Here for You (27 page)

Before Ian could speak, Krista approached him again. “Find anything you like?”

“Yes,” Ian said, staring right at Cole, thinking how beautiful he was. “But I’m still not sure on the tattoo.” Slowly, he rose to his feet. He kept his gaze focused on Cole.

Shit.
Was he really about to do this here? In front of a bunch of strangers at a tattoo parlor? It seemed he was. Ian noisily cleared his throat. The bald man looked up from his Kindle, sensing something. The others were too busy texting or counting their money to pay him any attention.

“Cole,” Ian said.

“Yeah?” Cole frowned slightly, giving him a quizzical look. “Are you changing your mind?”

“No. I want a tattoo. But more importantly, I want you.” Ian’s voice deepened. The girl with the neck tattoo was now listening. Ian fought the blush he knew must be heating his cheeks. “I love you.”

Ian felt exposed and more vulnerable than he’d ever felt in his life.

“Awww!” said one of the middle-aged ladies, clutching her heart.

“Go for it, man,” said the bald, muscled guy.

“Does this mean you want an ‘I love you’ tattoo now?” asked Krista. “’Cause you pay by the letter.”

Only Cole had said nothing, his mouth opening and closing, opening and closing.

“I love you,” Ian said again, his gaze on Cole’s, his tone confident and strong even as his heart turned over.

He waited for Cole to answer. It must have only been a minute, but it felt like an eternity. Ian’s heart compressed. His stomach knotted. His knees threatened to buckle.
Oh Christ, he’s not going to say it back. It was too soon—we only just made up. Oh God, I should have kept my mouth shut.

Ian’s heart began to go into a tailspin.

But then Cole smiled. “I love you too,” he said thickly. “Oh God, do I!” Cole made a noise of joy and leaped into Ian’s arms. “I think I’ve loved you forever.” He kissed Ian’s lips, his jaw, his neck. “I can’t believe you love
me
.”

“Believe it.” Ian smiled and lowered his mouth to Cole’s. They kissed, Cole’s firm lips on his, his lips parted letting Ian taste him, and Ian placed his palms on the sides of Cole’s face and kissed him.

The room full of strangers all clapped. Even the jaded tattoo artist peeked out from his room to see what the commotion was about and gave them the thumbs-up.

When Ian pulled his mouth away, Cole grinned at their audience. “He loves me!”

“We heard, honey.” The middle-aged lady grinned back. “Now tell your man to put a ring on it.”

“Not legal in the fucking Sunshine State,” griped the bald-headed guy. “Or I would have done it years ago.”

“It will be legal soon,” said the young girl.

“Fellas, as sweet as this whole thing is, I do have other appointments.” Krista’s little elfin face reflected annoyance as her voice grew impatient. “Are you getting the tattoo or not?”

“Yes, he is,” Cole answered. “We both are.”

“B
UT
YOU
hate needles.”

“Shut up, Ian. I’m doing this.”

“Yes?”

“Yes, damn it.”

But in his mind, he saw blood. Cole’s stomach roiled.
Needles and blood.

“But you’re scared of them.”

“Shhh! That was told to you in confidence.” Cole glanced at Krista, who was laying out the equipment. She told them at first they didn’t have time for two tattoos, but all the customers around them had graciously offered to wait.

“It’s their day,” said the young girl.

So here they were, about to get tattoos together.

“Just promise to hold my hand,” Cole said.

“Like I have a choice? You have my fingers in a death grip.” Ian smiled, squeezing his hand lightly.

Did it hurt? Maybe it didn’t. Or maybe it was sharper than a knife? God. Now he did want to throw up.

“Everything will be fine.”

“I know.”

“It won’t hurt my feelings if you change your mind on the tattoo. As long as you don’t change your mind about loving me, we’re all good.”

“Not possible.” He started to reassure Ian, when Krista began to swab his skin. “Crap, crap, crap.” Cole panted. “I want to, but….” His voice was high and tinny. His muscles clenched.

It did not help that Krista asked him at that exact moment, “Do you have a heart condition, or are you on any blood thinners?”

“No.” Cole cleared his throat. “No, I’m good.” But he had to squeeze his eyes shut and practice a deep breath.

“You sure?” she asked.

“Uh-huh.” Cole opened his eyes. He forced a smile.

Krista started to read the next question off her checklist when Ian stopped her.

“Can you give us a minute, please?”

“All right.” She gave Cole an assessing look. “Be back soon.”

After Krista went out of the room, Ian asked, “Do you want to forget it?”

“No.”

“Cole—”

“It’s not the pain that’s frightening,” Cole told him. “It’s the idea of needles going into me.”

“Why do needles scare you?”

Cole locked eyes with Ian. “When I was six or seven, one of my mom’s loser boyfriends shot up in front of me.”

“God!” Ian looked shocked. “That’s awful.”

“He was all strung out. I remember his greasy hair and lank, twitching body, his sour odor. He didn’t notice me, but when he started doing that, I got so scared…. And I remember how it all looked. He’d tapped at his skin frantically, like a rat scurrying for a hole, looking for a spot he hadn’t used already, a vein, before tying a band around his emaciated arm. He’d pushed the needle in, groaning and stomping his foot. His eyes rolled to the back of his head. I fled the room. I’ve loathed the sight of needles ever since.” Cole smiled thinly. “I never told anybody this story before. I always felt embarrassed.”

“Don’t. I understand.” Ian hugged him close. “You can skip this.”

Cole hugged Ian back. “No, I want to try. If I chicken out, then… I’ll go to the waiting room. But I want to try.”

Krista came back, and Cole explained some of his fears. Surprisingly, Krista showed some compassion. She let Cole hold the gun, and he saw it wasn’t like the needles he remembered from his mother’s junkie boyfriend. In fact, it was nothing like the images that triggered his phobia.

“The gun is kind of cool-looking.” He grinned for real this time.

“Yes, and not that painful too, not like in your mind.” Krista gestured to the tattoo gun. “To have some nerves and basic adrenaline is normal, but if you feel more than that, we won’t go ahead.” She went on to explain the procedure and each step.

“And I’ll go first. You can watch me and decide about what you want.” Ian’s gaze, so full of empathy, made Cole’s irrational fears lessen instantly.

“I can handle it.”

Ian smiled softly. “I believe you.”

They released their joined hands, so that Krista could work on Ian.

“When it’s your turn, Cole, I’ll hold your other hand, I promise.”

As Krista swabbed his shoulder with antiseptic, Ian continued to smile at him.

Ian, of course, had been totally relaxed as Krista used transfer paper to pinpoint exactly where to place the tattoo. For a second, his smile faltered, but only a little, as the machine started to buzz, but Ian didn’t say a word, and as Cole watched, his tension eased. It did not look like a junkie with a needle. And if Ian was getting the tattoo, so could he.

“What’s the procedure for aftercare?” Ian asked. His voice sounded calm.

“It might bleed a little. Just keep the cling film on for a few hours, keep it all sterile, and use some antibacterial ointment. Let it breathe and then wash it with warm water and the antibacterial soap. Pat it dry. Use our tattoo cream on it. We recommend After Inked. You guys won’t have any troubles if you do all that. No worries.” She did some more work. “Okay, all set. What do you think?”

“Wow. I love it. Cole! Look at it.”

“No, no. I’ll look later….” Cole sucked in some air. Honestly, he wanted this, but it was
not
easy for him. “Let’s just do me.”

“Breathe,” Ian advised. “It’s going to look fantastic.” He reached for Cole’s other hand, threading their fingers.

Ian didn’t let him go.

Cole braced himself. The tattoo would start at his shoulder and go down to his elbow. Why had he and Ian chosen that? How he wished he’d picked a small rose on his ass or something. Jesus.

“Here we go!” Krista said with her hands on his arm. “Are you okay? If not, I won’t do it. Is it only nerves now?”

Cole looked at Ian and at his tattoo. Then Cole smiled. “Only nerves. That’s fucking beautiful. I want to do it.” He nodded at Krista. “Go for it.”

Ian talked softly to him the entire time, murmuring endearments or gentle words of encouragement. It did not feel like a knife at all. It was more of a burning sensation as the laser did its work. It hurt,
hell yeah
, but it was tolerable. Actually, he was surprised and relieved he got used to it after the initial moments of pain. Cole kept on reminding himself he was
almost
done, almost done
. When the sensations stopped, Cole bravely opened his eyes. Ian was right there, his face full of pride and love.

Yes, love.

Ian loves me.

That was worth anything.

T
HE
MORNING
after their tattoos, Ian woke wrapped in Cole’s arms. He snuggled Cole, inhaled his scent, and sighed. It was so damn good. When Cole woke too, giving a cute little yawn, neither hurried to get out of bed. Instead, they lingered and talked. At first they spoke of silly things, like action movies and ice cream toppings.

Pretty soon, though, they turned more serious.

“I’d like to try college,” Cole confided shyly. “Even part-time. I don’t plan to quit the bar or anything, but I’d like to take some English courses.”

“Do you want to be a writer, then?”

“I don’t know.” Cole’s tone was cautiously hopeful. “I’m doing it to learn right now.”

Ian nodded and then smoothed a wayward lock of Cole’s hair from his forehead. “Then do it. Get a planner and figure out your shifts at the bar, then go online and look at the local colleges and—” He broke off when he saw Cole’s giant smile. “Sorry,” Ian said gruffly. “You do it however you want.”

Ian knew he could be exacting—in business and in life—but he hoped this would free Cole up to pursue his own dreams, that Ian’s organization would motivate Cole rather than put him off.

“What is it you want in the future?”

“To build up my law practice.” Ian’s gaze darted away. “Maybe remodel the house.”

He did want to grow the practice, but the rest of it was pretty much a bunch of bull. His house was perfectly fine, but it was difficult to summon the courage to broach the subject of what he wanted in the future. Ian scowled at his own hesitation.

“I want you with me.” Ian shifted closer so they faced each other, curled on their sides, heads close, their mouths inches apart. Ian stroked the line of Cole’s body from his chest down to his hip.

Cole smiled. “I’m right here.”

“No, I want you in my house with me. Move in with me.”

“What?” Cole raised his head off the pillow. His mouth trembled.

Ian touched his lips with a gentle brush of his fingers. “What do you think ‘I love you’ means? I want you here, Cole. I want my home to be your home.”

Cole blinked, not speaking, apparently struck mute. He lay back down and stared at the ceiling before he finally said, “
Oh, Ian.
”

Ian’s heart gave a squeeze in response. Slowly he lay back too, so he could meet Cole’s eyes. “Is that an ‘Oh, Ian, you love the idea’?” he whispered. “Or is it an ‘Oh, Ian, it’s too fast and too soon’?”

Cole snorted. “Both. Neither. I don’t know. It’s a shock. But a good shock.”

“So you’ll move in here?”

“I’ll move in. I can’t quite believe how all this feels—it’s so easy, so natural. I’ve always had to fight for a place in this world.”

“Not anymore.”

Cole met Ian’s eyes. He framed his face between his hands. “No, not anymore.”

A
FTER
THAT
all-important talk, they’d spent hours in a state of total bliss. Mindful of their sore arms, they loved each other gently, light touches, sweet kisses, murmured promises. Ian swore time stopped as they held each other. Cole stretched out on top of him, kissing Ian’s neck. Their bodies meshed firmly together. Ian touched Cole’s back down to the cleft of his ass. He loved making Cole moan, loved grinding up against him, loved slipping his hand between their bodies to stroke him. Cole’s cock throbbed, the skin smooth as it glided at Ian’s palm. Cole clutched him, pleading for more. Ian changed positions, so he could take Cole’s erection into his mouth, taste him. Cole gripped the bed, his hips arching as Ian bobbed his head up and down, licking and teasing, until Cole gave way, shaking and groaning as he climaxed.

“That was… wow.” Cole smiled down at him, his expression full of wonder. It made Ian want to kiss him so badly, and for some time that’s what he did, savoring Cole’s mouth, his lips, liking that Cole must taste his own cum as Ian devoured his mouth. With Cole, Ian could let himself be raunchy or sweet. He could be both at the same time, and Cole accepted it all.

“God, I love you.” Ian’s voice was tight.

Cole breathed out his name in reply. He twisted against Ian, wrapped his arms around him. “Want you inside me,” Cole said.

He shifted, pulling his knees to his chest. Ian looked down at Cole’s spread thighs, his cock, hardening under his gaze, his full balls, his pucker. It was enough to make a grown man whimper. Ian hurried for supplies. He caressed Cole’s rim, his fingers slick with lube, watching Cole’s face as he slipped his fingers inside. Cole’s lips parted, his small keening noises made Ian want to keep him writhing like that, keep him satisfied, and his desire for Cole mixed with his desire to keep on pleasing him too. Ian carefully withdrew his hand, ignoring Cole’s protest. His gaze fixed on Cole’s hole. Ian leaned in. He kissed there, pressing his lips sweetly to Cole. His tongue slid up and down his hole as Cole inhaled ragged breaths.