Savior:A Tattered Club Story(4)
“What do you want?”
“I like the phoenix on the wall.” Ethan felt like a specimen looking back through a microscope. Niko’s expression faded. The thin line of his lips tightened.
“No phoenix. What do you want? Answer the question. Don’t think, just answer.”
The cramp in Ethan’s gut tightened. “To be free.”
Niko flipped back to the drawing on the first page and added more lines and smudges to the shapes already on the paper. Ethan tried to peer over to decipher the image, but as soon as he scanned the scratches, Niko closed the notebook cover.
“I’ve got everything I need. When are you wanting to get this done?”
Ethan knew the guy was talented, but wasn’t he going to have a say in the tattoo? The damn thing was permanent. “Do I get to see the design? I like the blue and green phoenix. Maybe we should go with that one.”
Niko pushed the chair back and stood. “That one’s not right for you.”
Ethan swallowed, panicked that the design Niko envisioned would cost three weeks of paychecks from the coffee shop. The envelope in his dresser was filled with bills saved to get the hell out of Charles’s house and sparing more than he’d budgeted wasn’t an option.
“I really appreciate you taking the time to draw—”
Niko walked over to the door and ran his colorful hand over his face as he obviously waited for Ethan’s exit. “See Scarlet on your way out. I’ll give her a price. Two weeks. Work me in on that Thursday around one.”
Ethan shuffled his schedule through his head. He closed on Thursday evenings, so taking the afternoon to get the tattoo done shouldn’t be a problem. And his freshman English comp class was over by ten.
“I can do that.” Ethan stalled as Niko took two steps to slide into the doorway. Was he supposed to try to pass him? Ethan looked down at his sneakers. With a fluttering stomach, he took a step.
Niko didn’t move. Heat flushed Ethan’s face. Being pale sucked when every emotion shouted in various shades of red. Niko’s tight body wasn’t huge like so many men who spent time in the gym, but, God, the peaks and valleys of muscle were cut. Ethan, with his skinny arms and thin waist, wasn’t jealous. He was simply admiring a stunning act of nature in Niko Melikov.
The doorway wasn’t overly small, but with Ethan’s slender body sliding by, heat seeped from one chest to the other, two sets of abs with a sliver of space between them.
Ethan hid his gaze, concentrating on the pattern of tile on the floor. His body tugged on the imaginary force field drawing him toward the heat of Niko’s broad chest. One push, an invitation, and their covered cocks would rub together.
Ethan watched the relaxed expression on Niko’s face disappear as those beautiful elegant lashes flickered. The mask went up, and Ethan immediately regretted pausing in the doorway. He’d totally misread the sexual electricity lingering in the crowded space.
Niko broke his gaze, the flash of two tight fists hanging close to his side caught Ethan’s attention. “Who was the guy in the car?” Not waiting for the answer, he headed into the hall.
What? Ethan scanned the wide hallway as he followed. “Are you asking me?” “There’s no one else in the hallway, so, yeah, I’m asking you.”
This wasn’t the first time Ethan was embarrassed by how low he’d sunk to make ends meet. “He’s um...he’s a friend.” When had he saw Charles?
Niko gave a curt nod. Before Ethan could stutter through an explanation—lie—the hallway opened to the lobby.
“Scarlet will take care of you. See you in a couple of weeks. Wear a loose shirt.”
“I was thinking maybe we could put it on my—”
Niko turned to head back to his studio. “I got this, Ethan.”
Weirdest. Experience. Ever. Ethan stood speechless, watching Niko’s tight ass move beneath a pair of worn jeans before he disappeared into another room. The rumble in Ethan’s stomach echoed. Hoping no one heard the growl, he walked to the counter and unfolded two twenties.
The phone on the desk rang. Scarlet answered. “Hey...are you sure...okay...he’s right here...okay...got it.”
She hung up and clicked the computer keys. “Forty dollars.”
Ethan thought his eyes were going to have to be picked up off the hardwood floor. “Forty? Are you sure? My friend told me his consultation was a hundred.”
“I’m just the messenger. Forty it is.”
Ethan handed over two worn twenties figuring he’d get hit with the big bill after the next appointment.
“Thank you. I have you in for two weeks from Thursday on the nineteenth at one o’clock. Here’s an appointment card. Please come fifteen minutes early to fill out the paperwork and you’ll need to bring a form of valid ID. Any questions?”