A Taste of Ink by Daniel May

Author:Daniel May
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mm romance, gay romance, mm romance kinky, mm taboo romance, mm romance dark, gay erotica, kinky gay romance, kinky romance, gay bdsm, contemporary romance, erotica, kink, kinky erotica, bdsm, bdsm romance, contemporary gay romance, lgbt, lgbt erotica, kinky lgbt, tattooed
Publisher: Daniel May
Published: 2020-12-20T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIVE

It was a few more hours before Zee left the house. He needed to stop into the office, he said, kissing Trinket on the cheek. He would be back later. They would heat up last night’s dinner, have the meal they had interrupted for themselves.

Trinket said he loved him, kissed him goodbye.

And then he dug the business card out of his wallet and called Mini.

Mini answered breezily on the third ring. “Yeah,” he said. “Who’s this?”

“Trinket. Trinculo — Trinculo Gao.”

Mini was silent on the other end for a moment, then gloated thickly.

“That was fast,” he said.

Trinket found his tongue tied; he had no idea how to have this conversation, he realized. He wasn’t even sure what conversation they were having.

“How’d the anniversary go?” asked Mini.

“Good,” said Mini, then blurted out, “He pulled my hair.”

It was an absurdly TMI thing to say to a stranger, over the phone with no preamble, but Mini had pulled his pants down and sucked his dick with no preamble. Trinket felt almost entitled to shove the information in his face.

“I’m happy for you,” said Mini. “Is that why you're calling? To update me on your happy sex life? Or are you calling because he didn’t fuck you right and you still need taken care of? I might have a slot this afternoon.”

“No,” said Trinket — firmly, he thought. “You were right about the tattoos. I want another.”

Mini paused. “You know, if you’re thirsty, you can just say so. I would absolutely fuck you. You don’t need to dance around it, and honestly, I’d rather get to the point than spend an hour of foreplay pretending to consult on a tattoo. I have actual paying customers to deal with.”

“No, I mean it,” said Trinket. “I want another. He wants me to get another.”

Mini paused again. “You grew out your hair for your man, got inked for your man, now you wanna do it again, huh? What this time? Does he want his name as a tramp stamp? ‘Property of X’ tattooed right above your ass?”

“It’s not like that,” said Trinket, though he didn’t know what it was like, if not that. Mini wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t right, either, Trinket told himself. What he wanted... it was elevated beyond the level of ‘tramp stamp’ of ‘property of.’ It was better than that. Or it was worse. Either way, it was more complicated. The stakes were higher. “Are you saying you won’t do it?”

“Hell, no,” said Mini. “I love this fucked up shit. And I like getting paid. But I also know the second you hang up, you’re going to snap back to your vanilla reality. You’re still riding the high of your first day in the fast lane, babe. Now you think you wanna live there. I’m telling you you’re wrong.”

Trinket’s cheeks flamed — with anger, he realized. “You don’t know anything about me,” he said.

“You ever let that boyfriend of yours drag you around on a leash?” asked Mini. “You ever play rape?”

“Jesus,” said Trinket.

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