“Then, this coming Wednesday, you’re going to come into my shop. We’re renovating this week and should be done by then. I’m going to start teaching you about inking. If you have a job, quit. You work for me. You’re mine, Oliver. KC is mine. You both are until I say you’re not.” I dug my nails into the vulnerable skin on his neck, and he whimpered. The sound wove its way straight to my balls, but I wasn’t going to fuck him today. No. I was going to make him wait. Make him crave me. “I’m going to worship you and fuck you until you can’t decide if you hate me or love me. And every time I treat you the way you deserve, you’re going to saythank you,Sir. Am I clear?”
“Fuck you,Sir.” He bared his teeth, and I laughed louder, swiping my tongue over his lips. He nipped at me, but I pulled away in time.
“Such a feral little kitty. Don’t worry, I’ll train you. By the time I’m done, you’ll be licking me gratefully.” I released him, and without me holding him up, he slid down the wall until he all but melted to the floor. “You’ll come to my apartment before the game. We’ll go together.”
Oliver glared but didn’t say anything. He used the wall for balance as he rose and his knees trembled under his weight. Clearly, he’d enjoyed my attention a lot more than I’d expected. Lovely. I wanted him wrapped around my little finger by the time I was done with him and KC.
“Fine.” He raised his chin. “How did you get my number anyway? Did KC give it to you?”
I smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know? Go. Now. Before I bend you over my couch and fuck you again.”
He hesitated, eyes flashing with heat, then snatched his sketchbook off the coffee table and scrambled toward the door. He left in such a hurry, he nearly tripped over his feet.
All I could do was chuckle and give my cock a good squeeze. I couldn’t wait for this weekend. Mind games were the best.
13
OLI
“No, you can’t.” Barber crossed his arms and squared off with me. There was a splotch of shaving cream on his cheek, and he rubbed at it with the wrist of the hand holding a glinting silver straight razor, then went back to glaring at me. A fragrant pine scent hung heavy in the air.
“Yes!” I crossed my arms and glared. “And your Sweeney Todd impression doesn’t freak me out.”
He glanced down at himself and huffed rather than actually laughing. “It’s too fucking early on a Saturday for this shit. You come back Monday and we’ll talk.” He punctuated his words with his razor before spinning back toward the chair, where Jester was patiently waiting, but I grabbed his shoulder. Barber spun back with his hands up, as if he was going to karate chop me or something.
I rolled my eyes. “You can’t tell me no!”
Jester watched us through the mirror, eyebrows raised, which was the same as a “what the fuck” from anyone else, but I didn’t care. There was a sadness in his eyes that usually wasn’t there, but I didn’t know what had happened and I never asked.It was better not to know with the Kings. His evil-smiling Jester tattoo stared at me from his right bicep, the top of its head cut off by his tight-fitting black T-shirt. He stroked his short beard as he watched us.
Barber shrugged. “You’re not allowed to quit. What can I say?” The corner of his lips kicked up into a smirk, but he still looked pissed off.
Jester leaned back with his hands curling over the arms of the barber chair he was sitting in, watching us like we were a particularly interesting sport—or perhaps an annoying one.
I tossed up my hands. “I’m notallowedto quit?”
“That’s right! You’ve worked here too long. You’d be wasted somewhere else. And what is up with these emo, bullshit clothes? Did you go raid Undertaker’s closet? Because I gotta say, they aren’t you.”
Fury blazed a trail through me and I swore my balls hid for a moment. I stomped my foot. “I look great! How is a black T-shirt and black jeans emo?”
“Don’t forget the boots. You’re an emo clown. Are you wearing eyeliner?”
“I’ve seen you wear eyeliner!”
He sniffed. “Yeah, but it looks good on me. You’re too innocent for that shit. And you don’t wear black on black. It isn’t you. That’s the problem. What you’re doing, none of it is you. That’s what makes it suck.”
Jester nodded in the mirror, agreeing with Barber. The asshole!
“How would you know? You can’t tell me what to do. Oh my God. I’m going insane.” I picked up a spray bottle of water off the counter and spritzed it in Barber’s direction because it was either that or start swinging my fists.
He coughed and waved his hand as if I’d used hairspray instead.
The top of my head felt as if it might pop off. Only Barber could make me feel like an actual child. Or homicidal. Well, Barber and Ren. Ugh.
“Listen up, kiddo, I’m your boss. I can and will tell you what to do.”
“I’m quitting,” I snarled. “You can’t refuse that.”
“Why?” He turned back toward Jester but didn’t start doing anything. “This is stupid. Some guy swoops in and tells you that you can be his tattoo apprentice. By the way, what does that shit pay? And you’re just going to leave me high and dry? You can’t!”
