Bass player Dylan is enjoying a few days off in the middle of Mudride's world tour, and the reason he's in this sleepy California beach town is to get a new tattoo from Sam Hyde, inkmaster to the stars. But when he steps into the tattoo parlour and meets Sam for the first time, the attraction between the two men is electric, and can only lead to one thing.
Advisory: This scorching hot short story (3,200 words) contains graphic descriptions of oral and anal sex. Not for under-18s.
The silence in the room was now so thick it was oppressive. It was a relief when the needle started buzzing and biting into his skin. As it danced over his hip, where the flesh was so close to the bone, the pain was unbearable, and he sweated and gasped. The outline was always the worst part, and he didn't want to ask Sam to stop. He didn't want that loss of face. He was bleeding and Sam stopped periodically to wipe away the mingled blood and ink so he could see what he was doing.
As the pain increased, ebbing and flowing rhythmically with the vibrations of the needle, his self-control began to crumble and he lost the ability to think about anything else other than the man whose hand caressed his butt cheek and hot breath warmed his thigh.
His cock was rock-hard, uncomfortably pressed between his stomach and the hard leather table. He was so horny, he felt as though he was going to explode, and he didn't know what would happen when Sam asked him to roll over on to his back again.
Just as he thought he could take no more pain, the needle fell silent and lifted from his skin, and he felt Sam's hand stroke his thigh.
"You need a break. You're bleeding bad, and your body's gonna need some recovery time."
Sam's voice was rough with lust, and when Dylan turned to send a questioning glance in his direction, he could see that the tattooist's eyes were darkening with desire.
He put down the needle and his hand moved around and up the inside of Dylan's thigh, Dylan shifting his position to let Sam's hand slide under him and discover his hardness.
As Sam's hand gripped him, Dylan whimpered softly. It was a relief not to have to fight it any more.
He rolled on to his back and reached for Sam, pulling the other man in towards him for a deep, open-mouthed kiss, biting at his lips and plunging his tongue into Sam's mouth. He couldn't explain it: he'd never kissed a guy before, not like this, but he had to possess this man, every inch of him.
He pulled Sam down beside him on the table, feeling the tattooist's erection rubbing against his thigh through the fabric of his jeans. There was no going back now, and he wouldn't have wanted to, even had it been within his powers.
Their hard bodies wound around each other in a tangle of limbs and muscle as Dylan reached for the waistband of Sam's jeans and ripped them open. He was wearing no underwear, and his massive cock twitched and quivered in Dylan's hand. Sam kicked off his boots, scraping one foot against the other and tore himself free of his jeans.