Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 7

himself before the marker was on his skin again, drawing lines that continued from the previous ones. Again small pieces of one whole image, and those small pieces felt like silent kisses against Ty's skin. With just a goddamn marker the guy had him close to panting. Except that he wasn't even breathing, and Chase pointed this out while he was moving to make the identical lines on the other side of Ty's hips. "Your face looks a lot better when it's not blue. Breathe."
    Ty let out a fast blow of contaminated air, feeling a little lightheaded and dizzy and his breathing wasn't settling though he tried his hardest. It was nearly impossible to breathe at all when Chase's hand was still pulling Ty's jeans out of the way, close to pulling them away completely and therefore close to exposing what little was left hidden of Ty's aching and increasingly hardening shaft. And just when Ty swallowed for the second time, almost pleading for the guy to either stop or fast forward to the point where he would rip off everything and get it on, Chase pulled back and gestured towards the mirror.
    Ty looked at his reflection, this time turning towards the mirror very slowly because he was afraid any rapid movement might blow his testicles to another galaxy. He still couldn't quite understand how Chase managed to make something as simple as tribal lines look like they were painted with water-colors on to a white sheet. Very harmonic, very delicate. Almost poetic though they were far from it. And Ty knew they would eventually look even better, because a red marker did nothing to him, whereas black ink did multiple things.
    Six lines lunged towards his shaft, three on both sides of his hips. The lines were fairly narrow, but the farthest ones swirled just above his hipbones so Ty knew they would hurt, and not necessarily in a good way.
    "You approve?" Chase asked, already standing up and heading for his desk that was filled with items Ty couldn't even recognize. But he wasn't interested in what was on that table because he was too mesmerized with what he was seeing in the mirror. It wasn't just the lines or the fact that it was going to hurt like hell.
    Ty hadn't allowed anyone this close to his body in a long, long time. It had taken him a while to get over his past relationship, one that had lasted for three years and had ended with bitter feelings and even more bitter verbal abuse, and even after he had managed to get over that he had kept his distance. Except here. And here he wasn't sure what he was doing because while he knew he liked the pain, he was beginning to wonder if he possibly liked other things too.
    "Hey?"
    Ty's eyes shot up at the man standing behind him now, the one who was a few inches taller than him and perhaps a little wider by his shoulders, but who somehow seemed to conquer Ty without doing a thing. Their eyes met through the mirror again, one set firmly hooked on another, and for a moment Ty completely forgot he was standing in a tattoo shop in broad daylight with his jeans wide open and his cock barely hidden, because all that seemed irrelevant. He might as well be in a pitch black room with no one but Chase, because that was how he felt now. And feeling that way was surprisingly easy.
    "They're good."
    "Oh…just good? Clearly I haven't done myself justice if that's all you've got to say," Chase grunted, obviously not satisfied with the response. And since Ty had given him high praise so far, could he blame the guy? But he was somehow unable to say anything else now, because words were bound to fail him. Suddenly he was sucked inside something he couldn't name and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was still feeling his lower parts a lot better than any other parts of his body.
    Ty stepped towards the table placed on the other end of the small room. "Really good. Looks…really good."
    Yep…fail it is. But Chase didn't comment on his decreased vocabulary and he didn't make it his business to make sure Ty was okay though Ty wasn't sure if he was. Instead he got on the table and settled on his back when Chase gestured him to do so. And again he felt the ember of desire in his core when the familiar sounds filled the room; packages getting opened, water running, soft rustling of the towel and plastic packaging, things getting places on the table next to the one Ty was lying on.
    "You need to pull your jeans lower," Chase said somewhere to Ty's right. And he did as told, yanking the denim lower on his hips,