Can tattoos induce a sexual awakening?

Heath

I met this guy, Marko. He has the best tattoos.

We hang out all the time and he even loves the farm animals as much as I do. He’s Croatian and he kisses me on the cheek sometimes, too. That’s such a kind gesture and I really like it when he does that.

He speaks another language and even likes to paint on paper, not just the skin of his tattoo clients.

I can’t imagine not having our weekly coffee meetings. Or missing the rides on his motorbike.

The guys on the ranch tell me we’re dating, but I’d know if we were.

Wouldn’t I?

Marko

Heath is the quintessential boy next door. He’s all sunshine energy and a smile that makes my heart stop.

And I’m the tattooed son of a criminal. I keep to myself and prefer the company of my motorcycle and the open road over people.

But Heath isn’t like most people. He has a pet peacock for one thing, and he’s beyond thoughtful.

He makes me wish for more.

Now that we’ve grown close, I want to take our relationship further, but there’s a problem. He doesn’t know we’ve been dating and I’m already half in love with him.

This story contains an insatiable Heath once he gets a taste, a peacock who interrupts, and all the men of the Broken Horn Ranch quietly waiting for Heath to figure out he’s never really been straight. Swoony dates and gestures galore, and a heartfelt trip to Croatia. Low angst, adorable discoveries and the babble that can only come from Heath and his golden retriever energy.

Perry

You know that saying, keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Well, whoever said that never had the misfortune of meeting Roman Auclair.

Sure, he's sexy and wears a corset like nobody's business, but he's arrogant, entitled and so damn judgemental he should sit on the Supreme Court.

I'd rather sleep with a porcupine than bunk with him.

But I promised my brother I'd help and I'm a man of my word.

It's not like falling in love with my complete opposite is possible anyway.

In fact, I'm pretty certain I'll always be single

Roman

You know that saying about stereotypical frat boys? Young, dumb and full of—yeah, that one. Nobody wears that dated cliché more than Perry Attwater.

Except he's a good 15 years removed from college.

Sure, he fits every one of my lumberjack fantasies, but the man doesn't know the difference between lace and linen. He's crude, messy, and unashamed about his lack of fashion sense.

I'd rather use my best fabric scissors to chop wood than share a space with him.

But I promised my best friend I'd make our shared accommodations work.

It's not like I'll fall in love with a plaid loving mountain man. Love is for losers.

And I always win.

I suck at magic.

That's normally not a bad thing, but when you're a witch?

Honestly, having been banished to earth and in the company of humans isn't that bad. I mean, I have a home, friends, and even a few hobbies, but that doesn't stop me from being plagued with nightmares or make breaking the curse feel any less impossible.

And while it feels like spending my life alone is inevitable, I crave the physical touch of a lover. The itch to find my heart's mate is back and louder than ever.

When your best friend's dad is your wingman—and a demon—it's all kinds of awkward meeting the love of your life.

But here we are.

The adorable and eccentric owner of the magic store believes in witches and is into the same kink I am. I want to say that it's fate, or meant to be, but when nothing in my life has ever been easy, I don't want to get my hopes up.

Is my love life finally going to evolve from spying on my roommates or am I destined to remain a virgin for eternity?