INKED 8: A Tattoo Shop Reverse Harem

His hand reaches to the table, and he slips something between us. I jump at the sensation of the ice across my clit. He doesn’t leave it there, just taps over and over and over until my whole body is drawn tight, back arched, face scrunched, hands grasping for something, anything to push me over the edge. And then it happens.

Oh, it happens.

I cry out, flopping back against the bed, eyes closed so that I can dwell in the dark cave of pleasure that Lex has encased me in, and through it all, he keeps moving, his cock swelling to impossible proportions. When he comes, he does it resting on just one arm, his inked bicep bulging, every muscle in his body drawn tight. “Fuck,” he gasps, thrusting through wave upon wave of an orgasm that I can feel.

He flops on top of me, burying his face into my neck, his hot breath tickling my skin, and I wrap my arms and legs around him and laugh.

I laugh and laugh, and he laughs too.

It’s an expression of happiness, and awe, and I guess of relief.

Dex was right.

This game is fun.

Dawn was right.

You only live once is the perfect motto.

I’m never going to be able to eat chocolate spread, ice cream, or cheesecake without thinking about sex, but that’s okay.

As Lex reaches out to the table and begins to feed me strawberries, I conclude that this is the best memory I’ve ever made.

And I have seven more to go.

15

KASE

Why Lex arrives at Ink Factor in the morning, he’s not alone. Kyla is there, wearing a pretty outfit that looks more like something she’d wear to a date than to work. He has his arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to her forehead before he disappears to get his workstation ready.

Dex stayed at our place last night, and I see him making his way into Lex’s booth and hear the two of them talking in muted voices about whatever happened last night.

I guess if Kyla stayed over, it must have gone well.

Carl is in the back, and I can’t work out if he’s bothered by this whole thing or not. If he is, he’s doing his best to keep it under wraps. Maybe he doesn’t want to be the only one of us that doesn’t get a taste of Kyla. Maybe that’s what’s made him quiet and brooding. Or maybe he’s bothered because it’s a game and he’s holding himself back from competitive. Carl is as competitive as the rest of us. Maybe even more so.

I watch Kyla place her bag beneath the reception desk, then start up the new computer. While it’s loading the software, her eyes drift to the white bowl. She might have had a great night last night, but she’s already thinking about what she has to come. Kyla knows she can pick out a new date whenever she’s feeling like it. We’re not running on a deadline. It’s all about her and what she wants.

Will she pick out a date today or leave it until tomorrow? Maybe she’ll leave it a week, and we’ll all be walking around with raging hard-ons from the anticipation.

Her hand drifts over the bowl and pauses. She’s definitely in two minds about what to do. Is she tired? Did Lex keep her up all night? Maybe she’s sore and wondering if she can physically take another night of vigorous sex.

Her fingers lower, touching the paper. She stirs them around and lifts her hand out, but she’s not holding anything. Her gaze drifts to the computer, and inside, my impatient internal voice is screaming at her to pick me, pick me.

I have something awesome planned for her, something that will awaken a darker side.

Her hand reaches out again, and I hold my breath. Is she going to pick?

Yes.

She whips her hand out, holding the small, folded secret. Glancing around before she opens it, I manage to duck out of sight before she spots me.

When she opens the paper, her cheeks flush. Kyla only leaves it a few seconds before she puts the paper in the pocket of her snug jeans. I watch as she takes a deep breath. When she stands, I duck back into my work area, pretending to sort out the ink. I have my back to the reception area, so I have no idea which direction Kyla’s going in, or even if she’s intending to tell whoever it is that is getting to take her out tonight. There’s a soft tap on the partition wall behind me, and when I turn, she’s there.

The flush is still evident across Kyla’s cheeks, but she meets me, eye to eye. “So, you’re taking me clubbing tonight?” she says softly.

Fuck. She did pick me.

There are two things Kyla needs to know for our date to work out well.