Old Ink (Get Ink'd #3) - Ali Lyda Page 0,60
the danger zone. My cock was at half mast, visible to anyone who looked.
“I can do that, too.”
I cupped his cheek and pulled him in for a kiss, our bodies pressed together just long enough for him to feel my arousal. Then I pulled back and winked. “Hot damn,” I said. “I guess I won’t be going home alone tonight.”
Channing took one look at Hank, who was gaping at us in shock, and laughed. Then he put a gentle hand on my friend’s arm. “Hank, I’m sorry. That was mean. I’m Channing—Reagan’s boyfriend.”
Hearing the words come out of his mouth filled me with pride so large it felt as if I might burst with it. But at the same time, I knew this would be the moment all of it would come together for Hank: My boyfriend. My very young boyfriend, and introducing himself to Hank, who had known me during my torrid history when I was the younger man.
Hank managed a smile. “You two had me going. Assholes. Channing, it’s nice to meet you—I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have hit on you if I’d have known.”
“Yes, but you made my night infinitely more amusing, Hank, so don’t apologize.”
I recognized Channing’s friends from the parties at Get Ink’d as they came over. They recognized me, too, and their faces split into grins. Channing must have told them we were seeing each other now.
“Hey, I’m going to leave you to your friends. See you later?” I asked Channing.
“Absolutely.” He leaned into me and placed another kiss on my mouth. Unable to resist, I kissed him back with a possessive hunger that, while a bit barbarian, made it loud and clear to anyone watching that Channing was mine. When we parted, Channing’s sapphire eyes were glazed, his pupils large with want. It almost caused me to end the evening then and there, take him home, and fuck him senseless.
Instead, I squeezed his hand and then walked back to the table I’d been sharing with Hank. My friend followed, sinking into the seat next to me. He pointed an accusing finger.
“You motherfucker. I am going to need you to explain that—” he ticked his head toward Channing “—to me. Because that, my friend, is jailbait and you have a bad history with age differences.”
“You’re right,” I conceded, pouring him a fresh pint. “I truly didn’t expect to date someone so young. And he’s twenty-one, by the way, so comfortably on the legal side. But I avoided giving into my feelings for a long time because of Ian. I was worried that I’d turn into the oppressive one, you know? That I’d become for someone else what Ian had been to me. It would have wrecked me if I’d somehow taken over and ruined Channing’s life and his potential.”
Hank stared at me as if he could peel back my skin and see my true intentions underneath. I met his gaze, not flinching. But whatever he saw in me must have passed the test. He shook his head in disbelief and leaned back, taking a long swig of lager. “Fuckin’ A, man. What changed for you? Why risk it?”
“Because unlike me when I was with Ian, Channing has a lot of power in this relationship. I’m a complete pushover for him, and I love every second of it. I don’t want to control him or manipulate him—I just want to support him and stand by his side for as long as he’ll have me. He’s experienced a lot and his maturity is years ahead of where mine was when I was that age.”
“And he’s fucking hot as hell, too,” Hank muttered. “You lucky son of a bitch.”
I was a lucky son of a bitch. My chest released pressure I hadn’t realized was building in it with Hanks’s approval. Maybe I’d been waiting for something to blow up in my face, showing me I couldn’t really have someone like Channing. But now it was sinking in fully...I could. I could stop waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“How many names are you going to call me tonight?” I joked.
Hank just smiled. “Now, I’m glad you came out with me, but if that was my boyfriend,” he nodded to Channing again, “I would not be shooting the shit with an old friend. I’d be showing him off on the dance floor.”
I couldn’t help but glance at Channing. He was looking at me. When our eyes met, he winked.
“You’re right,” I said to Hank. “Text me later, I still