Page 3 of Virgin Skin

“I know the one.” It’s not hard—there’s only one in Fall Crosse. “No jacket either?” I frown, realizing he’s only wearing a t-shirt, and I can feel a slight shiver making his body quiver.

Milo shakes his head again. Without hesitating, I slip my jacket off and hand it to him.

“Here, put this on.”

“Oh, you don’t have—”

“My helmet too,” I cut him off, picking up my helmet as soon as we reach my bike and handing it to him.

He hesitates for a beat, then puts both of them on. Satisfaction fills my belly at the sight of him wearing my gear. My cock jerks and my fingers twitch as I nod towards my Harley. Milo climbs on gracefully. I doubt it’s his first time, but I try not to think too hard about who else he might have been wrapped around on the back of a bike.

Arrow is usually the possessive one in our little club, but I think I actually understand where he’s coming from for achange. I bite back the urge to growl and hop on. Milo doesn’t have to wrap his arms around me to hold on, but he does anyway. The ride to his motel takes all of three minutes, but he spends the entire time teasing his fingers around my belly button through my shirt and pressing the swell of his cock against my ass. He points me towards the far end, and I cruise into a parking spot.

After Milo climbs off, he hands me back my helmet but keeps my jacket. Anticipation sizzles in my veins as I follow him towards the building. He fishes a key out of his pocket and unlocks the door, flipping on a light as he leads me inside. I’ve driven past this place thousands of times, but I’ve never been inside. It’s slightly nicer than I usually expect from a motel, but there’s still that faint, lingering smell of cigarette smoke and mold that no amount of bleach or paint can quite cover.

We both toe off our shoes and he finally shrugs out of my jacket. The jittery moment he had when I asked if he wanted to leave Wooley’s seems to be back. He drags his fingers through his hair and shuffles his feet, looking at the bed and then back at me.

“Hey.” I take a step closer, bringing us toe to toe, barely an inch of space between us. “Whatever you’re up for is fine. I don’t care if we fuck or if we order an overpriced movie and make out for two hours.”

His eyes brighten and a puff of air carrying a laugh bursts through his lips to dance across my face.

“That sounds fun, actually.” He licks his lips, and I track the motion, mesmerized by the way the damp sheen makes his mouth look even more tempting. “You seriously wouldn’t be disappointed?”

“As long as it’s notHarry Potter,” I say with a flicker of a smile as I wrap my hand around his jaw. “No one fucks with my trans homies.”

Milo’s lips part on another laugh and I lean in to catch the sound with my own mouth. The vibration of it turns into a surprised gasp, and then a low hum of satisfaction as he wraps his arms around my neck and pulls me in closer. Our bodies meet in a slow collision, and I walk him backward a few steps towards the bed, our mouths brushing and bumping in search of the right rhythm. Milo’s lips are even softer than they looked, the flavor of his beer still lingering on his tongue as he snakes it into my mouth to deepen the kiss.

He tumbles onto the bed, wrapping the front of my shirt around his hand to tug me down with him. He laughs against my lips as we awkwardly shuffle up the bed, trying not to break the kiss. The hard shape of his cock drags against my thigh, and I’m sure he can feel mine, but all of our groping stays relatively innocent, his hands slipping under my shirt to trace the planes of my stomach and chest while our tongues tangle.

Eventually we pry ourselves away from the kiss long enough to pick a movie. We settle onThelma and Louise. Milo’s enthusiasm for a young Brad Pitt has me growling and dragging him in for another tongue-heavy kiss before long though.

No matter how insistently my cock throbs or my balls ache, I just can’t find it in me to be annoyed that this is all Milo wants to do. There’s a playfulness to the way he kisses that mesmerizes me. He nips at my lips, occasionally breaking away to laugh or smile.

By the time the movie is over, my lips are sore and I’m sure my blue balls are officially permanent, but I can’t stop smiling any more than Milo can.

“Are you going to be sticking around Fall Crosse for a while?” I ask, slipping my shoes back on and grabbing my jacket.

Milo shrugs, hovering near the door so he can let me out once I’m ready.

“I guess it depends on what happens tomorrow. But I don’t really have anywhere else to go or any plans, so I’ll probably be around for a little while either way.”

I pull my phone out of my pocket, unlock it, and hand it to him. He takes it and adds himself to my contacts without me even having to ask. As soon as he hands it back, I text him so he’ll have mine too, then we linger over one last kiss at the door before I manage to drag myself away.

I reach down to adjust my raging erection as I saunter through the dark to my bike, an extra swagger in my step. Even though we kept things PG, it feels like tonight’s small risk paid off. Maybe Milo will stick around long enough for me to take him on a few dates, at least.

I hop on my Harley and roar off into the darkness with that grin permanently etched on my lips.

I guess every once in a while, it’s worth it to be a little impulsive. Who knows? This could be the start of something great.

Chapter 2

PISTON

A Billie Eilish songrocks through the speakers, almost loud enough to drown out the buzz of several tattoo machines all running at once, but not quite. Letting Arrow set the volume was the one concession Jag agreed to as part of the peace negotiations with our neighbor, Lewis, also known as Arrow’s boyfriend. I had the pleasure of mediating that one since Arrow is clearly biased and Jag is Jag.

Personally, I’m just glad he’s finally out of his ‘Play theBarbiealbum on repeat’ era. It was only a few months ago that we held a vote and decided music choices for the shop would be on a rotating system, butsomehowthe schedule keeps going missing.

Jag sings along to one of the faster paced songs on his playlist, growling in his own version of her raspy style. He shakes his ass, clad in a pair of leopard print leggings that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. And somehow through all of his antics, he still manages to keep his hand perfectly steady and his client smiling serenely at the ink he etches onto her skin.

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