Page 61 of Phantom Faceoff
Ink decorates his skin in a swirl of letters. Stanzas. There’s an elaborate piece on his ribs of detailed headphones with wings tangled in a bright red ribbon, the only color to the work aside from streaks of red dripping from the wings and pale pink scratch marks that look like scars.
I run my fingers over them for the peace of mind that they’re actually a part of his ink and not real scars.
Malachi audibly gasps at my light touch, shivering and clenching the bedsheets in his fists.
There’s no counting the tattoos—they’re too numerous, weaving into each other. Lyrics. Tiny drawings that tie them together.
They’re mesmerizing. Consuming.
I’m so busy touching him—appreciating him—that I don’t hear the door open, I don’t notice footsteps or the squeak coming from the other side of the room. It’s Malachi’s hands closing over my own that breaks me out of the trance.
When I look up, his face is a deep rosy hue, and I finally catch a glimpse of Julian out of the corner of my eye.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he says with a slight giggle. “They’re beautiful aren’t they?”
There aren’t words for what I think about his body right now, so I simply nod and drag my hands down Malachi’s chest to rest on his hips.
Julian bounds over and hops onto the bed beside us, seeming to have no care for the scene he just walked in on. His face is split in a grin, and he leans down to Malachi, faux whispering, “Did you ask him?”
Instantly, my curiosity is piqued. “Ask me what?”
Malachi curses under his breath and throws an arm over his eyes, which only makes Julian giggle again. “Nothing. It’s stupid.”
“It’s not,” Julian says, turning those bright eyes on me. “It’s hot.”
Over the last few weeks, Malachi hasn’t asked a single thing of me sexually. If he’s got something on his mind, I damn sure want to know it.
“Now you have to tell me.”
What could fluster him like this?
He huffs in surrender, tense shoulders deflating, but he keeps his eyes covered. I watch his throat bob, watch his tongue and teeth worry his bottom lip.
I give the barest rock of my hips so he’ll feel my hard cock on his thigh—so he’ll know that whatever is on his mind, I’m interested.
“Jules and I were talking …” his voice trails off, and after a moment he clears his throat. “You want to have sex. And I’m not there yet.”
I swallow around the dryness in my throat. “If you’re trying to give me permission to sleep around, I don’t want that. You were clear about wanting this exclusive.”
“I know.” He sighs and moves his hips under mine, a reciprocated interest. “It’s not sleeping around. It’s more … I want to watch you fuck.”
My ears ring as blood rushes to my head. My actual head this time, though my dick is also throbbing with the thrum of excitement.
“You and Julian,” he clarifies, finally dropping his arm and gazing between us. “I trust him. You’re comfortable together.” He shrugs.
The words twist and turn in my brain, creating a myriad of images that only serve to both confuse and turn me on more.
“Wait. Is this what you have in mind for …?”
“Your reward? Yeah.”
I don’t mean to whine; it just slips out.
“I want to touch you.”
Malachi’s face grows warm again, and I flatten myself over top of him, ghosting my mouth along his jaw.
“Daddy,” I whisper in his ear, feeling him shudder and his cock jump against mine. His arms come around me, one resting on my ass where I know he’s dying to smack.
