After You

by Ophelia Bell

  “Don’t know what you mean.” Lazaro released Maddox’s throat. He stepped backward, sitting on the tattoo chair.

  Maddox eyed him with raised eyebrows, then turned away, leaning on his workbench. He exhaled a deep, ragged breath, and glared over his shoulder.

  “You can make a goddamn appointment like everyone else, you fuck. Instead of coming in here threatening me for doing my fucking job. I have other clients this afternoon.”

  “Cancel those appointments. Give me that tattoo and I’ll make it worth it. I have a proposition.”

  Chapter Three

  Proposition

  Maddox chuckled ruefully, his voice a gruff whisper. “Man, unless you’re proposing to suck my dick, you’d better have a good explanation.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, catching the tail end of a flinch leaving Lazaro’s face.

  “If Celeste is right about you, it’s better than that, trust me,” Lazaro said, avoiding Maddox’s eyes.

  Maddox stared at his scarred knuckles, confused as hell. Not so much by Lazaro’ threat - he’d expected that - but the man’s reaction to their contact surprised him. The universe was fucking with him today, he was sure of it, but the idea wormed its way into his mind nonetheless. If it was something better than getting head from Lazaro, he had to hear it.

  Desperate enough to explore what lay beneath the surface, he turned and leaned back against his work bench, crossing his arms. His eyebrows went up when Lazaro stripped off his shirt, his thick shoulders still obviously tense with the gravity of their earlier conversation.

  “Why did you take your shirt off?”

  “For a tattoo, hermano.”

  “You sure you didn’t mean to take off your pants? Celeste’s tattoo was a little lower, you know.”

  Lazaro scowled. “I want you to do my back. Shoulders. Something the same shape as hers, but different.”

  Maddox took a deep breath, doing his damnedest not to picture the particular shape of Celeste’s tattoo again. He’d had a hard enough time since that day trying not to think about that lovely bit of warm, pliant flesh of hers. Sleep had escaped him on several nights after waking from dreams in which her orgasmic cry pierced his eardrums; dreams in which there was no falsely chaste barrier of silk shoved down just far enough to give his tattoo needle access while still hiding the best part. In his dreams, the fabric melted away and she spread her legs, asking Maddox to go lower. In his dreams the lips and folds of her slick cunt ended up decorated with more beautiful patterns just before he gave in and bent down to taste her. Her flavor reminded him of ripe, juicy strawberries, freshly picked.

  Give him what he came for and let him go, he told himself.

  “So we’re good?” Maddox asked.

  Lazaro seemed to ponder the question on a deeper level than Maddox intended. Before Lazaro’s ruminations got out of hand, Maddox intervened. “Enough for me to give you a goddamn tattoo, I mean. Christ.” He shook his head in exasperation and bent to pick up his scattered tools, checking them for damage.

  The tension left Lazaro’s shoulders and he swiped a hand through his hair.

  “Yeah. We’re good. You’ve never done me wrong so far.”

  Damn right he hadn’t.

  Maddox adjusted the chair and Lazaro lay face down, leaving his bare back exposed. His muscles didn’t relax for a second, unlike every other time Maddox had tattooed the man. He knew he wasn’t afraid of pain, so whatever this proposition of his was, it must be pretty heavy. He’d grown accustomed to the preponderance of unbridled honesty that flowed from his clients once his needles started to dig in, so he knew the talking would come.

  “She likes you,” Lazaro finally said. Maddox grunted over his buzzing tattoo machine.

  “She’s got unique tastes,” Lazaro continued.

  “That wasn’t lost on me, man,” Maddox said. “Are you gonna get to the point?”

  “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her if she asked...” Lazaro wasn’t finished, the unsaid words forming an invisible bubble between his parted lips that Maddox could sense was about to burst.

  “She wants to return the favor.” Pop.

  Maddox paused tattooing. A constricting heat built in his chest and groin simultaneously and his ears perked up waiting to hear the rest. He wasn’t quite ready to suspend his disbelief.

  “I’m listening,” he said.

  “It looks like one of her newest cravings is you, hermano.”

  Maddox chuckled. “You must love that. No wonder you tried to rip my head off when you came in here.” He pulled the tattoo machine away from Lazaro’s back and leaned down close to his ear. “Still doesn’t explain why getting up close and personal made you hard as a fucking diamond. Want to explain what that was that about?”

  Lazaro’s shoulders tilted sideways as he rolled over. His hand whipped up, grabbing Maddox by the back of the neck. The split second collision of mouths and tongues was violent and instantaneous. Lazaro’s tongue shoved into his mouth, thick and hot,. His lips sucked and his teeth nipped. Then it was over as quickly as it began. Maddox sat back, dazed and blinking, wondering if he might have whiplash. He rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head.

  “Fuck.” He stared at Lazaro.

  Lazaro licked his lips, looking just as dazed for a moment, then smiling broadly. Lazaro’s perfect line of white teeth mesmerized him, framed by a pair of lips he’d already spent nights imagining wrapped around his dick.

  Something in Lazaro seemed to give, his body growing languid, his expression… fuck, if it could get more seductive it did, with his low lidded eyes and clenched teeth looking like he was ready to devour something… maybe him. Seeing a man’s inhibitions melt away so thoroughly was something new to Maddox. Usually the men he encountered this way rebelled against it to the point of violence, rejecting their need like it wasn’t a part of themselves already. That’s how he’d done it, anyway. Lazaro’s acceptance was nothing short of electrifying. He felt a pang of envy, wishing he’d had the luxury of that kind of discovery.

  He wanted more. He leaned in again. Just another taste, let me lose myself in this person, someone who wants me.

  A heavy hand pushed back.

  “Slow down.”

  Maddox pulled off his gloves with a harsh sigh, tossing them aside. Tilting back in his chair he groaned and swiped his hands over his face.

  “Fuck!” he yelled. “You and Celeste. Goddamn you both. Do you to have some fucked up vendetta against me? You want to come and torture me with these fucking sex games? ‘Ooh, let’s see how worked up we can make Maddox before he slits his fucking wrists!’”

  He slumped over his knees, his head buried in his hands. His dick throbbed and he cursed it silently.

  Rough laughter reached his ears and he looked up, glaring at Lazaro who sat reclined on the tattoo chair still, slouching on one elbow.

  “Like I said, I have a proposition, hermano.”

  “Anything. Just put me out of my goddamn misery.”

  “What are you doing on Saturday?”

  Chapter Four

  Foreplay

  They arrived at sunset. She wore the blue halter dress, and goddamn did she wear it well. Maddox didn’t bother to hide his admiration. For the first time he had a license to enjoy what he wanted to enjoy. The sudden liberation was intoxicating. He already felt a little drunk and he hadn’t even broken open the Patron yet.

  He opened the door to his shop and let them in. After he locked up, he turned and there she was, smiling and beautiful and smelling fucking amazing.

  “Hello again,” she said, leaning into him. Her lips pressed against his and his hand gravitated down her waist, over the smooth fabric of the dress that covered her ass. Fuck, she felt amazing, too, all soft curves and spicy scent that hit his nostrils while they kissed.

  She pulled away and moved into the room. Still mesmerized watching her pass, he was startled by Lazaro’s strong hand gripping his jaw and a solid pair of lips meeting his, tongue p
robing and asserting dominion.

  “She’s still mine. Don’t forget that,” Lazaro murmured when his lips released their hold on him.

  “Fuck that,” Maddox said, grinning back against Lazaro’s mouth. “After tonight, you’ll both be mine.”

  “Don’t make me regret it,” Lazaro said.

  “Trust me.” Maddox kissed him back in silent challenge, enjoying the way Lazaro leaned in when they parted.

  “Apartment’s in the back, up the stairs.”

  His shabby studio apartment took up the entire second floor of the building his shop was housed in. Its one saving grace was the bank of windows in the back that had a perfect view of the Boulevard, vagrants and all. Maddox thought they added character.

  “Nice place,” Lazaro said. Maddox didn’t miss the subtle taunt.

  “I like it,” Celeste said. “Unpretentious.” She settled onto one of a pair of iron-backed barstools that were the only seating in the entire place and kicked off her sandals, letting her foot bob to the music he’d left playing. Maddox’s eyes transfixed on her flexing toes and the rippling play of muscle up her tanned legs until they disappeared beneath the hem of her short, flowing dress. After his initial caress during their greeting he was pretty sure she hadn’t been wearing panties.

  “Thirsty?” he asked, moving into the galley kitchen. He reached into his cupboard and pulled out his prized bottle of Patron and three mismatched shot glasses, followed by a salt shaker.

  He poured. They drank.

  “Maddox,” Celeste said after sucking a lime wedge dry, leaving him wondering how well her lips worked on other things. “Lazaro told me you have a secret. He wouldn’t say what though.”

  “Oh?” Maddox asked, darting his eyes to Lazaro.

  “All I said was that you were holding back,” Lazaro said with a shrug.

  “Right…” He leaned forward across the bar and eyed them both. “Is it the secret that I get fucking hard as a rock whenever either of you walk through my door?” Understatement was the greatest ruse. His physical reaction didn’t even begin to cover how he felt about them. But how could he reconcile that kind of thing?

  Celeste smiled, apparently delighted by the idea. Lazaro looked skeptical.

  “It’s the truth,” Maddox said. He ignored Lazaro’s scrutinizing look.

  The aroma of limes and fine tequila permeated his nostrils as he poured more shots.

  Celeste tilted hers back, baring her silken throat. Maddox couldn’t take his eyes off it. The perfect line of skin undulated while she swallowed, the movements drawing his eyes lower to her semi-bare chest and the peek of cleavage that teased from the bodice of her dress.

  “Fuck me,” he murmured and tossed back his own in a quick swallow, foregoing the lime. When his head came back down he caught Lazaro’s eyes on him.

  Grabbing the bowl of limes, he made his way around to the other side of the bar and squeezed between them on their barstools. He held one small green wedge up, rind first, to Celeste’s pretty mouth. Her eyebrows drew together in confusion, but her nipples pricked up, pushing at the fabric of her dress. He resisted reaching out and tweaking one just for fun. There would be time for that later. He turned and placed another lime between Lazaro’s teeth, then set the bowl on the bar.

  Turning back to Celeste, he said, “Take off my shirt.”

  Her eyes lit up. Still holding the lime between her teeth she gripped the hem of his shirt. He raised his arms up and let her pull it over his head, then took it from her and tossed it aside. A surprised grunt sounded from behind him.

  His eyes were locked on Celeste’s, whose face had grown concerned while she took in the dark tattoos that graced the entire left side of his chest, covering his considerable collection of scars.

  Celeste’s hand reached out and he tensed at her delicate touch when she traced a finger over his tattoos. Her eyes were devoid of judgment or distaste, and the realization of what that meant to him was as sharp as the fiery shrapnel that had given him the scars. He could see the question in her eyes when she gazed up at him again, but she had the grace to follow the rules, keeping the lime secured between her teeth.

  “It just means I walked through hell and survived. Now I think I’ve earned a little heaven, don’t you?”

  He watched her eyes shift behind him and heard Lazaro say gruffly, “I’m only watching, babe. For now.” He glanced over his shoulder and was greeted by a Lazaro’s smile before the lime went back between the other man’s teeth.

  The smooth skin of her neck beckoned and he bent to kiss just beneath her ear, inhaling her lovely scent. His lips swept over her collarbone, pausing at the top of her cleavage. It was heaven he wanted, and knew precisely where to find it, but he wanted to take his time and savor the journey. He reached up and unfastened the tie at the back of her neck, letting the two ends of her halter dress fall forward, releasing her breasts. She let out a sweet moan when his lips descended further, wrapping around one nipple and sucking. He spent a moment teasing it into a hard, pink peak, then stood up and reached for the salt shaker. He tapped it lightly over the glistening flesh, leaving a sprinkling of white crystals.

  She arched her back when he bent to suck again, her fingernails scraping along the back of his neck. He downed his shot and sucked the lime from her mouth, teasing his lips across hers before discarding the rind. He immediately poured another shot and bent to her other breast, sucked, salted, and sucked again, a second longer than before until he heard a soft moan.

  With deliberate movements he drank the second shot and turned. Gripping Lazaro by the back of the neck, he bit into the lime between Lazaro’s teeth. Excess juice dribbled down their chins. He tossed the spent wedge aside and leaned back in, sucking the juice off Lazaro’s chin, then his lips.

  While they kissed he began unbuttoning Lazaro’s shirt. He shifted behind Lazaro’s seat and continued, teasing his fingertips down Lazaro’s smoothly muscled chest as he went. He watched Celeste’s rapt gaze follow as his hands slipped lower. Disappointment crossed her face when he paused after the last button came undone, pulling his hands back up to Lazaro’s shoulders.

  “I think she likes to watch,” he whispered, his lips tickling Lazaro’s ear. “Let’s give her a little show.”

  He pulled Lazaro’s shirt down over his arms, but didn’t remove it completely. Yanking Lazaro’s wrists backward he twisted the fabric around them, tightly binding him to the decorative iron back of the barstool.

  “What the fuck? Do you think I might run?” Lazaro laughed. “I wouldn’t have come tonight if I wasn’t committed, hermano.”

  Maddox leaned forward, his lips tickling at Lazaro’s ear. “I believe you. I just want to make sure you’re good and ready before we get to the fun part. If you don’t love every second of what we do tonight, you’ll regret it.”

  His hand settled at Lazaro’s waistband. With a deft flick of index finger and thumb he popped open the button of Lazaro’s pants and pulled the zipper down. He chuckled when his hand slipped inside, finding Lazaro damn near ready. Lazaro’s entire body tensed when Maddox palmed his cock tightly and stroked.

  Celeste squirmed in her seat. Before Maddox could offer a suggestion to Celeste, Lazaro spoke up. “Show us your tattoo, babe.”

  Celeste smiled and stood, letting the dress fall in a puddle around her bare feet. A spike of arousal shot through Maddox at the sight of the beautiful tattoo and the memory of that day and all the dreams that followed.

  “Touch yourself,” Lazaro said before Maddox could regain his senses.

  She settled back on her barstool and rested her feet on Lazaro’s knees, giving them both an ideal view of all of her.

  “Like this?” she asked, teasing her breasts coyly with her fingertips, tweaking and pinching her nipples into hard peaks.

  “Lower,” they both said in unison, their voices a rough harmony of lust.

  She slipped her fingertips down her torso with tortuous slowness, finally tracing the lines of her tatto
o.

  “Lower?” she asked. They nodded.

  “Stroke him harder,” she said.

  Maddox obeyed, giving Lazaro’s balls a gentle squeeze and slipping his palm up over his cock, ignoring how much his own throbbed in response.

  She seemed to enjoy it, her eyes fixating on his hand steadily stroking Lazaro. Her head tilted back and she moaned when her fingertips slipped across her clit and rubbed.

  “Goddamn,” Lazaro cursed.

  “I need to fucking taste her,” Maddox said.

  “Do it. Make her come. You tied me up so I can’t.”

  “Damn right,” Maddox said, his attention now laser focused on Celeste’s pussy. He moved to kneel in front of her.

  “Oh God,” she groaned, leaning back. She shifted one leg up onto the counter, barely avoiding knocking the bowl of limes off the edge. Her other foot moved to his shoulder.

  Maddox inhaled deeply, then stole a quick taste, letting his lips slide along her flesh. He slipped his tongue deep inside, enjoying the way she surged against him. The experience was even better than in his dreams. He went to town, sucking her clit, reveling in the taste and feel of her, eager for that moment when she would give into him. Her thighs quivered against his hands and she cried out. Her cry pierced his ears and her fingertips clung to his head while she pulsed against his lips.

  He gave her one last adoring look. Lips glistening wetly with her juices, he stood and turned to Lazaro. One hot kiss with her on his lips and Lazaro reacted. Lazaro’s mouth opened up immediately, a harsh groan escaping him as he kissed back, devouring the kiss as though he were a parched man during a rare desert rainstorm. A small part of Maddox pretended the level of passion in Lazaro’s kiss was meant for him alone and he pressed harder, his tongue probing deeper. His fingers tangled themselves in Lazaro’s hair. Lost in the depth of the kiss, he nearly forgot his purpose until someone’s hands unfastened his jeans and pulled his hard cock out. Then a different pair of hands tugged his pants down from behind. He forced himself back to reality.

  “She untied you. Shame on her,” Maddox said, giving Lazaro a reprimanding look. Lazaro smirked back in response. Maddox reached down to grip the smaller hand that was now stroking his cock and driving him too close too soon. He glanced at Celeste, amused by the impatient look in her eyes. “Might have to tie her up later to teach her a lesson.”