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“I think I pinched a nerve,” said Clint, screwing up his face as he managed to heave himself the rest of the way onto the couch. Every limb trembled, and he clenched his jaw as his teeth threatened to chatter. His side ached, his skin tingling as it flared pink under his gaze. Sometimes it felt like he was still in the past—still on fire.
“Uh-huh.” Maddy crossed his arms as he took a seat of his own.
There were a few inches between them, and Clint had the strangest urge to close the gap. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the fleeting thought. Maddy was not his type in the least, and Derreck would probably murder him if Clint made a move on his sub. Just a hug?
“What are you doing here so early?” asked Clint, once his voice was finally a bit steadier. “I’m not paying you overtime.” That was a joke. Maddy wrote his own damn paychecks after Clint had maybe forgotten a few times. He paid himself what he wanted, and Clint signed on the dotted line. When it wasn’t enough, Clint made sure to add an extra zero.
“Derreck was just getting back home, and he woke me up with cold hands,” said Maddy, shrugging as he continued to flick his gaze up and down Clint’s body. “I blew him, but I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I thought I would work on cleaning up the Feel room after that fiasco last night.”
Oh man. Clint let out a groan, letting his head fall into his hands. “I forgot about that.”
Maddy widened his eyes, raising one eyebrow. “How? I mean, that was a literal shit show.”
Yep. That was one membership that Clint was terminating with extreme prejudice. There was a reason he had themed rooms for certain kinks. Just another asshole stomping on the rules.
“I’ll take care of it. Let me set out the impact stuff first. Keady pulled a cleaning shift last night, and they are spotless, sanitized and ready for the next ass.” Whenever I can get my ass off the couch, that is. If he stood now, he would just go down again, even if he was feeling a hell of a lot better.
Maddy’s presence always did that somehow.
“Your mind has been wandering a lot lately,” said Maddy, making no move to stand. “It was worse in the old bar when you were trying to do things on your own. I thought you were doing better here, but now you just seem…different.”
Clint let out a whistle, trying to lighten the mood. “That’s heavy coming from you.”
He wasn’t even trying to be insulting. Maddy was just one of those guys who failed to see optimism sometimes. I’m fine…really.
“Well, you don’t listen to anyone else who says anything.” Maddy scratched his chin where a small flake of dirt came away. He looked at it, a fond smile on his face. “And I used to get like that way before I found Derreck. Maybe you need a scene.”
A choke caught in his throat that he tried to turn into a cough, covering his mouth with his hand. “A scene is the last thing I need. I get to be a part of a dozen of those every day.”
“No, you don’t,” said Maddy, sending him a fierce look that was probably the sole reason people didn’t mess with him, even when Derreck wasn’t around. “You watch…that’s it. I spent my whole life watching people and wondering why nothing made sense. I didn’t actually become a person until I met Derreck.”
Heavy. Clint grimaced, shaking out his hand when his fingers started to tingle again. His hands hadn’t even been burned that badly, and they didn’t have scars, but the nerves were still fucked. “That’s different.”
Maddy let out a humorless laugh before he stood from the couch. “You keep telling yourself that, boss, and someday you might start to believe it.” As he walked away, he paused at the entryway, shooting a look over his shoulder. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got this.”
Chapter Two
Scotland
Tattooing himself was one hell of a bad idea. It wasn’t the pain, which was barely more than a sharp tickle, or the buzz that put some people on edge, either. The big problem was that he’d gotten to a spot that he couldn’t fucking reach.
“Well, that went to hamburger in a handbasket.” He let out a sigh, wiping at the last trail of ink before grabbing for the spray bottle. The hit of cooling liquid was instant, quenching the burn that had risen to the surface of his skin.
It was only supposed to have been a small piece on a stretch of blank skin near his kneecap. He hadn’t planned on giving the rose quite so many petals, and his original placement he’d had in mind for the stem had changed when he’d thought of turning it into a chain.
He’d just been so wrapped up in not messing up the freehand design that he’d forgotten exactly how far his reach was. He hadn’t figured it out until his back and neck had started to protest and the tip of his machine had disappeared out of view.
Now he had a half-piece that was probably never getting finished, and an obsession that belonged to his new machine that he’d found online. His old one had been clunky and noisy, but this tattoo machine fit easily in his hand, the buzzing muted and not quite enough to make his fingers tingle.
I had to try it out first.
He cracked a grin, trying to catch sight of where he’d trailed off. His skin tingled, flushing warm, like he’d spent too much time in the sun.
Of course, even as beautiful and quiet as it was, it was really nothing next to his main obsession. Blue eyes, blond hair and a five o’clock shadow occupied his thoughts ninety percent of the time when he wasn’t focused on his art. The other ten percent was pure private time. No one but a trusted partner was seeing that part of him.
Wiping the area one last time, he reached for his roll of dermal cover sheets, cutting one to size and pulling the paper off. It was pure adrenaline to press it to his open skin, gently smoothing it in place before peeling off the plastic backing. All that was left was a sticky film no thicker than cellophane that would speed his tattoo along to healing.
His skin was hot as he touched it through the film, tracing the fresh lines that were darker than the gloves he wore. It was already weeping in some spots, and soon the ink would spread, turning into a smudged mess that would only be removed when he took the plastic off a day from now.
