Going Inksane (Nice Ink Book 1) Page 5

  Breaking into porn is easier than you think. A quick net search and we found plenty of studios in Los Angeles. It was a bit of a drive from where we lived, but I preferred that. Less chance of being recognized.

  I hadn’t been sure we would be accepted since we knew jack shit about porn, but it had turned out I didn’t need to worry.

  The director had taken one look at the two of us and practically salivated all over us. We had made it clear from the beginning it was short term and X and I would never appear in the same scenes together, but the guy didn’t care. He would have done anything to get us to sign those contracts.

  That was the hardest few years of my life, and I’m not just talking about the state of my dick. There were times when I felt like I was selling more than just my body, and it made me wonder if it was worth it.

  X had no such reservations or any reservations at all once he had shot his first scene. When we finally walked away, he admitted that if we weren’t opening the shop, he would have seriously considered a career in porn.

  The one positive thing I can say is that it was safe sex in an equally safe environment. With the regulations on the porn industry, monthly testing and the use of condoms were a must.

  Porn was more work than people realized though. If I hadn’t been so young, I doubt I could have kept it up for as many hours as it sometimes took to do the shoots. There were times when I had been hard for so long that it actually hurt when I finally got to come.

  My scenes had sold well enough to make me a lot of money. I was just grateful I wasn’t recognized for my work. I wasn’t exactly ashamed of what I had done, but I wanted to leave it in the past where it belonged.

  Remembering my porn career made me realize it had been a while since I had gotten any action outside of my own hand. By my own doing.

  I could walk into Whispers any night and have a gaggle of twinks volunteering to ride my dick, and that wasn’t me being conceited. I had done so numerous times, and I loved it when I was younger.

  The last year or so, it had started to lose its luster. I hadn’t brought it up to my friends, or even Cooper, but I had a feeling it was the fact that my thirtieth birthday was right around the corner that had me thinking about things differently than I had before. The last thing I needed was them giving me shit about turning into an old man.

  Rather than a bunch of random hookups, I found myself fantasizing about having one guy, a partner I could come home to. Someone who understood me and knew everything about me and still wanted me. Someone I could hold in my arms every night and who would hold me in return.

  That was the thing about being a big guy. There was this assumption you were a bad ass, dominant top looking for a sweet sub. Don’t get me wrong, I usually topped and had nothing against subs, sweet or otherwise, but that wasn’t my type. I wanted to be with a man who took care of me as much as I took care of him. I wanted to be the protector while he was the nurturer.

  Ned’s image flashed in my mind. Just remembering those sweet blushes was enough to cause my dick to stir in my jeans. There was something about him that I couldn’t put my finger on. Sure, he was gorgeous, but I suspected there was more to him than just a pretty face.

  As much as I wanted to, I doubted I would see him again, which was too bad. Though I had no idea why, something told me he would be exactly what I needed.

  Chapter Four

  Ned

  “So, tomorrow’s the big day, huh?” I asked.

  Derek grinned. “Yeah, I can’t wait. Since you can’t come, Ollie said he wanted to come.”

  I looked at Oliver. “Let me guess, book research.”

  “You know it,” Oliver agreed, and I smiled.

  That did not surprise me at all. None of his books had any tattoo artists so it made sense that he wanted to find out more about them.

  I was going to miss these dinners. Until Derek had gotten injured and been forced into a more traditional schedule, I hadn’t realized how little time the five of us spent together.

  With me, Derek, Roger and Kiel all working jobs with crazy shifts, the five of us weren’t together as often as we would have liked. As a writer, Oliver was the only one who was able to set his own schedule, and I envied that sometimes.

  It wasn’t that the five of us didn’t see each other because we did, more than once a week. The problem was that it was rare for all of us to mange to be together at the same time.

  You wouldn’t think it would work out that way, considering the number of days off our jobs afforded us. As a firefighter, Kiel worked a full twenty-four hours and then was allowed two days off. That was nearly the same for Roger as a paramedic. He got two days off after each of his twenty-four hour shifts.

  Derek pulled five eight hour days in a row and then got the standard two days off, but he didn’t get a regular eight to five shift. Now that he had been with the department for a bit, he had moved up in seniority and was able to work the shift he wanted. That shift happened to be starting at two in the afternoon and being off by ten each night.

  When he had announced that was the shift he had chosen because it was the best, I thought he was crazy. According to Derek, the later evening was where all the action was, a fact that worried my parents. Rightfully so, considering Derek ended up getting shot.

  I shivered, trying not to remember how it felt to see him being wheeled into the ER. It would have been hard enough for anyone to see their brother like that, but only a multiple could understand how deep that hurt ran.

  As scary as it had been to see him like that, none of us would have asked him to give up the job he loved. None of us would have given up the jobs we loved for anything.

  I loved being a nurse, and I especially loved working in the ER. I had been hooked after the first rotation, and it had nothing to do with needing the fast pace to stay busy. If anyone thought only ER nurses were busy, they obviously did not know any nurses. No matter what department you worked in, you were busy.

  For me, I loved seeing people through the worst in their lives. They came into the ER, sick or injured, feeling their lowest. Putting them back together, making them feel better and then sending them home in far better shape than when they came in was a feeling like no other.

  My schedule wasn’t too bad either. I worked three twelve hour shifts in a row, which often included overtime since I worked in the emergency room. The trade off was that I got four days in a row off once I finished those three days.

  At the moment, I was on the seven to seven rotation which was all kinds of awesome. It meant I could be up at a reasonable hour and leave early enough that I still had time to have a normal social life.

  Not that I had what would be considered a real social life. I just meant that I could spend time with my family and still be able to get a decent night of sleep.

  I had no interest in a real social life. Not anymore. Those days had passed me by a long time ago. Sure, it was lonely sometimes, but I had my brothers and my parents to temper that feeling.

  Case in point, I was sitting in a sushi restaurant having dinner with Derek and Oliver. Oliver’s attendance at family functions was always dependent on how his latest book was going. If he was deep in the zone, or close to a self-imposed deadline, it was difficult to tear him from his keyboard.

  Oliver was the quietest of us, always observing and taking things in. I’m sure it went along with being a writer since the things he saw often ended up in his books.

  That said we had all forbidden him to base any of his characters on us. That included writing about cops, firefighters, paramedics and nurses. The last thing we wanted was to be featured in one of his steamy romances, even if they were gay romances. It was just weird.

  Naturally, Oliver had grumbled about it and still did every once in a while, but he had supposedly stuck to his word. I say supposedly because it would not surprise me to learn he used a pen name to write books with those characters.

  “Speaking of getting tattooed, I’m one hundred percent sure my
tattoo artist has a thing for Ned,” Derek announced, and I nearly choked on my California roll.

  Interest lit Oliver’s eyes as he fixed them on me. The glasses he wore made his brown eyes even bigger, making me feel that intense gaze even more.

  “How come you didn’t mention this before?” Oliver asked.

  “Because it’s not true,” I said. “We spent maybe twenty minutes with the guy, and most of that was talking about Derek’s tattoo. There’s no way he had enough time to develop ‘a thing’ for me.”

  Oliver gave me a disappointed look as he shifted his attention to Derek. “Since Ned’s not going to be honest, you can tell me what happened.”

  “I’m not lying, and I resent that.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  Before I had time to bask in the glory of my triumph, Oliver went on talking and stomped all over the victorious feelings that had started to blossom.

  “I don’t think you’re lying to us. It’s more like it’s yourself that you’re lying to. Not that any of us would blame you, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make us sad.”

  I mashed my lips together to keep from saying something hurtful, but the truth was I was getting sick and tired of them bringing it up. They did it every time I didn’t express what they considered an appropriate interest in a guy.

  All of my brothers knew what happened to me. There was no way I would have kept it from them. I needed them too much. It had taken their endless love and support to help me get my confidence back. And what Derek had done for me had gone a long way to that happening.

  So I hadn’t had a relationship in a while. I was too busy for that, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t gone on dates. Okay, fine, I could not remember the last date I had gone on, but that was my business. Besides, it wasn’t like any of them had a man. What right did they have to worry about me being single when they were just as single?

  I swallowed my sigh because as angry as I was, I knew it was coming from a good place. Just like I knew if it had been one of them, I would have behaved the same way.

  “Now then,” Oliver said, still looking at Derek. “What makes you think your tattoo artist was interested in Ned?”

  Derek grinned. “He said Ned was gorgeous.”

  “He said we were both gorgeous,” I reminded him.

  Oliver blinked. “Are you seriously saying your tattoo artist is gay?”

  “Yep, and his name is Heath.”

  “That’s a hot name. I may need to use it.”

  Meaning, it would appear in one of his books. Thankfully, Heath didn’t strike me as much of a gay romance reader so he would never know about Oliver poaching his name.

  “The man is as hot as his name,” Derek agreed. “Tall, blond, pretty blue eyes and buff with biceps the size of basketballs and an ass that could crack walnuts.”

  “I’m not sure either of those things is physically possible,” I said, though I could not dispute his description.

  “Not the point,” Derek said. “The point is Heath is gay and hot and that’s not even the best part.”

  “There’s more?” Oliver asked.

  “Yes, there’s more and it gets better,” Derek agreed.

  I grinned when Oliver leaned forward. Derek had his undivided attention now, and I had no doubt he was contemplating a future book plot.

  “There are five guys working in the tattoo shop, and they’re all gay,” Derek said and then added, “And hot. Not just regular hot either. I’m talking melt your jockstrap hot.”

  Oliver’s eyes widened. “You must tell me more about this gay nirvana.”

  Derek and I both laughed. It was obvious which of us was the writer.

  “The guy working the counter is this pretty boy named Damian. Then there’s another guy with this silver painted hair. I’m not sure what his name is, but he was just as pretty,” Derek said. “There was this big bear of a guy with a beard and moustache who was built like a brick shithouse.”

  “They said his name was X,” I added.

  “I wonder what it stands for,” Oliver said.

  The blush staining his cheeks didn’t surprise me. It was no secret Oliver liked big, muscled tops. Given the type of books he wrote, I think there was more he liked than he had admitted to any of us, but that was all right. There were some things you just did not want to know about your brother.

  Knowing your brother was having sex was one thing. Knowing the full details were something different and quite frankly both frightening and a little vomit inducing.

  “Maybe you could ask him when we go tomorrow,” Derek suggested, but we all knew that was not going to happen.

  Oliver wasn’t just quiet because he was a natural observer. He was shy, almost painfully so. Meeting new people did not come easy to him.

  “What about the other guy?” Oliver asked. “You said there were five. What did the last one look like?”

  Derek smiled. “The last one is the best of all.”

  Even though I didn’t agree, I wasn’t surprised by Derek’s assessment. Derek had a thing for the strong, silent type, and that guy seemed like he fit the bill to a T.

  “His name’s Flynn and he has dark hair in a buzz cut. I was too far away to see what color his eyes were though.” Derek paused to take a drink of his beer. “The guy was sitting the whole time, but with as long as his arms were, I would say he’s probably around six feet tall. Full sleeve tattoos on both arms and a tattoo of a bird in flight on his throat.”

  The fact that Derek could recall so many details about the object of his affection was not a surprise. As a cop, he was trained to do so, but that didn’t make it any less impressive.

  “I wouldn’t want a tattoo on my throat,” Oliver said.

  “Yeah, me either, but it looked sexy as fuck on him,” Derek said.

  “I can’t wait to see for myself.”

  “Trust me, little brother, you will not be disappointed.”

  Oliver blanched but didn’t object to the title. Not that it would have done any good since it was technically true.

  With our mom carrying what she always affectionately referred to as a litter, her doctors didn’t want her trying a natural delivery. Unfortunately for her, her body had other plans and she started having contractions at thirty-one weeks, forcing the doctors to do her C-section earlier than they wanted.

  Derek had been the first of us to be born, which did not surprise anyone who knew him. He was the bossiest and always thought he knew what was best. I wish I could say he outgrew it, but that would be a lie. Derek was not shy about offering his unsolicited advice to the rest of us, and the bitch of it was that he was usually right.

  Oliver had not only been the last one born, he was the smallest and unhealthiest. Last born, he was also last to leave the hospital.

  To this day, he was still smaller than the rest of us and no where near as tall or muscular. Not that I’m saying we were gym rats or anything, but we were all in pretty good shape. That was a necessity for Derek and Kiel and Roger with their physically demanding jobs.

  A couple of inches shorter than the rest of us, Oliver was the slimmest, the epitome of a geeky twink. He was also the only one of us who wore glasses, which he always complained about when we were growing up. Now, he didn’t seem to care since he had never replaced them with contacts.

  “I never would have expected gay men to be tattoo artists,” Oliver admitted. “I always thought they were Harley driving macho men.”

  “They might be, but they also happen to be gay,” I said.

  “Thank God for that,” Derek said. “So, Ned, should I give Heath your number?”

  I glared at him. “No, you should not.”

  “Why not? The man is hot and obviously interested.”

  “I don’t care. I’m not.”

  And, yeah, that was a lie. Of course I was interested. I wasn’t blind and the man was sex on legs, which was exactly the problem.

  There was no way he wasn’t aware of his hotness. Guys
like that not only knew how hot they were but they had no problem using it to their advantage. They got what they wanted and moved on, and I had no interest in being another in an undoubtedly long line of conquests.

  Not to mention, they were dicks. I had yet to meet a hot guy who didn’t think his shit didn’t stink. I might have been willing to accept that when I was younger, but I was too old for that now. I also deserved better.

  “If I had a sexy tattoo artist interested in me, I would totally go for it,” Oliver said.

  “I second that emotion,” Derek agreed.

  “Does that mean you’re going to put the moves on that Flynn guy?” Oliver asked.

  Derek grinned. “I’m thinking about it.”

  I had no doubt the guy would say yes if Derek asked him out. Derek had that kind of luck. Come to think of it, Kiel and Roger did pretty well too. Oliver and I were the only ones who didn’t date much, and we each had our reasons.

  Reasons all of my brothers understood all too well, which was why I did not appreciate Derek’s suggestion. Also why I wasn’t going to do anything about Hot Heath other than admire him from afar.

  And maybe jerk off to thoughts of him too, but no one needed to know that.

  Chapter Five

  Heath

  “What the fuck is this and why are we listening to it?” X demanded.

  Cooper looked up from the ink he was doing to flash a pretty smile in X’s direction. “It’s Chris Isaak and we’re listening to it because it’s my day to pick the music. When it’s your day, we can listen to whatever death metal crap you want, but today is my day and I’m in a Chris kind of mood.”

  “You know I don’t listen to death metal, but even if I did, it would be a lot better than this whiny pussy.”

  There was a collective laugh in the shop, and that included the customers.