Wicked Lies Boys Tell

“You’re…with him…” Ivy chokes out. “But you’re my…we were…”

I sling an arm over his shoulders and we turn to face her.

“I’m sorry, Ivy, but Penn and I were a thing long before you and I were. It just took me a little longer to get on the same page.”

“Unbelievable,” Ivy utters before turning and storming off.

“I guess the wedding’s off,” Leah deadpans.

“Fuck yeah, it is,” I grumble.

Penn sits in the chair at Fenway Ink looking fine as hell. He’s lost his shirt, baring all his sinewy muscles for the entire damn shop. Luckily, Lars and Graham are both married to chicks. I get to appreciate Penn’s lickable V all to myself. When he catches me salivating over the way his happy trail disappears into his jeans, he smirks knowingly at me.

“You’re here to tattoo me, not suck my dick,” he says loudly.

I don’t flinch. Not anymore. We’re free.

“I’m going to tattoo you and then I’m going to suck your dick.” I flash him an impish grin that has him biting on the inside corner of his lip.

As I close my curtain and prep my station, I can’t help but think about the rest of the school day. Penn and I were the gossip of the year. Most kids said they suspected we were a couple. Others were thinking we were doing it to get back at our dads. A few said we were just faking a relationship for attention or to in some way cover up Leah being a whore. Dante seemed upset at first, but then, after school, he and Liam had their tongues down each other’s throats. Not sure why Dante would fuck around with that disease cesspool, but whatever. If he thought he was going to make my man jealous, he was sorely mistaken.

My man was too busy with his tongue down my throat.

It’s freeing when you don’t have to hide. And just because we could, we made out with Penn’s ass pressed against the driver’s side of his Jeep and my dick grinding against him through our jeans. My dick stirs at the reminder, but I ignore it, focusing on my work. I’m careful and a perfectionist. Since this tattoo is going on Penn, my favorite person in the entire world, the art has to be perfect like him.

I do a simple black tatt. Just words. For now, it expresses how I feel. How we both feel.

Immerse your soul in love.

He looks down to admire my handiwork once I clean away the ink smears. “Immerse your soul in love.”

The phrase is written twice. One for each of us. In the shape of an infinity symbol right over his heart. Black. Permanent. Forever mine to look at. He’s forever mine.

“I love it,” he says, grinning. “It’s awesome.”

His eyes drift past me to the closed curtain before landing back on mine. He puts his hand on his dick that’s straining in his jeans.

“If me hurting you gets your dick hard,” I tell him, pointing at his tattoo, “then it looks like we’re going to have a lot of fun when I ink the rest of you up.”

He undoes the top button of his jeans and unzips them. “You get me hard. Just looking at you.” Brazenly, he pulls his dick from his boxers and strokes it. My own cock strains against my jeans in response. “Now, you promised me something else.”

I lick my lips as he tugs at his thick length. The shop is slow, which means Lars is probably in his office while Graham is out back smoking. I rip off my gloves and kneel beside the chair. Wasting no time, I lean forward and lick his tip that glistens with pre-cum, loving the hiss that escapes him.

With people able to pop in at any time, I make quick work of satisfying my man. Giving him the best and quickest blowjob of his life, I pull out all my tricks to have him nearly coming out of his chair in pleasure.

“Fuck,” he grunts, his lower abs flexing. “Fuck.”

Swallowing down his cock, I revel in the way he explodes. He curses, grabs my hair, and jolts his hips up as he forcefully pushes himself as deep into my throat as he can go. I maintain a hold on my gag reflex as I let him use my throat for his pleasure. Heat floods into my throat as his cock pulsates with his release. I swallow down his saltiness before slowly dragging my teeth along his shaft as I pull away. When our eyes meet, his are hooded and sated.

“I fucking love you,” he utters.

Rising from the floor, I watch him as he tucks his dick back in his slacks.

“What?” he jokes. “Too good to say it back?”

I unbutton my jeans. “Nope. Just waiting for you to earn those words the same way I earned mine.”