Savior:A Tattered Club Story(44)
Yes
I’m not sending you a smiley face or heart
Ethan snorted, catching the attention of the woman sitting next to him. Didn’t think you would. See you tonight.
The large screen at the front of class was filled with notes from the class website. With limited attention, Ethan did his best to keep up with the instructor. Flashes of Niko in his bed had his cock thickening. Moving his legs and scooting back in the chair did little to ease the ache. He had to get this under control before he left a wet spot on the front of his jeans.
His phone vibrated again and he saw the woman’s agitated expression when he slipped the phone from his pocket. If Niko asked to stay the night, he didn’t think he had the strength to refuse the request.
When Charles’s name lit up the screen, Ethan froze.
Five hundred dollars. Be at my house by nine.
Ethan’s stomach soured. He looked up to make sure the professor was still pacing the front talking about Hemingway’s influence on modern writers.
No. Leave me alone or I’ll tell your wife you’re contacting me.
Ethan started to stuff the phone back when it vibrated.
One thousand. I saw your boyfriend. Tell my wife and he’s going to find himself in trouble.
How in the hell did this asshole know anything? He’d heard Charles talk before about being ruthless in business, now he was trying the tactic on him.
No boyfriend so shove your money up your ass. Leave me alone!!
Your choice, my love.
When Charles was calm, there was going to be hell to pay.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Niko tapped the heel of his black leather boot almost as fast as the needle of the gun pierced the woman’s skin. He’d made it over an hour without checking the clock on the wall or his phone. When had he turned into that guy? The one who called his girlfriend to make sure it was okay that he went out with the guys or changed the channel so she could watch The Notebook.
“Are we getting close? I’m excited to see it!” The woman rested her cheek on the towel. “I really thought it’d hurt worse than this, but I guess that’s why you get paid the big bucks. You know how to make your clients feel at ease.”
How? I haven’t said two whole sentences since you lain on the table.
“So, a couple of my girlfriends and I are heading into the city tonight for a party. Would you be interested in coming? I have a feeling after they see you, the night will go wild. You look like you’d know how to take care of a girl…or two.”
When her saccharin laugh seeped over his ears, he almost cringed. Thank God he knew how to hold his shit together or the red rose would look like a fucking stop sign. “Can’t. Got plans.” The fantasy of a naked Ethan covered in suds in the shower made his dick press against the zipper on his jeans.
He kept his hand steady for the last petal, despite the woman’s rambling. “We can make your change of plans worthwhile. I promise.”
Niko didn’t take the time to acknowledge her expression. Instead, he grabbed the bottle of green soap and wiped the residual ink from his masterpiece. “Done.” He snapped off the gloves. “I made the vines longer to come over the back of your hip. It blends the design of the stems to make the piece seamless.” He rolled the black padded stool back to reach up on the counter and grab a tube of ointment. “See Scarlet on your way out and she’ll give you instructions.”
His last appointment was waiting in the cigar lounge, but he had to take a second to check on Ethan or he wouldn’t be able to concentrate long enough to put a damn outline down.
Where you at?
LOL. Out here. Can’t text. Learning a new job.
Ethan was in the shop. Niko looked at the clock on the wall. He’d gotten out of class an hour early.
Tell Scarlet you need to bring me more paper towels. Get your ass in here.
Niko cleaned up the studio instead of focusing on the fact he was a total pussy. He’d decided the moment Ethan had come in his mouth that trying to fight his dark thoughts was useless. At least his thoughts could be kept secret. The guys, and, hell, anyone else for that matter, wouldn’t be able to accuse him of being a sissy fag if they didn’t have proof.
“So.” Seth tapped his hand on the open door. “I have this little problem.” Niko hung his head. Seth always had a little problem.
Like six months ago when he was breaking down a 1984 Rolls Royce he’d bought to customize for resale. A real fuck storm popped up when Seth had discovered the guy who’d sold the car failed to mention there were two bricks of cocaine hidden in a compartment in the trunk. Oopsie.
Seeing as Seth had a criminal history longer than Niko, Seth didn’t want the heat if the Feds were following an open case on the dope. They both knew the game. The asshole who sold the car was flipping the thing to pin the shit on Seth.