Mark Me (3 page)

He and Randall set up quickly and began to play. Within minutes they drew attention and people started gathering to hear them. Others entered the café, got their food, and sat down at the green tables in the courtyard. By one that afternoon the restaurant had lots of customers and the tip jar Mr. Dubisson had set up for them overflowed with money. He and Randall knew beforehand that the money they raised would go into a fund to help buy instruments for underprivileged kids.

Both he and Randall came from two prominent New Orleans families and didn’t need the money. But neither had a problem helping out when they could. They’d done mini-concerts like this before since they were kids, and they loved entertaining. Once he landed a job with an orchestra, he’d look back on the experience as something positive in his life.

* * * *

“I’m hungry,” Dimitri said around one. “I think I’m stopping for lunch. Would you care to join me?”

Greer nodded.

They had worked on several tattoos that morning and they didn’t have anyone coming in until three. Jose had arrived and could watch the parlor for them.

“Where would you like to go?” Greer asked.

Dimitri shrugged. With so many great restaurants in the area, it was hard to choose. “I have a craving for seafood.”

“Then let’s go to Tulsa. They have great seafood and live music performances during lunch. Today they’re supposed to have two violinists entertaining.”

Their shop was located a couple of blocks away from Decatur Street so they could get there on foot.
Violinists
? He loved violin music. He’d taken lessons as a child but gave it up when the lessons got too expensive. “Let’s go check them out.” The French Quarter was alive with tourists, street entertainers, and horse-and-buggy carriages. The scent of beer and the seafood was in the air as they walked by some of the local artists drawing pictures in Jackson Square. A puppeteer performed for a group of people near the Riverwalk, and people dined at Café Du Monde while two young women sang for them.

The sound of dueling violins guided them to the sidewalk right outside the Tulsa Café. In all honesty Dimitri didn’t really believe in fate, but this time someone or something had put the hazel-eyed temptation before him.

“Isn’t that?” Greer asked, pointing to a curly-haired teen on the right.

Eli hadn’t looked up or looked their way, but it was definitely him. The teen on the left was also cute, with long, dark hair and glasses. They appeared to be around the same age and must have been practicing or rehearsing together for some time since they were both very good. They played “Violin Concerto Number 5 in A major” by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, a classical and difficult song to perform.

Dimitri remembered it. He’d just began learning the piece when his father lost his job and Dimitri had to leave the music school.

The dark-haired violinist stopped playing while Eli did a solo piece. He made the strings sing melodically, filling the warm summer air with music.

Dimitri shuddered as the sound went from his ears to his nervous system. God, how he missed playing. He closed his eyes and got swept away by the haunting song. He opened his eyes at the sound of applause. Intense hazel eyes stared at him. He gulped. Eli was even more stunning awake and by daylight. Why hadn’t he noticed his golden tan last night or those sun-kissed cheeks? If someone would have told him that he would meet the man of his dreams in an arcade men’s room, he would have laughed them right out of the city. And if someone would have told him that he would fall in love on a crowded French Quarter street outside a busy seafood café, he would have called them crazy. He winked at Eli.

“There’s an empty table,” Greer told him.

“Do you know him?” the other violinist asked Eli.

“No,” Eli said.

Dimitri followed Greer into the courtyard. It felt like an arrow shattered his heart.

Eli and the other young man played another song.

* * * *

“What do you mean, how did you get a tattoo?” Justin asked.

“You got one just the same way the rest of us did.” He twisted his forearm around and showed him.

Eli looked at the tiny skull and crossbones. “Very manly,” he replied. Well, it was, compared to his.

Justin chuckled. “Holly got a tiger paw on her butt.” Eli smirked. He’d give anything to see the tattoo. But that was beside the point. “Let me rephrase the question. Did the words
I want
a tattoo
come out of my mouth, or did someone just assume that I wanted a tattoo just because I was with you guys when you decided to do something this foolish?”

Justin backed away nervously. “I don’t remember. Whatcha get anyway?”

There was no way Eli was going to show him. “Where did we have it done? Maybe it’s not too late to have it removed.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Trey said, walking toward them clad in a red, white, and blue swimming trunks and beach slippers. His new United States Marine Corps tattoo on the right side of his chest glinted under the sunlight. In three weeks Trey would be leaving for boot camp, leaving poor Holly unattended. “That’s permanent ink. The only way a tattoo can be removed is with laser surgery.” Eli frowned. Trey had answered both his questions. The ink was permanent and Trey, no doubt had been the one who had him marked for life. He didn’t remember when their friendship had changed, but three weeks couldn’t pass fast enough for him.

“Aren’t you going to change into your trunks?” Henry asked.

Eli shook his head. “I’m not feeling well,” he lied. He couldn’t risk someone seeing those tattoos. Since his so-called friends wouldn’t give him the name of the tattoo parlor, he would find it himself. Maybe he should have asked his new tattooed stalker from last night where he’d gotten his done. Seeing him just show up at the café earlier had really blown his mind. Talk about the fates working against him. He’d still had an appointment with his hairstylist but he’d cruise around the area where they were last night to see if he could spot any tattoo parlors in the vicinity. “See you guys later,” he said as the rest of the swimmers started coming out of the gym. He hurried off to tell the instructor that he would see him next weekend for his last lesson.

* * * *

The door to the parlor opened around five. Dimitri was busy finishing a design on a customer’s back and didn’t look up. Greer or Jose could handle it.

“You have company, Dimitri,” Greer told him.

“I’m busy,” Dimitri said, still not stopping the needle or looking up. “Can’t one of you guys handle it?”

“I think you might want to handle this one personally,” Greer answered.

Dimitri raised the needle gun and looked up angrily. “Oh!” he gasped. A gorgeous, hazel-eyed, preppy violinist stood in the waiting area dressed in a pair of black slacks, a gray pullover shirt, and dress shoes. He looked like he was on his way to some fraternity function, or maybe a date with some young chick he’d gone to school with.

A stylist, not a barber, had gotten to Eli’s hair and shone off his dark, curly locks. Dimitri moaned inside. He looked even hotter with the new do.

“Are you Dimitri?” Eli asked.

“Yes,” Dimitri answered. “How can I help you?”

“We need to talk,” Eli said.

“I’m busy.” Who did the little cutie think he was anyway coming into his shop looking like fresh meat to a starving man and smelling like expensive aftershave and cologne? “Have a seat.”

“Who is that?” Jose asked Greer.

“Dimitri’s new little thing,” Greer answered.

Eli glared at him but walked over to a seat.

“Hot damn,” Jose said in Spanish. “He’s yummy.” Dimitri smirked, hoping Eli couldn’t understand Spanish. Like him and Greer, Jose could appreciate a beautiful man, and Eli was all that and a bag of chips. The pullover shirt showed off his young, muscular build. He’d bet he worked out at the gym or something.

Dimitri went back to what he was doing while Eli flipped through a magazine. The client on the table wanted an eagle and an American flag tattoo on his back. Dimitri had just about finished it but purposely slowed down so he could think. Dimitri didn’t flatter himself thinking Eli had been swept away by all the attention he’d given him the last day or so. No doubt he’d come about the tattoos. They were done with henna and would be a memory in a couple of days, but he doubted if Eli knew this. He’d probably come to punch his lights out or to stare angrily at him like he was doing now.

Dimitri couldn’t stall any longer, and it wasn’t right to let the man on the table suffer needlessly. “Don’t scratch or get this wet for at least a week,” Dimitri told the man. He walked him over to a three-way mirror so he could see his new body art. The man left and Dimitri signaled for Eli with his finger to follow him. “Keep an eye on the place,” he told his partners. “We’re going upstairs to talk.” Both Greer and Jose looked at him questionably, but didn’t say a word.

Eli hopped out of the seat and followed him like a fly being led into a web by a spider.

* * * *

“Would you like a beer?” Dimitri asked Eli once they were in his apartment.

“No thank you,” Eli said. He walked around looking at all the jazz memorabilia on the walls.

“You’re a very talented violinist,” Dimitri said. “How long have you been taking lessons?”

“Thirteen years,” Eli answered.

“Would you care for a soda, some coffee, or perhaps tea?”

“No thank you,” Eli said. “This isn’t a social visit.” Dimitri popped the tab off the beer can and sipped some. He walked out of the kitchen and came into the living room area. He leaned against the wall and watched Eli look around. He stopped browsing and turned to face him.

“I want you to remove these tattoos you put on me.”

“Oh, I see,” Dimitri said, feinting shock. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like them?”

Eli stood across from him with his arms crossed. He was actually taller than Dimitri remembered, about five feet nine, but still shorter than him. “No, how can I put this? They’re just not me.” Dimitri smirked at him. He already knew that. “Awe, I think they’re cute and sexy.”

Eli scowled at him. “If I wanted a man’s name tattooed across my butt, it wouldn’t be your name.”

Dimitri put the beer can on the table and walked over to him.

“What’s wrong with my name? It’s a good Russian name. Consider yourself lucky. I could have covered you in erotic pictures like your friend Trey suggested.”

Eli stepped back like he’d just insulted him. Or did he not know that Trey was the one who told Dimitri to tattoo Eli as a joke?

“What’s wrong? Are you afraid that I’m going to kiss you again?” Eli blushed hotly under all that tanned skin. “Don’t you dare.” Dimitri moved in closer. “What would you do?” Eli stepped back. He didn’t have anywhere to run since Dimitri had cornered him by a wall. “Will you please remove the tattoos? My parents will kill me if they see them.” Dimitri smirked at the admission. “Kiss me first.” Eli glared at him. “I don’t kiss men.”

“Well, you better get used to kissing me because that’s the only way I’ll remove them.” Eli’s scent filled his nostrils. He smelled divine. And he bet that was a real sapphire dangling from the silver chain around his neck.

“I have money,” Eli said, not backing down from him. “I’ll pay anything to have them removed.”

“Ah, that’s right, you have two tattoos. If I’m not mistaken you have one near your cock, lover.” He closed in on Eli.

Eli dropped his brave facade, but he didn’t move.

“You can keep your money. I don’t want it. My reward is just knowing that every time you get freaky with some young society girl, she’ll see my name and run away screaming.” Eli bravely braced up to him. “You’re not the only tattoo artist in town. I’ll find someone else to remove them.” Dimitri shoved him roughly against the wall and braced his hands against it, trapping Eli. “Don’t you dare defile my work. No, I change my mind. Go ahead and find someone else to do it. Laser surgery is both painful and costly. And you’ll forever have two big, ugly scars marring that perfect preppy body.” He lowered his head and stole a kiss.

“Let me go,” Eli said against his lips.

Dimitri ignored him and pushed his tongue inside Eli’s mouth.

Eli gasped, shuddered, and tried to push him away.

The kid had some serious young muscles, but that didn’t deter Dimitri as he tried to kiss Eli senseless. He felt Eli’s confusion as his hands shook against Dimitri’s chest. He also felt the moment Eli’s resistance shattered. He relaxed his lips and Dimitri took advantage of the situation and ran his tongue around Eli’s mouth and played tongue tag with him. Their bodies were so tightly pressed against each other that he knew the moment Eli got an erection. The kid whimpered as his body betrayed him.

Dimitri broke the kiss to give him a chance to breathe. “Why fight it, Eli? We both know the real reason you’re here. You’re just a little curious.”

“You’re crazy,” Eli said, pushing Dimitri off him.

“Am I? You can call me what you want, but your dick’s about to rip through the seams of those fancy trousers.” He lowered one of his arms, reached between Eli’s legs, and squeezed gently to demonstrate.

Eli flinched and tried to get away from Dimitri’s prying fingers.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed. This happens to the best of us.” He leaned in and kissed him again and continued to massage Eli’s swollen cock.

Eli trembled and whimpered again.

Maybe he should take it easy. He remembered his first time with a man. He nearly wet his pants. “I’ll be gentle,” Dimitri whispered to him.

Eli continued to tremble as his dick hardened. “Please stop. I don’t want this.”

Dimitri freed him. He didn’t want to take him by force either. He felt bad for manhandling Eli this way, but the kid had his nose wide open. He backed away. “Some other time maybe?” His answer came in the form of a fist. The preppy boy punched him in the face and then kicked his legs from under him. “Don’t you ever touch me again. I hate you.” He ran from the apartment.

“Ouch,” Dimitri said, shaking away the pain in his jaw. The lick had packed quite a wallop. And the little bastard had kicked him on his ass. He’d laugh if he didn’t hurt so badly. Dimitri struggled to sit up. “Oh?” Damn, he had a boner. He groaned and rose to his feet.