Hard to Be Good (Hard Ink #3.5)

  Jeremy ditched his shirt in an instant, and his skin heated at how Charlie’s gaze appeared to drink in all of the art covering Jer’s body. “Look at me,” Jeremy said. Blue eyes cut up to his. “How can I put you at ease? Because you don’t ever have to be uncomfortable with me. You have something to say? I will listen. You want something? Ask. You need something? I will gladly give it. Every damn time.”

  “Okay,” Charlie said, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip. “Then don’t stop.”

  His grin was immediate. “I won’t,” Jeremy said, pressing a kiss to Charlie’s lips, his neck, his collarbone. His tongue flicked at one hard nipple at the same time that his hands fell on the button to Charlie’s jeans. Jeremy dragged the zipper down. Slowly. Together, they pushed his jeans and boxers over his hips.

  “Oh, God.” Charlie’s head fell back against the wall as his erection sprang out into Jeremy’s hand.

  And holy. Fucking. Hell.

  Charlie was hung.

  He had a good ten inches of long, hard, hot cock.

  It was like learning that unicorns were real.

  “Jesus, Charlie,” Jeremy rasped, standing back enough to look down between them. “Your dick is a thing of fucking beauty. Gonna take two hands to stroke you right.” He gripped Charlie’s cock tight in both hands and twisted his wrists as he stroked. Jeremy couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have this monster inside him. Because while he’d savored the pleasure of another man’s cock in his mouth, he’d never bottomed before. He’d never been serious enough about another man to give that part of himself away.

  The groan that ripped from Charlie’s throat as Jeremy worked his hands up and down his shaft was the sweetest thing. “Wait, wait, wait,” Charlie said. “You’re gonna make me come.”

  Jeremy grinned and gave Charlie a lingering kiss. “That was sorta the plan.”

  “But I . . .” Charlie swallowed hard and his hand tugged at the fly to Jeremy’s jeans. “ . . . want you to, too.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Charlie said. He managed to pull the button fly of Jeremy’s jeans open with just the one hand, and then Jeremy pushed his jeans down over his hips. Charlie’s gaze tracked his every move. “Oh, hell, you go commando. And you have a . . . a . . .” Wide eyes flipped up to Jeremy’s.

  Jeremy winked and took his dick in hand, stroking it as Charlie watched. He was shorter than Charlie but thicker, and two rings, one a blue circular barbell and the other a silver captive bead ring, hung from the tip of his cock. “A Prince Albert. Well, two of them.”

  “Didn’t that hurt?” he asked, his gaze locked onto the movement of Jeremy’s hand.

  “Not too bad. And it made me so much more sensitive that it was worth it.” Jeremy flicked his thumb over the piercings on an upstroke.

  “Can I . . .” Charlie reached a hand toward him.

  “Yes. Touch me,” Jeremy said, pulling Charlie’s fingers closer. A groan ripped up his throat at the first warm, firm grasp of Charlie’s hand around his cock. “Fuck, yes.” His own hand grasped Charlie’s hard length again, and then they were jacking each other off as they alternated watching their hands move with breath-stealing kisses until Jeremy was sure the room spun around them.

  Pre-cum coated their tips, and the way Charlie’s thumb swiped over Jeremy’s head, catching the PAs every time, shoved Jeremy right to the edge.

  “God, I’m not gonna last much longer,” Jeremy said, his other hand cupping Charlie’s balls.

  “Me either,” Charlie whimpered. “It’s too good.”

  Jeremy sucked Charlie’s tongue deep into his mouth, mimicking what he wanted to do to the man’s cock. Next time. Because there would most definitely be a next time.

  The moan that started low in Charlie’s throat was desperately urgent, and Charlie pulled his mouth free from Jeremy’s. “Oh God, coming. Coming.”

  “Looking at me when you shoot,” Jeremy said, his heart absolutely racing. “Because I’m going to be right there with you.”

  “Aw, now, now. Jeremy.” Charlie’s eyes blazed with lust and pleasure and desire as the orgasm washed over him. He came against Jeremy’s hand, his arm, his stomach.

  Watching Charlie’s ecstasy and feeling the warmth of his seed paint his skin was more than Jeremy could take. He came on a strangled yell, and watched as his cum marked Charlie’s fair skin.

  God, that was so fucking sexy.

  A deep masculine satisfaction roared through him, and it made him want to mark and claim Charlie again and again. In any way. In every way. An odd thought for someone who’d never had more than casual encounters with men before.

  Charlie collapsed against the wall, his chest heaving and his face more relaxed than Jeremy had seen in a long time. Maybe ever.

  Jeremy smiled as he kissed Charlie’s cheek, the side of his neck, his nipple. And then he bent over far enough that he could kiss the tip of Charlie’s softening dick. He sucked the head into his mouth and flicked his tongue against it, and Charlie nearly buckled on top of him. Jeremy chuckled and rose, pinning the other man to the wall. He gave Charlie a long, deep, wet kiss. “Sorry. Just needed a taste. To tide me over.”

  “Tide you over?” Charlie asked in a breathy voice.

  “Till next time,” Jeremy said. “Because now that I’ve seen your cock, I’m not going to be able to live without feeling it in my throat.”

  A shudder ran through Charlie’s body. “Jesus, Jeremy. So . . . you want . . .” He shrugged. “You want to be together again?”

  “Dude.” Jeremy leaned in for another kiss, then rested his forehead on Charlie’s. “Yes. Again. And again. And again.”

  Chapter 6

  A KNOCK SOUNDED from somewhere nearby. Not Charlie’s bedroom door, but maybe Jeremy’s, right next door?

  Either way, the sound kicked Charlie’s heart into a sprint for a whole new reason. Fear. Fear of getting caught. Maybe that was ridiculous, but when your own father disapproved of you to the point of cutting off all communications, that left a lasting mark. The team may have discovered that his father wasn’t guilty of selling out his own men, but that did nothing to absolve the man for the way he’d treated his only surviving son.

  “Someone’s out there,” Charlie whispered, tugging his jeans up and bending to grab his shirt. “Oh,” he said, remembering he needed to clean off. He grabbed the towel off the back of the door and gave himself a hasty rubdown before passing it to Jeremy.

  Jeremy chuckled as he accepted the towel. “I can guarantee no matter who it is, they’ve seen a penis before.” He buttoned his jeans, rehung the towel, and grabbed his own shirt.

  Charlie hated to see all that beautiful ink disappear as the tee slipped over Jer’s body, because what he really wanted to do was spend the rest of the afternoon exploring it and learning what every single piece meant to Jeremy.

  “Still,” Charlie said, wishing he could be like Jeremy and not give a damn what anyone else thought. Especially since what he’d prefer to be thinking about was how amazing it was being with Jeremy like that. How good Jeremy made him feel. How mind-blowing it was to be touched and kissed with such abandon. How hot it was seeing Jeremy come.

  “Hey,” Jeremy said, coming to stand right in front of Charlie.

  Knock, knock. “Jeremy?” Nick’s voice reached them from the hallway.

  Nervous energy lanced through Charlie. After everything Nick had done for him and given how much he seemed to care for Becca, Charlie didn’t want to do anything to damage his relationship with Nick. And Kat approving of them didn’t necessarily mean Nick would, too. “Nick wants you,” Charlie said.

  Jeremy’s hands gently clutched Charlie’s neck. “Well, I want ten more seconds with you.” He kissed Charlie softly, slowly, almost reverently. And Charlie wanted to just lose himself in it. He really did. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the a
mazing contrast between the soft pull of Jeremy’s lips and the cool bite of his lip piercing. Which of course made him think of the piercing the guy had on his dick. What would it feel like—?

  Knock, knock.

  Charlie flinched. The knock was against his door this time. “Sorry,” he whispered to Jeremy as he moved to open it.

  “My brother has the worst timing,” Jeremy muttered.

  Charlie opened the door. “Hey Nick,” he said, hoping his attempt to act like the guy’s brother hadn’t just given him a mind-blowingly good orgasm worked.

  “Hey. Sorry to . . . oh, there you are,” he said, looking over Charlie’s shoulder to Jeremy.

  “In the flesh,” Jeremy said. He leaned against the door jamb, the picture of chilled-out ease. “What’s up? Everything go okay with the roadblocks?”

  “Yeah. Everything’s fine. I think it’s going to serve our purposes great,” Nick said. “But that’s not why I’m here. Actually, I’m glad I found you together. I have a favor to ask and it involves Charlie, too.”

  Charlie looked from one brother to the other, not having the first clue what Nick could want that would involve him.

  “Name it,” Jeremy said, his tongue flicking at the piercing on his lip.

  Heat shot through Charlie’s body at the sight. Damn. It had already been difficult acting unaffected by the guy when Charlie thought the attraction was all one-sided. Now that he knew Jeremy wanted him, it was all he could do not to jump the guy and make his promise of “again and again and again” come true right this very second. The fact that he’d just come apparently bore no relevance to his dick, which stirred with interest and approval at Charlie’s imagining.

  Nick’s voice pulled Charlie from his thoughts. “I was wrong about our commander. And I want to make it right, in every way I can.” He tugged up the right sleeve of his plain white T-shirt. A tattoo ringed his biceps. The black silhouettes of six soldiers connected by the dark ground on which they walked. Nick’s light green eyes fell on Charlie. “Given what I thought had happened, I excluded your father when I had this done. I want to rectify that. Right now.”

  “You want me to work on you?” Jeremy asked, pushing off the door jamb.

  Nick nodded. “Please.”

  Charlie didn’t know what to say. It was an amazingly personal gesture, and it meant a lot despite the fact that Charlie was so conflicted in his own feelings about his father. “That’s . . . really good of you, Nick,” he finally managed.

  “It’s long overdue,” he said. Nick looked to Jeremy. “So, you game?”

  “Absofreakinglutely.” Jeremy followed his brother out of the room, then looked over his shoulder to Charlie. “Come with?”

  Charlie was just about to protest when Nick turned and nodded. “Yeah, Charlie. You should come.”

  Surprise curled through Charlie’s gut—both at being included and at how good being included felt. He spent so much time alone in front of a computer that he’d nearly forgotten how being with others chased the cold loneliness away and filled him with warmth. He hadn’t had that in so long. A lot of which was his own fault. He definitely acknowledged that.

  Down at Hard Ink, Jeremy led them through a darkened lounge space at the back of the shop and into a square room. He flicked on the lights, and the walls came to life with pictures of tattoos, large pencil drawings, framed memorabilia, and more.

  “You can sit there, Charlie,” Jeremy said with a smile. He pointed to a folding chair by the edge of a counter. Nick pulled another chair, this one with padded armrests and a back that appeared to recline, into the center of the room and sat.

  Jeremy moved around with a calm efficiency born of experience. He looked the way Charlie felt when he sat in front of a computer, which made Charlie all the more fascinated with what he was doing. Charlie studied Jeremy as he made a stencil to add the seventh soldier into the current tattoo design and had Nick check its placement, as he cleaned and prepped his workspace, and as he poured black ink into a tiny cup and assembled the tattoo machine.

  And then Jeremy sat on a rolling stool beside Nick and asked, “Ready?”

  Nick gave a single nod. And then a low buzz filled the room as Jeremy dipped the machine’s needle in the ink and leaned in to work.

  Truth be told, Charlie was overwhelmed. Both by the significance of another man commemorating his father on his skin, and by how freaking sexy Jeremy was as he brought the image to life. Did Jeremy even realize that he kept flicking his tongue against the piercing on his lip? Because Charlie was about ready to combust at the sight of it.

  The tattoo was done way too quickly. Charlie could’ve watched Jeremy work all day.

  “Perfect,” Nick said as he checked out the finished ink in the mirror. Jeremy bandaged his arm. “Game for doing one more?”

  “It’s like Christmas morning,” Jeremy said. “When am I not game for one more? What do you have in mind?”

  Nick pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to Jeremy. “I want it here,” he said, pointing to his upper left forearm.

  Jeremy’s expression went soft for a moment, like whatever was on the paper moved him, but then he nodded. “All black?”

  “Yeah,” Nick said, sitting again.

  They repeated the process with the stencil again, and that was when Charlie finally saw what it was. A tribal sun with an ornate letter B in the middle.

  It only took Charlie a few seconds to understand Jeremy’s expression. “Sunshine” was Nick’s nickname for Becca. Nick was permanently marking his body for Charlie’s sister.

  “Does she know?” Charlie asked, gesturing to the stencil.

  Nick shook his head. “Thought I’d surprise her.”

  “Might want a box of Kleenex handy when you do,” Charlie said, glad that Becca had someone who loved her the way Nick did.

  Jeremy laughed. “Right? I’m getting a little misty over here myself.”

  Nick cuffed him on the back of the head. “Shut up.”

  “Dude. Why do you always hit me?” Jeremy asked. “Seems a little imprudent when I’m about to get my hands on you, don’t you think? I’m not above tattooing a Hello, Kitty on your grumpy ass.”

  That time, Nick was the one to laugh. “Do that and you’ll wake up tomorrow morning with a shaved head.”

  Jeremy held up his hands. “That’s not cool. You don’t threaten a man’s hair.”

  Charlie grinned as the exchange went on until Jeremy finally settled down and got to work. This tattoo took longer than the first, and had turned the skin on Nick’s forearm bright red by the time Jeremy finished. But it looked phenomenal, the black stark and crisp on his arm.

  Becca was going to flip out.

  “Great work as always,” Nick said as Jeremy bandaged the second piece.

  “You’re welcome, man,” Jeremy said. Then, a moment later, he added, “You’re that serious about her?”

  Nick smirked. “You waited ‘til after it was done to ask?”

  Jeremy shrugged, a small smile playing around his lips.

  “Yeah. I absolutely am. I’m that serious and I’m that sure.” Nick smoothed a finger over the tape on his arm.

  “Well, I’m glad for you. I really am. Becca’s the best,” Jeremy said.

  “Way better than me. But somehow I got lucky.” Nick walked to the doorway and turned. “Can you two come up around seven and relieve the women from reading? They’ve been at it all day.”

  “Of course,” Jeremy said.

  Nick’s words, though they’d been said jokingly, sat uncomfortably in Charlie’s gut. “She’s not better than you,” Charlie blurted. Nick’s pale green eyes cut his way. Rising, Charlie wondered why the hell he’d started this anyway. “What I mean is, you’re every bit as good as she is. You saved my life, Nick. And hers. Hell, so many people around here owe you a deb
t of gratitude for what you’ve done. So, she’s lucky, too. That’s all I wanted to say.” Charlie fisted his hands against the urge to fidget.

  The silence seemed to stretch out forever, and then Nick held out his hand. “Thanks, Charlie. That means a lot.”

  Charlie returned the shake, although it was totally awkward given the bandages on his hand. They couldn’t come off soon enough. And then Nick was gone.

  When Charlie turned around, Jeremy was right there. “I really appreciate that you did that,” Jeremy said, pulling Charlie into his arms. “Thank you. Nick’s hard on himself, you know?”

  Surrendering to the embrace, Charlie rested his head on Jeremy’s shoulder and returned the hug. And it was such a sweet moment after how abruptly things had ended earlier. “You’re welcome,” Charlie said. “Is that a Rixey thing? Being hard on yourself?”

  Jeremy gave a rueful laugh and pulled away enough to look Charlie in the eyes, though he kept one hand cupped around Charlie’s neck. It made him feel claimed, wanted. “Maybe so.”

  “Because what happened on the roof wasn’t your fault, Jeremy. And I hate that you’re beating yourself up about it. I really do,” Charlie rushed on.

  “I’m working on it,” Jeremy said, his thumb stroking back and forth against Charlie’s neck. “I’m just so fucking sad about the way it went down.” His voice cracked on the last word, and it nearly broke Charlie’s heart.

  Charlie pulled Jeremy into his arms, his hand holding and stroking the back of Jeremy’s head. “Not your fault,” Charlie whispered. Jeremy’s hands fisted in Charlie’s shirt and his muscles went tight, like he was holding back what his body wanted to release. Several moments passed, and Charlie just held Jeremy. It was easy to do. He’d wanted to do it for weeks. And he knew he could do it forever, if Jeremy let him. Because Jeremy made him feel present in the world in a way he hadn’t . . . maybe ever.

  Finally, Jeremy heaved a deep breath. “Thanks,” he whispered against Charlie’s throat. His breath was warm and ticklish.

  “Any time,” Charlie said, not wanting the hug to end. Not wanting the touching to end. An idea came to mind, and Charlie ran with it before he gave himself the chance to overthink it. “Would it make you feel better if I asked you to do a tattoo for me?”