by Laura Kaye
Jeremy lifted his head wearing a grin and an arched eyebrow. “Seriously? Because it would be cruel for you to tease me,” he said, his expression filling with humor.
“Aren’t I pretty much always serious?” Charlie asked.
Which made Jeremy laugh. “Your sense of humor is wickedly dry, Charlie, but you definitely have one.”
Charlie smiled and shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “Good to know, I guess.”
“So what would this tattoo be if you were to get one?” Jeremy asked, and then he leaned in for a kiss.
“Mmm,” Charlie hummed as he let the kiss distract him. When the idea came to him, it was as perfect as if he’d spent months brainstorming and debating. Because there was one thing that had always held Charlie back in his life. One thing that kept him from having the things he most wanted. Fear. Maybe if he proclaimed his triumph over it, he could actually conquer it. A “fake it till you make it” kinda thing. “Got a piece of paper?”
Jeremy stepped back. “You’re really serious about this?”
The more the idea gelled in his mind, the more serious he became. “Yes.” Jeremy handed him a sheet of paper and a pencil, and Charlie turned to draw against the counter. He converted the letters to numbers in his mind, then wrote them down:
01001110 01101111 00100000 01000110 01100101 01100001 01110010
“There,” Charlie said when he was done. “That’s what I want.”
Jeremy looked at the string of numbers. “Binary code?” Charlie nodded. “What does it mean?”
“No fear,” Charlie said. “Will you do it?”
“Hell, yes,” Jeremy said. “Where do you want it?”
“Somewhere private. Here, maybe?” he asked, gesturing to his side.
“Is this your first tat, Charlie?”
“Yeah.” And no matter what happened between them, the fact that Jeremy was doing his first would always mean the world to him.
Jeremy frowned. “Ribs are likely to hurt more than some other places might. That okay?”
Charlie thought it over for a long moment, but his mind was made up. “Yes.”
Before long, he lay shirtless on a padded table Jeremy had pulled into the center of the room and Jeremy was asking him if he was ready to start.
The first bite of the needle was easier to bear than he expected. Just as Charlie started to think getting a tattoo was no big deal, Jeremy would hit a place that hurt enough to steal his breath. And then he’d move on again.
“Doing okay?” Jeremy asked as he wiped at Charlie’s side.
“Yeah,” Charlie said, loving the idea that this sentiment was going to become a part of him. Then maybe he could actually live it. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Anything,” Jeremy said.
Charlie breathed through a particularly intense area of the tattoo and then asked, “What is your No Regret tattoo for?” Jeremy had the letters inked on the back of each of his fingers. Of all Jeremy’s ink, it was probably the one that most intrigued him, because Jeremy seemed like a guy who was totally satisfied with his life, a guy who had no regrets.
Jeremy continued to work as he spoke, his voice quiet and thoughtful. “Back when I first started working as a tattoo artist, a couple of things happened that made me really look at my life and think about who I was.” He paused to dip the needle in more ink. “The first was that my father was not thrilled with my career choice. He’d always been supportive of my art, but he wanted me to doing something real with it, he said. Like be a graphic artist or go into advertising. We had a couple of rough years over that. Makes me wonder sometimes what he would think of the fact that I used the insurance money from my parents’ accident to buy this place and open my own shop.”
Charlie couldn’t have been more surprised to learn that, like him, Jeremy had struggled to gain his father’s approval. It made him feel even closer to Jer.
“The second,” Jeremy said, continuing, “was that I had a customer refuse to let me do his ink when he remembered seeing me out with a guy at a club. It got pretty ugly, actually, and I was honestly scared that my boss would decide I was a liability and fire my ass. But then Aleck, my boss, ended up sticking up for me, and he became one of my closest friends.”
“Are you still in touch with him?” Charlie asked, hating that someone as kind as Jeremy had been treated so badly.
“He died. Heart attack. It was part of what led me to open my own place,” Jeremy said. “And then the last thing was that a girl I really liked couldn’t handle the fact that I was bisexual and had been with men.” A long pause. “All three of those happened kinda close together, and they shook the ground I was standing on for a while, you know?”
“Yeah,” Charlie said. He could certainly understand how things like that would make you question yourself, even though it was hard to imagine Jeremy, of all people, experiencing a crisis of confidence. One of the things Charlie admired about Jeremy was just how self-assured and comfortable in his own skin he always seemed. What Charlie wouldn’t give to be more like him.
“When I finally got right in my head with who and what I was, I got the tattoo. I wanted to remind myself to live life looking forward, not second-guessing every decision I’ve made and step I’ve taken.” He paused again. “I’m not always successful,” he said more quietly, “but I try.”
Emotion nearly overwhelmed Charlie—admiration, respect, affection, and maybe even something more. Not that Charlie had much experience with anything more, but his gut told him he could very easily fall for Jeremy Rixey. Or, maybe, that he was already falling. “I really admire you, Jeremy,” Charlie said.
“I really admire you, too, Charlie,” he said.
Carefully, Charlie lifted his head and looked over his shoulder to where Jeremy sat. “Why?”
Jeremy paused and his light green eyes absolutely blazed at him. “Are you serious?” Charlie nodded, because he couldn’t imagine what someone would find admirable about him. “Because you are a survivor. And you’re courageous. And you’re good in a crisis. And you’re brilliant. For starters.”
“Oh,” Charlie said, laying his head down again. That’s how Jeremy saw him? Because he sure as hell liked Jeremy’s view of him more than his own. Maybe that was something else he could work on. Right after he conquered the fear thing. It didn’t hurt to dream, did it?
“Can I tell you something else?” Jeremy said after a while.
“Of course.”
“It’s very unprofessional,” Jeremy said, amusement in his tone.
“Okay,” Charlie said, unable to hold back a smile.
“Putting my ink on your skin is making me really fucking hard.”
Charlie’s heart tripped into a sprint, the words heating his blood and engorging his dick. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” After another minute, Jeremy said, “All done.” He wiped down his side and pointed to the mirror. “Take a look.”
Charlie eased off the table and stepped up to the mirror. The line of black characters stretched down his whole right side. His skin was fairer than Nick’s, so the black ink stood out even more starkly. Charlie loved it immediately. “It’s great, Jeremy. Exactly what I had in mind.”
The door clicked shut behind him, which did absolutely nothing to slow Charlie’s racing pulse. Because the more he looked at the tattoo and thought about the fact that Jeremy had done it, the more just the idea of that turned Charlie on, too.
“I’m glad,” Jeremy said, busying himself with cleaning up. He waved Charlie over. “Let me bandage you up.”
Charlie stood in front of where Jeremy sat on the stool. He held his arm out of the way as Jeremy smeared on an ointment and loosely taped gauze pads to Charlie’s side.
“All done . . .” Jeremy looked up Charlie’s body. “ . . . with the tattoo.”
Chapter 7
THE AIR BETWEEN them
sparked red hot, and Charlie was rock hard in an instant.
Jeremy noticed, his gaze dropping to the front of Charlie’s jeans. Without any warning, Jeremy grabbed his dick through the denim and squeezed. “I want you in my mouth, Charlie. I want you hungry and needy and desperate to come down my throat. Can I have you?”
Charlie had never heard anyone say anything so hot in his entire life. With the room spinning around him, Charlie nodded.
Jeremy had Charlie’s jeans open and down around his thighs within seconds. Jer grasped his dick and gave it a long, hard, wet lick from balls to head. A moan ripped out of Charlie. It had been a long time since he’d received head, and the fact that it was Jeremy doing it—sexy, funny, sweet Jeremy—was going to make it really difficult to make this last as long as Charlie wanted.
Another long lick up his length as Jeremy stared up at Charlie’s face, those pale green eyes absolutely blazing at him, and then Jeremy took Charlie into his mouth.
Charlie’s hands flew to Jeremy’s hair.
Jer nodded and pulled off long enough to say, “You do whatever you want. Guide me. Hold my head. Fuck my mouth. Whatever you want, I want.” And then he was on him again, sucking Charlie’s cock deep.
At first, Jeremy sucked slowly as if exploring Charlie, getting a feel for his length. As long as he lived, he would never forget Jeremy’s reaction to seeing him for the first time. Because, damn if it didn’t make him feel good about himself to be so desired by someone like Jeremy. Charlie stroked Jer’s hair as he settled into a slow, delicious, torturous rhythm, one that gave Charlie plenty of opportunity to feel the slick guide of the piercings on Jeremy’s bottom lip.
God, it felt insane. Cold and hard next to warm and soft.
“So good, Jeremy,” Charlie moaned.
And then Jer started moving fast, sucking harder, and taking him deeper. He ran his tongue all over the underside of Charlie’s cock until he was panting and fisting his hands in Jeremy’s hair.
When Jeremy impaled his throat on Charlie’s length, the depth and tightness were so incredibly intense that Charlie shouted and grasped Jer’s head, holding it tightly to him for a long moment.
Jeremy gasped for breath as he withdrew. “Yes,” he moaned as he looked up at Charlie again.
Those eyes—and that look—would make up the stuff of Charlie’s dreams for the rest of his life.
Alternating between fast and shallow and slow and deep, Jeremy sucked him better than anyone ever had in his whole life. And the intensity of the sensations, the piercing gazes from those green eyes, and the sheer knowledge of who was making him feel this combined to shove Charlie way too damn quickly to the edge.
“Oh, God, Jeremy. I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come.” He hung on the edge for a long painful moment, and then he was falling, flying.
Looking up at him, Jeremy took him in deep and swallowed everything Charlie gave him. Jer stroked with his hand as he sucked, drawing the orgasm out until Charlie could barely stand.
When Charlie’s body finally settled, they worked together to pull Charlie’s jeans back up around his hips. Then Jeremy rose and kissed Charlie’s cheek, his jaw, his lips. “Fucking loved doing that.”
Charlie grasped Jeremy’s face and kissed him deeply, tasting himself inside the other man’s mouth, feeling the bite of his piercings, and hoping he could somehow find a way to communicate everything Jeremy was making him feel.
He could start by returning the pleasure Jeremy had given to him.
Sucking Jeremy’s tongue deep into his mouth, Charlie grasped the button fly to the other man’s jeans and tugged the buttons open. Jeremy gasped as Charlie gripped and stroked his cock. Remembering the way Jeremy had groaned earlier in the day, Charlie swiped his thumb over the piercings on the head of his cock, loving being the cause of the pleasured sounds ripping out of Jeremy’s throat.
He didn’t ever want them to end.
“Wanna know a secret?” Charlie whispered around the edge of the kiss.
Jeremy raked his hands through Charlie’s hair and his lips quirked up. “Sure.”
Charlie broke the kiss but stayed close, his nose still touching Jeremy’s. “I don’t have a gag reflex.” Just saying that out loud made Charlie’s pulse race. He might’ve had a lot of insecurities, but there were some things about which Charlie was absolutely confident. Pleasuring another man with his mouth was one of those.
“Jesus,” Jeremy rasped. “A ten-inch cock and no gag reflex. Are you sure you’re not just a dream?” He winked.
Smiling, Charlie shook his head. “I’ve been thinking the same thing about you.”
Jeremy cradled his face and his expression went serious. “I’m real, Charlie. This—what’s happening between us—is real.”
Charlie nodded as a warm pressure filled his chest. Did that mean he wasn’t alone in feeling like this was more than just some stolen moments? And if it did mean that, if Jeremy was feeling more, too, would Charlie be brave enough to have everyone know the two of them were together? Just like Nick and Becca, or Marz and Emilie, or any of the other couples who’d gotten together since he’d been here?
He wanted to be brave. He wanted to live up to Jeremy’s view of him.
No fear.
Right.
Charlie pressed a kiss to Jeremy’s palm. Looking into his eyes, he said, “I want you to fuck my mouth. Just the thought of it is making me hard again.”
Jeremy swallowed hard, as if the words physically impacted him. He flicked his tongue against his lip piercings and his eyes narrowed. “How do you want it?” Do you want to be on your knees at my feet or—”
“I can take you deepest if I lay down on the table and let my head hang off the end.” It was possible Charlie’s heart was going to beat out of his chest. He’d never talked like this—this explicitly, this directly, this honestly—with anyone before. But Jeremy’s words from earlier still echoed in his ears, promising to listen, to give, to meet his needs. It made him feel safe to be vulnerable. To be real. To be himself.
“Get on the table, Charlie,” Jeremy said, his voice like gravel. “Now.”
Holding eye contact with Jeremy, Charlie walked backward until his legs bumped into the table, and then he got on and lay down. He pushed himself toward the end until his head hung freely over the edge, putting his mouth at the same height as Jeremy’s hips.
Jeremy came closer, then leaned down to kiss Charlie. It was a little awkward since Charlie was essentially upside down, but he didn’t mind because Jeremy’s eyes and expression were absolutely blazing with lust and desire.
“Open your jeans and take your cock out,” Jeremy said. “I want to see just how hot this makes you.”
Charlie’s hands moved to obey, arousal lancing through him at Jeremy’s command.
“Fuck, you are hard, aren’t you?” Jeremy stood in front of him and pushed his own jeans down to his knees.
The position gave Charlie a close-up view of the plentiful ink covering Jeremy’s legs. His right thigh had a complicated geometric design all in black, whereas the left had a collision of tattoos that ran from thigh to calf—a compass rose, a wolf, a fierce-looking owl, and more, all tied together with tribal markings and punctuated by colorful flowers.
Jeremy dragged the tip of his thick cock over Charlie’s lips, and Charlie opened as if he’d issued another command.
JEREMY COULDN’T BELIEVE that he was getting to experience this with Charlie, nor that Charlie had been the one to suggest it.
Gently, he pushed his cock into Charlie’s waiting mouth and the sensation was fucking phenomenal. Hot. Wet. Tight. And having Charlie all spread out in front of him, his dick hard and jerking against his belly, just made it all that much more intense.
Rocking his hips, Jeremy penetrated and withdrew until his cock was slick from Charlie’s mouth and begging him to move faster, harder, deep
er.
And he’d thought having Charlie on his table before had made him hot.
He would never be able to look at this table again without remembering this moment. Without thinking of Charlie.
Charlie reached back, grasped Jeremy’s hips, and forced him to go deeper. And the feeling of it was insane, especially when Charlie swallowed and Jer could feel the working of the man’s muscles around the head of his cock. Charlie pulled him so close that he buried his nose against Jeremy’s balls.
“Jesus, Charlie,” Jeremy rasped. He braced his hands against the edge of the table. “That’s fucking incredible.”
When Charlie released his hold, Jeremy withdrew.
“What you said to me earlier,” Charlie said, his hand going to his own cock, stroking and pulling. “Applies now, too. Do whatever you want to do, Jeremy.”
Jeremy pushed into the other man’s mouth again, and it was like something in his brain snapped. He couldn’t hold back. He couldn’t go slow. He couldn’t be gentle. Not for one more moment.
Jeremy fucked Charlie’s mouth, and the moans of approval spilling from Charlie’s throat drove him on. Stroking Charlie’s hair, his cheeks, his neck, Jeremy thrust and retreated until he was groaning and panting and wound so tight, he thought he might shatter. Not just because of the physical sensations. But because of who was making him feel this way.
Charlie.
When Jeremy told Charlie how much he’d admired him, he meant it completely. Even before he’d known his father wasn’t guilty of what they’d all suspected, Charlie had thrown himself into the team’s investigation, helping however he could, denying himself sleep, and giving freely of his expertise. All that, despite the way his father had treated him. That took character. Integrity. Strength.
And then the way Charlie had spoken to Nick earlier, building his brother up and refusing to let the guy tear himself down. Charlie’s words had gone straight to Jeremy’s heart and reemphasized for maybe the hundredth time that Charlie felt like . . . family.
