Page 49 of Tamed (The Courtside King Duology 1)

Which Breck had been grateful for. Truth be told, he’d been bracing for Kai to mention their situation. A Freudian slip of sorts to get Breck back for dumping his class.

Because Kai was pissed about that. Breck had heard it in his tone. He felt slighted by his cut-and-run. Yeah, well, too fucking bad. Maybe he should’ve gone easier on Breck’s ass from time to time.

He exhaled, volleying that air puck back and forth. In fairness, Kai wasn’t as big of a dick as he liked to make him out. He just rode him hard because he wanted him to be his best. Deep down, Breck knew that. Knew Kai’s intentions weren’t inherently bad.

Thing was, he already got enough of that shit from his coaches. And don’t get him started on his fucking dad. He hadn’t wanted that crap from Kai, too. He’d wanted their dynamic to be different. Potentially with Kai being the guy who drilled him in the good kind of way.

Yeah, he’d love for Kai to venerate him, to give him the praise that he deserved, that he’d earned. But even more so than any of that, he’d wanted Kai to want him. The first same-sex prospect Breck would’ve actually made the effort for.

But he’d never had the opportunity. Not with the way Kai had treated him in class. Master to student. Superior to underling. It’d been impossible. Breck’s hard-earned pride just hadn’t allowed it. Not with a man who constantly ordered him around, or ran him through the wringer while all his peers looked on. It’d been enough to keep Breck simmering with constant resentment.

But then that day came. After class. Such heated passion. Breck had finally stopped resisting, and Kai had met him on common ground. Or so he thought, until Kai threw him for a loop. To embarrass him? Mostly likely. All he knew was that it’d knocked him on his ass.

Breck ground his teeth, feeling mortified all over again.

Yeah, screw all that.

Kai was a mind fuck he couldn’t afford and didn’t need.

Tonight’s run-in was definitely a setback to finally forgetting him. But he would. Just needed someone hotter to purge Kai out of his brain.

And what do you know, club hopping this weekend. Perfect timing. Without question, he’d find his ‘someone hotter’ there for sure.

Come Friday night, Kaiwould be out of his system for good.

* * * *

“All right, mate. I think your beastie is finally done.”

Kai peered down at his leg as Liam wiped it with a cloth, regarding his finished tattoo. Not too shabby, at least from this angle. He’d stopped by after his last Taekwondo class so the Australian could color in the image he’d outlined on Wednesday.

Liam set down his gun, then grinned and stood up to stretch. “Take some time to check it out. Gonna go take a smoko. I’ll be right back.”

“Will do.”

Liam grabbed his cigarettes and exited the room.

Kai sat up gingerly, the reclined seat’s taut leather creaking under his weight. His skin stung, that delicious burn that only ink jobs could provide. Raw and biting. Yet somehow inexplicably sensuous, too. A sensation he’d savored once before. Between his shoulder blades in that stretch beneath his nape.

Clutching the towel he’d used to cover his crotch, he got to his feet and moved to the small room’s full-length mirror.

A smile curved his lips. It was perfect. Liam nailed it. Right down to the tiniest little details. Captivated, he took it in. His Eastern dragon. Wingless and twisting like a serpent with razor-sharp claws. Hints of gold accented its dark emerald scales, its colors the perfect complement to Kai’s olive skin. What held him spellbound, though? The way it coiled up his leg. From the middle of his thigh to just inside his hip, its fearsome forelegs seeming to reach for his crotch.

Talk about visually stimulating.

Still, his favorite part was the dragon’s head. Crowned with long spikes and sharp horns, its snout all but grazed his freshly-shaved groin, its powerful jaw partially opened as if defending his cock.

As if snarling, If you want some of this, you’re gonna have to fight me for it.

His lips quirked a little higher.

It was gorgeous.

He loved it.

So much better than he’d—

His ringtone had him turning from his reflection, eyeing his phone where it sat in the corner atop his folded jeans. Walking over, he swiped it up off the chair, eyed the caller ID, then brought the phone to his ear.

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