Mark Me (5 page)

“Yes,” Dimitri said.

Eli raised an eyebrow. Dimitri had answered too quickly and he didn’t really trust him.

“You’re hesitating. Are you afraid your parents won’t let you go?”

“They’re out of town for the weekend,” Eli said. “And I don’t need their permission.”

“Good. Then I’ll pick you up around six.” Dimitri leaned off the car.

“But you don’t know where I live.”

Dimitri smiled sheepishly. “I found you here, didn’t I?” Eli frowned. Yes, he had. “Then I better give you my number.

Call me when you get to the gate so I can let you in.”

“You have a gate? I suppose you have guards too.” Eli didn’t confirm or deny the statement.

“Wow. Do your parents expect some big bad wolf to come and steal away their precious baby?” he teased.

“Yes,” Eli answered walking around to the driver’s side and opening the door. “Be on time. I hate to be kept waiting.” Dimitri bowed gallantly. “Wear something comfortable, like jeans,” he said once Eli was safely in the car and rolled down the window. “I hate slacks.”

Eli started the engine, glared at him, and drove off.

* * * *

Luck was with him, and he didn’t have to make an excuse for not getting into the pool. The coach had left a message on his phone that class had been cancelled. This gave Eli a couple of hours to relax and prepare for his date. He groaned at the thought. He couldn’t nice this up any way he looked at it. He and Dimitri weren’t friends. So what were they?

Eli couldn’t believe that he was wasting his time trying to put a label on their relationship, because they weren’t in one. He’d accompany Dimitri to the festival, hear some music, eat some food, and then have the tattoos removed. After that he planned never to see him again. He sighed. Why didn’t he believe himself? And why did his heart gallop whenever Dimitri came near?

Eli walked into his bedroom. It was still early, so he had enough time to pick out something suitable to wear. He smirked, looking over the assortment of dress slacks in his closet. He had entertained the idea of wearing his high school uniform just to irritate Dimitri. That would probably get him a lot of strange looks from the tourists. The two of them would surely stick out like a sore thumb by their vast differences. He was Cartier and Versace, and Dimitri was Levi’s and Gap. No doubt the two of them had absolutely nothing in common except the violin.

He still wondered why Dimitri had given it up. Mr. Dubisson hadn’t elaborated and it would have been rude to come out and just ask.

Eli turned on the stereo in his room. A hip-hop beat from his favorite group filled the room. He danced around while he put an outfit together. Stupid Dimitri had no right to tell him how dress.

Sandals would be out since they’d be doing a lot of walking, so he pulled out a pair of sneakers, just in case he’d have to run. It was hot already, so short sleeves were definitely in order. His eyes landed on the perfect shirt. He looked at his watch.
Five
. He’d better hop into the shower. Eli continued to listen to the music while he washed. A few minutes later he exited and dressed.

The telephone rang five minutes to six.

“Hello?”

“I’m here.”

So rude
. “Give me a second.” Eli walked over to the security pad in his room and punched in the code.

“I’m impressed,” Dimitri told him through the phone.

Eli watched the camera as Dimitri drove through the gates. They closed as soon as Dimitri passed the sensors.

“So this is how the other half lives,” Dimitri said sarcastically into the receiver of the phone. “Is that your home I see before me, or the Tokyo Imperial Palace?”

“Smart-ass,” Eli said, shoving his wallet into his pocket and his keys, while speaking to Dimitri through the speaker. He walked out of his room and down the stairs to disarm the motion detectors.

Dimitri arrived at the door.

Eli looked him over, surprised the guards hadn’t shot him on sight. Blue jeans, a tie-dyed T-shirt, and sandals. But at least he had a nice car. He’d expected Dimitri to have something retro like a Volkswagen Beetle or maybe a motorcycle.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Dimitri asked, leaning in the door jamb.

He knew he probably shouldn’t, but he didn’t want to be unkind even though Dimitri had gone out of his way to be annoying. Eli stepped aside and let Dimitri in. He closed and locked the door quickly.

Dimitri whistled as he walked around the marbled foyer of the Saint Charles Street mansion. “Mr. Dubisson said your father is a judge. Is he on the take? I don’t know any judges who can afford to live like this.”

“How many judges do you know?” Eli asked sarcastically as he took him on the tour of the rest of the place.

“I’ve been before more than I care to remember.” He stopped in front of a fireplace and looked up at two huge portraits. “Are those you parents?”

“Yes,” Eli answered. “It was taken a couple of weeks after they were married.”

“You have your father’s eyes,” Dimitri said. He looked over at the other portrait. “You were a cute kid.”

“As opposed to not being a cute adult?”

“No comment,” Dimitri said, walking away and peeking into the dining room. “Are we here alone?”

“Why? Are you planning to rob the place?” Dimitri rolled his eyes at him. “No.” He approached and pulled Eli into his arms. “This is why.” He kissed him.

Eli moved out of Dimitri’s embrace and wiped the kiss from his lips. “I thought you said you wouldn’t kiss me.”

“I said I wouldn’t kiss you in public,” Dimitri said, walking up the staircase. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Why?” Eli asked, following Dimitri up the stairs. He got ahead of him and led the way. His parents’ bedroom was off-limits, even to him. He opened the door to his room and Dimitri stepped inside.

“I expected to find a canopy bed with long, flowing mosquito netting to protect the young prince,” Dimitri teased.

“We’re not that rich,” Eli said.

Dimitri raised a blond eyebrow.

“My grandfather was a famous violinist with the New Orleans Symphony Orchestra and my other grandfather dabbled in oil.”

“And of course both grandfathers spoiled you rotten,” Dimitri said, opening the closet and peering inside. “Wow, prep boy city.”

“Are you finished scrutinizing my life?”

“Not quite yet.” Dimitri closed the closet and walked over to check out the bathroom. “You have a shower and a sunken tub.”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Eli asked.

“No,” Dimitri answered. “And you’re neat and orderly. That’s good to know in a relationship.”

“What relationship?” Eli asked. He didn’t expect to ever see Dimitri again after the tattoos were removed later. “We aren’t in a relationship.”

Dimitri sauntered over to him. “We are most certainly in a relationship. I’m in your bedroom and we’re about to go out on a date.”

Eli turned on his heels and walked out the door. “We are not going on a date.”

Dimitri followed him. “Have you ever been on a date before?” 

“Sure,” Eli lied as they walked down the stairs. “Plenty of times.”

“Have you ever been on a date with that pretty blonde who came into the tattoo parlor with you?”

Eli stopped at the foot of the stairs. “Holly and I are good friends.”

“But you’d like it to be more?”

Eli walked toward the door and opened it. “You have to step outside,” he told Dimitri. “I need to set the alarm.” Dimitri stepped out of the door and Eli set the alarm and followed him out.

“You haven’t answered me.”

Eli locked the door and put the keys into his pocket. Dimitri had asked him about Holly. What had he done that night to make him suspect that he had feelings for the young woman? “Yes,” he finally answered.

Dimitri opened the car door and Eli got in. He closed the door and walked around and got into the driver’s seat. A few minutes later they drove through the Garden District and headed toward the French Quarter. Dimitri parked his car in the garage of his apartment and they got out. “We can walk from here,” Dimitri said. “We’re meeting Greer and some friends there.”

“Greer?” Eli asked.

“The cute, dark-haired tattoo artist.”

“Oh,” Eli said like he cared, which he really didn’t. So they wouldn’t be alone.
Good
. The more people around, the less chance Dimitri had to kiss him. No one would probably care he discovered as they walked through the crowded streets. He spotted a lot of men walking and holding hands.

* * * *

They met up with Greer and some of the other guys at the festival.

A live band played zydeco music and people from every walk of life danced and ate seafood while the hot summer sun beamed down on them.

Dimitri introduced him to the others. Besides Greer and the other tattoo artist Jose, there were two others, Nathan and Sal. Nathan was about thirty, with sandy-blond hair, a mustache, and beard. A dark-blue dagger tattoo peeped out from the short sleeve of his black T-shirt. Sal, short for Salvador, had the best body Eli had ever seen. He had a gorgeous face and a short, neat haircut. In one ear he wore a gold earring that matched a chain around his neck. A see-through tank top revealed his body art. Wild, intricate designs covered his trunk, back, and arms.

Greer had a cobra tattoo on both his forearms, while Jose’s arms bore a vintage Camaro and a Trans-Am.

Jose pulled Sal away for them to dance. He suspected they were a couple but knew it would be rude to ask. Greer and Nathan joined them shortly, leaving him alone with Dimitri.

“I saw you checking out Sal’s tattoos,” Dimitri said as he sat on the ground, sipping from a can of beer.

“I can’t help but see them,” Eli said. “They’re covering the entire top of his body.” He sat down next to him.

“And the entire bottom half,” Dimitri said. “Jose made him a living mural.”

“Why?” Eli asked. “Why would someone want to do that to his body?”

“It’s art,” Dimitri explained. “Instead of using canvas, we use skin. And Sal’s body is made for body art with all those muscles and great ass.”

Eli glared at him. “Were the two of you lovers?”

“No,” Dimitri answered. “He’s not my type. I’m into musicians.” Eli rolled his eyes at him.

“Do I have a nice ass?”

“I haven’t noticed,” Eli lied.

Dimitri chuckled. “Your nose is going to grow.” He finished off his beer and tossed the can into a nearby trash bin. He rose. “Come on. Let’s go have a look around.”

Eli rose from the ground and dusted off the back of his jeans.

“Won’t they miss us?”

“Who cares,” Dimitri said. “They probably won’t even notice.

Those four like to dance and party.”

“And you don’t?” Eli asked as they walked.

“No. I prefer to do my partying between the sheets.” Eli pretended not to hear Dimitri’s last remark. He still couldn’t get the word
thrusting
out of his head, or the image.

They walked over to the food stands. Dimitri treated him to servings of seafood jambalaya and alligator on a stick. Alligator, Eli discovered, tasted a lot like chicken. After wolfing down two bowls of shrimp creole and seafood gumbo, Eli couldn’t eat another bite.

A different band took the stage and Eli didn’t realize that he was dancing until he looked over and saw Dimitri watching him with interest.

“You have some smooth moves, preppy.”

“I’ve gone to a few dances, house parties, and teen clubs,” Eli said as he rocked his hips to the soulful beat. “And regardless of what you think, I’m not some sheltered, little, rich boy. I do the same things normal guys my age do.”

“Even kiss girls?”

Eli rolled his eyes at him again.

Dimitri walked around him. “Do you work out?”

“I’m a swimmer,” Eli said. “I’ve been competing since I was a kid.”

“I bet you have some sweet muscles under those clothes.”

“You’ll never find out,” Eli told him, rocking to the beat.

“Oh, yes I will,” Dimitri said, walking off.

Eli stopped dancing and caught up with him. “What do you mean by that?”

“What do you think I mean?” He pulled Eli into a secluded spot between two food stands and kissed him.

Eli’s mouth opened and he melted into Dimitri’s arms. “I thought you said you wouldn’t do this in public.” His heart rate accelerated as Dimitri stared at him with intense blue eyes.

Dimitri wrapped his arms around Eli’s neck. “I couldn’t help it. You were shaking that body of yours around me. Do you have any idea what that does to me? All I’ve been thinking about since we’ve met is stripping you naked and kissing you from head to toe.”

“I’m a guy,” Eli told him point blankly.

“Me too,” Dimitri said. “But I want to suck on your dick until you lose control. Sue me.”

Eli’s traitorous cock responded to the vulgar words. “I’m not gay,” he said, pushing Dimitri off him. He walked back to the opening where he could breathe and clear his head of the new image Dimitri had put there. Couldn’t Dimitri say things which didn’t set off his imagination?

Dimitri followed him out. “Let’s not argue. Come on. There’s so much I want to show you.”

The next thing he knew, they had left the festival and he and Dimitri were seated in a horse-driven carriage. “You’re not old enough to go into any of the clubs,” Dimitri said. “But I’d like to show you around the right way, by daylight.”

“I’d like that,” Eli said. He settled back in the carriage while the tour guide educated him on the parts of town he’d never seen.

The sun had just started to set as the tour ended. “I’ll take you inside some of the museums someday soon,” Dimitri promised as he helped him out of the carriage. “You’ll be particularly interested in the jazz museum. One of these days I hope to see your memorabilia there.” His cell phone rang. He reached into his pocket, pulled it out, and answered it. “Hello. Yeah, I just took him on a tour. You guys still rocking out?” Dimitri laughed. “I’ll see you later. I have a tattoo to remove.” He disconnected the call.

Finally
, Eli thought. His tattoos would soon be history, along with Dimitri and his erotic teasing.

Dimitri led him down the infamous Bourbon Street. Half-naked women danced on stage in the strip clubs they passed. He wasn’t old enough to enter but that didn’t mean he couldn’t sneak a peek like a healthy eighteen year old. One of the ladies came out one of the clubs and walked around him. “Hey sweet thing.” She wore a pair of short shorts that left very little to the imagination and a cutoff T-shirt that displayed most of her breasts. “Want to come in for a lap dance?”