed in what felt like a second.

Niko hung his head. After the bonehead comment, Ethan had clammed up and his opportunity to get to know him was shot out the fucking window. Why did he care? It wasn’t like they were friends. Hell, they barely knew each other and now he was going all pussy ass wanting to know the guy.

Fuck. That.

“You can get up. We’ll stop for today. That’ll need two weeks to heal then we can put the color in. The lines and shading are done.”

Ethan sat up, stretching his arms when he scooted to the edge of the mattress. “That wasn’t so bad. You were right, after a while it didn’t sting so badly.”

The rim of his shorts hung loose as he slid off the table. Ethan’s hands disappeared when he zipped his pants. Damn, what did that cock look like? From the way his shorts had given the hi-how-are-ya, the kid had nothing to be ashamed of.

Niko popped off the black latex gloves and tossed them on the rolling side table. His fingers were vibrating, and it had nothing to do with the gun he’d just held for three hours. As Ethan turned to grab the T-shirt half draped across the chair, Niko fought the urge to punch the wall. The red and pink strips on Ethan’s flat stomach broke the contrast of an otherwise perfect canvas.

Instead of beating the shit out of the counter, he studied the tattoo on Ethan’s side. The tip of one of the anchor’s hooks hung down barely touching the front of Ethan’s slim hip. The creamy color of his skin took the ink just as Niko had imagined it would, and the feel...the dip of that lean waist curved as his gun had glided to where the design was laid out.

Even through the thin glove, heat had radiated through his fingertips. His cock had been stone hard as soon as Ethan rolled onto his side and the red elastic of his underwear peeked out.

Niko shook his head forcing the dark thoughts to escape. Trying to focus on the cleanup, his gaze gravitated toward the delicately defined muscles of Ethan’s back. The guy was all lean sinew leading to a tapered waist. Niko had to work out to get the six-pack lining his abs, but with a metabolism like Ethan’s, it obviously came naturally.

Niko fought the urge to rip the T-shirt from those slender fingers and toss it in the trash. Those fingers needed to be wrapped around a cock, not a flimsy shirt. A hard, long, thick—

“So, how do we do this?” Ethan asked, breaking Niko into a thousand pieces when the thought ripped out of his head. He imagined filtering his fingers through the guy’s soft light-brown hair, messing the strands as if the guy had just rolled out of bed. “I mean—”