Cole McGinnis 05 - Down and Dirty (27 page)

“No teasing him. It hurts. I’d say you can get drunk now, but you might want to wait until the endorphins wear off, or you’ll crash hard.”

“Probably fall on your face or something embarrassing,” Cole agreed, swiveling in a full circle. “Go take your picture, Ichi, and then we can go meet Jae down at Piggie for dinner. Bobby’s got to be starving.”

“Shut up, Princess. Let me have this,” Bobby teased. He stood still as Ichiro’s camera whirred and clicked. “You going to let me see what you’ve got there, Ichi?”

He snagged Ichi by the waist, drawing him in. Turning his lover around, Bobby ignored Ichi’s protests, then tucked the inker into the curve of his embrace, pressing his chest against Ichiro’s back.

“Very unprofessional,” Ichiro grumbled. “I’m the boss, you know. Kissing in front of the staff.”

“Yeah, whatever. Show me the pictures so we can go grill up some meat and ogle pretty Korean boys as they bend over to adjust the flame.” He ignored Ichi’s derisive snort and rested his chin on Ichi’s shoulder, peering down into the camera’s screen. Even slightly swollen, the tattoo was glorious—and aching—but Bobby didn’t want to let his lover go. “Babe, wow… seeing all of it together. Just… wow. No words.”

“Thanks for letting me give it to you,” Ichiro whispered, a flush of shyness licking at his words. “For trusting me to do… that.”

“No one else in the world I trust more,” Bobby said as he kissed Ichiro’s neck.

“Even Cole?” He eyed Bobby through his unruly black hair.

“Hell, especially him.” He laughed as Cole told him to go fuck himself. “But yeah, thank you for giving me this. Shit, it’s so much… you, babe. It’s perfect. This is perfect… or okay, almost perfect.”

“What do you see?” Frowning, Ichiro turned around in Bobby’s arms, craning his neck to take a better look at the tattoo. “What’s wrong? I didn’t think I missed anything.”

“The ink’s fine, babe. Gorgeous even.” Bobby bent his head slightly, until their temples touched and a wash of shadows warmed the air between their pressed-together faces. He pulled out the shimmering gold ring he’d had burning a hole in his jeans pocket since he’d gotten dressed that morning while watching Ichiro shave off a faint dust of hair from his upper lip. “I’m just going to ask you to give me a little bit more. I want you to give me all of you. So, Ichiro Tokugawa, I’m kind of asking you if you’ll marry me and give me everything you’ve got.”

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