Page 90 of Dukes of Peril

Inhaling, I work myself in between them, tingling at the feel of Remy’s warm hands on my hips, guiding my ass right up against his crotch as I perch over Nick’s. Remy’s smooth, beer-laced breath brushes over my ear. “Good?” he asks, a box of sterile gloves suddenly appearing in my lap.

No, I should say. There’s no way I’m going to be able to focus with Nick’s dick in my face and Remy’s pressing against my ass. I’m pinned right between them, the skin on the back of my neck prickling with sweat, and it’s all I can do not to squirm around, feeling my own building wetness.

“How do you do this?” I ask Remy, even though I don’t mean to.

“Tattoo someone?” Remy asks, sounding confused. Only then he hooks two fingers around my hair, brushing it over my shoulder, and he must see the ember of heat in my eyes, because he laughs, low and teasing into the juncture of my neck. “Yeah, it’s a lot of nice skin for you, huh, Vinny?”

Nick’s eyebrows pull together in confusion. “What?”

I shoot Remy a warning look–Don’t–but he pretends to not see it. “We’re getting her horny.” Ignoring my outraged expression, he says to me, “I’m always horny when I put ink on you. All that purple and red… it just makes it better. You’ll understand the next time you see it, all healed and waiting for you.” His fingers reach up, brushing the top of my cleavage where the moth rests. He whispers, “Then you’ll feel how much it’s yours.”

I shudder at the feel of his lips against my ear, trying to get myself together. Nodding, I pull out two latex gloves, giving in to the impulse to squirm–right up against Remy’s dick.

He grunts, holding my hip. “You thought about getting it on your dick, didn’t you?” Remy asks Nick. To me, he says, “Prep the space, baby,” and hands me an antiseptic wipe next.

Nick shrugs a shoulder, forearm wedged behind his head. “Thought about it, but—” I swipe the cold cloth over his skin and he hisses, belly sinking.

“Healing time,” Remy says, finishing his sentence. “Figures.”

Sy wanders over just as I’m blowing over the antiseptic on Nick’s skin, watching the ripple in his abs. I don’t even know how the hell, but like Remy, and now Nick, Sy has lost his shirt, too. “What’s going on?” he asks, tipping a beer bottle to his lips before passing it to Nick.

“Getting my victory tat.” Nick grins down at me, eyes heavy and glazed as he takes a drink from the beer. “Lavinia’s doing it.”

He rolls his eyes and raises his eyebrow at Remy. “He got jealous. I told you.”

“Youtold him?” Nick says, passing the beer to Remy next. “You’re talking about me behind my back like little bitches?”

Sy shrugs. “Anything I say behind your back, I’d say to your face. I knew you were going to get jealous when you saw Remy’s tattoo. You’re such a spoiled little shit.”

“Whatever,” Nick says, his bitterness only lasting a moment. “You ready, Little Bird?”

I pick up the tattoo gun, comfortable with the weight of it in my hand these days. “You never told me what you want me to put on you.”

Flippantly, Nick says, “It’ll be easy. No templates. No drawings. I just want two letters in your own handwriting.” His fingertips trace over the area. “L.B.”

Face growing hotter, I realize, “For Little Bird.”

His eyes hold mine for a heartbeat, the muscle in the back of his jaw ticcing. “Yeah, for Little Bird.”

I scoot the chair I’m sharing with Remy close enough that it’s touching the front of Nick’s, all of our legs cramped and tangled, yet somehow fitting perfectly. Leaning forward, I use the hard, flat plane of his lower abdomen to keep my hand steady.

“Is this good?” I ask, looking over my shoulder at Remy.

He assesses the space, “A smidge to the right.”

“A smidge?” Nick asks, but I do as he suggests and Remy nods.

“That’s centered.”

My hair falls forward and Nick reaches down to tuck it behind my ear. A shiver runs down my spine. Voice strained, I say, “Nick. You can’t touch me while I’m doing this.”

“No?” His eyes drop to my chest. That chill made my nipples peak.

“Not if you want it to looklegible.”

Remy’s hand gathers up my hair, giving me a full view of Nick’s bare abdomen as he watches me. “That better?” Remy asks.

“Yeah, thanks.”

---