Permanent Ink by Avon Gale

Author:Avon Gale [Vaughn, Avon Gale & Piper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Published: 2017-07-26T04:00:00+00:00

Jericho

Poe’s friend Kandee, who was to be the recipient of his very first tattoo, was sitting in the chair with her arm outstretched. She was getting the phrase Nevertheless, she persisted on her inner wrist. I could tell Poe was nervous. He was paler than usual, and while he was trying valiantly to hide it, I’d become accustomed to his body language over the last few weeks.

Very accustomed.

The thought of Poe and how we’d woken up this morning, him with his pouty mouth on my cock, me with my hands in his hair—

Yeah. Not the time. Thinking about Poe gave me a half smile and the beginnings of a hard-on. I didn’t want to look like I was laughing at him, but I also knew this was an important moment, and I couldn’t be distracted by lust.

Or the reminder of how it sounded when he called me Daddy.

I couldn’t get over how hot that was, or how much I fucking loved it. I’d always enjoyed the dynamic in porn, but I’d never thought I would ever find someone who wanted to do that with me. Much less someone who brought it up in the first place.

“You look, like, kinda nervous,” Kandee informed Poe.

It made me grin outright to see Poe scowl, toss his hair out of his face, and say, “I told you that you were my first client.”

“You probably don’t want to tell people that.” Kandee glanced up at me. “Isn’t that right?”

“I think honesty’s always a good policy,” I said, with a smile. “But maybe not unless they ask.”

My smile faded as I heard my own words echo in the room. As usual, if I wasn’t thinking about fucking Poe and him calling me Daddy, I was thinking about Poe’s actual father. Landon. My best friend. And the giant lie that was steadily growing between us, even if it was technically one of omission. After all, it wasn’t like Landon had asked me specifically if I was sleeping with his son . . .

I made myself stop thinking about it and focused entirely on Poe and his client. Thoughts of Landon, of sex, of Poe spread out on my bed, begging his daddy to get him off, all faded as he picked up the tattoo machine—mine—and glanced up at me.

I nodded.

“Today, Poe,” Kandee said. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t have a million tattoos, dude.”

“It’s not like I’ve done any before,” Poe retorted. He swallowed visibly, glancing around like he was about to throw the liner down and storm out of the room. Then his shoulders set, his mouth went tight, and his eyes narrowed slightly. He dipped the machine in the ink, turned it on, and went to work.

I could see that he was trying to conceptualize the small space of skin—where the transfer waited on her wrist—as the practice material he’d been tattooing for the last month and a half. But there was nothing quite like tattooing actual skin, which was connected to a living, breathing individual who, no matter how much they wanted to, couldn’t always stay still.

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